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#translation: my dad can beat up your dad
saiyansweetheart45 · 1 year
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I mean, he kind of said it in the film too, didn't he?
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vagabond-umlaut · 7 months
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l'heure bleue
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Ferocious, fearsome, infallible. The King Of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, has never fought a war he hasn't won.
But, does that mean he'll taste success in this battle of beliefs, raging against no one but his Queen, as well?
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▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; sooo much of tooth-rotting! domestic fluff between sukuna & reader; sukuna is so exhausted, still so fond of his dear wife; said wife is not too soft towards her husband [she has valid reasons, dw]; talks on death; indirect talk on periods & pregnancy; 0% ANGST IN THIS– ONLY FLUFFY HUMOR; spoiler alert— would-be-dad!sukuna x would-be-mom!reader
▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!
▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
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"I'm dying. Very soon."
While not the deep kiss you've always welcomed him with, into your chambers, every night of your married life— Sukuna reckons, he will take this many many times over the tense hush you've been offering him these days.
Shrugging his heavy cloak off his shoulders, the King of Curses walks over to where you're on the bed and frowns, fingers moving to thread through your unkempt hair, then run down the side of your face. Your eyes flutter close for a beat– undoubtedly, from the gentle caress, he surmises– before they grow wide open, blinking with tears of fear.
Rubbing the pad of his thumb over your wobbling lower lip, your lover sighs, knowing full well where this conversation might be going– still, as always, he decides to humor your concerns with an ask of his own.
"Did my Queen visit the royal physician, along with Uraume today?"
"No," you shake your head meekly, "I did not visit the physician. I was resting in our room the entire day."
"If you weren't feeling well, you could have asked her to visit you here, right?" your husband queries, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap. Snuggling into him with a soft hum, you send a miserable look his way— eliciting something eerily similar to the emotions, your husband knows, no curse like him should ever be able to feel.
Yet here he is, feeling every one of those, with his wife in his grasp.
You shake your head a second time; however, with greater force than before. "No. I knew I would be dying soon but I did not want to hear it from her. I wanted you to tell me that awful news, my king. I love you, I wanted you to say it. To confirm it."
You love him, so he must confirm your imminent death!?!?— Stunned by your odd words of reasoning, Sukuna gapes at you, dumbfounded; before he shakes himself free of the shock, discerning you to be three words, or even less, away from dissolving into your pathetic wails.
He smooths the top of your head with a palm, whilst another palm of his squeezes your hip, hoping the action will bring you some comfort. You place a small palm over the latter, voice growing shaky when you say, "Won't you confirm the terrible news, my lord?"
"No," Sukuna's quick to deny you in an instant, "Because I firmly don't believe you're anywhere close to dying. You're as healthy as a horse— or whatever idiotic creature, you humans use in your idiotic idioms."
A facsimile of a smile threatens to erupt onto your lips— it is vanished before the next second— with you crumbling into a mess of tears and snot, face pressed into his chest, whilst your fingers dig into his back.
Sukuna stifles a weary sigh, before wrapping his arms gingerly round your midsection, taking extra care not to jostle you or anything. "You aren't dying anytime soon, my Queen," he struggles to coo, but ends up grumbling, "I won't let you ever leave my side– you stupid woman. You're stuck with me forever– don't I always tell you that, my Queen?"
"You do, Sukuna," you mumble, with a weak nod of your head, "But I do feel so close to dying every moment of the day— so weak and so dizzy and so nauseous– even you've become so careful with me, my king!" you exclaim, red-rimmed swollen eyes glaring accusingly into every ruby eye of his.
Filling him with an addicting thrilling delight he has never felt before.
"You've always been so rough with me— Now, when you're being so gentle with me, out of nowhere, tell me: must the implication of you thinking me to be fragile, along with those awful symptoms– not be worrisome? Must I not think, you consider me to be near my death– hence, this newfound wariness? Hence, you, and even Uraume, who has always been so free to speak their mind before me– the both of you walking on stupid fucking eggshells around me– tell me, 'Kuna!"
A silence punctuates your outburst, filled only by the sounds of your noisy breathing– the latter replacing the sounds of your crying.— An odd yet not unpleasant, emotion taking over the shape of his mouth and curving it upwards, Sukuna drags a finger down your backbone, relishing in the way you shiver, then relax with a sigh under his touch.
Letting your temper to ebb away for another good minute, your lover inquires, keeping his tone void of anything except curiosity, "When is the last time you used your pain-relieving bath salts, pet?"
Your eyes blinking slowly, Sukuna watches them travel to the cabinet where you keep them stored in stacks, before returning to him, quite puzzled. And fatigued.
Adorably small yawns escaping, you murmur.
"I only use them when it's that time of month, which was..." Your eyes flutter open and close, painfully slowly, yet again— before they widen, becoming not unlike the full moon in the sky tonight.
You gasp, shaky fingers poking your belly before reaching a rest on it.
Covering them with his much larger ones, your lover hums, "Happy?"
"Not at all," you shake your head, reaching your other hand to trail the many tattoos on your husband's face, before stopping at the apple of his cheek.
Sukuna swears time ceases to exist in the momentary pause you take— restored only by the blinding beam you offer next, followed by your sweet voice uttering those words, he knows he'll remember for all the millennia he will live.
"I'm very, very happy— you dummy prehistoric curse."
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▸ masterlist
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sunnymoonxx · 11 months
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red eyes, fangs and talons | miguel o'hara × fem!reader
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summary: After another session with Miles, you're left with Miguel filled with anger and frustration. And only you know how to ease him up.
warnings; this is just pure filth, read at your own risk, degradation, unprotected p in v, oral (m receive), vulgar language, kinda voyeurism? if you close your eyes, praise, fangs, talons, talking about being "used," mentions of blood, bondage, angry sex
author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. Also, the Spanish xd. I studied Spanish for a while, but it's no better than google translate, I tried my best xd.
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"No puedo más, no puedo más," you heard a voice mumbling after the room cleared out, leaving only you, Jess, and Miguel. For the past two hours, you and Miguel have been trying to explain to the new recruit, Miles Morales, how the canons work and how they can not be changed. It obviously took a number in Miguel. He covered his face in his hands, back crouched, holding himself back to not break another innocent machine. You and Jess stood silently, glaring at each other, too scared to say anything. At moments like this, even Jess questioned her choices in life.
You decided to risk it and step forward towards Miguel, who still kept whispering something to himself. You were just a few steps behind him when he turned around, his eyes glowing red, facing you.
"Jess, don't take your eyes off Morales," he demanded, not taking his eyes off you. He towered over you, his hair a mess, eyes dark red, and fangs visible over his lips. He was animalistic. And it wasn't the first time you saw him like this. "Make sure he stays here."
"Copy that," Jess responded without hesitation. The next thing you hear is her motorcycle starting, leaving you alone with Miguel. Miguel's talons grew bigger, caused by uncontrollable anger and desire to destroy things. He ripped a machine in half, not even a few minutes ago, and even tho you've known him for years, you couldn't help but be a little scared. You stood there, not daring to say anything, not even knowing what to say, as Miguel moved towards you, scanning you with his vampire-looking eyes.
"You help him one more time," he started, his voice deep and steady, his accent more visible now. "You're out." The thought of being kicked out of the Spider Society made your heart skip a beat. This was all you had. You couldn't go back home. You had nothing there. But you knew Miguel or Jess wouldn't hesitate to send you back if it meant protecting the Multiverse. So you nodded without letting out a word. You understood, even tho you couldn't help but feel pity for him. For Miles. He's still just a kid. But if it meant the multiverse stayed safe, you would do anything to protect it. Even letting Miles' dad die.
"I understand," You kept your head low, not daring to look him in the eyes. You wanted to go and disappear into your room before you felt Miguel's hands grab your face, his talons touching your cheeks, lifting your head up.
"It's the right thing to do." He whispered, his voice a tad softer, but you could still hear the anger filling him. And you've been through this many times to know how this always ends. You didn't fight it. You actually enjoyed it, although you'd never admit it to yourself.
"Yeah, I know." You smiled at him, staring into his bloody eyes. His fangs pierced his lips, causing a drop of blood to drip down his chin. Without thinking, you lifted your hand to brush it off, Miguel carefully watching you. He didn't flinch or move. He let you caress his lips to wash away the blood on his full lips. You didn't even notice you were backed up against a table, Miguel's hand on your waist while the other still held your chin. You dropped your arms, fingers sliding down his torso, not breaking eye contact.
"I made a mistake, I know." You whispered, Miguel tilting his head, his talons carefully caressing your cheek and moving down to your neck. "I've made you angry." He nodded, approving of what you were saying, his eyes following the talons outlining the lines of your collarbones. His claws were so sharp. If he wasn't careful, he could rip your skin apart. And even though he was mad at you, at Lyla, and Miles at everyone, he didn't want to hurt you. There were always other ways to show you his anger and disappointment with you.
"I'm sorry for that, Miguel." You let out, his talons stopping where your heart would be. It was beating fast, blood rushing through your veins. He could feel it all. Hear your inconsistent breath. Feel you tremble beneath him. He could smell the heat between your legs.
"Está bien," his lips formed a little smile, you were sure you were imagining it. His hand moved to your chin again, grabbing you harder, forcing you to look at him. "Just don't obey my orders ever again. Is that clear?" He said out loud, making sure you heard him.
He grabbed your cheeks so hard you couldn't even open your mouth in response. But he knew you understood. And while you were focusing on his one hand grasping your cheeks, you gasped when you felt his other hand rip your suit in half, letting it fall to the floor. The number of torn suits of yours and the number of the new ones that Lyla has made for you, because of this reason. You lost count after seven.
You didn't wear anything under your suit, as it would ruin the lines of your figure, you were fully exposed to him now, his talons moving up and down your stomach. They were cold to the touch, making you hold your breath every time they touched your skin. But they still managed to make your panties wet with arousal. You loved it when he took you like this. Like you were his. Like you belonged to him. You exist just for him. You fucking loved it. Being taken from behind while pulling your hair. His fingers fucking your cunt because you wouldn't stop annoying him. You choking on his cock after he's had enough of your teasing. Being in the Spider Society had its pros and cons. This was one of the pros.
"Eres tan hermosa, arañita". he let out a breath, his talons circling your nipples. If he was so gentle with you, it made your walls clench around nothing. His hands stopped at your ribs, his eyes again scanning your face, head tilted. Like he was thinking about what he wanted to do. What he's gonna do with you tonight. It didn't take him a long time to figure out.
You watched as he placed his strong hands on your shoulders, slightly pushing down. You understood what he wanted. You kneeled in front of him, no questions asked. You've done this so many times, you knew his thoughts by memory. For a few seconds, he just stared at you, naked kneeling in front of him, looking at the massive bulge in his suit. Fuck, he almost came just by looking at you. So desperate for his cock.
You moved your hair out of your face, right before his suit opened, right at his crotch revealing his cock, already covered in precum. He was thick and big, spreading you every time he fucked you. It was a mix of pain and pleasure, making tears fall from your eyes, and orgasm take over your body. He never failed to satisfy you. Never failed to make you beg for more.
"You know what to do," he said, looking down at you, grasping your hair, pulling it slightly. You smiled to yourself, lifting your hands still on your knees and bringing them to his cock. As you grabbed him, your whole hand couldn't fit around him. Made you wetter than before. You decided to tease him a little bit, leaving just slight strokes, not fully touching him, your lips so close to him, he could feel your breath. You regretted it a few minutes after he lost his patience, pushing your head forward, his cock deep inside your mouth.
"Take it, you whore." His hands held your head in place while his hips thrust into your mouth. His cock in your mouth, leaving bruises, your eyes filling with tears. You loved being used like this. You loved being fucked like a slut. You enjoyed it when he called you derogatory names. Sometimes, he mixed it with praise. Fucking you hard, telling you how good of a slut you are for him. He could fuck you with his words without even touching you.
His hips started to move faster, his cock throbbing inside your mouth. He was close. And he was gonna cum on your tongue. Just how you liked it.
"Fuck," he growled, his hold on your head losing strength which confirmed he would finish in your mouth. "So good around my cock," he whispered to himself, fucking your mouth harder, making sure to leave bruises. To mark you as his.
"I'm-." Before he managed to finish the sentence, his cum started to fill your mouth, warming your tongue. He stayed there for a while, recovering before pulling out, breathing heavily. He watched you as you swallowed his load, licking your fingers after cleaning your lips. Fuck, you looked so good.
"You look so good when I fuck your mouth," he smiled at you, trying to push away the sweaty hair on your forehead. You looked so beautiful, kneeling in front of him, your tits out, your cheeks and eyes red, sweat dripping down your forehead. You were a mess already, and he had just begun.
"Stand up," he commanded. You had some trouble getting up after sitting for so long, Miguel noticed and helped you by lifting you up and sitting you down on the table in front of him. He was still so huge, your eyes facing his stomach. You both loved the size difference.
"I want you to be quiet," he said, his eye redder than before. "You're not gonna make a single sound, or I'll stop. Do you understand?" You nodded your head, understanding completely. You've already been through this. Many times, he left you all spread out in his bed because you couldn't keep quiet. Forcing you to deal with it on your own, but nothing ever felt good as his tongue or his cock.
"Good girl," he said, staring into your eyes, his talons digging into your thighs as he spreads me apart. Your cunt is so wet, the smell hits him in the nose. All he's done was fuck your throat and you were already soaking wet for him. He couldn't help but laugh to himself. He didn't break eye contact as his hand traveled down between your legs, making you bring your hand to your mouth to not make any noise as he touched your bare cunt. His fingers on your wet clit, gently moving up and down.
"No así, mi dulce." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. It was too fast, you didn't have time to think as he turned you around fast, pushing you down, your tits touching the cold wood of the table. Ass up, and bend over. His favorite view. Just waiting to get fucked like a slut.
You should have known he wouldn't stop at this, as he also took your arms, forcing them apart and sticking them to the edge of the table with his web shooters. His feet kicked your legs, so they were more apart from each other.
"Joder, eres tan jodidamente hermosa." He whispered as he stepped back to take a better look at you. Bent down over the work table, legs apart, ass up, your tits pushed against the wood, and your arms tied up by his web shooters. So ready for him. Ready to get fucked in the ass by him. He loved the control he had over you. He cherished every second of it.
You felt his talons, going up and down your spine as you lay there, waiting for him to use you. He bent down to your ear, his fangs digging into your earlobe. "If you want me to stop, now is the time, sweetie," He whispered gently, awaiting your answer. You nodded your head.
"Good," he smiled, stepping back again as he took off his hologram suit, his brought shoulders and back visible to the world. You wish you could have seen him exposed, just like you, in the middle of an open office. Anyone could've walked in and seen you being fucked like a slut. But anyone with common sense knew not to bother Miguel now. So you were safe. And for Lyla? She's probably in here somewhere. But this was nothing she hadn't seen before.
Miguel's fingers brushed over your wet clit, testing you, if you make any noises. He was determined to break you tonight. When you stayed silent, he kneeled, attaching his fat tongue to you. That's when he heard a little whimper out of you. You could feel his cold fangs touching your lips, but you know he wouldn't use them like this. There were other places where he loved burying them inside of you. As your thoughts were occupied with his fangs, his tongue started to move faster, licking up and down your slit, his hands spreading your ass cheeks apart.
"Tastes so good," he growled against your cunt, sending shivers down your spine. His tongue and mouth were one of your favorite things about him. The way be devoured your cunt every single time. He could yell at you about how you're useless and only causing problems, but seconds later, he'd be on his knees, eating you out like he'd never eaten before. You could crumble on his tongue, and see stars and worlds just by the way he worked on your cunt.
You tried so hard to keep quiet as his tongue kept working on you, preparing you for his cock. His hands were still grabbing your ass you were sure he left a mark. He loved showing others you were his. That you loved being fucked and used by him.
You felt your orgasm approaching before you felt his tongue disappear and heard him get up, standing now behind you, staring at your cunt. The room was quiet, only his heavy breathing filling the silence. You weren't sure how you were gonna keep silent, and you were sure you were gonna fail.
"Tan bonito para mi," he smirked, grabbing his cock and stroking himself for a while before his tip touched your entrance. "No hagas un sonido." He said before slamming himself deep inside of you, spreading your cunt with his fat cock. You wanted to cry out, scream his name, but you didn't. Your walls surrounded him, his cock so deep inside of you, if you had free hands you could feel him by touching your lower belly.
"Mierda," you heard him whisper before he gently moved his hips back and slammed into you again. His thrusts slowly began to be harder and faster, making sure he didn't cause you any unnecessary pain. After he was sure and by your muffled moans, he started to pound into you like an animal holding your hips, his talons digging into your skin. His fat cock hitting all the spots in your cunt, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, making you see stars. You never wanted this moment to end. You kinda wished Miles Morales would stick around to piss off Miguel more often. You certainly liked the results of his anger.
"Miguel," you moaned, quickly regretting it and pressing your forehead against the table, hoping Miguel didn't hear it. You knew he did when he stopped his movements, his cock still deep inside of you. You felt him bend over, lips to your ears, fangs making an appearance again.
"¿Qué dijiste, querida?" he asked calmly, one hand on the table to stable himself and the other one caressing your back. You quickly shook your head, not daring to meet his gaze. You were so close, and he stopped. Fuck.
You wanted to apologize and beg him to continue, but he spoke first. "I'm not gonna stop." He whispered in your ear before slowly moving his lips down, his cold fangs touching your skin. "I'm gonna make it so much worse." His voice was calm, and you could hear him smirk in it. With his free hand, he ripped off the web shooters holding your arms before lifting you up and pressing you against his chest. He started to pound into you again, talons on your hips and his fangs piercing your skin. The overstimulation of it all made you cry out loud not holding your screams back anymore. You cried his name out before you knew it was gonna get even worse. His free hand moved down your belly to your clit, where he started to spread your lips with his fingers. Fuck.
You didn't know what to focus on first. His talons and fangs marking you as his, his fingers rubbing your clit, or his fat cock pounding into your cunt without mercy. You were tired, and your legs were giving up, but the pleasure taking over your body. You've never felt that ever before.
