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#also how dare you insult my boys
justanotherdrfan · 2 months
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So I’ve been talking to this guy recently and we had plans to go for coffee over the weekend until he wrote this bullshit:
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mellowwillowy · 3 months
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Yan! Mafia Ringleader x GN Reader
What? I'm sick of these classic Mafia husbands trope yet we all know damn well that part of us is digging real deep into it. So allow me to hand you one of my Mafia OCs.
One of the nation's biggest threats has yet to be your lover, wagging his imaginary tail as he rested his face on your lap. We are so desensitized to how immoral a mafia is due to the romanticization of it to the point you just straight up ignore all his crimes!
Because of his work, the two of you can't really have a private date somewhere out there. Sure the bodyguards are not in sight but you know better than to think that they are not lurking around to keep you both safe from his rivals.
"Won't you gimme a smooch'aroo?" "... In front of your men?" "*Pouts* Pretty please?"
You love it when he throws all cold facades away and shifts himself into a touch-starved puppy! Who would have known this guy just sent one of his enemies their men's heads as a lingering threat to not exert themselves~
While your lover is not involved in the human trafficking side, it doesn't justify his actions for being the largest drug dealer in this nation. Whatever type you are looking for, junkies, he has it all stored for you, with a price of course.
But if you are a junkie reader then he'd be quite worried. You see, he may be dealing drugs but that doesn't mean he's doing drugs. He likes nicotine but would rather not indulge himself in yet another addiction okay? And that goes the same way to you! Please stop it.
And may I tell you that Kaspar enjoys ranting to you about how his day(s) has been, how he wants you to comfort him as you praise him for surviving yet another day? Empty plates are not filled with him just sitting around and he has to fight every day to not remind himself of the old days?
"Oh yes, have my beloved eaten? You are not going through another silly diet, right? Trust me, food is meant to be enjoyed and not over-calculated!"
There are also times he'd rant non-stop about this certain lawyer that he's working with. Of how one of the nation's biggest threats, has been reduced into an errand boy for his spouse! Can you believe that, babe?
Overall Rating? 9/10. Where did the 1 one go to? Your dead friend that insulted you and his punishments. Ehe.
Look, he has a problem with people who dare to look down on him and you, he has grown up in a rather unfortunate background in which he fights teeth and nails to break free so how DARE someone patronize him or you?
Yeah, it sounds romantic but not so cute when it's your literal bestie. He spares no mercy in how he deals with them too, the only mercy he's offering is one chance and nothing more.
Another dark side of him would be his... punishment. Ehe. Due to his upbringing as a ringleader, he is used to disciplining his men, rough. Sure he doesn't give you the same punishment as he does to his men but that doesn't mean it saves you from how unpleasant it is.
The worst punishment that wrenches his heart would be making you skip breakfast, lunch, and dinner! He doesn't have the heart to but he has to! (Honestly, in your opinion, there is literally worse punishment than this, not gonna name it.)
Yeah he is a Beelzebub at heart (Gluttony)
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cursedcola · 1 year
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Prompt: How protective are they of their S/O?
Characters: Dorm Leaders (for now).
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland.
A/N: I did one of these for my fire emblem blog…and probably will do for a few other fandoms on this one. I really had to get that Malleus brainrot out of my head omg this was just what i needed.
Riddle Rosehearts
6/10
Very rarely does someone describe Riddle as ‘calm’. The words are not synonymous and do not belong in the same sentence. Then again, not many ever imagined that he would take on a partner either.
More so - that someone would be willing to be his partner. With all the mandatory gatherings, expectations, unprompted lecturing, overbearing perfectionism - yes. Riddle is a ball of anxiety that touches everyone and every thing. Being his s/o is welcoming that for a daily basis (perhaps life)
He is shockingly anything but these things when he is truly in love. Riddle trusts his partner to handle themselves, and believes a hardened shell is good for navigating the world. He will not baby his partner, because he does not want to be smothered in turn.
You will walk along side him. Head held high with the figment of a crown balanced atop it. A Ruler, not a subject - and he will smile on you with pride.
However, this does not make him heartless. He is not protective of you in a physical or social sense…but boy does he get jealous. In the worst ways as well. Riddle is too prideful to get defensive in public so for most acute cases it manifests underneath his skin. He lets the irritation of other students’ flirting fester until he becomes passive aggressive. Heartslabyul students experience war flashbacks to before his ‘change of heart,’ as he goes sour for days, weeks…possibly even a month if his spouse does not reassure him. He cannot handle being ignored or anyone openly making advances on you with him near. It’s disrespectful both towards you and him (do they NOT see him? He is perfectly visible and WILL collar someone).
On one final note. He also has a low tolerance for verbal slander or vulgar talking. Sexual. If you haven’t picked up on it already. If he so much as hears a slither of a suggestive comment…he will kill someone. It’s one thing to hear someone call your partner beautiful. Riddle knows you are. People would be blind not to notice…but that kind of talk? The thought that someone would envision his partner in such a way and dare to speak of it? The disrespect on your name? They’re dead. Expelled. Gone. Kicked out of the dorm if they’re one of his even though no Heartslabyul member would dare speak of you that way.
"Excuse me? Just what is it that you think you are doing? Such lechery is cause for lifetime punishment! Have you no shame?! I would report this to the headmaster but I am often told to be more selfish. Perhaps now is a good time to start. What should be your punishment, hm?"
Leona KingScholar
8/10
Leona is not going to admit it. He really won’t. He’ll push and tell you to leave him be nearly every day…but the moment you start to walk he’s right on your heels.
At some point your bedroom at Ramshackle became his from the frequency of him sleeping over. He took over your dresser, booted Grimm to the armchair, and even brought over his bedsheets/pillows.
Pah. “They’re better quality than these rags,” my ass. He just wants his scent on you and what better way to make it happen then to sleep in his sheets.
Is it alright for the head of another dorm to never be around? Unlikely. However, no one has complained about their bossy senior being missing so all is well.
Like Riddle, Leona recognizes your strength. You handle more stress on the daily than he is willing to put up with. However, no one f*cks with you when he is present. Not unless they want to be pummeled. It takes a mighty ego for someone to think that they can get away with insulting Leona’s s/o right in front of him. Let alone threaten you.
Even jokingly. The only people allowed to do that are those he trusts. He knows that a slap on the wrist from Ruggie or your heartslabyul pups won’t do damage - but someone else? Leona has a newfound hatred for people like Floyd since they drag you into trouble. One misplaced step in your direction and Leona’s snaking his tail around your waist and partially shielding you.
Low-key he has anxiety about you going missing. If you do not show up for lunch in the garden (which is routine) then he gets irritable, and if you are going out late at night then he either tries to convince you to stay home or tags along begrudgingly. Even on your walks with Malleus. No, especially on your walks with Malleus.
Which leads us to the final protective criteria. Jealousy. Have you seen the movie Lilo and Stitch? Do you know the scene where Lilo is showing stitch the drawing of his “good vs.bad” and his badness levels were super high? Leona. Leona with his jealousy.
He will act cocky all he wants with the whole “everyone knows you’re with me shtick,” but he is one possessive mf. If he so much as sees one wandering eye? Doom. Not “i will pummel you,” doom but “i am going to ruin your reputation” doom because Leona calls it out instantly. No perverts on his watch and ESPECIALLY no flirts. The only person who gets to make Leona’s s/o blush is him. No cap.
"Oi! Where do you think you're looking? Yeah, you. The dazer. I'll give you something to gawk at - huh? Fine, but if they so much as step near then I am not backing down,"
Azul Ashengrotto
6/10
Two words. Floyd. Jade. Enough said.
The relationship between Azul and the twins is hella overused, but for good reason. These two are literally his right and left hand.
Azul is a worry wart. This number would break the scale if the tweel brothers did not exist. You can’t blame him for his anxieties either. You are the ONE thing that Azul cannot control. If he could, Azul would draft the perfect contract where you would live in a safe bubble with just him. Except that’s wrong, and you would not be happy.
He doesn’t want to control you. He wants you to be happy but he simply cannot help the anxiety. Out of all the dorm leaders, he has the most enemies. He also has experience with abandonment, bullying, and overall has low self confidence. All this feeds into his protectiveness because you are the one constant in his life that he wants to keep safe.
Introducing the twins. The buffer. His in-between on being an overbearing partner and normalcy. He doesn’t even have to ask them for help, because Jade and Floyd love you too. They keep an eye out when Azul can’t, and it brings comfort. Sadly you’re wrapped up in more scuffles than Azul finds comfortable…and he can’t stop you. He tried. You’re just too nosy…but wherever you go you are supported. He freaks the heck out if you ever come to him bruised, or if the grapevine carries bad news, but he knows that if the twins aren’t spooked then you’re all good.
He worries about you leaving him willingly. Either you wake up and decide that he isn’t your match, that you won’t want to join him after graduation, or you might even decide to leave Twisted Wonderland all together. Azul is happy that Crowley is a lazy liar because it means that you have no way to leave. It’s selfish…but he can’t help it. You have to understand that for Azul? There is no one else. Only you. He is not the type to love twice, this is a one and done deal.
Which is precisely why he is easily jealous as well. Not to the extent of causing an altercation, but he can and will assert dominance. He may feel unworthy but when did that ever stop Azul? ‘Fake it until you make it’ as they say, and Azul will make whatever soul who dared to step in his territory feel like smeared shit underneath his shoe.