You were close, too close, and Miguel knew it. "Cum for me," he growled into your skin, taking out his fangs and sucking on the blood spilling from the wound. His fingers started to move faster in your clit, his cock not changing pace in fucking you. "Show me how much you love being my good little whore." He whispered into your ear and with the next thrust of his, you came hard on his cock, your walls almost crushing him. You wanted to fall down but Miguel's arms held you close to him, not stopping pounding into your already sensitive and overstimulated pussy. He was close himself, but you could feel another orgasm approaching as he kept fucking into you restlessly.
"Miguel, fuck." You moaned, his hand moving up to play with your bouncing tits. You could feel him coming closer, this time, same as you. With his last thrust, you came on his cock again and he followed you shortly after. His cum filling you up, marking you as his. You fell onto the table, trying to recover yourself, Miguel's cock still deep inside of you.
You felt his hands lean against your back as he himself tried to catch his breath. Both of you stayed like that for minutes before Miguel pulled out of you, turning you carefully against him and picking you up, bridal style. You didn't care where he was taking you, you were so fucked up you didn't pay attention to anything.
You realized he put you into a bath, filled with hot water that smelled like vanilla. Miguel followed you and sat behind you, pulling you on his lap.
"You did good," he whispered into your ear and started to wash your body from the mess you two made. "I'm proud of you," His lips met your cheek, and a smile spread across your face. You let him wash your sensitive body while you relaxed in his arms, slowly drifting to sleep.
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faetreides · 3 months
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FIND YOUR LOVE | CORIOLANUS SNOW
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summary: modern!coriolanus snow thoughts
cw: crack treated seriously vibes, typical coryo warnings, possessiveness/obsessive behavior, piss kink mention, period blood mention, spit kink mention, slight impact play mention, coryo and reader both have double majors because they’re overachievers, plus sized reader implications, drake mention, reader has bunny teeth & hip dips & glasses, talks of carving letters into skin, spying mention, overstimulation mention, images used in social media elements are not an exact represtation of the reader’s gender or image & are more about the vibes, “wife” usage but he’d feminize you no matter what, implications of sejanus playing the long game, 18+ minors dni
word count: 2.4k
requests are open (read the rules first <3)
block & move on if uncomfortable.
do not repost or translate!!
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Unaware rich kid because while a tragedy did happen in the family (his mother dying in childbirth according to his politician father who was later assassinated) nothing happened to really set them back to square one like in canon. He never really has had to claw himself back to the top, he’s just always been on a steady elevator ride to it.
Clumsy in the beginning in the way that he tries to be intimidating. He’s never had to starve so how can he understand its usefulness as a weapon?
Meets scholarship student double major classics and archaeology (minor in philosophy) reader who has only ever struggled.
The type to violently beat someone to near death on a whim and smirk as he’s escorted out of the police station with apologies because his family’s amazing team of lawyers were called.
Definitely part of some Saltburn ass family where you visit and you’re just like “what the fuck?” the things the 1% normalize (there are rumors of his family being cannibals back in the day, they might be a crime family, his high school principal fucked his mom AND his dad) never cease to disturb and confuse you but the gardens are very nice!
Strolls with you through them to seem romantic but also to brag about his family on your second date that he insisted be at his house (he was kind enough to let your first be at his family’s vacation house in the south of France)
Piss kink (creaks the bathroom door open to hold your hand or he leans against the door and stares you down if you take too long), period sex (more the type to eat you out on your period though) spit sharing and smearing, etc. Because of his carefully manufactured image, when he’s in love he just wants to completely let go and be gross and have that he accepted by the person be loves (plus it scratches the possessive itch in his brain by marking you and knowing you’d be too embarrassed to do it with anybody else)
Really only hand spanks you when you’re actively fucking and he’s so caught up in it all, he just grips the flesh of your ass and furiously jiggles it in his hands in between brisk strikes of his open palms and gets caught on your hole accidentally, it gets to the point where you’d want him to hit harder even if you thought you wouldn’t be into it because it’s just so unintentionally teasing.
Unlike the stereotypes, wouldn’t really be into drinking (other than wine because he thinks he’s above the beer drinking peasants) or drugs (other than the occasional line of cocaine 🤭) thinks keeping a clear head while you’re doing evil plotting is important. Typical white college rich boy hypocrisy (keeps you away from it though, even weed because it can kill your brain cells and he likes his bunny smart.)
He WILL carve his full government name onto you like a womb tattoo if you answer his texts 5 seconds after he expects you too. You CANNOT play with him.
Asked you out by leaving a bouquet of roses on your desk every morning with a note like “these are my grandma’am’s roses, and their beauty could only remind me of you 🥺🥹” (he threatened your roommate to deliver them and made sure they did thanks to the hidden camera he also had them put in)
Double major Political Science and Latin, minor in Philosophy but he likes ancient/older philosophy more. #1 “um actually 🤓👆” offender (hell is hot but his body runs ice cold, so he does not care <3) someone says they like philosophy and he goes “name three philosophers other than Nietzsche and Camus. I bet you’re the type to read Kafka too huh? whore.” (/j)
So hot though like modern Coryo has the curls but a touch shaggier. Everyone on campus turns their phones to the side and takes “discreet” pictures and makes those whisper posts like “need me an unhinged crazy jealous psycho possessive bf” but they’re not you so that wish will never come true :)
Say you’re going to McDonald’s, and he will kill you (if you’re from the south and you try to feed him anything traditional you’re used to, his charcuterie board and caviar eating ass will implode)
Another student in class asks you to borrow a pencil & his brain genuinely goes haywire so without looking he sends them the “let’s play a little game I made” TikTok (by the time you look back at him, he’s warmly smiling as he makes sure you see his hand sliding up his thigh)
If you think you’re working after getting your degree (he could’ve made you drop out, be grateful you get to spend more time together this way) then you’ve got a big storm coming (hope you can accept being baby trapped mwah)
He’s your little chihuahua named sparkles that bites people.
Emotional drake listener
The type where if you 99.7% (he will allow some wiggle room) give into his delusion and insanity, it’s nothing but smooth sailing (for you) and sex would still be passionate but never rough. Sometimes he slips a bit, but you just get more family heirloom jewelry and 5 billion sessions of oral as apologies.
On the swim team and runs track (somehow still looks hot no matter what doing those sports, wants you lick all the sweat off his body after he’s done. (he’d do that for you.) has a private yacht and does polo with Sejanus.
You once sat down, opened a package of cabbage leaves and went to town & Coryo knew in that moment that love is not a choice, it’s a curse.
Buys you mountains of clothes (the softest sweaters or the tightest evening wear because he loves how nothing about your body is hidden from him and one of his favorite ways to wind down is to soothe the marks left by the tight clothes digging into the chub of your tummy with his tongue) also loves how much bigger your thighs get when they spread out as you straddle him in one of his buttons up that reaches just under your ass.
Has a garage full of classic cars that he fucks you in and takes you on drives in.
(Insp. by that one video) fucks you on your stomach while cradling your jaw and when he’s done, he’s kissing down your back and all over your ass while hold a hand on the back of your neck. Eats you out upside-down kneeling straight up on the bed, the skin of your thighs spilling between his fingers as he grips them and nearly bends you in half. You don’t really ride him because he uses you like a fleshlight.
Tits guy no matter the size, prefers jerking off over them and covering them in cum over a boob job.
He won’t let you out in it, but you can be his bunny for Halloween since your front teeth remind him of a bunny, he already has the ears and tail waiting for you. That tweet where it’s like “okay everybody my bf’s about to walk in you all have to clap or I’m blowing this whole fucking building up” but that’s him when it comes to you.
Canon era snow is a girl dad, but modern snow is a boy dad, I fear.
Met you when you had just finished checking into your dorm, you were scrambling all over the place and without looking you bumped into the it boy of the school. His hands suddenly curved like shackles around your hips, his fingers subconsciously stroking your hip dips being the only reason you both didn’t careen to the floor from the collision.
“You should be more careful, wouldn’t want you to get a nasty bruise now, would we?” said with an unreadable yet playful tone and a snake’s smile, lips slightly curled up in the corners and a little too many teeth showing to feel truly comforted. His tongue flicks over his canines for a split second.
Smells like Maison Francis Kurkdijan’s baccarat rouge 540 (buzzcut Coryo gives Dior Sauvage vibes)
Matching airpod max sets and lets you put little bows on his.
Impeccable cable management, phone wirelessly charging on the nightstand or kitchen counter until it’s at 100% and doesn’t charge it again until it’s at 1%
Teaches you how to swim if you don’t know how, with a hand curled under your neck and another under your thigh to help you float. But has no problem just lounging with your back on his chest on the deck of his yacht or laying his head on your chest while you read together on the private beach he booked during your trip.
Slowly fingers you while making out with you and massaging your throat with his other hand. His chunky rings make clanging sounds against your pussy, and he smiles into your lips when you whine. He rests his forehead against yours & slowly spits in your mouth when it falls open as he makes you cum over and over until you’re too tired to leave the apartment he bought for the two of you.
Jiggles your tummy rolls when you’re fucking but sometimes, he’ll just casually bite them, loves laying his head on your stomach and when you sleep. He likes to have a firm grip on the chub of your tummy. He also just plays with it, pulls it, and kneads it but occasionally he’ll gently smack it.
NUTS ON YOUR STRETCH MARKS LIKE HE’S ICING A CINNAMON ROLL
Anyway, his grandma’am owns a fleet of flower shops across the country as well as managing the snow family’s gardens, and luckily enough the one closest to campus was hiring when you enrolled!
Pisces sun Capricorn rising Aries mars, stay strong.
Has to look you in the eyes or he can’t cum.
Always keeps glasses cleaner and a microfiber cloth on him so the second he sees you rub your eyes in frustration because you can’t see through them anymore (because in your mind that would somehow fix it) and reach to grab them off your face, he’s snaking his hand out and snatching them up. He doesn’t even give then back to you; he tenderly tucks your hair behind your ears and slowly slides them back on your face. literally booping the center of them with a grin. Also has your custom designed glasses case (with his initials) in one of his bag’s front pockets.
You asked him to buy you the Gojo skin in Fortnite and he grumbled “you already have my information.” But in his mind, he’s like “what does he have that i don’t?” 💀 (he’ll lose his mind when he finds out you like Geto more). Will play with you on a team consisting of the two of you and Sejanus. (so, he can keep an eye on you two)
Has very pretty cum, pearly and so thick you get jump scared when it leaks out because your pussy tries to weakly clench to keep it inside and it just pushes through. Cums less often but when he does its huge continuous loads, humps against whatever part of you he can like a dog and lays his head on your chest.
You could almost argue he likes anal more than anything else. When he eats you out, you run an extremely high risk of him “getting lost” and starting to eat out your other hole. When his dick slips out, he makes you watch while he slaps it against your clit and drags it through your slick to teasingly act like he’s going to push it into your ass.
Kisses his camera when you fall asleep on facetime if you’re apart from each other. wipes his lips afterwards though for sanitary reasons.
For sure the type to go overboard when someone says they want honest advice. Then when they’re on the verge of tears and he’s made everything worse, he goes “that’s just me though, who am I to judge yk? take it with a grain of salt.”
Museum dates but he’s pointing at depictions of goddesses and saying, “that’s you.”
Will drop kick those annoying Sephora kids if you need a certain product that they’re going after.
Y’all are battling for who has more products, your bathroom so is huge but every time you move something’s always falling off the double vanity sink.
If you need an inhaler or an EpiPen or anything like that, he’ll always have one on him. when you need it, his reaction is so fast you almost can’t see it and he tries to hide how his hands shake slightly even if the attack you're dealing with is more minor.
You could tell him you hate coconut and when you go on your fancy little dates to 5 stars restaurants, if your plate has even the tiniest hint of coconut, he’s sending that back with the harshest glare on his face imaginable (“They asked for no pickles!” *Gunshots* vibes)
Gets jealous of fictional characters, you show the slightest interest in a man who’s literally not real and his eye nearly falls out from how much it twitches.
The possessive bf coded TikTok trends you’d make him do would go crazy though like the nails on his dick through his pants one, any princess treatment one, any one where you’re dancing and he has to cover you, “hey daddy” & other text ones.
Alarms every five minutes, not only for him but he wants to be awake at the same time as you for a bit before you have to go your separate ways during the day. (kisses your temple when you slump against him while you try to wake up)
“What’s up, Petal?”
“What’s up, Coryo?”
While he acts like he’s been doing you a favor all this time, he would get you that engagement ring that has a spike going through the finger bone in it, and he would get a matching one <3.
Double penetration with a dildo that’s a replica of his cock 😻😽
Closet bi (childhood crush on Sejanus, who btw has been eyeing you too much for his liking lately.)
Scars on his back from An Incident. shaved his head and dropped out of school for a bit but it wasn’t hard for his family to get him back in
Gives you the worst side eye when you ask him to play Roblox total drama island with you but when Sejanus offers, he’s galloping to his pc (he absolutely kills it, like he’s undefeated and he’s not afraid to bully whatever kids are in the game)
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a/n: this is lowkey so cringe but i am free. i hate him (i'd tell him i love him on the first date.) will definitely do more with this verse but have this brainrot for now. hope you enjoyed anyway! btw i'll actually be opening comissions next month. so i'd really appreciate it if y'all would keep that in mind! talk to me about modern coryo or any version of coryo lol.
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bellewintersroe · 7 months
Note
hiiiii! can I get something about Lando but reader is Charles or Carlos 's sister? Even just fluff. thank u❤️
thank you for your request!! really in my Lando feels atm fuming after qualifying but it’s fineeee, I love this idea sm I’ve been thinking about it all day <3 <3 You’re Carlos’ younger sister who’s English isn’t so good, but somehow Mr Lando Norris who’s had an eye on you for years has you under his wing, much to Carlos’s surprise.
warnings: none, I just hope this makes sense because I am half asleep writing this.
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“Hello.” A British accent filled your ears, causing your head to turn at the familiar voice, hair bouncing with your movement. Stood besides where you sat was Lando Norris, one of your brothers close friends whom he drove with for many years. Your lips immediately tugged up, blinking in surprise at how much he’d grown, despite the fact he was still a year older than you.
“Lando, hello!” As you stood, Lando felt his heart beat in a funny way, followed by the sensation sinking down to his stomach. Butterflies. He knew he had the hots for you, Carlos’s younger sister, but now he felt nervous?!
“How are you?” You greeted him in a friendly hug, wrapping your arms tightly around the taller boy. You were positive there was a time when you both reached the same height.
“Ummm.” You began, unsure of what he just spoke. Your English was nowhere near as good as your brother or sisters, hell even your dads. “Are you good?” He repeated as your smile widened, offering him an amused beam.
“Good? I am good.” You’d nodded, trying to think the words in English to ask him how he was. “¿Cómo estás?” you’d furrowed your brows, scanning over Lando’s gentle eyes. They still glistened the exact same way they always did, but here now, he somehow looked 10x more handsome than he ever had before.
“Huh?” He frowned a little, at your giggle, his lips tugged right back up. “Good?” You asked, pointing towards him.
“Ohhhh, yes, yes I am good! Are you here to watch Carlos?” Your head cocked to the side, a little confused, offering him a nervous grin. “Ahhh, okay, let me just-” he pulled out his phone, whipping out Google translate. Recognising what it was you immediately laughed out loud.
“What? I want to talk to you?” He giggled innocently, the words not computing in your mind.
“No tengo idea de lo que estás diciendo ahora.” (I have no idea what you are saying right now).
Lando handed you the phone over, playing the Spanish out loud. Google translate distorted the sentences slightly, but it made perfect sense.
I just wanted to talk to you, I haven’t seen you in over a year.
Lando watched you chuckle as you typed back your sentence, eyes fixated to your beauty. Every time you’d come to watch a race or a practice he always sought you out, conversation was difficult, something that frustrated him, he always wanted to get to know you better than what he knew surface level.
how sweet, you should come sit, I hurt my ankle the other week so can’t sit down for long. I can’t believe it’s been a year!
Lando glanced down noticing your bandaged up ankle to which you pursed your lips at playfully before letting out an “ow!” Sound, just to prove how much it hurt. “Okay.” He nodded, sitting besides you on the sofa’s of the paddock.
“What’re you doing in here anyway? Can’t see much of the race from here?” He swallowed, knees knocking against your own bare ones. “¿qué?” Lando cursed, forgetting every now and then he couldn’t just blurt out whatever he wanted.
“It’s ok.” You smiled, using some of the English you knew. The two of you made eye contact, his phone looking extra large in your hands, fingertips brushing against his own. Lando swore you were flirting with him, you were making him feel nervous and Lando never felt nervous around girls.
Time had passed. Neither of you knew how long, but the conversation had flowed so much over Google translate, Lando’s arm resting comfortably behind you. “My English… is… shit.” You copied his curse word. “Yes!!!” Lando squeaked in amusement, slugging an arm over your shoulder and squeezing you.
“Shit, fuck.” You cursed, placing a hand on his leg to stabilise your movement. You saw how Lando’s smirked, licking his lips as his eyes dropped down to where your hand slid off slowly. “Now you’re gonna tell your brother I’ve taught you all this shit.”
“Shit?” You repeated in confusion, eyes trailing down his front, back over his lips. Landon thought he’d melt on the spot under your intense gaze. He was trying to meet it back equally as flirtatiously but he swore his nerves just got in the way. If it wasn’t for Google translate he was positive it would be much sexier.
you’re going to tell your brothers I’ve been teaching you to swear “No!” You exclaimed, laughing and nudging his arm playfully. “Please don’t.”
“O tal vez lo haga y te meta en problemas...” (Or maybe I will and get you in trouble). Your Spanish was so effortlessly sexy to Lando, he always loved a girl who spoke in a foreign accent, maybe that obsession started somewhere between meeting you and speaking to you, but he’d never openly admit that.
“I don’t even know what you’re saying.” He laughed, shaking his head, fingers trailing over your shoulder slightly. You shared a moment of amused eye contact, heart racing at the painfully sexual, intense moment, Lando thought you were going to kiss him. That was until your eyes trailed behind him slightly. The fluttering in his chest stopped when you started giggling, your brother stood behind with a confused expression. “Really?” Carlos sassed, Lando turning up over his shoulder. “Oh hey man.” He spoke casually, too casually. You laughed without even knowing what was being said. “Are you having fun?” Carlos questioned towards Lando, narrowing his eyes at his best friend whose arm was slung over his little sister.
“Y/n, ¿No me di cuenta de que eras tan cercano a Lando?” (I did not realise you were so close to Lando?) The sound of his name mixed with a foreign language he couldn’t understand had him confused. His arm slipped back onto his own lap after realising Carlos was looking rather too inquisitively. Ok maybe he was making moves on his sister, but who could blame him?!
“Sólo estábamos poniéndonos al día. Muchas gracias señor entrometido!” (We were just having a catch up. Thank you very much mr nosy!) Carlos laughed at his younger sister who’d already turned back to the Brit sat besides her, she looked completely enthralled by him, giving him all kinds of heart eyes. Carlos knew he was a nice guy but it was weird seeing his baby sister like this with his closest friend.
“How are you talking?” Carlos then asked Lando who looked a little confused, left out of the conversation prior. “Google translate.” He snickered, waving his phone up. Carlos nodded at the inventiveness. “Ah. Nice.” It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a little awkwardness that lingered as the three of you kinda sat there. Truthfully, Lando and you were waiting for your brothers departure, leaving you be, to continue your conversation- if you could call it that.
“¿Necesitas que te lleven a casa? ¿Me voy ahora?” (Do you need a lift home, I am going now). Carlos then asked you, knowing he was your only option of a ride home, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointment. You were positive Carlos saw it written all over your face, so did Lando.
“What did you say?” Lando questioned. “Oh, I just asked if she wanted a ride home. I brought her.”
“I mean… I can drive her back. We’re having a good time.” He cheeked only a little. He wanted her to stay, he wanted to drive her back. Winding up Carlos in the process was a little funny though.
“Este idiota dijo que puede llevarte a casa. ¿Quieres hacer eso?” (This idiot said he can drive you home. Would you wanna do that?) Your laugh back to Lando caused him to frown back to Carlos who was too laughing. “Hey, what did you say to her? What did you call me? What did he call me?”
“Idiota.” Carlos repeated, teasing again as you laughed in amusement at your brothers antics.
“Me quedaré aquí y me llevarán a casa. Gracias, Lando” (I will stay here and get a lift home. Thank you Lando).
Hearing his words roll off your lips caused his lips to tug up again knowing you’d agreed. “That’s ok.” His tone was much softer rather than when he spoke to Carlos, or anybody else for that matter. With a quick goodbye and a second eyeing up of the boy chatting up his sister, Carlos disappeared, leaving the two of you be again.
You felt a little nervous, for no particular reason. So when his eyes were on you again you’d begun giggling out of nowhere. “You are cute you know that?” Whatever he said, you liked the sound of that…
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urfavlarry · 1 month
Note
hello, I saw your reader who lives in the phantom universe fic and can we please get a pt 2 where reader gets transported back with them and starts school? Reader gets bullied because they haven't seen people for a long time and their social skills are lacking. You can ignore this if you want.
Thank you ❤
Tyler Hernández x reader part II
Part I
warnings: swearing, bad grammar, reader gets bullied, fem!reader
genre: angst with fluff at the end
A/N: if you want an Aiden version, message me<3
translations: hermosa-beautiful, mi reina hermosa- my beauiful queen, amor,mi amor- love, my love, mi vida- my life
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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You groan, rubbing your aching head and hiss in pain as the warm summer sun hits your eyes like daggers. Wait. Warm summer sun? You quickly rise to your feet but stumble back, landing straight on your ass. “What the fuck? Is this what I think it is?” Your hands go through the soft grass, the wind brushing your skin making the temperature just right. Your heart beat quickens as you look around, seeing the oh so familiar house you last saw years ago. You shakily stand up and walk to the house. The door was just a few inches away, yet something was stopping you from knocking; “What if they moved on?” “What if they won’t want me anymore?”
You knock on the door softly and you hear a dog barking and footsteps; “We have a dog?” You wonder but freeze as you hear the door unlocking, and there she was; your mother. “Um, are you—” You get cut off by a bone crushing hug; “Oh Y/N my baby, you.. your back.. my baby..” She sobs into your shoulder as you stand there awkwardly, patting her back. She grabs you by the shoulder and looks at you with puffy eyes; “Where have you been all these years? Look at you! So grown up. Your hair..” She starts to ramble and you look at the house, your pictures still there, your baby photos.. everything was the same. Another pair of footsteps is heard throughout the house and you look past your mom’s shoulder. “Honey who was… it.” Your father drops everything on the floor and runs to you, engulfing you into a big hug, spinning you around. “Y/N I can’t believe it’s you.. you’re okay? Where have you been?” You look at them, your whole body trembling. “I must be dreaming.. this can’t be right.. i’ve bee stuck in that place for so long I must be hallucinating..” You mumble underneath your breath, your knees giving out.
Your parents look at you concerned, your mother going to get something while your father rubs your back soothingly, trying his best to comfort you. Your mother crouches down next to you and lifts your chin up to look at her. “It’s okay baby you’re home.. this is real okay?” She says and hands you a worn out stuffed toy. Your heart melts as you recognize the old thing, hugging it close to your chest. You stay there in their embrace for what feels like hours, not even noticing the fact you fell asleep. The next day you thought you would wake up back in that terrible place, but you didn’t. You woke up in a soft bed, warm blankets on top of you. You recognize the scent of the room immediately and smile softly. “Home..” You mumble and lift yourself up from the bed, your feet hitting the cold ground making your body shudder.
You walk downstairs, your parents making breakfast. You yawn and sit down in the living room, the dog jumping to lay beside you. A second later your mom and dad walk into the living room, handing you your breakfast with a quick kiss on the cheek from your mom. “Good morning, sleep well?” You nod and munch on your breakfast. ‘Finally decent food’ You think to yourself and finish eating. “Wow that was quick.” Your dad jokes and you smile, putting the dishes in the sink and walk back. “Soo.. I was thinking we could go shopping today? Since you only have your old clothes that probably will not fit you at all?” And so it was set!
You had a lot of fun shopping, you saw how styles have changed and well.. how everything has changed. Then it hits you; the other must be worried sick. You disappear into thin air and they don’t know where you are. “I should ask my mom if she knows her parents.” You think to yourself and look at your mom who was now driving you guys back home. “Wow we really sure spent a lot didn’t we?” She jokes and you chuckle awkwardly; “Um mom? Do you by any chance know the Banner family?” You ask and fiddle with your sleeves. She looks at you confused; “Oh they’re our neighbors, why? How do you know them?” “Oh um I saw them when we were going to the car!”
She looks at you unconvinced but drops the subject; “Well if you want we can invite them over? Their daughter Ashlyn is your age!” She smiles enthusiastically and starts to ramble about what she will make for dinner. And so dinner came around, your mother was cooking your favorite and you were setting the table while your dad was just watching TV. “Y/N honey I think they’re here, could you go open the door?” “On it.” You say and run to the door, and there she was; Ashlyn. You smile at them kindly and let them in, Ashlyn looking at you with a “what the fuck” face and you shrug. “Mom, me and Ash are going upstairs!” You don’t give her time to reply and drag Ashlyn to your room, shutting it behind you. “Where have you been!?” She whisper yells and paces around your room. “We were worried sick! Especially Tyler! He’s been going crazy for the past 2 days!” She says and sits down on your bed. You look at her and shrug; “I wish I could tell you how I got here but I really don’t know. I don’t go back at night like you do tho but I guess you’ve noticed that.” She nods and drops the topic for now, talking to you about school and who to avoid. You were starting school tomorrow and to say you were nervous was an understatement. You and Ashlyn would meet up every morning at the bus stop and go to school together along with Aiden and Ben.
The next day it’s just like you planned; meet up with Ashlyn and go to school together. You sat next to her after getting yet another bone crushing hug from Aiden and just a simple wave from Ben who in his own way was glad you were okay. Aiden yapped the whole way to school but you didn’t mind, it was nice being with them again. You were nervous about seeing Tyler. Would he be mad? You don’t know.
You walk with the others to the office to get your schedule which was basically the same since you’re in the same class. Suddenly the halls get crowded, people arriving in school and you get separated from the others, loosing them in the giant crowd. You look around frantically searching for them and try to push through the crowd mumbling quick a ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’. You get pulled back into a bathroom by a black haired boy. He was fairly tall and had shoulder length hair. “I um.. Hi..” You say and fiddle with your hoodie. “Hey newbie you looked like a damned lost puppy in that crowd.” He smirks and makes you back up into a wall. “I.. uh.” “Well what’s your name?” He says and put his arm next to your head, basically caging you there with him. “My name.. it’s ..the.. uh.. I mean it’s Y/N.” You say, slapping yourself internally at the awkward interaction. The boy laughs and goes to speak when another very familiar voice spoke up; “Hey you fucking asshole leave her alone.” He gets pushed off and you scatter to the door of the bathroom, watching Tyler beat the boy. You grab him by the shoulder and speak up; “We should.. go..” Tyler stands up, breathing heavily and leads you away.
Once you get away from the crowd he pulls you into a loving kiss. “You don’t know how much i’ve missed you mi reina hermosa.” He says and hugs you, lifting you up and spins you around. You chuckle and hug him back, kissing him on the cheek. “I missed you too Ty, let’s go to class we can talk later okay?” You say and smile at him, taking his hand and interwine your fingers. He leads you to the class and you get there just in time before the bell rings. You get pulled in front of the class by the teacher and you look down at the ground nervously. “Students this is our new student Y/N L/N, treat them with kindess even if they arrived in the middle of the year.” He says and smiles at you kindly. “Now go ahead and introduce yourself.” Your face feels hot and you stutter our a quick sentance; “Mynameisy/nandIliketolistentomusic.” You say and regret even speaking as most of the class starts to laugh. The teacher shuts them up and you quickly sit down in your seat, resting your head down on the table and try not to think about this awkward day.
And after that day the bullying began. You would get called names, people fake stuttering when talking to you and fiddle with their hands. You laugh awkwardly about it, not knowing how to protect yourself when Tyler wasn’t there to shut them up. You didn’t want to depend on him so you kept quiet about it and bottled up your emotions. Tyler quickly noticed your change in behavior. You were more quiet then usual and you weren’t as talkative as you were when you were in the phantom realm.
One day you were hanging out at his house, him laying on top of you while you played with his hair. He looks up at you with hooded eyes and flips you both so you were now the one on top of him. “Amor what’s up with you lately?” You raise a brow as a sign for him to continue. “Well, ugh.. just.. you’ve been so distant lately and you don’t talk as much as you did before.” He says and sits up, cupping your cheek and traces loving circles on it. “You know if somethings going on you can tell me, right?” He says and smiles softly. You contemplate what to say, should you tell him the truth? Well he already knows something is going on so it would be better if you did. But what if the bullying didn’t stop? What if it only gets worse? You shake off those thoughts and sigh, beginning to speak and tell him everything.
How the bullying started, who bullies you, how they bully you, literally everything. You ramble on and on, trying your best to tell him that it’s nothing but he shuts you up with a quick peck on the lips. “Y/N this is serious you know? It’s okay to be nervous around people. I mean, how long have you been without human contact aside me and the rest of the group?” He asks and you stay silent and frown. “Exactly. I promise to be here for you from now on and I am so sorry I haven’t been this entire time mi vida.” He says and pulls you into a warm embrace, inviting you to let out all of your emotions, which you do. You sob and ramble for what feels like hours on end and calm down after talking about it some more with Tyler. Your eyes were puffy and you looked away from him and joke; “Don’t look at me i’m probably not the prettiest sight right now.” You chuckle and wipe away your tears.
He pulls you closer by the waist and peppers your face with kisses, making you giggle. “You.Are.The.Most.Prettiest.Girl.In.The.World.” He says im between kisses and gives you one last kiss on the lips. “But really mi amor if anyone bothers you from now on come and tell me, but I will be by your side most of the time now okay?” Your hearts mealts and nod, laying back down with him and think to yourself; “Home at last..”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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crxss01 · 10 months
Text
— Rosa Pastel
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ e-42!miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ you find out about miles being the prowler which leads to a breakup.
warnings ✧˖ ° reader is given feminine nicknames, angst, a few curse words, toxic relationship, possessiveness, mentions of murder and violence (not towards reader), threats.
m. list, main m.list.
playing ⋆。˚ rosa pastel by belanova
translations ✧࿓☾ princesa: princess
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most of the time you didn't question all of the things miles said or did, like that one time he beat up another guy for looking at you in a way that according to him was absolutely suggestive or that time he went through your phone when he saw you laughing and smiling as you texted.
"i just don't want anything to come in between us, princesa." he had said when you got mad at him for that. "here you can check mine."
you refused to check his phone and that was something you deeply regretted because maybe just maybe you could've found out about this sooner.
now you stood in-front of him, miles having come through his window unknowingly of your presence inside of his room. you had frozen when you were about to tackle him in a hug, looking at what he was wearing.
this wasn't right.
miles wasn't a criminal. he could be intense and cold to others, but he wasn't one of those people who hurt and killed others. and he most definitely was not the prowler.
"mami, what..." he stared back at you, his mask coming off and his eyes wide.
"miles... what the fuck is this?" you pointed at his suit. "please, please tell me this is some kind of stupid joke."
but it wasn't a joke, you knew that he didn't like jokes. it reminded you of that time that you decided to do a prank on him about you cheating, how badly that ended. with him breaking your phone, you in tears, him blaming you for getting him mad and then comforting you telling you that he didn't mean to blow up on you and that he would buy you a new phone (which he did) and made you promise that you would never prank him like that again but there was a dark edge to his voice. a threat, so you never pranked him after that.
and it took a while but you found out that the new phone was connected to his and he could see everything you did on it, who you called, who you texted, your bank account, everything and when you spoke out to him about it he made up an excuse about how it was for your safety and that he just wanted to protect you.
you saw nothing wrong with that, but now the longer that you stared at him with that suit on the faster that everything was coming back to bite you in the ass.
"i can explain, chiquita." he said, taking your hands in his.
"no!" you pushed him away, taking your hands out of his. "miles, you can't be s—serious." your voice broke.
tú no eres aquel que prometió seria mi superhéroe
was this really the boy you once met? the one who was considered a genius and was appointed to tutor you because you were failing one of your classes? the one who asked you out on a date about two dozen tutor sessions later? the one who didn't kiss you on your first date because his mom said that it was rude? the one who finally kissed you on your fifth date? the one who after 1 year of dating gave you a promise ring, promising to always love and protect you from the cruelty of this world?
why did he promise that when he was part of that evil?
“explain, but… but don’t touch me.” you gulped, suddenly feeling a sense of fear.
“i became this when my dad died, you saw how bad things were going in this city. how evil the people were becoming and—”
“you decided to join them?” you interrupted.
“let me speak, mami.” he had the nerve to demand. “i wanted to protect you and mom, so i needed to become this.” he tried to reason.
“no you didn’t, you could’ve found another way to protect us. the prowler is the biggest criminal right now and you come to me with this bullshit about protecting your mom and me? you protect us by killing? by robbing? and by doing whatever else it is that you do?!” you snapped, feeling anger overtaking your fear.
you had never yelled at miles, no matter how mad he made you, no matter how much he stressed you out by canceling dates without a reason but now you knew why and you knew that this change of tone was not appreciated by him one bit.
“watch your mouth.” he glared at you. “you should feel grateful that i do that—”
“oh, i’m sorry that i don’t like the fact that you kill people.”
“those people aren’t innocent. they—”
“you are not innocent either, miles.” you shook your head.
“mami, i really love you but if you don’t stop interrupting me—”
“what? you will kill me like you did them?” you challenged.
if looks could kill, you would be dead. “imma let that one slide, but don’t do it again. now listen to me, i don’t go around killing people who don’t deserve it. i kill criminals like me, people without a heart, i know i ain’t innocent but i do this for a cause and it is to protect the two most important people in my life right now. you are one of them, princesa. i don’t want anyone to hurt you in any type of way or to come in between us.”
he had said the last sentence so many times before that it was graved into your brain. it hurt a lot because right now you had only one thing in mind.
yo te olvidaré
“you are the only person coming in between us.” you sighed, tears threatening to spill out. “i’m sorry miles, but i can’t do this. i can’t be with you, i don’t know why it took me so long to realize this but what we have isn’t healthy and i also do not wish to be with someone who is a criminal and controls me so much.”
“mami, you don’t mean that.” miles almost sounded like he was begging for you to change your mind but one look at his cold eyes and you couldn’t tell.
me olvidaras
“don’t call me that.” you said, grabbing your handbag. “the start was nice, but it has become too much since then and right now it was made even worse.” you took off the promise ring, instantly missing the shining gold weight on your finger.
you stretched your hand out, passing it to him but he made no move to take it just staring at it so you decided to grab his hand, opening his palm and putting the ring on it before closing the fingers around it.
“goodbye, miles.” you left his room, letting the tears fall free down your cheeks and onto the floor. walking away from all the beautiful and bad memories that you had made with miles.
hasta nunca
“you’ll come back, princesa. i’ll make sure of that.”
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated! there will be a part 2 ;)
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jellycrusher · 5 months
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Wolves and Lambs: Part 3
Alpha Max Verstappen x Omega fem!driver
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Genre: Series, Omega verse, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Eventual smut
Synopsis: Male Alphas are the ones who dominate motor sports all around the world, especially Formula 1. It is a well known fact. Females in general nor Female Omegas are never heard nor encouraged to join the sport since the 1950s. Well, up until now...
Word Count: 3.9k
Chapter’s Premise: "You are his mate."
Taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @fanboyluvr @giffywiffy3408 @notyouraveragemochii @cmleitora @exotic-iris13 @topguncultleader @mirrorball-6 @barcelonaloverf1life @silscintilla
Parts: W&L masterlist / general masterlist
"Mom, how did you know Dad was The One?"
"I just knew. Your dad was a mighty Alpha, someone who commands attention and respect with every step. Out of everyone I've dated, his pheromones were the only one that affected me to such great extent. Turns out he felt the same way with my pheromones."