"Ah! Angelfish~ I missed you dearly. I hope your wrist is feeling better from that spill in poison making - how do I know about that? Oh the walls have ears, y'know. Can I get you something to drink?"
Kamil Al’ Asim
2/10
Head empty. Brain go brrrrrrrr
Just kidding. Kalim's head is full of thoughts. Some about class, others about his siblings, friends, maybe tomorrow's lunch - and you. He thinks a lot about you. Your smile, your laugh, when he'll see you next and if you'll call him soon. His heart is too full of positive thoughts to worry.
It's really that simple. Kalim is too optimistic to be protective. The idea of you cheating on him hasn't crossed his mind once. If someone flirts with you? Well, so long as your cool with it then heck yeah. He agrees. He supports it because you deserve to be praised.
Which...actually ends up chasing people off anyways. Someone calls you gorgeous? Comments on your clothes or maybe compliments you on your performance during the last exam? You bet Kalim is right there egging them on. He is the poster boy of the golden-retriever supportive boyfriend. Spewing his speech about how you're amazing and that he is so lucky to have you. It gets embarrassing but it does the job. By the time he's done your pursuer either got annoyed and gave up...or recognized that it would be impossible to match Kalim's love. Only an idiot would break up with someone who adores the very ground they walk on, and you are no idiot.
Tell him to stop and he won't because (1) he loves seeing you flustered. It's like a reward and (2) he refuses to let his love go unknown. In other words, everyone knows that you are taken. There is not a single soul at Night Raven College that hasn't heard about Kalim's simpery for the prefect.
Another unconscious checkmark. Money is power, and Kalim's family has a lot of if. They've funded more events at NRC than Crowley has the will to remember. No one. And I mean NO ONE. Would even tinker with hurting you. It's funny how the moment you start to date Kalim, the hole in Ramshackle's living room gets fixed by the next day. Y'know, the one that's been weathered for months and letting all the heat out. The heat from the fireplace because Ramshackle never got proper thermal vents installed. All the broken locks in your dorm were changed, and there was a lovely fruit-basket sitting outside on the porch. Compliments of the NRC staff <3
Let's not forget about the uhh...extra support from Jamil. I know. I know. Jamil caring for Kalim's s/o is a given. He'd do it even if he wasn't asked. The fact is that Kalim requests for Jamil to help you. Kalm has the fortunate luxury of most things being handled on his behalf. He has no reason to worry because there are instilled factors put in place to prevent the emotion from being supported.
Yet, he is of mind to recognize that being with him has costs. He knows that you can handle your own, but what about threats you don't expect? The money grubby kiss-asses and subtle dangers like poison. He's not stupid. You're new to Twisted Wonderland and there is so much about this world that you don't know. He wants to help you personally, but knows that it would do more harm than good. So he confides in Jamil, and then never speaks of it again.
"I'm sure that they will be alright but can you keep an eye just in case? Don't let them know or they might feel scared!...really? Thank goodness! I am meeting them soon so byebye for now. Remember to keep this a secret, Jamil! Hehe~"
Vil Schoenheit
2/10
He's a narcissist
This one is a bit short, and for good reason. Vil's ego.
Vil needs to be perfect. Has to. He truly is the fairest and will be perceived as no less. The voice in his head may occasionally speak otherwise but it never takes hold over his control. You will never see it present itself. He would sooner die.
If there is a soul in Twisted Wonderland who is brave enough to move in on his s/o, then he commends them. It takes courage to willingly offer yourself up as an example to the masses.
He's imagined it. Some pour student attempting to flirt awkwardly and in the most boorish way. Be it a single rose on your desk with a letter of love declaration, or a witty one-liner they pulled out from a book? How dull. The only emotions that the figment evicts are disgust and pity. The former on your behalf for being subjected to such mediocrity, and the latter on behalf of the student. It's bad enough for them to be rejected by you, but now they must be shamed by Vil. He is a merciful man, but allow one to make the mistake of chasing what's his and others will soon follow. As is the way of this competitive world.
He does not scorn any for being attracted to you. How could he? After all, it takes a marvel to woo someone like himself. It's natural for others to notice your sparkle.
They may look, but not touch. A privilege he gives that is not to be betrayed.
Like Kalim, he has no consistent reason to worry. He is so confident in his ability to smite anyone and anything that it is the biggest deterrent to all with ill intent.
On occasion there may be instances of social media backlash, or invasions of privacy. These irk him somewhat, but he knows that they will pass. So long as you are not distressed, then he does not mind them.
"Oh dear, just ignore them. In a week or two you'll be yesterday's news and they will find some other poor soul to torture....hmm. If it bothers you so much, then I will shield you as we walk. Come. The paparazzi loves this face anyways,"
Idia Shroud
8/10
I have said it before and I will say it again. Idia's largest tie to his dorm is his attitude. *cough* His temper. He is highly competitive despite his self-deprecating nature. His ego is unmatched. He is also snarky, and if pushed can talk someone down harsher than Crewel.
He also has too much time on his hands. Schoolwork is a chore that ticks maybe a few hours out of his day. He barely leaves his room, and even more rarely leaves his dorm. For the most part your relationship relies on you coming to him. That's okay. You knew this going in and have accepted it. He is also grateful for how accommodating you've been with his situation and in reassuring him. Yes sometimes he can be an asshole and get greedy. You always put him in his place though, and somehow your relationship dynamic is balanced just right. Not perfect, but not unhealthy.
Comfortable. Secure. Idia is happy. Do you have any idea how hard that is to achieve? He is well aware. He sits around during his free time with it nagging him. Just waiting for the day you grow tired or he lets you down. Some things can't be undone. He's hurt Ortho at times despite loving him more than anything. He'll hurt you and he's scared that when it inevitably happens that you'll leave him.
Idia protects you from himself. From his want to hog your attention and let his greed for your attention take over. When you first started dating, he half-wanted to get you your own tablet to attend school with. Move you into Ignihyde and lock you away with him. Where you would only see him, spend time with him, eat your meals with him, play games with him, save your kindness for only him, and be safe. No more getting into normie messes like magic duels and fighting beasts. No more working towards finding a portal that will take you away...
Almost. He knew that would hurt you. Somehow he matured enough to know that and restrain himself. What the heck did you do to him?
This doesn't mean you're entirely free though. He's still frightened. People scare him and it's bad enough that he has to worry over Ortho. Now you?
He watches you go around campus through the security cameras, and very rarely are you spotted without his tablet floating nearby. His attendance has been better in the classes you're in, and he hates that his teachers have noticed. His reputation has improved, since he's forced to at least say a greeting to the people you hang around once in a while.
Jealousy fuels the flame. He holds back as much as he can, but Idia has never loved like this before. His social awkwardness completely takes the backseat if someone he deems a threat is nearby. If someone flirts with you he has no filter in the moment, and likely beats himself up for it later on. This happens often due to your popularity...ugh. Damn you normies and your small talk.
He's bound to witness one of the many skirmishes you get thrown into. Crowley treats you like a walking campus security...and he is not happy. Not at all. I stated above that he very rarely leaves his room. More so his dorm. Even he has limits and won't sit back just to hear yelling through his earmuffs. The first time it happens? Well, he's bolting. After? Lets just say he had some special security measures installed in his tablet....
"Are you sure you don't want to come over? I got this new game for us to play and I bet I can beat you at it....ugh. Fine. Whatever. Just text me when you're walking home - No! I'm not watching you! Just shut up and do it please!"
Malleus Draconia
10/10
…must I explain?
Do you have any idea what happened when the name 'Tsunotaro,' fell from your lips? Do you?
No. It didn't just make him laugh his little cute fufufufu~ in his head. It flipped a switch.
He fell in love. Right then and there. He might not have known it yet but it's the truth. No one had ever dared to call him something so silly or look at him with pure joy. The smug twinkle in your eye as you declared it proudly.
He was yours, and you were his. You were to the only person in all of Twisted Wonderland that could ask him to jump, and in turn he would ask "how high".
In that moment, Malleus Draconia would kill for you. He would die for you. Loving you would soon become as easy as breathing. In a way, it already was. He simply underestimated at the time how deep his affection for you would root itself in his heart. He mistook it for soft adoration, but it was merely the calm before the storm. That instant was the catalyst to a lifetime of love, and also a lifetime of sorrow.
Being a dragon has nothing to do with it. Bonds with this man run deep. Family is the most important thing, and you are his love. There is no puppy love dating. None of that shit. Only courting because you WILL be his betrothed and you WILL become his spouse. This man is in love and he will accept no other. That is simply his personality. His emotions are pure and heavy. Raw. Fragile. Honest.
He will keep you safe. He has seen you fearful. Seen your strength as you transverse new world. At first it intrigued him as he watched from the sidelines, but now he wishes to travel back and steal you away. Take you to safety and prevent all those horrible events from happening, even though they were necessary for your friends to grow. Nothing is worth you being hurt. He would sooner let the school burn than see another scar on your body or mind.
The day he came to terms with his affections (which did not take long) he swore, never again. Even prior to courting you, never. Your friendship was irreplaceable. The only thing allowed to take you from him would be your own mortality....and even that would soon become a stretch, he's working on it.