"Pheromones?"
"Oh my dear y/n. My sweetheart. Someday you'll know in your heart when you meet the right person."
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The sound of the V6 engine. Crowds going wild. The feeling of starting on the front row. Red lights go one by one. It's a rush. Nothing can beat this.
Max was quick to snatch the lead from you on Turn 1. Charles also proved he was a tough act to beat. Ferrari's car was faster on the straights but Aston Martin has amazing rear grip during high speed corners.
And for this track with 4 long straights, fast straight line speed was needed. Even with DRS to assist you, you couldn't keep up with Charles. It was degrading your tire too much.
By lap 35, you descended to P12 after a horrific slow pit stop of 3.4 secs. The pressure got to you and you were about to radio-in your frustration but you were also quick to clear your mind.
Y/N: "What is the gap to the car ahead, Ben?!" Ben: "Albon ahead by 2 secs, then Gasly by 4 secs." Y/N: "All on old tires?"
Ben: "Confirm."
You quickly maneuvered your way on the first chicane going on the inside, easily overtaking Albon and Gasly. You gave everything that you can to battle it out with the Mercedes pair. Russell locked up and you took this opportunity to go for wide and overtake. You were in DRS range of Hamilton during the straight and you went for it as you both take the corner.
The remaining laps felt like an eternity. The confidence you had on your car the past few days didn't translate to today's race. Pre-season testing and Qualifying laps were different. Back then, you were getting a feel on the car without actually pushing it to the limit. But now? It's like getting an expensive exclusively tailored running shoe and using it for a marathon after only practicing with it for a few days.
Everyone had their difficulties on the first track of the season since this will be the first time these cars will be tested against each other's. These are experienced drivers. Driving in F2 compared to this is a whole different story.
And then the race ended much quicker than you've anticipated.
As much as you wanted a podium on your first race, it didn't happen. You were grateful to have gotten the pole position during qualifying but you repeat to yourself that P5 on your first race isn't bad. You could've given more but you aren't attuned to the car just yet. It'll get there.
You halt your car at parc ferme along with the other drivers. As you crawl and lift yourself up out the cockpit, the other drivers went on to congratulate you. Pierre and Alex were so quick to put their arm on your shoulders after you removed your helmet and balaclava.
"That was some amazing driving!"
"You got some moves, y/l/n!"
Both cheered at the same time and Pierre even rustled your hair. Yuki and Esteban joined them in congratulating you. Even the elder drivers such as Lewis and Fernando were amused at the camaraderie you've built with the other drivers.
Max was also able to notice your closeness with the other drivers from where he was standing. He had already celebrated with his mechanics and is just waiting at the side to wait for his turn while Carlos is being interviewed for finishing third.
He doesn't usually make a lot of effort to befriend any rookie but it left a bad taste on his tongue knowing that he's the only one you're not in good terms with. His friends are a good judge of characters and seems to be enjoying your company. Being the competitive person that he is, surely it won't be that hard to make you see him as a friend.
After the podium celebration and media commitments, you were summoned back to the hospitality and had a debriefing with the whole team. Datas upon datas are presented on the screen. The team discussed what worked and what didn't work during the whole race weekend.
Fernando praised how technically involved you are with the team for the car's development. In this line of work, you can't be too critical of yourself or else, it might even negatively affect your performance. P5 was a feat worth celebrating.
You ask Megan if you could stay for a bit inside the room to re-watch your race. Your notebook is your only company while you endlessly analyze every bit of your race.
It was enlightening and relaxing after an hour of working alone in the de-briefing room of the Aston Martin hospitality. You bid goodbye to the other mechanics and engineers that were still in the garage and walked across the paddock to your car.
You see, in the paddock, all hospitalities are arranged closest to farthest from the entrance based on your place in the championship last season. It's a given that the race leaders (Red Bull, Ferrari, and Mercedes) are the ones near the entrance. The midfield teams and back markers are at the end
A real Walk of Shame.
But with Alonso's and Lance's help last year, Aston Martin has now become part of the mid-field and a contender for being frontrunner.
You passed by the Ferrari hospitality when you heard Charles' voice calling out your name. He runs to catch up to you and matches your pace.
"Didn't expect you to stay behind as well." Charles called.
"I wasn't satisfied with my performance." You huffed.
"That was one of the best rookie performances on an opening race I've seen so far. Don't be too hard on yourself." He voiced. "Have fun! It's nerve-wracking but one of the best experiences you'll ever feel." Charles pats your head gently.
"You're right. I'm actually having fun looking at the reactions of the boys whenever I beat them." You joked.
"As harsh as it sounds, I'm glad there's a healthy rivalry between you and the grid. Anyways, how will you get back to the hotel?" Charles asked.
"I brought a car. How about you?"
Charles just grinned and chuckled without saying a word. As if waiting for a response.
You come to a realization on what he was hinting. "Do you want to hitch a ride with me?"
Charles did a poor attempt of a wink and did a thumbs-up gesture. You almost snorted in amusement because the man could not wink properly at all. Thank God, he's good-looking.
"As long as I'm driving." You suggest and Charles hitched a breath. "No arguments or else, I'm leaving you here." You looked around at an almost empty paddock.
He contemplated for a minute. "Fine. Just for the record, I am against this and I wanted to be a gentlemen. You owe me a car ride but next time, you're my passenger." Charles gave in and didn't insist.
"Deal."
The drive to the hotel was short but it didn't feel awkward at all. Charles was such a goofball especially when he opened the window and stuck his head out to scream. Clearly, he was on a high for bagging a podium.
There was a brief moment where you and Charles' eyes met. It was actually comforting, rather than awkward. He was comfortable being goofy around you and you were grateful that somehow this moment made you forget how you were beating yourself up because of the race result.
Charles turns up the speaker after he connects it to his phone and even invites you to sing out loud to As It Was by Harry Styles. He bobs his head so hard and screamed every lyrics out the window. You've seen the reactions of some of the people you've passed by. They're either weirded out by a strange man screaming his lungs out or amazed after they've recognized that it was the Charles Leclerc.
A crowd of people were waiting outside the hotel, screaming and cheering when you and Charles arrived at the hotel lobby. Charles waved at them and you dropped the car key to the valet. His fans were screaming his name in a deafening manner.
Charles walked towards them to sign a few merch items that the fans were holding out.
Somebody screamed out your name and it made you stop in your tracks from entering the lobby. It didn't occur to you that you would have fans this early in the season. You were just a rookie. Still a nobody.
Charles also called out your name and pointed at your fans when you turned.
Two small kids and their mom were screaming your name, beaming with joy. As you go near them, you stretched out your hand to take the shirt they're holding that visibly shows your number.
The kid was so adorable when she saw you signing her shirt. She was grinning from ear to ear, bouncing up and down while tugging her mother's shirt.
"She's a massive fan. She said she wanted to be like you when she grows up." Her mother leans slightly forward to whisper.
"Thank you so much! That's such a high honor." You replied as you knelt down and ruffled the kid's hair. "Did you watch my race?"
The kid aggressively nods. "Yes. You were great! I couldn't take my eyes off you from the screen. I promise to watch your race every time!"
"Well, then I promise that you have something worth watching for." You hand back the shirt to the kid and stood up.
Charles was done taking photos and signing stuff for the fans at the same time you were walking back to the lobby.
"Thanks for the ride! I enjoyed it." Charles turns to you after entering the lobby.
"Just rate your Uber Driver 5 stars please." You chuckle. "I enjoyed it too. You're my favorite passenger so far."
Charles was about to talk but was cut by Carlos who suddenly appeared beside him, arms crossed on his chest. You notice that he wasn't aware of your presence yet.
"Hey Charles! Why did I hear from your manager that you refused to use the car back to the hotel? You left it in the parking lot at the --"
Carlos choked at the sudden slap on his back by Charles. "Really? I wasn't aware that we had a car for me." Charles nervously muttered.
The poor man was confused at Charles' deflection but realized straight away when he noticed you watching the two of them. He stood straight up and waved at you.
"Hey Carlos! I brought back your partner in one piece. He hitched a ride with me." You cackled.
"Did he go crazy again? Turned up your speakers on max?" he asks.
"YES! He was a great passenger though." You beamed.
"Hear that? I was a 5-star passenger." Charles puffed out his chest.
"Yes, yes. Mate, you're late for dinner." Carlos said as he pats Charles' shoulder.
"Oh right!" Charles gasped. "Thank you again for the ride. If you need a driver, don't hesitate to contact me. Okay?" he adds as he slowly walk away with Carlos. You nod and gleamed in return.
It was a peaceful walk back to your room. The thrill of your first F1 race was slowly dying down. You weren't as dejected as you were a few minutes ago. Thanks to all the people who were supporting you.
Your phone buzzed as you exit the elevator. You pull it out from your pocket and saw an unexpected name.
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HE WHO MUST BE AVOIDED AT ALL TIMES: Hi Y/n! I just would like to congratulate you for a great race. I saw some of the highlights in the cooldown room.
Aston Martin Y/N: Thank you Max. You too, congratulations on P1!
HE WHO MUST BE AVOIDED AT ALL TIMES: So I guess you also have a team dinner?
Aston Martin Y/N: Just a simple one here at the hotel. Nothing too fancy.
Aston Martin Y/N: I'm sure Red Bull would celebrate your win.
HE WHO MUST BE AVOIDED AT ALL TIMES: I didn't want to but Christian insisted. They've started to open the champagnes. Checo also brought some tequila.
Aston Martin Y/N: Tequila as a post-race reward actually sounds good right now
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You assumed that was the end of your conversation but it also surprised you that it continued to go on. You were even replying to his messages during your team dinner.
Max was surprisingly easy to talk to. He could throw very hilarious jokes and even shared some memes with you that some fans have made from the Bahrain GP. The one that got you on a chokehold was a meme of George during the driver's parade. A true meme king. You almost snorted out your nose the water you were drinking while you were checking your phone.
Your constant exchange of banters with Max went on even during the two week break until the Saudi Arabia Grand Prix. You haven't yet talked to him personally outside of the phone conversations. It was easier this way. If only his scent wasn't a cause of your torment, you and Max could even be better friends.
Good thing that almost all of the drivers were so busy with media commitments come Wednesday of the Saudi Arabia GP. Even if you enjoy being text mates with Max, you still felt the need to avoid him.
In contrast with what you feel, you find yourself checking your phone almost every hour to see if you've gotten a message. It was quiet.
"How many times have I seen you checking your phone today? Are you waiting for a text?" Oscar asks as he walks with you through the paddock.
"Nah. I don't know. Kinda feels weird my phone is quiet. Must be busy." You murmured. "I heard Lando saying that you have New York Cheesecake for dessert. Can you spare some for me? Steal some from the Mclaren hospitality? Pretty please?" You hide your phone in your pocket and gestured puppy eyes at Oscar while tugging his shirt.
"Geez, you're such a sweet tooth. Fine, I'll steal some and deliver it to your garage later." Oscar replied. He effortlessly leans his arm on your head and teases you.
"Thanks Mom!" You skipped in joy.
"You have to stop calling me that. If that gets out, the people in the internet will surely start making memes of me as Mom Piastri." He jokes.
"That doesn't sound too bad, Mom." You teased the Australian Driver.
Max just got out of the Red Bull hospitality with his physio when he quickly noticed the two of you meters away from him. He takes note of how often he sees you in such a sunny disposition with the other drivers. He wanted to take out his phone and text you right then but was interrupted when his physio called him out.
It's finally race week!
The pace of your car was wonderful during FP1 and FP2 on the first day. There were no issues and the car was enjoyable to drive. You always land in P2 to P4, and it made you confident going into FP3, qualifying and the race.
However, something felt a bit odd on the second day.
Y/N: "There's a bit of a smell. A strange smell coming from the car. Is something wrong?" Ben: "Okay, we'll have a look." Y/N: "Doesn't feel different when driving but can you please double check?" Ben: "Nothing's coming up on our monitors. You can continue." Y/N: "Copy."
This started during FP3 but thankfully, you were able to finish it with no issues.
During Q1, things started to reach a decrescendo. Even the commentators were starting to get uneasy with how many reports you were giving back to your engineer.
Y/N: "My downshifts are really, really bad." Ben: "Standby." Y/N: "They're just super long. The whole downshift procedure." Ben: "Is there a specific corner?" Y/N: "The last corner is fucked up."
What happened on Q2 was the one that takes the cake. It ended your qualifying stint before you even had the chance to get everything out of the car.
Y/N: "Uhh I have a problem. Engine. Engine Problem. It's almost not accelerating." Ben: "Ok. Understood y/n. Well, we'll do what we can. We're happy for you to try and limp home, if possible."
"Traumatic twist that no one saw coming. The dominant Aston Martin car could not complete Qualifying. and y/n will have to fight through from 15th at best." Brundle commentates.
You went back to the hotel feeling dejected and almost wanted to stay cooped up in your room but the boys were so eager for you to join them for a short game night.
The boys were so chaotic playing Overcooked 2 in Lando's room. Yuki and Pierre were screaming at each other on whether they should throw the burgers their avatars were holding or place it on the counter, while Lando and Alex were bickering and laughing while they figure out how to maneuver their avatars.
"I could use some stress reliever. Thank you." You said as you nudge Oscar's side.
"We all needed it." Oscar replies.
Oscar was quick to react when a knock was heard on the door. He ran to get it and came back with Charles and Max following behind.
"Max, such a surprise to see you here!" Alex calls out Max while his eyes are still glued to the screen.
"I begged for him to come." Charles gleefully pats Max's chest and sat beside Alex.
Max sees you standing on the other side of the bed near Pierre and Yuki. You wave at him and he waves back. This was the first time you've interacted with him this weekend.
The first game ended and the boys gave the controllers to the rest of the group. Oscar sat beside you while Charles and Max sat together.
Charles suggested that they change teammates since Charles and Max's team usually wins during game night. As a handicap, Charles would be your teammate and Oscar would be with Max.
You laugh at the suggestion because when Oscar sat down beside Max, he reverted back to his introverted self. He wasn't as close with Max unlike with the others. He looked like a scared little lamb.
Charles was hilarious all throughout the game. He was even more riled up than you. You let him shout the steps to you while you concentrate on finishing the tasks.
Oscar was doing good with Max. They were bickering like kids but they were able to finish the task better than you and Charles. Max was now standing and focusing on the screen like nothing else mattered.
Everyone was basically cheering and screaming at this point. It wouldn't be a surprise if somebody reported a noise complaint.
At the end of the night, everyone bid goodbye to Lando and Oscar and walked back to the elevator together.
"I'm glad you had fun." Max whispers as he leans closer to you. Both of you were at the back of the group.
"I didn't expect for you to join us but I'm glad you did. Now we have the right amount of people to play the game." You replied.
"Oh right..." Max pauses. "Well, I'm glad I came."
Everyone got in the elevator with you being the last one to enter. The boys were still chatting with each other as you were looking at the screen at the side which says the floor. It dinged on the next floor and a group of five entered.
The other 6 drivers were now quiet while the five strangers were chatting. All of you got pushed back and you were now leaning hard against Max who was behind you.
You try your best not to be nervous at the sudden close proximity between you and the dutch driver. Your body burns at the sensation of his hands at your waist trying to steady you after you waddle out of balance when another person got inside the elevator, further pushing you against Max.
Max noticed a sweet scent within the elevator. Probably from the other people who just came in, he thought. However, when his face got close to backside of your neck, the scent got stronger. He can't help but be drawn to the succulent scent you're emitting from your nape.
Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt Max's breath brush against your skin. You could almost feel Max's chest purring against your back.
Max's scent was also starting to change and you were the only one to notice it. The scent emitting from him was sweet and musky. You could almost whimper at how ambrosial it smells. There was no sense of fear, but pure elation.
The other drivers were blissfully unaware of the tension building up between you and Max as they chat away with the others. You also see Charles joking around with Alex and Pierre.
Max felt your knees buckle slightly and his hands that were on your waist steadies you. Unaware of his surroundings, he continues to take in your delectable scent.
"Stop it, Max..." You whisper, careful not to let anyone else hear you but Max.
He was getting drunk with your scent. It was making him dizzy and he couldn't get enough of it. Like a bee being attracted to a flower's nectar.
His fingers on either side of your waist were now starting to bore into your skin. His growls were now getting slightly audible. The other drivers faintly heard it and were starting to notice a sweet scent as well but didn’t actually realize those were coming from you two. You gripped his right wrist but it didn't even faze Max.
It took him out of his trance when you nudged his stomach with your elbow after you heard the elevator ding and the strangers exited. You stride to the side beside Yuki, and Max steps away opposite to you.
No one could describe what happened between you and Max in that elevator. It left the both of you flushed and panting. Your minds lingering on each other's touch. Eyes glued to each other's gaze.
One by one, the drivers stopped at their respective floors. Leaving you and Max to be the last one left in the elevator. Max's eyes never left you. You avoid his gaze and frantically pressed the elevator button.
Max makes his way to you and slaps his hand on the wall next to you, pinning you in position by his proximity. Completely towering over you.
"Care to explain what happened?" Max grumbled, fighting through his daze.
"I don't know what you mean." You whimpered.
"I'm not stupid. Your smell..." Max slowly leans his face near the crook of your neck. He growls under his breath after one whiff of your scent. "Unlike any pheromones I've smelled."
Max was now burying his face in your neck. You notice the screen on the wall about to stop on your floor. "Max!" You push him slightly, freeing yourself away from him.
You stepped out of the elevator, fighting for your life to stay sane and not get affected by Max's scent. Max's eyes were droopy and his lips were glistening.
Max had no control over his body. He was frustrated that he wasn't able to stop you from fleeing away from him. The farther you ran away, the more his daze faded. The doors of the elevator were now closed and continued to ride up the building.
He knew exactly what had happened. He heard about this from Checo and his parents. There was no denying that you were an Omega and the reason why the both of you had felt that way earlier was because the two of you were fated to meet.
You are his mate.
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Next part: Part 4
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Rebellion pt.1
Pairing- Sully family x Sully!reader
Summary- Your going through a rebellion amd how easy can it be for your siblings to keep all the stuff they see you doing a secret.
Na'vi Translations- au- drum, Reypaytun- red, tsmisnr- lantern, 'ite- daughter
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3
A/N- did i make up two whole ass plants up for this fic yes yes I did and there will be a pt. 2 i just need to come up with ideas for it
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Rules. Rules. Rules. That's all your father talked about. Who you can't hang out with. What you can't wear. Can't say. Can't do. Can't, Can't Can't. That's all he does, you're sick and tired of his rules.
First it started with the clothes. You had to wear shawls over your open armed tops, you threw all your shawls away. No short or high split loincloths. You started dressing how you wanted, regular revealing tops that everyone loved, and high slit loin skirts and loincloths.
.
.
.
.
"Y/N, Dad’s gonna skin you alive if he sees you in that." Kiri hissed as she saw you pull your low waisted loin skirt on. You turn to Kiri and put your hands on your hips. "You forget Kiri. I don't care what dad thinks because I am my own person." You say before pushing yourself out of your room and Kiri only shakes her head.
.
.
.
.
And then the parties. Every teen in the Omatikaya snuck out at night and snuck deeper in the woods to drink fermented nectar and smoke the Reypaytun flower, but not the Olo'eyktan's kids who had too many rules.
As you heard the light snoring of your mother and father, you got out of your cot and changed into your clothes. Opening a curtain window, you dip your feet over it and jump out following the other young Na'vi into the woods. You caught a few peoples eyes and a boy approaches you, Ao'zuk that's his name, an amazing healer. "I didn't know you came to these things." He said over the loud beat of the au. "I didn't." You say before taking his cup of nectar taking a big sip, it was bitter with a slight sweet aftertaste. "But I do now." You say and he smirks.
And that's how your nights went, did whatever duties your father humbly bestowed upon you during the day, and when Eclipse hit and all the adults were asleep you snuck out, drank, smoked, danced, and touched.
Little did you know your little brother, Neteyam, saw your nightly exhibitions and he wanted to know what you did. So he waited. Waited for you to change and sneak out, waited thirty minutes and followed the muffled sound of music.
And then he stepped into a swarm of dancing, making out, grinding, drinking, and smoking teens. And then he saw you sitting on someone's legs and they placed a small flower on your tongue. You swallowed as your already glazed eyes felt the flower kick in, pupils dilating in and out. Euphoria rushed through your veins as the man you sat on stuffed a bag into your bag and then you thanked him. You stayed there with a lazy smile as you blink up at the sky. Neteyam rushes home, what have you done to yourself?
He didn't know what to do. He crawled back into bed and closed his eyes. Only to shoot back open when he heard you creep back into the kelku. He heard you sit on the bed and open the bag and take another one. He cringes at the rustles of the bag, oh how he just wished this was a dream.
So he held hope that it was.
It wasn't.
He woke up and you held your bag to your chest protectively. He gulped thinking about what you had in there before shaking his head, getting ready for his duties for the day.
And as you stumbled up he never saw you without your bag by your side. Now it was time for the communal lunch, He sat by you and you looked over to him before taking a bite of the fruit in your hand. He wanted to know what is so cool about this stuff that you do all of it. “Y/N, can you take me to the party tonight, since mom and dad are on that hunting trip.." Neteyam whispered to you as Lo'ak sat between the two of you. "Oooo party, I'm so coming." He said and you were shocked. Swallowing the food in your mouth, "Um neither of you are going." You say and Lo'ak looked at you with disbelief. "If we can't come I'll tell mom and she'll tell dad—"
"Okay, okay! Just.. don't fall asleep. I don't feel like walking your heavy sleeping ass up." You reply to them before returning your attention to your food.
And so the two boys laid awake, until they heard the soft snoring of your sisters. They crouched out of bed after you changed. And just before they climbed out the window after you they heard an all too familiar voice. "Where are you guys going?" Kiri's voice rang through your ears and you regretted even letting them come along. And before you even knew it she was tagging along as well, holding her bag and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
You curse under your breath as you walk into the woods, younger siblings on your tail. Finally you made it, the sounds of loud pamtseo howling through the wind. Ao'zuk walked up to you and your siblings, reeking of fermented nectar as his arms wrapped around your waist. "Ao'zuk." You said warningly. "Come tìyawn I just got some fresh reypaytun from Za'kin." He said hands going a little lower than wanted.
Removing his hands, "Go wait for me." You say and he stumbles to the group who passed a pipe around.
"Reypaytun really?" Kiri asked and you rolled your eyes. "I thought dad told us to never to touch that stuff." Lo'ak asked. "I don't see dad here and besides, I'm gonna go have some fun," you say, starting to walk off before turning back to your siblings, "Don't take anything anyone gives you and only drink water." You instruct your younger siblings who looked bewildered that you were leaving them.
You sit next to Ao'zuk and he hands you the pipe but not before taking a huge hit. You settle closer to his side and take a hit before passing it again waiting for the effects to take place.
And they did, your blood ran fast, puplis bigger than ever as you danced, hips and arms swaying in the wind as you danced to the beat with the others. You feet and head hurt, you grabbed onto Ao'zuk and he gives you a lazy smile as he held your hips making you dance. Your head spun and your eyes were half-lidded and red as you shook your head no. "You’re having fun." Ao'zuk laughed and you felt like you wanted to cry but all you did was smile and say yes.
Neteyam saw you from the side and he felt his stomach churn the more he saw the distress in your eyes.
Finally you stumbled off the dance floor and caught your breath. The woods, the fire, the music it was getting to you, you held your head in your hands as the trees started to move and blend together. And then you felt a hand on your arm making you blink. It was Ao'zuk he held something in his hand before sliding it to you. "It'll take the edge off." He yelled as you put it in your mouth drinking the rest of the nectar in your cup.
Stumbling to your siblings, your eyes glazed over and bloodshot red, you point to the hometree and they went. "Did you have fun?" Lo'ak asked and you looked at him and gave him a lazy smile with tears in your eyes as you spoke. "Yeah."
None of your siblings spoke of what happened that night. But Neteyam couldn't get the despair that took over your face that night. He couldn't let you ruin yourself. No matter how much you were going to hate him for what he was about to do.
Neteyam waited for you to sneak out and he knew tonight would be the night your parents got back. He waited for them with a tsmisnr to keep a dim light. As he heard the rustles of the makeshift curtain that acted like a front door, he watched his parents walk in quietly. Jake jumps a bit seeing his oldest son sitting in a dimly lit room.
"Son." Jake whispered and Neteyam’s palms got sweaty, his stomach bubbling in anxiety.
"Um, I have something to tell you guys." Neteyam said and his mother looked confused as she sat down along with her husband.
"What is it?" Neytiri asked and Neteyam looked up. "Y/N, she's been sneaking out and drinking and using Reypaytun and she takes these small flowers and I can't just watch her do this to herself and.. and so I'm telling you guys." Neteyam stammers out and he watches as Neytiri's face falls as well as his father’s, from the new load of information they learned of their eldest daughter.
"Where is she now?" Jake asks gruffly and Neteyam sighed. "At a party." Neteyam answered and Jake sighed deeply. "I will go see if my mother will watch the children and Neteyam so we can talk to her whenever she gets back." Neytiri said and Neteyam shook his head. "No, I told you guys I should be here when she comes home." Neteyam replies before Jake nodded as Neytiri picked up Tuk and woke the others up.
They waited and waited. It was quite a long time till you got back, Jake began to get irritated and Neytiri worried. And then they heard shuffling in the other room.
You walk in and don't see your siblings, worried, you walk into the other room, and your eyes widen as you see your brother sitting with your parents and avoiding eye contact with you.
"Y/N, come sit down." Jake said roughly and you clutched your bag as you sat down. "Yes..?" You say as you sit at the table that you father made. "Where were you?" Jake hoped you'd tell the truth.
You straighten your back and look down at your trembling legs. "With my friends." You reply simply and Jake clicks his tongue. "We know the truth Y/N, your brother told us." You look at him and then at Neteyam. "Told you what?" You ask, face and palms getting hot. "We know you've been sneaking out, smoking, drinking and about those flowers you take." You had a deadpan expression on your face and then you realized Neteyam had told on you.
"I don't know what your talking about." You try and lie your way out. "Neteyam told us." Neytiri said and you send a deadly glare towards your younger brother. "And you believe him! Huh?!" You exclaim and Jake holds his hands up. "Well Y/N, why would he lie about this?”
You push yourself out of your chair and rub your face before huffing. "I don't know why he would do that. But I- I have no clue what you're talking about." You refused to give it up and Neteyam just wanted it to stop.
"Open your bag Y/N." Neteyam said and you eyed him from where you were. "No." You say and Jake looks at his son and then at you. "Come 'ite give me the bag." Neytiri reaches for the bag that was placed on your shoulder and you snatch it away from the woman, panic running through your body.
"I don't know why you’re all ganging up on me." You defend yourself.
"No one is ganging up on you sweetie. Just give me the bag." Jake said and you shook your head but before you knew it he had already grabbed your bag. You tried to snatch it back but it was too late as he and your mother now stood in front of you looking between you and the bag. Your chest heaved with every breath you took. You were so nervous, more nervous than you've ever been.
Jake opened the bag and he closed his eyes as he saw a bag full of small flowers, pollen, a substance that gets you so high you forget your own name.
''Really,'' He said taking the smaller bag in his hand and throwing it on the table. You close your eyes and whisper a quiet 'fuck'. Before covering your face and huffing into your hands and taking them off and quietly laughing. ''Fuck me.'' You say as a pitful excuse of a chuckle erupts from your throat.
''I thought we taught you better than this.'' Jake said and you looked at him and laughed. ''Yeah well looks like you didn't'.” You say and then your bloodshot eyes look at Neteyam who had a confused look on his face.
''Neteyam can you leave?'' You point to the door before an irritated breath leaves your lungs and his nonexistent eyebrows furrow. “Why? Y/N, I'm just trying to help you.'' He asked and you clench your jaw. ''Because honestly looking at you makes me physically. fucking. ill.'' You yell at him making him flinch, his ears laid still on the sides of his head.
''Y/N!'' Jake yelled at you and you look over rolling your eyes. ''Neteyam, son, go with your other siblings.'' Neytiri told her eldest son who nodded and left.
Your other siblings seemed to be eavesdropping and he shooed them off they all held a shocked face. You had never yelled at them before but here you are.
Turning back to your father, you sneer, why'd Neteyam have to tell? That's what you were thinking over and over again. "Y/N I've tolerated the clothes, but now sneaking out and- and now this." He said picking up the bag on the table. Rolling your eyes once more. "Just tell us what's gotten into you, babygirl-" he goes to touch your cheek but you step away from him.
"Nothing has gotten into me, I'm sorry I'm not daddy's little girl anymore, and don't listen to every stupid rule you make. You don't know shit about me,, neither of you do so stop pretending that you do." You say before walking out of the home leaving your parents confused, what happened to their little girl?
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conitagray · 10 months
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ dating miles morales 42 (hc's)
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pairing: miles morales!42 x reader
warning/s: creepy men, harassment(?), cursing, BAD spanish (im so sorry yall idk how to speak spanish😭😭)
it’s actually fluff no angst i swear (maybe a little..)
a/n: guys… i’ve fallen for miles morales 42 it’s an obsesssion i SWEARR and also does anyone think that miles reminds me of bruno mars music or is it me-?!-)/
┊ ➶ 。˚   °
okayokay
this boy is not open to heavy pda
like a small waist grab and a shoulder touch here and there
but he is SO touchy when you guys aren’t in public
like he will not keep his hands off of you
if his body isn’t touching you somehow
what is he doing then??
bro will NOT let you pay for ur own shit
like u already can afford it but miles is like
"nah imma pay for it, anything for mi amor"
literally if u buy something w ur own money
he would get pissed like
"if ur payin for ur own shit wtf am i gonna do w my money mi vida?"
it was one time btw and u secretly bought a shirt w ur savings
hes not jealous when other boys talk to u
cuz he be eyeing them from far and letting them know that he was yours
but like if they go too far like touching you in the wrong places and flirt w you
this man is ready to beat the FUCK outta someone
like one time
you were walking back home alone
some man just pinned you on the wall
"aint you a pretty thing?" the creepy man started to breathe down ur neck
u start to panic and like be on the verge of tears
but then u hear like a "whoosh" and the man is on the ground
like knocked out
it was the prowler, or your miles
"are you okay cariño?" his mask unfolds and he checks your body for any wounds
he vowed never to let you walk home alone after that day
he loves to give you cute nicknames
such as
"cariño" "corazón" "mi vida" "mi amor" gets you weak in the KNEES
his mom loves you so much
she would always drag you out of miles's touch and would talk to you for HOURS
you loved it and couldn't complain tbh
he is such a bruno mars fanatic (argue w the wall if u think im wrong)
like when u visit him, you open his door and always somehow Finesse by Bruno Mars or Versace on the floor is playing
(he dedicates those songs 2 u)
ever since his dad died
he never opened up and was closed in his own ball
but until he met you
sometimes he'd open your window in the middle of the night
and he would hug you tightly and you didn't say anything because
you know he's grieving and the only thing he needs right now
is your presence
© hearts4hobie.
do not steal, translate, and rewrite without permission.
(part 2?)
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babeydollx · 6 months
Text
Intimate Friends | JJ Maybank
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❥ Warnings: cursing, hinting at smut, mentions of abuse, mentions of violence, mentions of drinking, mentions of an abusive parent, fluff, friends to lovers, slight teasing??, small hints of sex
❥ Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Pogue Reader
❥ Summary: In which JJ and Y/N had been best friends since the sandbox days and they had both liked eachother but, neither of them knew about eachothers feelings, until their feelings for eachother come out in a unexpected way.
❥ Author's Note: I am really sorry that I habe not been posting lately. I have been dealing with a lot of personal issues and just haven't had the time to write.
© Maybanks-Luver 2023, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.
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You and JJ had just gotten back to your small apartment. The two of you had been out all day with John B, Sarah, Pope, Kiara and Cleo. You had all gone surfing and driving around in The Twinkie all day, just having fun with your friends, no your family. Since JJ had a lot of issues with his father, Luke, you offered to let him stay at your place for the night since John B was not going to be at The Chateau tonight.
"Again, thank you for letting me stay, Y/N." JJ said as he sat down on your couch. "Of course, Jayj." You said with a warm smile as you put your bag down on the counter. "I know my apartment is really small and all but, you are welcome to stay anytime." You said to him as you sat down beside him on the sofa. "No, no, staying here is perfect. It is better than being with my dead beat, drunken father." He said with a sigh.
You frowned. You always felt terrible about JJ's living situation and about his relationship with his dad. He did not deserve to be treated that way at all. He was one of the most caring people you knew, and when you'd see him with cuts, bruises, blood, and scars your heart shattered into a million pieces everytime. You just wanted to get JJ out of there as soon as possible. You had always offered to let him live with you but he always rejected the idea because he felt bad for putting more onto your plate even though he wasn't.
"So, are you hungry? I can order us a pizza." You said with a smile. "Yeah, pizza sounds good, thanks Cupcake." He said with a grin. You smile and quickly walk up and go over to the counter to get your phone out ofnyour handbag before he can see your redened face.
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"I cannot believe we ate all of that pizza." You said with a laugh. "I can." JJ said. "I was starving." He chuckled. "So, do you want to watch a movie or something on Netflix?" You asked. He just nodded so you grabbed the remote. The two of you picked a movie to watch and sat together and began to watch it.
As the two of you were watching the film, you began to get cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself to try to keep warm. JJ noticed your attempts to keep yourself warm and decided to speak. "Come here." He said. "Huh?" You said as you looked over at the blonde boy. "Come here." He said again but this time he patted his lap. You looked at him in confusion. "Why do you want me to get in your lap?" You asked.
"Well you're cold, aren't you?" He asked. "I- well yeah." You said. "Well rhen come here, Cupcake." He laughed. You had sat in JJ's lap before but never when the two of you were alone. You did not really know what to expect. You sighed softly before crawling over to JJ and situating yourself into his lap. You sat down at first but then you felt uncomfortable so you shifted in his lap a little to get yourself comfortable.
JJ stiffened a little and he had bit his lip softly. As you began to feel comfortable again, you froze. You felt something poking at you through his shorts. "Can you empty your pockets?" You asked even though you knew what was poking at you, you were just in denial. "Uhm.. I don't have anything in my pockets." JJ said with a cough. "Y- you don't?" You asked. "Nope.." he mumbled awkwardly. You sat there for a minute, now processing the situation.
"I turned you on?" You asked, a little shocked. "Mhm." He hummed softly. "I- but we are friends- best friends. So you have some kind of like sexual attraction for me?" You asked. "It is more than just a sexual attraction." He sighed. "It is?" You asked. He sighed and took a second before speaking. "Look Y/N, I like you. Like really like you. I have for years now." He said. "Since we were little. No matter what girls I was hooking up with or dating, I always wanted you." He stopped and looked away.
"Wow.." You said softly. "I cannot believe this." You said. "I- I know that this may make things awkward-" "I like you too!" You blurted out, cutting his sentence off. He looked at you like he was not expecting you to feel the same way. "Like I really, really like you, Jayj." You said with a soft chuckle. He grinned when he herd you say that before pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss started off soft and sweet but then turned rough and passionate.
"How about I show you how much I like you." He said with a devilish smirk. "I would love that." You said with a grin before the two of you kissed again.
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❥ Author's Note: tysm for reading, angels!
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vagabond-umlaut · 9 months
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two shots of ristretto, please!
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One must have heard of espresso, but ristretto? No?
Well, translated to 'restricted' in Italian, ristretto is another version of espresso, but of a sweeter and more intense quality than the latter— though, you reckon, there's no entity in this world, sweeter and more intense than that white-haired, blue-eyed enigma-turned-menace of yours.
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▸ yakuza heir! gojo satoru x uni classmate! fem! reader; TIMESKIP; dad! gojo satoru x mom! reader; FLUFF AND HUMOR GALORE; popularising the headcanon that gojo is so terrifyingly gojo for everyone, except his crush; the said crush's smart & not dense, for the first time in my stories; there is yakuza so there's a gun and there's a tiny bit of violence; brief appearance of utahime, shoko, suguru & nanami; POST-TIMESKIP: the most adorable twins ever, sachiko and sachiro, are back, with tons and tons of fluff!!!!!