View Malleus like a warm blanket. Comforting, not suffocating. A calming presence that wraps around you and fills your body with warmth on the coldest days. You would never dream to leave him. He ensures it. He is not a perfect man, but he is one that will love you like no other on the planet. Many vow that their love is eternal on their wedding day. This is not always upheld.
Malleus is a man of his word. You will see it deep in his emerald eyes the moment he declares his love. Nothing will ever bring you harm. No one will ever offer what he can provide. Not a being in existence will be able to match the affection this man holds. His love truly is eternal.
"You are my deepest treasure. Do you realize what this means?...Haha. No, I will not force you to join me in gargoyle studies. Not unless you wish it...It means that I am yours, and in turn you are now mine. No one will dare harm you unless they wish to become my enemy,"
Bonus: PLATONIC! Bestie Grimm
10x10^10
Little man, big heart.
Heart says to protect the henchman
So protect the henchman he shall do
No googoo eyes are allowed. He will attack ferociously
He will challenge all threats, and then drag you to run away if someone actually tries to fight him
Little man leaves you his spare tuna if you look sad. Be grateful!
He just wants you to like it here, okay? Otherwise you'll drop out and he'll lose his enrollment! Don't think too much on it
Will defend your honor to the very end. Only the great Grimm can make fun of his henchman! All others will feel the power of his flames
....please patch him up if he returns home injured. Deuce tried but the bandages are never tied right
"What happened? Well wouldn't you like to know! Hmph. Nothing more than a few lower lackeys trying to tussle with the Great Grimm...Did I win? Of course I won! What kind of talk is that....sheesh. Last time I defend your name. Hmph. Nothing! I said nothing!"
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itsjusthockey · 9 months
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Hey hun!! Could u write about something about Jack getting injured pretty bad with him being his clumsy self and catching his edge or something. Reader feels obligated to pamper him every second of everyday and is just so gentle with him it gets to the point where Jack is like “babe just because I hurt my leg doesn’t mean we can’t make out or do it” cause reader is like so scared of hurting him but Jack is just super needy
Smooth - Jack Hughes
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Summer Series Open Now
This was a request, keep sending them I love them (if I get more than five new request, I drop a new fic tomorrow)
I changed a few little things but I love how this turned out
Much longer than expected, whoops
w.c 1,516 (credit to gif maker) (slight suggestive content)
You’re honestly surprised Jack has lived to see the grand age of 22. He may think he’s agile, smooth even, but you know better. In fact, you’d dare even to say that your boyfriend is one of the clumsiest people you know. It’s honestly a miracle he hasn’t broken anything, especially since this summer; he’s really been pushing his limits.
“Babe, Babe! Look.”
You turn your head up from the book you are currently devouring to stare at your boyfriend. You watch as he does a cute little flip on the wave and throws you a couple of peace signs. You smile, give him a thumbs up, and not a second later, he dives off the board and into the lake.
He quickly gets into the boat, grabs a towel, and shakes out his hair. As soon as he’s only a little wet, he walks toward you, sitting right next to you and placing your legs on top of his.
“That must be a damn good book. Usually, you can’t take your eyes off me.”
You roll your eyes at him, gently placing the book down. “Well, if you must know, it is very interesting. Lots of murder, lots of mayhem.”
As soon as the sentence leaves your lips, he snatches the book from your lap, reading the back insert. After a couple of seconds, he hums.
“Looks kinda good.”
You smile and snatch it back. “I’ll add it to your list.”
Jack nods, smiling again at you, and leans over to kiss your forehead. When he pulls back, he nods toward Luke, who is currently surfing at the back of the boat.
“I think I’m gonna go again; try that thing Luke saw on TikTok.”
Once he says that, you narrow your eyes at him.
“The last time you tried something like that, both of you almost drowned.”
This time Jack rolls his eyes, shaking his head wildly.
“Please (Y/N), your lack of faith is insulting. We’re experts.”
You shrug your shoulders at your boyfriend; you honestly don’t care; you know that sometimes their little tricks can become problems.
Mere minutes later, the two of them are hooked up and gliding effortlessly on the water. Quinn is driving the boat, and you’re watching, realizing this may be something you want to see. You’re also sitting beside Trevor, who’s filming the entire thing.
It’s starting great; they do a few little tricks while you and Trev cheer them on. You also catch when Jack does another turn a throws a wink your way, dragging his hand through his hair which he knows you love.
You’re honestly pretty impressed at the pair, not that you’d ever let them know that, but they look good. Everything seems to be going great until it’s not.
You’re all still cheering them on when they reach their final move. One second they’re both good, then in a blink, they both go down, but not before you hear a slight yelp from your boyfriend as he hits the water.
As soon as they fall, Trevor’s eyes dart to you, both of you sharing the “oh fuck” look. Quinn notices this, too, and weaves the boat around quickly.
When you finally get to the pair, they both look a little nervous. Trevor moves first, quickly moving to put down the ladder. Seconds later, he’s helping pull Jack up, Luke also helping to push him into the boat. You can’t help but wince yourself as you watch your boyfriend's nose scrunch up in pain.
As soon as he gets into the boat, he swings his leg up, and everyone can see the blood dripping down and a giant purple bruise forming.
Without saying a word, you grab the first aid kit from the front of the boat and swing into action. You sit across from your boyfriend, wordlessly opening a few supplies. You’re not mad, of course; you’re just worried. Injuries aren’t ideal for hockey players, even if they're small.
“Oh, son of a bitch,” Jack hisses as you wipe some alcohol pads over the rather large cut.
You glance up at him to see some tears welling up in his eyes, and as soon as you meet his eyes, he rips them away. You know he’s mad at himself and, obviously, in quite a bit of pain.
“Is he gonna make it?” Luke asks, watching behind you.
“Don’t know, might have to cut it off.”
You look toward Jack as you make the joke, trying to ease the slight tension, but he doesn’t seem very impressed.
Ten minutes later, you’re docked, and Trevor and Luke are tasked with getting Jack to the house. You stay behind, helping Quinn get the boat settled and doing the glamorous job of wiping your boyfriend's blood off the boat floor.
“He’s lucky that wasn’t worse.” Quinn breaks the silence. “I should’ve backed you up more.”
You shake your head, throwing away the bloody paper towels. “They were gonna do it anyway. He’ll be fine.
You both finish up and go to the house, seeing Luke and Trevor in the kitchen, but no sign of Jack.
“He’s upstairs,” Luke says, gesturing toward the stairs.
You walk by and ruffle his hair slightly, to which he wacks your hand gently away, throwing you an uneasy smile.
You head up the stairs to the bedroom, and when you enter, you see your boyfriend lying on the bed, his foot propped up with some ice on it. As soon as you enter, his eyes follow your figure as you move toward the dresser, grabbing some clothes to change into.
Before you go to the bathroom, you stop.
“Do you wanna shower all the lake and sunscreen off you?”
Jack whips his head toward you, and after a bit of silence, he nods. You move to help him, getting him into the bathroom and helping him peel off his shorts.
Soon you’re both in the shower, and you’re making sure he keeps his weight on the good leg. In the bathroom's light, the bruise and the cut look terrible, and your heart breaks everything he winces.
“I’m sorry.” He blurts out after minutes of silence.
You give him a confused look. “Why? It’s not like you planned on getting hurt, J.”
You quickly swipe some hair from his face, forcing him to look at you.
“I know. I just should’ve listened. And also, I was being a dick, which you don’t deserve, but I know if I talked to you, I’d start crying.”
His admission makes you even sadder, and you quickly pull your boyfriend down to meet you. Placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
“It’s okay, J.”
You finish the shower, and for the rest of the night, you dote on your boyfriend. You make sure he’s comfy, get you both snacks and turn on his favorite movie. Minutes tick by, and you’re comfortably tucked into his side when you notice he isn’t watching the movie.
“You okay? Tired?”
He shakes his head, and m he pulls you into him, connecting your lips. You smile into the kiss and then pull back away from him. This causes him to pout, and he leans back in, pulling you into him, but you resist.
"Hey now, let's not add more injuries to the list, shall we?" You give him a sweet smile and another quick peck, "How about you settle for snuggling? We don’t need any more dangerous stunts, and we can save that for when you're back to your agile, smooth self.”
Your teasing causes Jack to pout further and rolls his eyes, ducking down the meet your lips again. You slightly let him win, letting him deepen the kiss a bit before you pull back once again. As soon as you do, he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“I appreciate the concern, but I still have two legs, babe.”
He raises his eyebrow at his suggestive comment, and you roll your eyes back as far as they can go.
“Gross.”
He snickers, pulling you back in and moving his lips down your neck, stopping at the place you go crazy for. You can’t help but squirm as his lips send tingles down your spine.
“Jack, you're impossible," you laugh, trying to maintain some composure while he continues his teasing assault.
He lifts his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, if I can't be agile on the water, at least I can be smooth here," he winks, earning himself another eye roll from you.
“Smooth, huh?" you quip, a smirk forming on your lips. "I'll believe that when you can walk without limping."
He smiles another big smile, and his eyes grow soft.
“Please, I’m 100% sure you will heal me, and I promise I’ll be careful.”
You stare deep into his eyes, and you feel yourself breaking.
“Fine, but I’ll do most of the work.”
Jack's eyes darken as the words leave your lips, and at record speed, he pulls at your top.
“If that’s the case, I think I want to stay injured forever.”
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sugaryplum · 6 months
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broken ankles and middle names
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pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader summary: after a silly accident involving the hogwarts' infuriating moving stairs, you're found by a certain quiet boy (whom you not-so-secretly adore). warnings: no good exposition whatsoever, language mistakes, chaotic+flirty reader i want to be her!!! notes: this is part of a bigger story that i will probably never finish writing, let alone publish, so if it seems completely out of context, that's why. this is also the first thing on this tumblr blog and the first written thing i'm ever showing to tumblr besides poetry!!🤭 i hope you like it 🤍 let me know
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“what on earth happened to you?”
the situation is silly and absurd, so you laugh, despite the sharp pain that almost makes your eyes water. theo is kneeling beside you with a confused expression on his face, looking from your swollen ankle to your face.
“can you help me to the hospital wing? i can’t walk.”
all you have to do is look at him and he carefully picks you up from the cold floor. you put your arms around his neck for support. “i was walking up the stairs. and then the stairs moved. and then i fell. you know, i’m glad you’re here, there’s not a single soul on the corridors at this time of day, i was just going to get some books, i have free period–”
“you should watch where you’re walking.” his voice sounds like honey and if you weren’t basically laying in his arms right now, your knees would definitely go weak. but you act unbothered. “maybe i should’ve. but then you wouldn’t carry me. maybe this is a win after all.”
“you’re infuriating.” the small smile that cracks on his face doesn’t go unnoticed, especially when you can see his lips from up close.
“infuriating is my middle name.” there’s a lot of things you can see from up close. his eyelashes are long and he has more freckles than you thought. you like how the ends of his hair twist and fall on his forehead.
“annoying.”
“middle name.”
“stop with the middle names.”
after no more than a minute of silence you speak up again. “you’re so quiet.”
“you think so?” a normal person who doesn’t talk to theodore on the daily basis, probably wouldn’t be able to tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. but you are not a normal person. you pay way too much attention.
you come up with a response and giggle before you even get the chance to say it. “you could say that quiet is your middle nam–”
“if i dropped you right now, i bet you'd be whining like crazy.”
“there’s no need to test that.” you hold on to his neck a little tighter. “besides, you’re lucky i’m not whining right now. i’m in enormous amounts of pain.”
“i can tell. your ankle is twice its normal size.”
“you seem to know my ankles pretty well.” theo chuckles more audibly at your words and your heart flutters.
“that's my secret. i've been staring at them since fifth year.”
you gasp, pretending to be shocked. “i never knew my ankles were so desirable! now you got me worried, that fall might’ve been a threat to my beauty…”
“oh, very much so. you're lucky you had me there to carry you and take care of you in such a tragic moment.”
you never thought hogwarts' insanely big castle was exactly convenient. you’re constantly late for classes, walking takes up half of your daily life and you never know what is creeping around the corner. but now, when you’re being carried through it by the boy you like so much, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise?
“how far away is that wing?” you ask in a whiny tone just to get this attention, but in your mind and in your heart you thank merlin for the long corridors.
“don't you dare even start to complain now, after i carried you all this way.”
“i’m not complaining about you, i’m complaining about the castle. although i’m sure i could find some complaints about you…”
“oh?” he looks at you, slightly amused. “go ahead, do your worst.”
“well, for starters, you make weird comments about my ankles.”
“your ankles are my favorite thing about you.”
“that’s an insult.”
“you’re an insult.”
“MIDDLE NAME.”
he sighs and he calls you insufferable and you smile. you can expect the hospital wing right around the corner, but you wouldn’t mind staying in the pretty boy’s arms for a little longer.
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Text
“Slip of the tongue, Is no fault of the mind..?” TWST First Years accidentally confess to you
It’s all in the title-MY HANDS REALLY TYPED T*EY CLOVER THINKING THIS IS HEARTSLABYUL AND NOT FIRST YEARS 💀 short scenario write up. Trying a new format shjsjsjdj
**TW: One cuss word from Epel
Ace Trappola
“Argh, you’re so infuriating sometimes, you know that?!” You exclaimed, frustrated with the ginger haired boy in front of you who scowled. “Whatever…” he mumbled, turning away from you as he rolled his eyes.
You flared. “ ‘Whatever’?! Ace, you imbecile, you literally took a blast from that delinquent when we could’ve told a professor! Now you’re stuck in the infirmary! And daring to fight him? How reckless can you get?!” you chided Ace, who once again rolled his eyes and turned away. Yet, his eyes lingered to your form with a lace of guilt in his seemingly annoyed frown. Why do you even worry about him? You always troubled yourself for him when he definitely wasn’t the best guy around.
Why would you still look out for someone as troublesome as he is? And worry about him and stay with him and… care for him? Why?
“What were you thinking when you did that?” Your angry voice rang into his ear. Something in him made him snapped in frustration, his control broken into half. He swiftly turned to face you with an enraged look on his face, making you flinch slightly. But the next thing he said made you feel as if time had stop.
“Because I like you okay?! Do you think I want you to take the hit?” Your breath hitched. Ace softened his frown to become shock, realising he accidentally confessed to you.
“I-I-” Ace tried to come up with an excuse before you cut him off.
“You idiot… I-if you really liked me, then you wouldn’t get hurt for me! Obviously I care about you!” You shouted, a frown etched on your face with a blush burning as red as his own blush…
Deuce Spade
Deuce didn’t expect himself to end up with bandaged knuckles over his callous (and currently bruised) hands in the infirmary.
“Deuce, you punched that punk, obviously it ended with a fight!” You knocked sense into the boy who just looked down while sulking, biting his cheek.
“Why did you even punched him anyway? Just because he upset you doesn’t give you the right to retaliate with violence, I told you that before, right?! Not for his sake, but for your sake that you don’t get into trouble!” you reasoned with a frustrated look on your face.
Never did Deuce expected for you to be the first one rushing to him in the infirmary with a flurry of questions about his well-being and what happened. His heart warmed to the fact you cared for him again. Time and time again, you cared for a delinquent like himself. Even if the past is the past, he couldn’t let go of his sins in history.
When that Savanaclaw delinquent called you a useless student with no magic, he felt that the punch he sent across that punk’s way was to make up for what he was back then, but also because he loved you. He always had.
“Deuce! Listen to me! Why did you punch him?” You asked again, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked at you with a slight frown, mumbling about how they insulted you.
You sighed. “I could have dealt with them you know.” Deuce didn’t know why or what made him say his thoughts out loud. Maybe he wanted to justify himself? Or was it out of impulse? Whatever the case, he just did.
“Well I love you obviously, why would I let him get away with it when he’s right there for me to stop him? What he says isn’t true about you! You’re an amazing, beautiful and-” Deuce stopped to catch on what he was saying, blushing along with your speechless form. “I- I mean-!” You cut him off when you kissed him just as impulsively as he was…
Jack Howl
You were the only one who got to water his cacti. After teaching you the basics, the two of you just never seem to separate from one another. Jack was watering a cactus when you called for him.
“Hey Jack!” You called for him excitedly as he hummed in response.
“You’re looking pretty… sharp with your cacti~” He halted. Did you really just say that?
“Also, hope your Alchemy Assignment doesn’t succ!” You grinned mischievously at him when he turned around with a puckered face.
Sometimes, you just pester him with overly lame puns anyone would grimace at. But even when he does so, you never fail to cheer him up, brighten his day like the sunshine you are.
Maybe that’s why he fell for you.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if you revised. After all, cactus makes perfect!” You giggled. His pretend frown on his face slowly contorted into a burst of laughter, the fam that finally broke the unleashed his bright smile and laugh that made you laugh too.
“Sevens, that was so lame…” he chuckled as he calmed down a little. You smiled too, but immediately open your mouth agape when he said the following.
“I love you so much.”
He smiled to himself, facing a burning red you as he looked baffled. “Are you sick…” he trailed off, finally realising what he said before his cheeks grew red, unsure of what he should say.
“Well, I, um…” he stuttered. “Really?” You finally asked him, his voice stuck in his throat.
Looks like his “cact-I” is turning into a “cact-US”~
Epel Felmier
The petite and small-framed boy hurried over to your dorm, a look of excitement on his face. He felt overjoyed when he smelt the scent of boiling spicy noodles that came from the kitchen and he found you preparing two bowls of it.
“The instant noodles are ready!” You smiled at him. Epel blushed a faint pink, smiling back at you. You’ve always treated him with kindness, you even called him “a man”, something he always wanted to hear. You even said it with sincerity and genuineness that it makes him smile stupidly to himself all the time when he recalled that moment.
It was no mystery to everyone else that he liked you.
Everyone else but you that is.
“Epel, do you like it,” you asked the boy beside you who was slurping the warm, comfort noodles. He never could eat instant noodles in Pomefiore without Vil reprimanding him that it’s unhealthy for his skin. “Yah! Thanks’a Y/n!”
“I’m glad you like them.”
“You always cook them, y/n, of course they’d be fuckin’ great!” He grinned from ear to ear, making you laugh at his rowdy antics showing. He faltered back. “Oh, er, sorry I mean-”
“Don’t worry, I get what you mean. And no I won’t tell Vil,” you giggled.
“Man, I seriously am in love with you.”