▸ belongs to the series 'tang!' — same universe as the work 'every rose and its 'twin prickles'' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!
▸ i know i described the reader to be smart and stuff, but the thing is: she is smart, of sorts, that is. and the post-timeskip portion is tooth-rottingly fluffy but not for satoru; sachiko & sachiro will never let their papa get some loving from their dearest mama... AND this is 4.4k wc long— idk how i wrote so freaking much! anyways, whatever it is–
▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
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Gojo Satoru was born with three things.  
His name. 
His looks.  
And, of course– the baggage certain to tag along with the above two. 
Cup of coffee languishing in the frost of your ignorance, you lock gaze, the first time, with the famous infamous scion of the Gojo’s, an awfully stormy morning at the café your friend works at.  
Said friend looks halfway on the path to sweet, sweet dreams, resting her head on folded arms on your table — smiling, you tuck a wayward strand of hair behind the shell of her ear, and return to your sly spying on the group seated couple of feet away. You think you see Gojo look at you yet another time — it must be an error of your eye, you reckon, given how he's giving a sharp grin to the man across from him, in the very next instant.  
Yeah, that's what it is. No one can possibly switch from shooting that level of thoughtful gaze to that level of feral grin in that short span of time. Yeah, it must have been a mistake of your silly eye.  
Anyways, whatever it is, to say you hate drawing attention to yourself will be the greatest understatement of the century— so you decide to look away for a beat, to avoid even the faintest hint of suspicion, eyes going back to the chemical reactions strewn across the mess you call notes— only to snap back to the white-haired boy, widening in horror from the click! then the scene crashing onto your brain.  
Gojo chuckles, eyes flitting from the gun aimed at the space between his eyebrows to the man holding it. "Aww," you register him croon, that self-sabotaging dumbass, "resorting to such cheap violence so quickly, Zenin-san? Grew tired of a civil conversation already? Tsk. What a pity." 
Another time and you think you'll consider this precise moment to be when you wake your friend up and slowly sneak away into the kitchen then out, via the back door. Another day and you know you'll consider this very second to be when you return your focus to your assignment on carbohydrates, all the while hoping you or your friend won't be cast into a brawl none of you are a part of— 
Too bad it isn't another time or another day, though.  
Biting back a grimace, you shut your laptop and rise from your chair with a loud clatter. 
"Forcing someone isn't really a nice way to make a deal, y'know," you hum, walking over to their table and plopping down onto the free seat next to Gojo, "what is better is to explain the pros and cons to the one opposite to you and try to convince them. Gently. And if that doesn't work, manipulate the hell out of them. But this?" you shoot the metal gun a disappointed glance, shaking your head, "this is a method even I know I shouldn't use to get my rival to agree to something, though I'm not from a criminal background." 
The man– Zenin, you correct yourself; the second largest yakuza clan right after Gojo's family, your memory supplies after a beat – gives a slow look from the weapon to you, a scowl appearing on his features. And barks – voice, a disgusting grating noise to your sleep-deprived self.  
"Who the fuck are you, girl? And why the fuck are you interfering in this?"  
You pause. Okay, this wasn't what you were expecting when you first strolled out here. You were expecting a yell, a scuffle; worst case, the gun aimed at your precious brain. But this? One question about your identity, and the other about your reason for approaching them? You haven't prepared yourself for this! 
Frowning, you cast a glance to your left, only to find the white-haired boy stare at you, staggered, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks; then at your friend who's snoring away like she doesn't give a damn about napping at work; then at the man glowering at you.  
You sigh, rubbing your temples. 
"Who the fuck I am... that's for me to know and for you to find out,” you answer, smirking, before growing serious again as you rush to explain, upon catching a murderous glint in the man’s eyes, “I mean, c'mon, y'all are the yakuza. This should be a piece of cake for you, shouldn’t it?"  
The man's glare only worsens in result; stamping down the apprehension in your mind, you continue, "And as for why the fuck I'm interfering in this—"  
You abruptly fall silent.  
Offering the boy beside you a panicky glance.  
Wondering what the hell you can say in reply. 
Should you say, "I've been listening to you threaten the poor boy for a good thirty minutes now, saying he's gonna face dire consequences, or some shit like that, if he doesn't share the area in the east with the Zenin's or refuses to marry their third daughter— who I'm pretty sure, y'all have made into nothing but a maid, a cook and a broodmare. Poor girl, being spoken of by her own family member to a stranger boy, as if she isn't a human being but something with no life or ambition. But, hey, how you raise your kids is honestly your own problem and I’m not here to drill some lesson into your head– though I guess, folks like you could really use some. Anyways, whatever the fuck it is, I'm here because I JUST CAN'T SEE ANOTHER BEING FORCED TO DO SOMETHING AGAINST THEIR WILL. AND I’M GONNA PROTEST AGAINST IT AS LONG AS I’VE A BREATH LEFT IN MY LUNGS." 
The inner-you tsks at the outer-you.  
You groan inwardly, shifting to the next plan already.  
So, must you say, "Gojo's my classmate, who has been sitting behind me since the first class of the year, and very weird to say, but I have also been finding him here at this coffee shop, every day I visit since that day, sitting at this specific table and scribbling in a notebook for hours at end— and, yeah, way weirder to admit out loud, but I guess I have also formed some kind of attachment to him? 'Cause of which, I feel, I get worried when I see him being actively threatened? And, yes, of course– all the while I totally ignore that he's next in line to a notorious criminal family or the fact that he's never even noticed me once before today." 
Another click! bounces off the walls into your ears, making you draw away from your mind back to the situation at hand. You settle for offering a shrug.  
"Why I'm here is because Gojo is one of my acquaintances and I just can't seem to stand someone being forced to do something against their will." 
Your statement earns a mocking laugh from the man, but before you rush to defend yourself and the fact you spoke the truth, a calloused palm rests on your forearm. Gojo's gaze flits from you to the gun still pointed at him then back to you. You feel a mild tremor in his fingers when they meet your skin. Good heavens, Gojo must be really scared, huh? 
His careful voice reaches you, a far cry from the haughty tone he was employing with the Zenin fellow earlier, "It's best if you leave now. Go take your friend and go away. And don't come back here. At least not until sometime later, yeah? Things are gonna get a hell lot messy and I don't want you to see that." 
For the first time in many days, the buzz of caffeine in your veins weakens, giving way to the thrum of worry you feel at Gojo’s words. Has this bastard already accepted his fate!? Hell no! Not if you can help it!!  
You give his arm a light pat. 
"While I leave you here, all alone, huh?" Shaking your head, you click your tongue. "Nope! Not gonna happen, mister. My parents raised me way better than that. Besides, you might not be knowing me but I've been knowing you for a while now, and despite what everyone says of you being the crown prince, or whatever, in the underworld — I ain't leaving you here, with your life at the mercy of a person who doesn't even have a shred of respect for others' freedom of choice and stuff." 
A noisy yawn sounds in the background, soon followed by a noisier series of snores. Gojo's mouth opens and closes a few times, like a funny fish, before he inquires, voice brimming with disbelief, "You... have noticed me? Since when?" 
You blink, then chuckle. "Of course, I have. Since the first day, if I'm being honest here," you reply, then add as a hasty after-thought, so that he doesn't see you as a weirdo, "I mean, it's tough not to notice you, y'know? Not when you're—" 
A deafening crash interrupts you in the middle of your sentence. You look away from the boy to find the man standing now, face contorted in a mix of fury and desperation while he shifts the gun's muzzle from Gojo to you, then back to Gojo, words leaving him in a harsh yell. 
"THE GIRL NOTICED YOU 'CAUSE YOU'RE THE GOJO SATORU AND YOU'RE HANDSOME AS FUCK. NOW, CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH? AND YOU — YOU SICK, SPOILT GOJO BRAT– YOU SAID YOU DON'T HAVE A MINUTE TO SPARE? BUT HERE YOU ARE, CHATTING YOUR LIFE AWAY WITH THAT GIRL—" 
A second deafening crash reverberates through the small shop– and you think you see your life flash before your eyes– but not before the man drops to the ground, most probably unconscious and hopefully not too damaged to lead a functional life, and very earnestly not dead. The gun clatters to the ground beside him. You turn to your classmate, eyes wide. Gojo returns your gaze, unblinking and slack jawed. 
Heart thundering in your ears, you hurry to explain yourself, "I–" 
"You smashed that plate on that guy's head." 
Gojo’s blunt words bring you to a still, making your eyes drift to the fragments of the unlucky glass plate, to the unluckier but-totally-deserved-it Zenin, then back to your classmate. A little more awe on the boy’s face and you think his jaw might hit the floor.  
You nod slowly. 
"Yeah, but as self-defence. I mean, you saw how eccentric that man was acting, right? I had to do something to protect both of us," you explain, looking away from the pair of blue eyes watching you closely, to your friend who still seems to be lost in the land of sleep (how much exactly did she drink last night, huh?) to your grey sneakers, voice growing mumbled with every other syllable you utter.  
"But that doesn't mean you've to feel some sort of debt towards me or anything. I too was kind of at mistake then, I guess... what with me rambling so fucking much when there was a literal gun at your head. I should have acted with more tact then – if I had done so, then maybe this mess could've been avoided. I mean, I've never seen these things before in my life, y'know? Except in TV shows, that is. Yet, this foolish me here thought she could just swoop in and save you like some sort of a hero..." 
Sullen, you trail off, face growing warm from embarrassment whilst your mind devises a plan on how to clear up the mess you created, many thanks to your foolhardy nature, when a muffled laugh reaches you. Gojo's eyes twinkle in enjoyment at the bewildered huff you give him.  
"You did save me like a real hero back then, y'know," he says, grinning a wide grin – before it disappears, making way for a much reserved, much shyer(??) version. A giggly voice within you whispers he looks just as sweet as he did with his cute dimples. The boy continues, carding a hand through his mess of white hair, with a casual glance at the man, "And, as for the mess you keep mentioning, don't you worry. Gun shots create more mess than a plate smashed on the head. And if I can clear that within a minute– this won't even take me a full second, Miss Hero. Don't you worry for this at all. But, yeah, thank you." 
Now, you don't really know if it was the sincerity in his voice as Gojo thanked you, or the fact that he has to clean up the mess you made in the first place, or the stunned feeling so clearly visible in the blue colour of his irises when you admitted to noticing him— whatever it is, you find yourself not wanting to leave anything unsaid between you both.  
Moreover, the realization that lives are considered extremely low-on-value in the world of crime, so much that guns are whipped out at the tiny disagreements or boasts are made on how quick a gunshot mess can be cleared by them — this realization doesn't make things any easier for you. 
Giving the injured man and your napping friend a momentary glance, you return your focus to Gojo, whose eyes are now narrowed at his mobile, and speak those words weighing heavy on your mind right now.  
"I really noticed you since the first day, Gojo," you say. The boy pauses his typing, confused gaze darting to you. "But not just 'cause you're the Gojo Satoru, or 'cause you're really pretty — which you totally are, by the way— but mainly because you had ambled into our first class, on the first day, a magnificent hour late, with your two friends— and my first thought seeing you was, what sort of a fucking entitled brat is this guy, sauntering in as if he owns the entire place." 
A beat passes before the boy erupts into chuckles, though the tense quality of them doesn't escape your notice. Pocketing his mobile, he shoots you a small smile. "And what about noticing me after that? It was just my name and looks which kept your attention hooked onto me, wasn't it?" 
The question– the mumbled way it was asked, more so– sends you into a brief bout of musing silence. Gojo's eyes remain trained on you the entire while — quite contrary to the innumerable adjectives you've heard to describe them: oceanic blue, sparkling blue, mesmerising blue, kind-of-startling blue– you think they're just... blue. So blue, you wonder if there's anything as blue as that gaze peering down at you.  
Perhaps not. 
Lips curving into a smile, you hum, "Yes and no. Yes, 'cause that was the main reason why my eyes kept trailing you whenever we were in the same place. No, 'cause they were the reasons only until I realised what kind of person you are, and how very different you're from what I first thought of you. I got new reasons after those." 
"Mind telling me those new reasons?" 
Gojo's nervous question widens the smile on your face. Casting your friend a glance — goodness, how many drinks did she really have at the party she went to last night — you reply, making your voice light and friendly, "Your personality made me curious. You are old money, with good looks to boot— you're literally the heartthrob of every girl on campus! Still, I've never seen you with anyone from them— never with anyone outside your group of three friends — though, I got to admit, the blond boy looks nothing less than constipated for a week, when he talks to you." 
That last comment draws a chuckle from the white-haired boy. The tightness in his shoulders seems to relax a bit, you note with relief. Face still carrying the same smile as before, you continue speaking.  
"And the second point which made me curious was how different you behave in different places. Your voice rings across the cafeteria every day during lunch yet you stay so quiet here for hours at end. You once said you've never been much of a book person, yet I always see you in this shop, immersed in your notebooks. And– what has struck me the most of all is the way you tend to go out of you way to annoy others – I've been sitting in front of you in class for a good three months now, yet you've never ever irritated me in the slightest. Kind of strange, ain’t it?" 
Stunned silence comes as the answer to your question, what with the addressed classmate of yours, rooted to his spot on the ground, blue eyes as round as the plate you had smashed on the man's head some time ago and the expression on Gojo's face, almost as if you've grown a couple of heads in the while you have been chatting with him.  
Or more like monologuing, now that you think about it.  
This guy is always so chatty with others: he was even then with that gun cocked to take his life — then why the fuck is he so unspeaking right now, eh? 
"Oh God, Satoru, I can't believe your plan of lurking in the places she goes to, to catch her eye, worked out!!" "Are you asking her out right now, bro?" "Can you all please move? It's raining like hell outside and I'm not really keen to get my leather jacket wet, thank you." 
The noisy rumbles of rain and thunder stream in through the opened door, before the latter is closed again, snapping you out of your internal monologue, a bit too sudden and harsh for your liking. Three pairs of eyes regard you with an utmost curiosity — you return them a blink before dragging your eyes away and looking at the boy a good foot away, only to find him resolutely staring at the overhead lights. Two pretty long (and pretty weird) seconds pass before you finally decide to tear your gaze away from him to the rain-soaked glass window of the eatery.  
A face with creased brows and warmed cheeks greets you from your reflection.  
Screwing your eyes tight shut in an attempt to ward off an annoying headache you can feel build up, slowly yet steadily, you let out a sigh.  
Friendship with the Gojo Satoru seems good enough but romance with the Gojo Satoru... that doesn’t seem half-as-good, right? 
Right? 
"Wrong." 
Your son's insistent voice, coupled by the tiny fist he slams down on the table, breaks you out of your reverie and you turn to find Sachiro wearing a frown, tears brimming in his eyes– eyes which move away from his father and sister to you, pinning your drowsy form beneath the weight of their moisture.  
Stifling a weary sigh, you place the menu card back on the table and coo, "Aw, Sachiro! What's wrong, baby? Are Papa and Sachiko saying mean things to you again? Are they still teasing you regarding today's incident?" 
Although, you suppose to yourself, catastrophe might suit what happened today, way more than the word 'incident'— what with the shrieks, cries and yells resounding through your flat in the short time you took to get ready for your Sunday lunch at a restaurant. Rubbing his eyes a little, the little boy scoots closer to you and nods weakly, wrapping his tiny arms round you. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you direct a stern look at the two sitting across from you.  
Sipping on the welcome drink, Sachiko just shrugs back at you.  
"I'm not the wrong person here, Mom. He is," your daughter explains, pointing a finger at her brother, then retracting it at your frown. Your husband snickers from beside her. “Yeah, sweetness, it’s Sachiro who’s wrong. Getting confused on when’s your birthday is no small mistake. Besides, our darling little munchkins taunt me the entire time if I ever make a mistake, no? Can’t see why they can’t stand a taste of their own medicine, then.” 
The sobs muffled into the cotton of your dress grow in intensity and misery. Sending her father a vicious stink eye, your daughter moves to observe you and her brother, a cute little frown on her face.  
"Okay, fine," she relents after a short beat, returning the lemonade to the table, "Guess I was a little wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have teased him so much, along with Papa, for messing up the date of your birthday. I also should not have said, he doesn't love you, some time back."  
A very weighted moment passes. The little girl jumps off her seat and reaches your side of the table, tiny arms reaching out to wrap around her brother. It takes a minute, and a small nudge from your side but soon enough, your two kids are hugging each other; Sachiro, a wailing mess, whilst Sachiko, being the older of the twins that she is, keeps saying 'sorry's' and patting his head, the exact same way their father does to them in times of their grave distress — when they throw a tantrum and get a nice long lecture from you, that is.  
Fond smile creeping onto your lips, you tear your gaze away from the two adorable angels of your life to your husband.  
Relieved to find him sans any teasing smile, you receive a gentle look from him, his hand reaching out to interweave his fingers through yours. You let him with a content hum, basking in the simple domestic joy seeping in through the sweetly scented air of the restaurant. A pair of plush lips press to your palm; biting back a giddy giggle, you throw the owner of said luscious lips a meaningful wink.  
Though... you doubt how much of your meaning could be conveyed to him... given how the two of you jerk back from each other a mere instant later, at the loud clearing of a throat from Sachiko and an angry 'Papa! Go away!' from Sachiro.  
Stomping back to her chair and settling into it with some effort and a huff, you watch an extremely pissed shadow form over the little girl's face, worsening as she twists and cranes her neck up to face her father. You really, really think your husband must not chuckle in this way in the face of such a thunderstorm— not when your daughter is shooting daggers with her gaze; and certainly not when your son is shooting that gloating smirk at him.  
Another time and you think you’ll look at that glare and at that smirk, then proceed to be on cloud-nine, realizing your children, despite being xerox copies of their father (both in looks and manners), did inherit certain features from you as well— something which a terribly competitive voice inside your head claims, is a great win— now, however, is decidedly no such time.  
Not when the person you’ve loved for these many years and know, will continue to do so for an eternity, looks one step away from being tormented to death– by none but the two milk-toothed lights of both of your lives.  
You watch Sachiko’s frown deepen, more than should be possible for someone her age, then begin. 
"Papa, I'm sorry but I have to break our deal. Sachiro is right. We two are the strongest duo of twins in the multiverse — we can't let you break our team this way. So, what if my brother makes a mistake? He's a young baby and babies are allowed to make mistakes, aren't they?"  
You wonder if she truly understands she was born a mere six minutes prior than her brother... and not six whole years, as appears to be the case right now. Holding back chuckles, you spare the person, addressed in the ‘not-really-apology' apology, an amused glance, then nod your head solemnly at her words.  
"They are, baby. They so are," you agree in the very next instant, then ask, a genuine inquiring inflection to your tone, "But what deal did Papa make you agree to, baby? Sounds pretty serious to me, to be honest." 
"Oh, it wasn't anything, sweet cheeks," your husband begins with an awfully nervous-sounding chortle; too bad, your daughter is quick to beat him to it. Throwing him a smirk, you can only describe to be devious, she looks back at you and grins. "Two weeks back, Papa found me in the living room, late at night, staring at shooting stars through the windows. And I found him walking away from the kitchen, eating a giant chocolate bar. Papa said you’ll be very mad because we didn’t listen to what you said, so, we should make a deal and become a team to keep this a secret from you." 
"Papa made that deal– only to divide us. So, our strong team can be destroyed and he can easily defeat us and keep you all for himself, Mama," your son chips in, puffy eyes narrowed into a very hard glare. Your daughter agrees vehemently from the opposite side.  
Your eyes drop to the glass of lemonade before you; you try your best to stifle the yawn.  
This fight over your affection has been going on since the time your children turned four or so... and despite them nearing an age of six in few months, no end can be seen in the horizon, to this war raging within your home...  
And as for the matter of Sachiko being awake way past her bedtime? You reckon you can't really do much on this, other than repeating the rules and the reasons behind each one of them– especially of punctuality and an adequate sleep– to her, like you did the last time... though, you think of toning your lecture down a little this time, considering it wasn't a video game but a meteor show she had stayed awake for... besides you too used to be — okay, no, wait, what??? 
Your husband's sheepish grin collides with the incensed glare you aim his way over the table. Letting out a frustrated huff of an exhale, your face turns away from his, choosing to stare at itself in the clean glass windows instead — too, too mad to acknowledge that white-haired, blue-eyed menace of yours, whining apologies with a pitiful gaze.  
You screw your eyes shut and let out a sigh. 
Being married to the yakuza king, Gojo Satoru, is a story, you deem, it couldn’t have been better, but being married to the sweet fiend, Gojo Satoru?  
Oh, sweet– no, strike that, you fucking hate that word—  
Oh, sour heavens above.  
That's a different story altogether. 
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▸ if you've reached this point and still love me and/or my writing, istg I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH. writing something inspired by one's self-ship is so satisfying but so difficult, ngl. A BIG TYYY TO YOU WHO IS READING THIS LINE RN AFTER READING THIS MONSTROSITY OF A ONESHOT *sniffles*
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foxgloveprincess · 2 months
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Pairing: DBF Ari Levinson x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]
Word Count: 4,037
Summary: Outside your doors, things threaten the peace in your attic. Ari might need your help, but can he trust you?
Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist
Warnings: Dark/Soft Dark, Dubious Consent, previous Kidnapping, Attic Wife Trope, Unreliable Narrator, Anxiety, Kissing, Smut (Groping, Dry Humping/Grinding, Finger Sucking, Thigh Riding, Vaginal Penetration, Unprotected Sex, mild Anal Play), Slapping (just one), Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Modern AU, Age Gap (Ari is in his 40s, Reader is in her mid-20s), Dad’s Best Friend, mentions of Strained Father/Daughter Relationship, Minor Character Death, Yandere Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Crying, Pet Names (li’l dip, baby, li’l bear, etc). Minors do not interact (18+).
A/N: Ari is my very favorite in this AU. He’s just so frickin’ soft and tender for his li’l dip. What I wouldn’t give to be locked in his attic. 🥰 I hope you enjoy!
I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog/comment if you want. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work, at all. I cross-post to my own AO3 account. 
I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.
This is not Beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.
Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!
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He stops locking the door. The first time you notice, you don’t quite pinpoint the reason why you’re unsettled. An absence simply needles at the back of your mind until Ari visits you again. 
But it keeps happening. The door knob turning under your hand each time Ari leaves. Temptation itches at you. To follow your captor out of your room. To wait for the right moment to sneak out the door. To escape. 
Yet you don’t. The mere thought of it sparks a panic that skitters up your spine and freezes you in place. What if it’s all a trap? What if he’s toying with you? What would he do if you were caught trying to run? 
It’s like he knows. The spirals of your mind keeping you more trapped in your room than any physical lock. 
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“Where’s my li’l dip?” he asks, with a giant smile cracking his lips. 
You glance over your shoulder at his entrance. The door to the attic left open—wide open—right behind him. You stare at it a beat too long. Temptation a sharp prick that fades quickly. You turn back, bury yourself in your blankets, and tuck those thoughts away. 
Ari’s big, burly arms wrap around your waist and pull you from your cocoon. The solid wall of his chest presses to your back. He nuzzles against your neck and presses a kiss to your pulse point. You wriggle and he chuckles deep in his throat. 
“Oh, baby bear,” he coos. His hot breath brushes against your skin. “Don’t be like that. You know Daddy just wants some loving.” One hand releases you so he can trace his fingers across your cheek. “After all he’s done for you this week.” 
Images of his head between your thighs as you woke the past few days, the soreness that lingers at your core, the way your breath hitches at just the thought. Your eyes flutter shut and you try to hide from the embarrassment of it all. 
“No,” he says, letting his fingers wrap around your neck and tip your head back. He plants a kiss on your cheek and your jaw. “Want you right here with me.” His arm tightens around you and presses you infinitesimally closer. “We gotta talk, baby.” 
Your thoughts pause. His statement so incongruous to his actions. His wanting hands and intimate proximity do not signify a desire to simply talk. 
“About what?” you ask, trepidation turning your stomach. A thousand possibilities fly through your head. 
Ari sighs and tugs gently at your shoulder. He waits for you to turn over, face to face, before beginning. 
“I know we’ve been so happy together. That this has been the best thing we’ve ever had happen to us.” He smiles and the wave of affection and sincerity buffets you—somehow still unused to it. 
At his patient and silent prompting, you nod while keeping eye contact. Knowing it’s a placation—and wondering whether you can say it’s just that. 
“It hasn’t been easy,” Ari says, tipping his forehead to rest against yours. “There have been obstacles for us.”
“Obstacles?”
A muscle in Ari’s jaw ticks. His nostrils flare on a deep breath. He collects himself a minute before saying, “your father took our decision rather harder than expected.” 
A confused, “what?” croaks out of your throat before you can stop it. 
“You know how he is,” Ari says, slotting a thick thigh between yours. “Everyone has to play the part, the perfect family.” Fingers grab at the back of your pajama shorts, sinking into your plush flesh. “You never quite fit his standards, did you?” 
You blink at the tears that form on your waterline. But they drip down your cheeks anyway. Sniffing does nothing to stop them. 
“Hey, li’l love,” Ari coos in the softest voice, wiping at the stream of tears. “You know you’ve always been perfect for me.” Kisses land on your cheeks. The tickle of Ari’s beard so familiar now. The comfort he offers more tempting than an open door would ever be. 
He pauses a moment to wrap a blanket tighter around your shoulders and over your legs, his body a furnace. You bask in the warmth and sleep tugs at your eyelids. 
Ari leans back and tilts your chin up. “Stay with me, baby. There’s more,” he admits with a regret-filled click of his teeth. 
You blink away the sleep. Your eye catches the patches of grey at his temples and in his beard. Using them to pull yourself back into focus. You take a deep breath and swallow a yawn. 
“He went to the cops once he got back from vacation.” Ari sighs again, his brows tilted with sympathy. “They’ve been trying to poke their nose into things. I have a lawyer friend who’s been helping me out, but I still think they suspect I did something untoward with you.” 
A faint, “oh,” breezes past your lips. You’re not sure what to think. Obviously, there are some skews in Ari’s perspective. Probably some in yours, too. 
“I can admit I’m nervous,” Ari confesses with a duck of his chin. “What if they want to take you away from me?” He shifts on the bed, his thigh grinding against your sex through your pajamas. Your belly flutters with the friction. “The thought of you all alone. It drives me crazy. I can’t let that happen to you, not to my sweet baby.”
“If my dad wants to find me—” 
Ari cuts you off with a kiss, hands cradling your cheeks. You gasp again his lips and clutch at the front of his shirt. You melt into it, the softness and gentleness. Intoxicating. When he pulls away, his forehead finds yours again. 
“He suffered a heart attack about a week ago. He didn’t make it,” your captor whispers, sympathy lacing his voice like poison. “Candace moved to Majorca. There’s no one left for you, but they still want to take you away.” 
Speech eludes you. Your dad died.  Why can’t you figure out how to feel about it? So ambivalent to him being gone. Grief the furthest thing from your mind. Because it’s not like you can deny it. No other family above ground. An old job as a pawn for a giant corporation leaving you faceless in a crowd. You really would be alone. 
“You need me, don’t you, baby bear?”
You think a moment, gazing into Ari’s blue eyes. He waits for you, neither prodding nor rushing. Peering into your very soul, searching for honesty. 
When you part your lips to speak, you’re unsure what will come out. A dull part of you wants to claw out of his embrace and scream at him. Storm out the door and disappear into the surrounding forest until you find the nearest road. The other wants to agree and burrow into the safety of his chest. Find comfort in his steady heartbeat, sink and never resurface. 
“Yes, Daddy.” 
Ari’s eyes sparkle. He’s so gorgeous when he looks at you like you hang the moon and stars, you can’t help but swoon. Perhaps it’s true. You hadn’t been joking with Arielle those few months ago—you really did need this, want this, crave this. So easy your acceptance has been. 
Your throat dries, swallowing down the realization like shards of glass. Tears prick at your eyes once more. To hide from them, you tuck your head into the crook of Ari’s neck. 
He wraps you in his arms and strokes your back along your spine. His lips croon sweet nothings in your ear, whispers of admiration that just make you feel worse. Your head shakes, smushed as it is against him. 
“Does my sweet girl not feel praiseworthy?” 
Your head continues to shake and he hums. 
“Guess I’ll have to show you,” he says as if it doesn’t make him pleased as punch to have the opportunity. 
It starts with a slow grind and a heavy sigh. He rocks your hips, pinning you against his thighs with much more intention and intensity. A spark skitters up your spine, a whimper accompanying it up your throat. 
Your mind quiets to this moment. The way your captor is about to make you feel. Your eyes meet. Hunger exchanged between your gazes. His strong and bold, yours just as ravenous but tinged by hesitation. 
“Let Daddy take care of you,” he whispers with a quirk of his brow. He waits only for you to blink before devouring any other response in a passionate kiss. 
His tongue licks its way into your mouth, tangling with yours. Searching for the delicious sounds you produce with every sultry slide of your cunt. Still slow, controlled, but with that anticipatory promise of wild need. 
Your nails sink into his chest, catching on his chest hair and scratching along his pecs. He grunts and jerks his hips forward, his cock a hard press against you. Ready to bury into you like a sword finding its sheathe. Yet his restraint keeps every motion steady. 
The smell of his sweat fills your nose, mingling with his cologne. You inhale deeply. Addicted to the scent. Wishing to drown yourself in it. Ignore to whom it belongs. To imagine a world where the man feeling your slick soaking through your thin layers didn’t drug and kidnap you. That he didn’t catfish you and pose as a friend. A world where you met and fell in love like normal people. Even a world where he offered to lock you away and you agreed. 
Ari hisses as your teeth catch his tongue. But he doesn’t linger, trailing his kisses down your cheek to your throat. 
“What’s wrong, li’l dip?”
“Nothing,” you warble, hoping he thinks your pleasure affects your voice, not a deep cavern of dismay. 
He looks up and meets your watery eyes. You try to look away, but he enthralls you with the piercing certainty of his gaze and you can’t. For a long moment, he just stares, reading every thought running through your head.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers, after a moment. “I understand.” His hands cup your cheeks and he presses a kiss to your forehead, his hips beginning to rock harder against your own. 
Your lips part. Ari’s thumb traces your skin and sinks between your parted flesh. Your tongue licks at the pad of his finger and you begin to suck. Soothing yourself with his digit. His other hand moves between you, groping your breast and kneading them one at a time. 
“I love you,” he says, your name a reverent punctuation to his declaration. “I love you more than anything.” 
You blink, but can’t respond with his thumb in your mouth. And he doesn’t move it away, not requiring one. Part of you wonders if he realizes that this isn’t real—not love. The other wonders if it is, if you could accept it. The answer blindsides you, plowing to the forefront of your mind and leaving you stunned.
His hips buck, a vigorous motion jostling you in the blankets. A moan spills from his lips and the last thread of his control frays, reveals a taste of the full extent of his appetite.
He strips his shirt from his body, a quick motion to replace his thumb between your lips as quickly as possible. With the one hand left, he pushes his shorts and boxer briefs from his legs. 
Hot and hard, his cock slots against your sex. He slides it between your legs and grunts. Friction eased by the arousal coating your thighs and dripping from the head of his cock. His free hand shoves your clothes out of the way. Seeking a clear path to your dripping entrance. Fabric bunching around your knees. 
The head of his cock taps at your clit. Your hips jerk and he finds your entrance, just that press and prod enough to send you reeling. Your fingers grab at him, needy. Your brain foggy with lust, you glance down to see him plunging into you. Slow and sure. 
“Fuck,” you whimper around his thumb. 
He seats himself fully inside you. A breath  rushes across your lips. Ari rolls his hips. You buck to meet him, skin sticking to the blankets beneath you, already worked up with so little provocation. 
“You fit me so perfectly,” Ari praises. 
You nod, bobbing your head without pause. Agreeing still as he starts to pull out and thrust back in. His spit slick thumb retreats from your mouth, trailing down your torso and between you to play with the throbbing bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. A satisfied hum vibrates out of your throat, though your lips seal shut to keep it at bay. Ari projects his sounds of pleasure, filling the room as he ruts against you on your bed. 
It’s a lazy dance that chases the high between you. Ari’s thrusts controlled, precise. Your own answering movements are less so, too focused on the feelings drowning out your thoughts. You need them. 
Ari keeps your eyes locked. Sometimes you think he can’t cum without that contact. Even when he’s taken you from behind. He needs to see your eyes. Needs to see them gloss over with lust and longing when you’re not sure where you end and he begins. 
He looks for it now. That haze that rolls over you. Consuming pleasure. Your leg trembles, hitching up to try to hook over him. Your shorts and underwear prevent it, stretched too taut. You whine and release Ari from your grip to push the offending material down to your ankles and kick them off the rest of the way. He pauses, reveling in the moment to lavish your tits through your shirt. He hikes it up and bends his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. 
“So sweet for me,” he says, switching to the other. 
Your back arches toward him. The sensation a plucking tease without fulfillment. You huff in frustration and roll your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. A hand falls to Ari’s ass, helping support the movement and push him deeper into you. 
“Please,” you beg, unhappy with his pause to focus only on your breasts, wanting more despite how good it feels. 
“Please what?” he asks, arching a brow and pulling away from your chest. “What does my sweet baby want?”
You whine high in your throat. “Want you to fuck me.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Knowing how it peeves him. 
“You know that’s not what I want to hear,” he says with a slap to your left breast. It jiggles and stings from the impact. 
You hiss and pout, looking to Ari and seeing the serious set of his brow. With a blink, your eyes lower to the hollow of his throat. Hesitant fingers reach out and wrap over his biceps, scratching at his skin. 
“Please, Daddy, will you fuck me?” The words are a whisper, a secret that you can’t confess. That every time the title falls past your lips, the heat that rises up through your body, setting you alight, is not from shame but a burning captivation. 
“That’s my girl,” Ari coos. 
His hips clap to yours. No longer restrained undulations, but bold claiming thrusts that knock your teeth together and drive you out of your senses. He traces his fingers down your back, holding you in place for a moment. The way they sink into your voluptuous curves, imprinting him onto you. But they wander, yet to have found their true destination. 
They find your clit and fondle your lower lips, stretched tight around his cock, and continue to drift. They find their place back and around, finding the crack of your cheeks and the puckered rosebud between. 
Your eyes widen, hips bucking away in surprise. He’d never expressed any kind of interest before. Your gaze darts to his eyes, wary of upsetting him but searching for answers. Shocked away from the rising euphoria of climax.
“Daddy always takes care of you, doesn’t he?” he asks with a soothing kiss, circling the sensitive flesh of your hole. 
You hum in high-pitched affirmation, focused on his finger’s tender, slick prodding and all the more distracted by the grind of his pelvis catching on your clit. 
The tip of his finger breaches you, and you wince. Unused to such violation, you’re unsure how to feel. Delicately he pets, in and out, only the tip. Offering a feeling of fullness that you can’t quite grasp. 
“Been thinking about this,” Ari explains, working in rhythm to coax that smoldering glow into a wildfire once again. “I know you never mentioned it in our talks, but you did say you wanted to be all mine. Mind.” he accentuates the word with a thrust of both cock and finger. “Body.” He thrusts again, his digit sinking further into your hole on his retreat. “Soul.” Another thrust that hits just right. 
Rapture eclipses your mind, a white burst that consumes you and sends you reeling over the peak of your orgasm. A sound rips from your chest. Your nails scratch, drawing red stripes across his arms. At the sight, lungs heaving for breath, you release him and reach up to sink your fingers into his hair. You grip at the root and buck toward him. Entranced by the high that rushes through you. Your lips find his and you moan into his waiting mouth. Content as he is to drink it up. 
The aftershocks continue to seize your frame, even as Ari continues on. Steady in his destruction of your sanity and your propriety. 