You froze, the noodles you were chewing were cut clean into half by your teeth, the noodles that fell out from your mouth splashed back into the hot soup. Epel didn’t thought much when he said that, let alone so confidently without plan after all the times he’s planned a confession for you before never uttering a word out.
You blushed a crimson red, and so does he. He swallowed the lump in his throat, carefully thinking of what his next words should say. “I- I er-” He completely flunked it.
Epel sighed, looking to the ground in shame. “I’m sorry… I really do but if ya don’t-”
“I love you, too.”
Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek wasn’t someone lovey-dovey, or flowery with his language. He told his peers who discuss about love if he were to be in love, he’d just say it to their face with no hesitation.
…He said that before he met you.
Sebek couldn’t comprehend why he couldn’t just say it the moment he caught feelings, and it frustrates him. He planned and planned, but never could carry it out when he faces you.
“Sebek!” His heart raced, swiftly turning to your voice with a scowl on his face. “What is it, human?” he grumbled, secretly joyful about your arrival.
“I er… actually came to you for some advice…” you whispered, leaning closer to his ear as he shivered when he felt your hot breath tickle his ear. Sebek sighed. “What now?”
Honestly, of all the people in your gang he felt a bit lucky you chose him first (although I’m intrigued you did but eh- I would ask him how to make a protein shake-).
“There’s this guy who gave me a letter and… I think it’s a confession letter! He said he wanted to see me outside the gate..! W-what should I do?” He immediately furrowed his pale green brows. Of all things, why this? “Human, do you think I’m an expert in the foolish?” You turned away as you tapped your fingers together. “Well erm, you’ve always been straightforward… I wanted to tell him I’m not really sure if I want to be with that guy but it also gets my point across.”
Without thought, Sebek snatched the letter from your hands and dumped it in the trash can right next to him. “H-hey! Wha-!” And with really no rational thoughts going through him he exclaimed and cut you off, “Tell him you love me because I love you!”
He was furious about it. Unreasonably, yes, but to him it was. How did he accurately feel… what’s that word…? Ah yes.
He was definitely jealous.
A pink hue slowly bloomed to your cheeks, and upon realising what he shouted a red blush soon crept up his cheeks, too.
“H-human, I didn’t-”
“Did you meant it?” You asked as you bit your lip. The way you looked at him… in his head he felt as if you wanted him to say “yes”.
And he hopes he isn’t wrong.
Reblogs help! ^^
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cutielando · 6 months
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out of line ~ rafe cameron
my masterlist
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Ever since you could remember, Ward had always been hard on Rafe. It might have been because he was his only son, it might be because he wanted him to mature early on, or it might be just because he hated his son.
At least that's what Rafe had come to believe.
Nothing he did ever seemed to be right. His father would always find faults in every single thing Rafe did, crushing the boy's morale every single time.
"I don't know how to please him anymore" he would always say when he came to you, all sad and unmotivated to even live.
You hated seeing your boyfriend like that. You hated the way Ward acted towards his son. You hated the fact that he always made Rafe feel bad about your relationship, always filling his head with thoughts that he didn't deserve you, that he should do you a favor and let you go because you would be better off without you.
It made your blood boil.
As you were laying on the couch in Rafe's home, his body laying on top of yours and your arms wrapped around his body, you were hoping to God that his father would not ruin your night.
"Rafe?" hearing Ward's voice made the both of you tense.
Rafe got up from laying on you and sat upright on the couch just as Ward walked in.
Eyeing you, you could see him clench his jaw and swallow harshly.
"Yes, dad?" Rafe said, clearing his throat and looking up at his father.
"What are you doing?" he asked, looking between the both of you.
The atmosphere in the room was tense, and you knew that Rafe was desperately weighing his answers to make sure he wouldn't say the wrong thing.
That is precisely why you decided to be the one doing the talking tonight, hopeful to finally give the older man a piece of your mind.
"We were watching a movie before you interrupted us" hearing you speak made Rafe's heart start beating rapidly.
He wiped his head around to look at you with wide eyes, but you kept eye contact with the older Cameron man.
"Excuse me?" his voice was dangerously low, but you weren't afraid of him and had no intention of backing down.
"You heard me. Do you want something with Rafe or not?" you asked, now standing up and stopping while face-to-face with him.
"You better watch your mouth, young lady" his threats fell on deaf ears, you were done cowering in fear of him.
Your family was the second richest one on the whole island, so you were also entitled to speak your mind seeing as you weren't a poor little Pogue afraid to speak in front of a Kook.
"That's funny, coming from the guy whose ego is so big he has to belittle his own son to feel better about himself" that struck a nerve.
Ward took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. His fists were pulsing, his veins were enlarged, he was on the verge of exploding.
But he knew better than that, he knew better than to make an enemy of your father. While Ward must think he's got the dangerous associates on the island, your father was by far more versed than him in that department. 
Your family might not have been the richest, but it was for sure the most dangerous one. And Ward knew that.
"How dare you?" 
"How dare I? How dare you look at your son, your own flesh and blood, and belittle him like he's a stranger to you? How can you stand there and insult him, make him feel worthless after how much he does to impress you, to satisfy you? And nothing ever seems enough. How dare you fill his head with lies about our relationship when you and I both know I am the only person who loves him and takes care of him. I am the only one who wants the best for him, not even you as his father? What the fuck is wrong with you?" you felt so good getting everything off of your chest.
Rafe was still speechless, still sitting behind you on the couch.
He was grateful for every word you had said, having conveyed everything he had been feeling but was too afraid to tell his father.
"You are way out of line here, bitch" he spit with venom in his voice.
Your eyes darkened and you stepped even closer to him, being almost face to face with him.
"Call me a bitch again and see what happens. We don't want to repeat what happened at Midsummers, now, do we? Or did you forget what my daddy did?" your voice now being dangerously low, knowing you had struck another nerve.
Ward visibly tensed, having remembered that your father had almost killed him in a fight when he insulted you at Midsummers while being intoxicated.
He cleared his throat and nodded, taking one last look at Rafe before turning around and leaving the house.
"Thank you" Rafe's small voice said as you next back next to him on the couch, unpausing the movie you had been watching.
"Never thank me for that. I want you to feel safe, and I was just telling the truth. You know my father has your back, he loves you and he would do anything for you" you told Rafe, who nodded.
Your father and him have had a very close and special relationship ever since you started dating almost 3 years prior. 
Due to the fact that you were an only child and your father had always wanted a son too, he treated Rafe like he was his own. He knew about his situation with Ward and always made sure he was being taken care of.
You sometimes thought your father liked your boyfriend more than you.
"I know, but still. Thank you for everything, you don't know how much I love you, baby" he leaned his body back on top of you, savoring your warmth and delicate touch.
"I love you too, so much"
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vulpisnocturna · 5 months
Note
Hey there! Glad to see you're back! ♥ Since you say you want headcanon requests... How would all our Uchiha's (mostly Itachi because I'm such a simp for him, but also Shisui, Sasuke, Madara, Obito and Indra and maybe Indra respond if their lover was confirmed to have been captured by enemy forces on a mission or during a war? And how would they respond if/when their lover was recovered alive but showing severe physical and mental damage from the torture they'd endured?
Hey my lovely, happy to be back 🤍
Uchiha reactions to a captured/PTSD suffering S/O
Itachi:
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- would absolutely infiltrate enemy lines and retrieve their S/O, without sparing torture on the enemies. This man would torture them tenfold for every injury his S/O was subjected to. He would break their minds with Tsukuyomi and leave no survivors
- would be gentle and patient with his S/O, and it would break his heart to see them so broken after what happened to them. As a pacifist and someone who has a deep hatred for conflict and war, he would be furious and mournful that his SO has to live with the scars of the cruelty of the world
- He would definitely be the type to soothe his SO after nightmares, go for a walk in the moonlight with them to release pent-up stress, and generally be more protective of them. He would inform himself on how to best deal with panic attacks and try to therapise his S/O
- Itachi’s advice and “words of wisdom” may be of comfort but they may also fall flat because he tends to speak from a place of rationality more than emotion, and as a walking embodiment of PTSD, he’s one to talk. But hey, he is quite wise, and he means well.
Obito:
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- Would literally go absolutely batshit crazy if his S/O was kidnapped and held hostage by the enemy. Cue the Rin flashbacks. Would destroy the world, burn it to ashes, go to Hell and back and make it rain blood. …Literally. He would be on his most unhinged, insane behaviour
- his SO should expect to never leave his side after that. He will be overprotective, like they are an infant who is at risk of dying with every breath
- would have nightmares about what happened and it would enrage him and break his heart to see his S/O broken by what they endured.
- wouldn’t know what to say or do to console them, except promise to always protect them and never let it happen again
Madara:
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- you don’t fuck with Madara’s S/O. If you do, there is an incoming cataclysm your way. He would destroy their lineage for daring to hurting his loved ones. Would definitely worsen the war in an attempt to get revenge
- would be helpless in the face of dealing with PTSD. Madara is a strong person, who grew up not really learning how to express his feelings, and therefore, he doesn’t know how to deal with them
- would be the type to stand a few feet from them, stiff and awkward and boiling with fury and sorrow inside at the sight of their S/O hurting, but somehow, he can’t come up with anything worthwhile to say. Will probably say something like “it’s over now. It won’t happen again” and that’s it
Indra:
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- oh boy, you messed up. His S/O is like his most prized possession to him, and no one can take that from him and break one of his things. Takes it more as a personal insult rather than anything else. Will kill everyone who disrespected him like that
- will probably be saddened but also frustrated by his S/O’s inability to get over what happened
- “it’s over now. No point crying about it”. He doesn’t mean to be cruel, but it’s just a matter of stating facts to him.