“You’re so tight, li’l dip,” he says, heavier than before. His muscles strain as he talks, holding himself back from the precipice. “We can work with that. Got a friend, makes quality accessories.” He moans and squeezes his eyes shut for the first time, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. “The thought of you with a cute little tail plug and ears, frilly little bow around your neck.” He huffs and you whine before he kisses you with fervent force. “My own li’l baby bear to play with just how I want.”
His words cut short of a breath, unable to hold out any longer. He cums inside you, painting your walls. You mewl at the sensation. He breathes in relief with a few more weary thrusts of his cock. 
“What do you think?” Ari asks, with a sunny smile, pulling his finger from your ass but keeping himself seated deep inside you. 
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“You’re aware of all the trouble you’ve caused, miss?” The officer—no sheriff—sits across from you, coffee cup by his hand and file open flat in front of him. 
You nod your head and look around the dismal, bare walls of the room. A cup of cool water sits in a glass by your hand, untouched since another officer brought it in. 
“I didn’t realize my dad would notice,” you say honestly. Your pulse spikes in your ear, a constant thundering beat. Teeth on edge, you look to the man across from you and meet his eyes. Your hands a ball of kneading fingers on your lap. 
“So, you claim that this disappearance was a spur of the moment getaway. No foul play.” There’s a southern drawl to his words, not something you’d expect to find here. You examine him. Brown hair styled in an overgrown crew cut, greying at the temples. His leather jacket strains over his shoulders and stomach. His face puffy but wrinkled, showing his age. He chews on a piece of candy, rattling it between his teeth while he waits. 
“I’m sorry for the trouble I caused,” you say, reciting the words practiced with Ari. Your fingers dip into the collar of your shirt, pulling the knit fabric away from your throat. You wonder what time it is now. It seems an age ago that Ari escorted you into the local police station and explained the situation for you to the officers from the city. You’d expressed an inclination for a vacation, and he’d provided his private cabin. You’d been off the grid, getting some much needed rest. Hadn’t heard a thing about a search or your father’s passing until Ari had a chance to come get you. 
“Your father’s acquaintance seems very, uh, friendly,” the sheriff says with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows. 
Your cheeks heat. This is the moment, you think. If ever there were a time to cry out for help, for escape. Sitting across from an officer of the law, someone who can get you away. Already suspicious of the situation, ready to act. 
Your mouth dries, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “We,” you stumble over your answer, “you see, the thing is, we…” 
The sheriff’s eyes narrow, scrutinizing you. Tears threaten, born from the stress of the situation and the volley of thoughts filling in your head. You look to the table, hands clutching into tight fists on your lap. Your diaphragm expands with a deep breath. 
“After we met through my dad, we kept talking, even though I didn’t realize it was him at the time,” you explain as steady as you can, mind full of images of being completely alone. Without family, without friends, without Ari. “We’ve bonded.” 
The name tag on the sheriff’s shirt glints in the fluorescent lights. You trace the letters with your eyes and wait for him to say something. 
“What would that bond be, exactly?” Sheriff Bodecker asks. 
Your mind blanks on how to describe it. The tether almost visibly linking you to Ari. The thought a bittersweet one. That this was all inevitable. 
“He takes care of me,” you reply, tilting your head, ready to explain further.
But a sleazy scoff from the sheriff stops you. “I get it,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Couldn’t have your old man know about his friend being your sugar daddy on the side.” He closes the file and leers at you, a slow perusal at your figure over the table. 
“I—” you stop. Words fizzle on your tongue. No way to form an appropriate defense for yourself. 
He licks his lips and stands. One hand rests on his belt buckle, the other holds his file. He taps it on the table and says, “I guess you’re free to go, then. Your beau must be worried about you by now.”
Your skin crawls at his suggestive tone—every word from his mouth somehow dripping with innuendo. 
“Let’s get you home.” The door opens with his hand, and he directs you out with a nod. 
You scurry past him, a wary glance sent back over your shoulder. Your feet carry you quickly to the front of the station where Ari waits, lounging back on a wooden bench. His head lifts the moment your footsteps echo over to him and he jumps up. 
“Everything alright?” he asks in a whisper, hands grasping your shoulders and peering into your eyes. “Did you tell them what happened?” 
The heavier tread of Sheriff Bodecker’s shoes approach and stop by the front desk. 
“She answered all our questions. The city cops are all satisfied,” he says with a tip of his head. “She’s free.”
Ari’s arm wraps around your shoulders and he breathes in relief. He guides you out of the station and into his car, parked as close as possible. The shadows of night hang all around you. Owls hooting in the trees and not another soul driving down the street. How late could it possibly be? 
You find the passenger seat and Ari closes your door. Before you can blink, he’s backing out of his spot and driving away from the station. Your eyes still locked on the light shining from the glass panes of the door, and possibly your best and last chance at escape. 
Ari’s arm stretches over the back of the bench seat, pulling you close and tucking you beside him. You follow his silent direction and rest your head against your captor’s chest. The sheriff’s final words echoing in your head. 
Free. Sure.  
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kittyamore0 · 1 year
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HEY IVWAS WONDERING IF YIU CAN WRITE y/n is pregnant with Ethan’s kid and Quinn had stabbed her in the stomach not knowing and when he finds out in the theater with Tara, sam, his dad, and sister he feels bad for what he’s done. But y/n is furious with him and heartbroken. AND YOU CAN ADD MORE IF U WANT IF NOT ITS PERFECTLY FINE!!
A/N: me wanting to beat Quinns ass now A/N: IM CRYING....
My sweet baby...
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RATING: SFW
FANDOM/GENRE : Horror, dark romance, scream 6, ghost face, angst
TAGS: @kittiescrownedsoul
POV: 2nd person
WRITING STYLE: one-shot, angst
PAIRING: Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader
REMINDER: Do NOT transfer, translate, modify, copy or steal my ideas! READER: You will not be called 'Y/N' you will be called '[Name]'
CW: Blood, murdering, stabbing, knives, fractured fetus, crying, angst, fem! Reader, pregnant reader, mentions of unprotected sex, pregnancy test, passing out, vomiting, etc..
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You felt such a rush when you found out just 2 weeks ago. You had been experiencing stomach pain, nausea, vomiting, cravings, late period timelines, tiredness, all signs of pregnancy.
Thats when you took a pregnancy test. It came out positive. You were both happy and worried, afraid for the future, but just excited for it as well. You knew who the baby belonged to. Ethan Landry, your boyfriend for about 3 years.
You only slept with him, and recently, you both had unprotected sex. It had to be his, so you got a DNA test. He wasn't aware. You weren't going to tell him just yet, and with the ghost face impressions? Hell no. You didn't tell anybody, which is what you should've done.
Maybe then, would Ethan warn Quinn to be so careful with you, but no. The world had to curse you.
You felt so heartbroken when Quinn, detective Bailey and Ethan turned out to be ghostface. It wasn't supposed to be that way. No.
You were supposed to catch the fucker with Tara, Sam, Anika detective Bailey, and everyone else...Then get your happy ending by telling everyone you're pregnant and it was your boyfriends, Ethan.
But all those plans were dropped when you felt a sharp blade force its way into your stomach, where your baby laid.
Quinn had stabbed you in your stomach, due to the way she saw you hold your stomach. Not thinking too much about it, she thought you had an easily disturbed stomach so that stomach became her number 1 stabbing spot for you.
"[Name!]," Tara shouted. "Not one step, Tara," detective Bailey pushed her away., to which Sam caught her.
Ethan winced at the sight of Quinn stabbing you. "Quinn, maybe you should " Quinn cut him off. "Not now, Ethan!" She chuckled and twisted the knife in your stomach. No...no...no, no, no, no!
"Pay back for stabbing me in the shoulder, bitch." Quinn's smile grew further, and with all your strength, you pushed her back, causing her to loosen her grip on the knife and stumble back.
You let out an ear piercing shriek, to Quinns satisfaction. Ethan felt otherwise. He felt sick. His own girlfriend, getting stabbed right before his eyes. It felt...wrong.
You sobbed and pulled the knife out of you, dropping down to the ground in an instant while muttering, 'No, no, no, no, no's...'
Though, Quinn didn't expect you to drop down like you're giving up after putting up a hell of a fight, and muttering, 'no's'
She expected you to scream, scream at her, Ethan, anything, but you seemed more focused on your stomach. Why? She shook her head along with the thoughts too.
She grabbed the knife and moved forward, not wanting to waste any time killing you. Ethan had other plans, but both of them halted their movements when they heard your shouts.
"MY BABY!"
What..? Did Ethan hear that correctly? Did ALL of them hear that correctly? "My sweet baby..." Sam stepped forward, detective Bailey didn't stop her though.
"You're...pregnant...?" guilt struck Sam, Ethan, and Tara. "I found out 2 weeks ago. Oh, god...no..." you continued to sob even more as you rubbed your wounded belly.
Ethan pushed Quinn out the way and tried to make his way towards you. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" He flinched away. Sam pushed him, and he tripped on his feet, landing his ass on the floor.
"YOU FUCKING POOR EXCUSE OF A BOYFRIEND. YOU COULDN'T EVEN NOTICED SHE WAS PREGNANT?" Quinn seethed with angry. "Don't talk to him like! " Tara banged the nearby metal. "Shut the fuck up! You're the one who stabbed her! Our friend...WHO IS PREGNANT!" Tara screamed, shutting Quinn up quickly.
Detective Bailey just stand there in shock, trying to process the fact that you were pregnant. I mean, he doesn't care. He still wants to kill you, but the shock just hits him.
"The fact you're the fucking father too.." Tara sneers at Ethan while tears build up in his eyes. He never meant to hurt you. He told Quinn to be careful around you so many times. She didn't listen, always calling him a 'pussy' for simply asking her to be more careful with you.
Now not only had he hurt you, the love of his life, but his child too. "Im sorry...[Name]...i i really am...im so sorry..." you just shake your head, which he starts sobbing to at your response. Quinn scoffs. "Why should you be sorry for this bitch! " Quinn falls back when Tara's fist comes straight for her face.
"I trusted you...I let you into my home, let you touch me...I was happy to have your baby, but now, NOW THAT CANT EVEN BECOME A POSSIBILITY!" Ethan sobs even more, averting your heart broken gaze.
Sam's by your side rubbing your arm. Ethans on his ass sobbing. Tara and Quinn are fist fighting, and detective Baileys still standing there in shock like a slow dumbass.
"I hate you..."
Your words hit him like a bullet, shattering every part of him. "No...no...no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO!" He sobs even more, a cry that would usually be so pretty, but now so ugly when his tainted true colors show. "Tha thats a lie! it has to be...!"
"Im sorry, Sam, Tara," You leaned into Sam as black dots danced in front of your vision. "[Name], stay with me. please!" Your body went limp, eyes closed, your breathing slowing down.
The last thing you heard was Ethan screaming your name.
˚ʚ✰ɞ˚˚ʚ✰ɞ˚˚ʚ✰ɞ˚˚ʚ✰ɞ˚˚ʚ✰ɞ˚˚
Your eyes flutter open. Police sirens stung your ears, while a crying Tara and relieved Sam hovered over your body. "Wha....what happened...?" Tara smiled sweetly. "The doctor said the baby was very protected, and that the knife didn't hit the baby...!" Your eyes lit up and you looked down at your stomach.
"The baby will be okay, as for Ethan, Quinn, and detective Bailey...Quinn, and Bailey are dead. Ethan...he helped us after you passed out, but he ran away after, and told us to tell you that he said he loves you."
You hummed and closed your eyes, while a lazy smile was placed on your lips.
Thought, you do wonder where Ethans might've ran off to. That was...until you got a note , and a phone call 9 months later...
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tinfairies · 1 month
Text
You're Not In Control
Strade x GN! Reader
TW: force feeding, starvation, vomit, torture, fingernail pulling... Strade is a warning in of himself.
A/N: thank you to my beautiful wife for the German translations, I hope I used them right. Also this is the first thing I've ever written for Strade and I'm still not super confident I got him right so... Be nice please.
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Thinking about being held captive by Strade.
You had earned the privilege of leaving the basement. (with the shock collar on of course)
You were defiant and he liked that, he liked that he hadn't entirely broken you.
Strade noticed that you didn't eat much, and slowly you started eating nothing at all.
He didn't care at first, Ren didn't eat much when he was first brought up from the basement either.
As it continued he got irritated and realized that it wasn't just anxiety keeping you from eating. You were starving yourself intentionally.
Strade didn't like that. For many reasons, but mainly because he didn't have control.
He acted like a stubborn dad at first, telling you that you couldn't leave the table until you finished your food.
"Alright, schatz. We're going to sit here until you can behave and eat." his voice dripped with venom.
Your defiance struck a fire in him when you just sat and stared at the plate.
It was decent food, steak that'd been cut up for you, green beans and potatoes. By all means it was a good meal.
But you were stubborn and refused to relenquish total control to that psychopath.
Strade sent Ren off to bed, and sat at the table all night with you. Trying to break you.
It didn't work.
The next night, he started to try and beat you into eating.
"Wenn du es nicht anders willst, bitte. We'll do it your way then." You should have been scared, and part of you was, but all that bubbled up was anger.
He removed his belt and struck you all along your back.
Dark welts formed underneath the thin shirt you were wearing, and you dropped to the floor after a few minutes of endless beating.
He kicked your ribs, the steel toe of his boot slamming into your fragile bones. You tried not to cry out, but sobs tore through your throat despite the effort. The final kick to you stomach was so hard that you threw up bile.
"Kleine Zicke! You fucking brat!" He barked, and you spent the night in the basement.
That didn't break you either.
The third night he tied your wrists and ankles to the chair and tried force feeding you.
"Mund auf. Open." he spoke like a steel knife.
Each time you spit it out, he stabbed the fork into your arm. You still didn't break.
He then put a ring gag in your mouth and tried to force a protein drink down your throat, you threw that up as well.
On the fourth night, he tied you to the chair again, but this time brought a pair of pliers up from the basement.
Each time you spit the food out, he'd pluck a fingernail from your hand.
He ran out of fingernails to remove, and you still hadn't swallowed a single bite and there was blood all over the floor.
A needless mess.
The fifth night was the final straw.
Strade had you and Ren sit at the table, he placed a plate of food in front of you and said that Ren wasn't getting food until you eat.
The look in your eyes excited him, it was defiant as always but it held a look of pleading.
A look that said "this isn't about him, leave him alone"
The three of you sat for hours, and it wasn't until you heard the sound of Ren's stomach growl that you finally gave in.
You took a bite of food, then looked to Strade. He just motioned for you to continue. By the third or fourth bite you realized that he was going to make you finish the whole plate before feeding Ren.
Once the plate was polished off, you dropped the fork abruptly. The sound of the metal clanging on the porcelain made Ren jump, and Strade just laughed then clapped his hands together.
"Sehr gut. That wasn't so hard now was it?" The smile on his face made you want to lash out.
You gave him that same fiery look as usual, but at least Ren got to eat.
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nanaanatiion · 22 days
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Omg your BBF!JJ is amazing could I request a BBF!JJ blurb(or however u wish to write it)of him and reader being in a secret relationship and how he would be in that situation!
Thank you and you’re an amazing writer!!
| Restricted Relations |
JOHN B'S HALF-SISTER!READER x JOHN B'S BESTFRIEND!JJ
warnings: underage drinking and smoking, profanity, fluff, mentions of abuse. MDNI!!
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Introduction: John B brought you to hang out with him and his friends after you practically begged him. You strut in with your f/c bikini and 2nd f/c cover-up, your brother looks embarrassed by your behavior but you just find it funny. John B introduces to his friends, Pulp, Sandrah, and Kekia, you think that's their names.., oh and you don't think you could ever forget JJ. JJ caught your eye the whole time, you could barely pay attention to your brother telling you his other friend's names. You quickly start a conversation with JJ, 'Hi, I'm Y/N but you can call me N/N, you're JJ right?' he gives you a warming smile, and you almost melt right there and then. 'Yup, that's me, do you uhm drink or smoke?' you've smoked a few times with your friends but not on the daily, but you do drink a lot at parties that you attend, so you take his offer 'Yeah, why not' you take the blunt from his hand and take a drag from it before handing back to him. You hope this is a good start....
Staying Secret: You begin going with your brother more often but he pays it no mind you make close friends with Pope, Sarah, and Kiara (you finally learned their names) but you have an even better relationship with JJ. You guys hit it off perfectly after meeting and you begin coming around more often but not too often so they don't get suspicious of your (drumroll plsss) relationship. You and JJ usually hang out when the group isn't together or when you guys take beer runs together. You usually hang out place is at your house when John B is out doing something, you guys makeout, cuddle, do his makeup, watch movies, cook, and just other stuff when you're with each other privately.
You think your relationship is perfect, with no problems from your side, and you don't think he has any problems either until you find him at your window bloody and tears running is his face 'JJ what happened to you?!' you pull him into your room and leading him into your bedroom bathroom, he looks at you as if he's contemplating telling you something, he takes a deep breath. 'my dad beats me..' he mumbles, refusing to make eye contact, the air in your lungs immediately leaves 'w-wha..?' eyes prickle as you look at him for conformation. 'my dad did this' he slowly turns his head towards you, small tears running down his face. You kiss his wounds after wiping them with alcohol pads, you take a warm towel and wipe his face.
'do you want to stay the night.?' you mumble while cuddling him, he hums in response and you slowly get up. you pull out some of his clothes and turn on the shower, 'jj c'mon so you can get in the shower..' you mumble, he groans as you pull him up and walk him into the bathroom ' get in the shower so we can sleep jj' you say sleepily ' can you get in with me?' you nod as you take off your clothes and get in. you wash him up then yourself and get out and cuddle for the rest of the night.
QnA:
Q: why is she john b's half sister and not blood?
A: because john b is white and as a black women I don't want to exclude other races by them being fully blood
Q: why is there no smut?
A: because i wasnt sure if miss/mister wanted smut but feel free to ask for a smut part 2
Q:can i request a hc,blurb, or series?
A: yes for now because soon i will be closing my submission box because of school reasons but I can take to week for ur ask to be published
pls send asks and ideas and if u want to be added to my tag list pls ask
published by nanaanatiion™! please do not copy, translate, or post on other website/apps, reblogging is fine as seen in my banner
banner credits: @cafekitsune pls support her
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