- what, his S/O doesn’t trust him to keep them safe or something? Do they doubt his strength?
Shisui:
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- would definitely activate the other side of Shisui. Would efficiently and ruthlessly kill everyone who sought to hurt the person he loves. He would be there in a second
- the safety and comfort of his S/O after such a horrible ordeal would be his priority. A bit like Itachi, he would always be there to offer comfort, a shoulder to cry on or a distraction in difficult times to follow
- However, unlike Itachi’s therapy sessions, he is more the type to try to lighten the mood and lift his S/O’s spirits. He would make it his mission to make them laugh and keep them happy, sometimes to the point of stifling them and making them feel a little alienated
- if he’s asked to have a serious conversation about what happened, however, he is very serious about it, and very protective and comforting
Sasuke:
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- cue a revenge plan. He is not joking around. This man has lost every single person he loved, and if his S/O is abducted and tortured, he is there in the span of 0.1 second raining hellfire on the people who dared hurt a person he loves
- This man is like a big ball of PTSD, and not the best at comforting and offering advice on how to heal. It’s taken him years, a self-discovery journey, an obsessive friend beating him up and exploding his arm to heal. Expect him to be there like a silent presence hovering around his S/O like a cat sensing something is wrong with their favourite person but not knowing what to do about it
- would wake them up from nightmares and sit with them in silence to calmly listen to them vent and cry. Sasuke is a very emotional person underneath, but he thinks he needs to be strong for his loved one, to be a safe haven but mostly an anchor to rely on
- would be terrified himself of losing his S/O again, and therefore be quite overprotective (he stalks his S/O secretly wherever they go)
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woodland-gremlin · 1 month
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How to Adopt Your Clone Pt. 2
Note: I am not very good at writing character interactions, so any advice or constructive criticism is welcome.
And as if to prove her point that they deserve the name League of Idiots, the Boy Scout himself is attacking her in the sky above Metropolis. He may also be attacking Money Bags too, but how dare he put her on the same level as that Stalker!
“Oi, watch it Captain Underpants!” Ellie bites out as she rolls into a cloud, dodging a beam from each of her attackers.
“Stop your attack and I will as well,” Superass says while he continues his attack.
“Oh, Danielle,” an Insult to Scrooge said loftily, “You can’t even deal with this mortal on your own. Daniel would have had him defeated by now.”
Ellie’s eye twitched, while dodging another beam which created a hole in the cloud she was in. “If it’s so easy then why are me and Boy Scout still standing, huh?” she spits out.
The off-brand Cereal grinned before yanking her hair and whispering in ghost speak,”Why would I do that when I can let both of you finish eachother off before taking out the poor, weakened winner? And it’s ‘Superman and I,’ dear.”
“Bastard.”
“It’s called strategy, my girl.”
Before Ellie could use her fists to show the Fruitloop just what she thought of his so-called “strategy” and claim, Super Idiot grabbed her wrist.
“You and your father will cease your attack and take spat elsewhere. It is endangering the people of this planet.”
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secretagentsociety · 1 year
Text
loves makes people crazy
yandere dragon X madly in love reader
Here's another idea,a yandere dragon like all powerful and scary the villager is scared of him,the king is scared of him,the Wizards and pretty much everyone and their grandmother is scared of him but then there's you,you different breed of a human decides to see him for the first time and say "yes that's my hubby" and the rest is history
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• people often called you crazy, dilusional and others not so nice insults for being still not being married despite hitting the big 2 0 that and also rejecting the local lords and basically anyone who tries to court you
• now just because people say it doesn't mean you HAVE to follow it yk?oh but you did you played their little fantasy of you being crazy so perfectly people were honestly scared for your mental well being,why?you may ask
• well it's because when khum first arrived at the village (I say first but it's really his 100th time terrorising the village) you decide to whisper something that some people might have heard "he's perfect" you said eyes filled with hearts watching him scaring the sht out of the locals
• honestly you're staring so much he could feel you boring holes into his head,curious he looked around for whoever it is that dared to stare at him for so long and BAM! He saw you,at first he thought you're staring at him in contempt or anger maybe both but then you sigh lovingly and waved at him a fools smile placed upon your face
• he had to look around and points at himself just to made sure he even mouthed "m-me? you're talking to me?!" But you blowing him a kiss and winking made it pretty clear it was him,well let's say after that he couldn't help but think about you "what an odd human" he thought
• "oh my god haven't you heard?! The dragons visit has been so frequent lately our village can't keep affording the rebuilding cost!" One of the villagers said,you aren't paying attention but just hearing him coming back more and more made your heart flutter "I know it's a blessing" you sighed melting into the seat as you remembered the first time he talks to you
•well it happened,khum stood Infront of you folding his hand,what is his plans anyway?kidnapping a human all of a sudden,a weird one at that,"human,do you have a name?" He said
• "you can call me yours,and I'll call you mine" you said "how about the name....treasure?no too basic maybe clove?nah um.....oh darling?" he said tilting his head,khum never thought one day he'd witness a human visibly explode and faint but here we was
• it was a rocky start to the relationship,well...rocky as in everything was so perfect it's scary, here's the recap,on day five of your kidnappings you've opened up to how the villagers had been treating you(not that it's hard to make you open up,all he had to do was give you food and call you pet names while stroking your head and bam! you're dumping your entire trauma onto him) and oh boy was he not happy
• now despite everything he's still a classy dragon,he ofcourse had hoarse of treasure but he also had a pretty nice castle he may or may not seize from a royal you don't have to know that tho so moving on,and with a huge castle come servants and with those come soldiers who needs to maintain security,not that he needs any but you know he likes to have thing's completed and that including the castles needs
• now when his subordinates first saw you absolutely gushing on how cute he was they were absolutely shocked,because one he literally look like a demon ripping out people's heart and two this isn't some flower field it's a grusome battle scene yet you couldn't help but blush when his shirt got torn off,you even closed your eyes to savor the moment after a while
• khum really can't understand your fixation on him,is it like his love for you?but even then he acknowledges your weird behaviour but you literally looked at him as if he was a god,not that he minds,he gotta admit that day he kinda wore a shirt that's a couple of size down so when he does some movements that needs intents flexibility his shirt would rip off in some cool cinematic style,it worked,it worked too well
• so apparently his stamina had their limits he'd come to know it last Night after the battle,oh but the details won't be necessary,oh but don't be fooled if he were to actually try you'd be the one to pass out
• now is he dilusional?nope he knows full well that it's not healthy but does he care?nope he's a powerful dragon,are you dilusional?maybe?...idk...probably....yes?.... Well he is cute so I'll give you that
• he is possesive, but it's really hard to show possesive when the person he loved won't look at other people,you will talk to people normally but once he entered your line of sight the other people can forget ever having a conversation with you
• now for the big question does this technically make you a yandere? maybe..yes.
•i feel the need to say he is 100% taller than you, I'm sorry but it's just the rules 乁⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠_⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠ㄏ
• yes he has two pp lets move on now
• he had a way of marking you so other beasts knows to back the fuck off it's called biting,the first night you ever discover the chamber of secrets together(wink wink nudge nudge)he bit down on your neck,it leaves a pretty little flower mark that's imbued with his power it's very very very tiny teeny I cannot stress enough how tiny it is so it's safe
• now if you EVER even say someone else is cute then oh boi oh my,now I have established that he is jealous have I?,no?well too bad because he is,and his jealousy doesn't play nice,he will rip out the heart and torture the person over and over and over each time reviving them again and again and put a curse of Resurrection on them only to leave them in a forest of ravaging beasts that has lost their minds to be feasted upon and tortured until he sees them having suffered enough. ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ Moral of the story? don't just don't say anyone is cute (yes not even babies) (he won't like k.o them but he will like curse them or sum sht )
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on that note good night people
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lauraneedstochill · 1 year
Text
The object of my desires
summary: You overhear Aemond making a snarky remark about the way you dress. You decide to teach him a lesson.
warnings: friends to lovers (both are idiots), a dash of angst, Aegon gets punched (but he redeems himself), a lot of teasing, things get very heated (NSFW: it is smut but not very detailed so don't get your hopes up), with a sprinkle of softness
words: ~6500 (it was supposed to be shorter but they started making out...)
author's note: the idea first popped into my head months ago when I saw this post. also, for the longest time I've been thinking that “you are the bane of my existence” monologue is a perfect fit for Aemond — and yet I haven't seen a single fic * using that quote?! so I finally decided to give it a try.
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If anyone asked you to describe your relationship with Aemond, you would’ve said that the two of you were almost friendly. The almost part was the trickiest one to explain because, even though both of you acted very content with the way of things, you still couldn’t help but think that you wanted something more, no matter how much you’ve tried to deny it.
You got to know him through Helaena who you befriended when you were ten and six. A year older than you, she was the weird girl no one wanted to talk to and you approached her out of curiosity but soon learned that she had a cheerful nature and quite a nimble mind. She loved your sharp sense of humor and energetic wit and the two of you became close, your contrasting personalities complimenting each other very well.
Your introduction to her brothers was brief and for a couple of months, you didn’t interact with either of them. She’s been married to Aegon for four years back then and even though he immediately didn’t strike you as a faithful husband — always a cup away from being wasted and shamelessly gazing at every maid’s legs — he mostly looked harmless. Aemond, however, was the exact opposite — guarded and collected, he kept his distance from everyone, making it clear that it was his choice. You could only get a good look at the prince when you were passing the training yard, and a couple of times you found your gaze lingering on him — on the lean body and tense muscles, on the way he moved the sword with ease. In those moments you felt the danger radiating off him, yet it never scared you away. But you knew better than to fawn over the prince who seemingly paid you no mind.
A significant change came on the evening of Aegon’s ten and ninth birthday which Helaena begged you to come to — you weren’t fond of big events but couldn’t say no to her. For the most part, the feast was tolerable as you’ve spent it by her side, making glib remarks about the guests, much to your friend’s amusement. But when the celebration died down and all the nobles began to disperse, Aegon, drunk out of his mind, decided to make advances toward his wife whom he ignored for the duration of the evening. His approach was harsh and unexpected, and the look on Helaena’s face shuttered your heart. 
“Your grace, your manners escape you,” you tried warning him, shielding your friend but Aegon was too wasted to notice your fiery gaze. In his inebriated state, he probably mistook you for a maid as he grabbed your arm in an effort to shove you aside. Next thing you know, your fist connected with his nose — and then Aegon was lying on the floor, eyes wide and blood gushing down his face as you stood next to him, fuming. Before he could think of an answer, Aemond appeared out of nowhere — just in time to drag his brother away, while the drunkard was hurling insults at you in a frenzy. Only when they left, it dawned on you what you just did. 
You expected for the king’s guard to come for your head in the morrow, but instead, a few surprising things happened. First, you learned that the boys didn’t rat you out, making it look like they were the ones who got into a fight. Aegon did apologize to Helaena and from that day, his temper softened as he never dared to repeat his mistake. But, most importantly, Aemond took a sudden interest in you.
Overall, his behavior stayed the same, but you regularly caught him looking in your direction, and every time you saw each other, he made sure to acknowledge your presence. He never initiated the conversation first, only sometimes curtly voicing his opinion, yet you noticed him paying attention to your chattering with Helaena — and you could swear that a few times he suppressed a laugh at your jokes.
The mystery veil that the prince was surrounded with sparked your curiosity, and you wanted to crack down his guard, to get a chance to know him. The opportunity presented itself one day when Helaena and you came to watch Aemond train. You saw him and Criston arguing as the prince was late to his studies but Cole refused to let Aemond leave until he wins the last bout. Whether he wasn’t in the right mood or had something distracting him, Aemond kept losing, and his teacher only pushed him further, relentless in his attempts.
“Ser Criston, you’re putting yourself in harm's way,” you chimed in, making the man turn to you with a chuckle, while Aemond gave you a tired look.
“May it be that the finest swordsman of the realm is simply avoiding his responsibilities?” you suggested with a light grin.
“Mayhaps he is in need of some encouragement, lady Y/N,” Cole teased. 
“Well, I would've volunteered to share the burden of learning with him,” you remark. “If only he could win this one bout,” you added, keeping eye contact with the prince.
It took Aemond about two minutes to knock his opponent to the ground which made Helaena gasp in surprise while you were trying to hide a smile. Without a word, Aemond came to you, and the two of you went to the library. On your way there, he kept silent, but you were not intimidated at all. When you walked into the room, Aemond hesitated as if giving you a chance to change your mind. But you boldly turned to him:
“If you mean to scare me with the prospect of studying, I should warn you that I've read more books than you can count,” you informed the prince.
It was the first time when you saw him smiling — widely and shamelessly, looking very smug.
“You are full of surprises, my lady,” he grinned. “Do you mean to challenge me?”
It turned out that Aemond liked challenges, and you enjoyed being one. Since that day, you got into the habit of joining him in the library and the prince would accompany you in his free time more often than not. You would dare him to read faster, to fight harder, to engage in conversations — or sometimes to simply have fun. Whenever you had a reason to disagree with him, he was always respectful and found himself entertained by your way of thinking, which made your discussions and even arguments span for hours.
As years went by, you kept playfully bantering back and forth, and Helaena told you that you were the only one allowed to act like that around her brother. You couldn’t understand what his motives were but it was hard to deny that his company was pleasant. Aemond grew up into quite an eligible bachelor and his attention did flatter you, even though he never crossed the line. Sometimes you even dared to entertain the thought that maybe — just maybe — Aemond had a soft spot for you.
Until one day things took a turn.
Helaena’s twentieth birthday was meant to be just another celebration that you would’ve skipped if it wasn’t for her. The only way for you to pass the time was dancing which you’ve actually come to love in recent years, enjoying the rhythm of the music that helped to lighten your mood. Your dear friend mostly preferred to sit back so you were often compelled to find yourself a company that would be bearable, at the very least.
That evening, you got acquainted with Jacaerys Velaryon, the boy being younger than you but a foot taller. He approached you with a small smile on the pretext of knowing Helaena, and you soon learned that he was a good dancer. But the best thing about Jace was that he spend most of his time talking about his betrothed, Baela, who he was absolutely smitten with. The girl sadly couldn’t be present as she had to stay with her dad, who recently sailed home, and the dark-haired boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. All the time while dancing he was either gushing about her or asking your advice, which you found adorable and gladly chatted with him.
Throughout the feast, you felt Aemond looking at you, probably more than usual. You knew that he wasn't fond of dancing and even though his gaze on you felt rather good, deep down you wished that he was the one you were spending time with. After a couple of hours, however, you saw his usual spot empty, and the prince was nowhere to be found. For some reason, you got a very bad feeling and, after leaving Jace to take a break, you went to Helaena. She informed you that Aemond left not so long ago, adding that it looked like her brother was upset about something.
That's how you ended up roaming through the castle halls, giving in to the unsettling feeling churning in your stomach. Passing by one of the chambers, you suddenly hear voices and realize that it's Aemond talking to his brother. You don’t mean to eavesdrop and were about to turn around — but then Aegon mentions your name.
“You are foolish to wait for so long. You could’ve at least asked Y/N for a dance,” his remark is followed by gulping sounds. Is he ever without a cup? You hold back a giggle — which quickly disappears when you hear Aemond’s answer:
“I prefer not to waste my time on such futile activities,” and his voice is unexpectedly grim.
“You may want to reconsider when the lady has every man’s attention. Even the Velaryon boy was pretty much drooling,” he chuckles, and his words make your brows furrow as you are certain he has no ground to suggest that. You’re a moment away from drowning in doubts, but the younger prince brings you back to reality. 
“I suppose it's hard not to, with the way she's been dressing lately,” Aemond deadpans.
He says it with a flat tone — yet it feels like a punch that knocks all of the air out of your lungs. There's a brief pause — and Aegon sounds almost sober when he asks, with a hint of surprise in his voice:
“And what about her dresses?”
“I found them to be... rather bawdy. Although I’m not impressed in the slightest,” Aemond forces out.
Your heart sinks at his words, cheeks heating up. You wait for him to say anything else, to give an explanation, at least one reason for his accusations but there is none. Aegon laughs — and you feel sick to your stomach, realizing that you cannot bear listening to their conversation any longer.
You walk away as quietly as possible, with cotton feet and your hands shaking. You rush past the hall and out of the castle, tears pricking in your eyes. Only once you're all alone, embraced by the silence of the night, you take a deep breath of air. Aemond’s words are ringing in your ears, loud and clear. You look down at your dress in disbelief: the neckline is basically non-existent, your arms are fully covered, and it barely shows any skin at all. And yet he thinks this is inappropriate? 
Your cheeks are wet and burning yet you feel anger bubbling in your chest. You never thought Aemond could be cruel — and yet it’s him, out of all people, who let those vile words slip out of his mouth like they meant nothing. Like you meant nothing to him. For years, you heard people calling him cold-hearted and arrogant but you were naive to believe that the prince made an exception for you. Out of all the mistakes you’ve made so far, this one might’ve been the most painful one.
Your outrage spreads like a wildfire as you think back to every interaction you’ve had with Aemond, his every glance and every word that fooled you into thinking that he cared. Was he secretly criticizing you the whole time? How many other jokes did he make behind your back? Who even gave him the right to judge whether your dresses are acceptable or not? As if he is any different from all the other men whose brains turn into mush when they get a glimpse of a female body.
You stop dead in your tracks when an idea suddenly forms in your head. It’s very uncharacteristic of you — at first, you hesitantly brush it off, thinking that it’s not wise to make any emotional decisions. And yet the idea keeps nagging at you for the remainder of the night and for a few hours you ponder if you should take such a brazen approach. But then his unkind remark pops back in your memory — over and over and over.
By the time the morning comes, you make up your mind.
He says he isn’t impressed in the slightest? There is only one way to find out for sure.
On the very next day, you take Helaena for a walk in the garden, well aware that her brothers will accompany you as Aegon doesn’t have anything else to do and Aemond prefers to take a stroll after his training. Your dress is close-fitted yet modest, not an inch shorter than necessary. It is not about the dress but what’s underneath it — and the object in question clinks lightly with your every step. You show it to Helaena right away and she finds it delightful, the jingling only making her smile. Then her siblings come to join you, you curtsy but barely spare Aemond a glance. You don’t ask a single question about his day, instead taking interest in Aegon. The older prince gives you a suspicious side-eye but welcomes the chatting. It doesn’t take long before he notices the sound, too.
“Am I the only one who can hear the clinking? I am almost certain that it’s not just in my head,” he debates.
“Oh, it’s Y/N’s doing,” Helaena beams unsuspectingly.
“Apologies, my prince, it’s my aunt’s gift that caught your ear,” you slow down and take a few seconds to make sure you’ve got everyone’s attention.
And then, with one gentle motion, you pull up your dress — ever so slightly, just enough to show your ankle and the thin bracelet wrapped around it. The jewelry is made out of gold and it instantly catches the sunlight, casting warm sparkles on your skin. It’s decorated with tiny coins which make a jingling sound as you slowly turn your leg from side to side.
“I thought it was rather pretty. Don’t you think?” you only look at Aegon.
“Umm yes,” he gulps. “Rather pretty it is,” the prince mumbles, and then his gaze shifts to someone else. You don’t need to turn your head to know who he’s looking at. Instead, you continue with your walk without a care in the world.
“I should ask my aunt to bring you a similar one, my dear,” you suggest to Helaena and she eagerly agrees.
You have a few other gifts for Aemond, too.
Next time you opt for a different bracelet — with no coins and no jingling, a simple golden chain. But your dress is a tad bit shorter and the jewelry catches everyone’s eye with ease as it looks like a ray of light curled around your ankle. You deliberately walk through the training yard, arm-in-arm with Helaena. You give Ser Christon the brightest smile, and he politely nods in your direction.
“Good morrow, ladies.”
“How's your training coming along, Ser Criston?” you ask, and it feels strange to talk to him instead of Aemond. You bitterly remind yourself that you apparently overstated the value of those conversations.
“I'm afraid, we are hardly progressing. Mayhaps you will keep us company? I fear, we are in need of some cheerful words,” Cole shoots a glance at the prince who stands by, his eye fixed on you.
“Aren’t we all, Ser Criston,” you tilt your head at him. “But it seems like my pursuit of lessening your burden did nothing good,” and before he can ask anything else, you walk away, ignoring Aemond completely.
Helaena senses that something is off, giving you a worried look:
“Is there anything troubling you, Y/N?”
“Not when I'm with you, my friend,” you reassure her and force your smile to look as believable as possible.
Partially, it is true as her company always brings you joy and you don’t want to sour her mood by recalling Aemond's words that wounded your pride. You refuse to admit that he also grazed your heart.
In a week, you accept Helaena’s invitation to join them for breakfast and you decide to up your game. It's the perfect time of year for sleeveless dresses but the one you pick also has a daring addition: two thin cuts under your armpits. They are barely visible but when you put your arms up, it's easy to distinguish the contour of your ribcage and the softness of your skin peeking through.
You sit by Helaena's side, easily keeping up with the conversation and not glancing at Aemond once. After the food is taken away and everyone starts wandering around the room, you get up to fix your hair, standing not too far away from the dining table as you raise your hands and run your fingers into your hairdo.
“May I offer assistance?” Aegon leans on the wall next to you, his mouth curling into a smile.
You roll your eyes and are about to shush him when he quietly adds:
“I know what you are doing,” you turn your gaze to him, and he winks at you. “From the look on my brother’s face, I can tell you that it’s working.”
You fight the urge to look at Aemond.
“I’m afraid I can’t share your concerns,” you are fiddling with hairpins absentmindedly.
Aegon shoots a glance over your shoulder and then back at you:
“He seems pretty bothered to me. Also pissed, but that may be my doing.”
“Look at you, my little helper,” you ramble as the cool air sneaks into the cuts of your dress, and you slightly quaver.
“Well, if you are ever in need of a helping hand...”
“I will not hesitate to stick this pin into your eye,” you cut him off.
“No need!” Aegon throws up his hands, cackling. “I'd like to keep them both. So I can have a better look at my brother’s reaction when you do... whatever you plan on doing,” the shit-eating grin on his face tells you that he is enjoying this.
But when you turn around and suddenly make eye contact with Aemond, your own enjoyment fades. You notice his frown and the probability of you being the reason for it doesn’t bring any satisfaction. You let Helaena lead you away, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk out.
You do not yield to your emotions, continuing with your plan, as days turn into weeks, and then a month goes by without you as much as sharing a word with Aemond. Truth be told, you want nothing more than to stay away from him at all costs but you will not give him the satisfaction. He said he didn’t like the way you dress — and you make sure he sees every single dress you are in. You stay within the bounds of decency as you definitely have no intention to disgrace yourself, and none of your dresses are borderline scandalous, contrary to what any prince may think. You deign to let him see the curve of your neck with your hair up high, the bending of your shoulders and the sunkissed skin of your arms, the arc of your knees and mere glimpses of the upper part of your legs. You leave the rest to his imagination — granted, he has a good one considering how much time he spends reading.
During the second month, his patience starts running out.
In the years you've known Helaena, you learned all the ins and outs of the castle, so you manage to avoid Aemond at first, vanishing from his sight when needed. But, as time passes, you notice that he is tempted to talk to you, and escaping that possibility becomes harder with each day. One morning, when you walk into the yard, Aemond abruptly stops his training upon seeing you, and the two of you just stare at each other for a second, both startled and holding your breath. You are saved by Ser Criston, who calls for the prince, distracting him, giving you a chance to leave, and you all but run away.
After that day, you temporarily cease your visits to the castle, deciding to take a break and make up weak excuses to Helaena. Only now that you were apart, you realize how much you miss Aemond’s physical presence. His sudden, fleeting touches — to help you out of a carriage or to steady you after a fit of laughter, your hands brushing when you share books, his fingers sometimes lightly grazing your waist for the reason you are yet to know. You haven't talked to him for days, let alone felt him in your close proximity, and yet he's constantly on your mind. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you wake up at night realizing you yearn for him terribly. You wish you could go back to that damn evening of the feast, to confront him right away, to maybe get some clarification. But now too much time has passed and you’re too wrapped up in... whatever you plan on doing, so your ego insists that giving up isn’t an option.
When you receive the invitation for Aegon’s name day, you are ready to decline, but then begrudgingly decide to give it one last chance. You practice the look of indifference, the nonchalant tone, the proud gait, and you pull out your best dress. It’s green and the color is so bright, it dazzles the eyes, the material light and flowing — and yet, when you put it on, it feels incomplete. As you look in the mirror, the vivid tone of the fabric suddenly reminds you of something else. It’s a secret you once heard, a hushed conversation between the maids, one of which walked in on the prince when he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You only ponder for a minute and then reach for the jewelry piece that definitely will be hard not to notice.
The castle is crowded, and you are one of the last guests to arrive. Bracing yourself, you pause at the door for a second. Ser Harrold, who stands there, lets out a surprised hum.
“Should I take that as a sign of your disapproval?” you jest, watching his reaction.
“I wouldn’t dare to judge,'” he gives you a polite smile. “But I'm afraid all the men present are at risk of losing reason.”
His comment makes you chuckle and you step a bit closer, letting him take a better look:
“I thought it would match the occasion. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Ser Harrold, gods bless him, keeps his eyes on your face:
“As always, it is, lady Y/N.”
It gives you enough confidence to walk in, appearing in all your glory.
The dress is a perfect fit, with a slit down your right side and an open back. The front neckline isn't deep but in the middle of it there's a thin silver chain with a big, glittering sapphire — and the gem lays perfectly between your breasts. It’s only natural that everyone’s gaze is immediately drawn to the blue spark, all the men in the room gazing at it, voluntarily and not. But the effect their attention has is nothing compared to the wave of heat that warms your body when you feel a very particular gaze finally landing on you. You look right at him — and you catch him gawking, his lips slightly parted as he stares at the sapphire, too, almost in a trance. His hand is gripping a cup of wine with such force, you can see the whitening of his knuckles. When Aemond sharply glances up, your eyes lock for a second, and you look away first. So much for him not being impressed.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jace waving at you to come sit with him, and you do not hesitate, letting the one-eyed prince out of sight.
You feel like his eye doesn't leave you for a second.
You are barely able to sit still while dining and let out a sigh of relief when it's time for dancing. You rush away from the table, thinking it will provide you with a distraction, and you will be glad for any partner if only he can move his legs and keep his mouth shut. You go to the end of the line, lost in your thoughts, and when you finally come to a stop and look to the other side — you see Aemond standing in front of you.
The tall prince with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing all black, stares at you in a way that makes the crowd around you disappear.
When the dance starts, you step toward each other, and he speaks up first. 
“I couldn't help but notice your absence, lady Y/N. I find myself wondering what is the reason behind it,” his hand briefly touches yours, your bodies following the music.
“Your question is confusing, my prince. As I was merely doing you a favor,” you swap partners but Aemond only looks at you.
“Your leaving hardly favors me,” the prince says when you’re in his arms again. You feel a flicker of anger rising inside but keep your voice down.
“I was actually counting on you being relieved,” you snort, not looking at him. “Since, as it turned out, you were so displeased with my bawdy dresses,” with these words, you step away from him once more.
A minute later you come back to his side but don’t let him say a thing. 
“I've always thought bawdy was just another word for a whore. So I suppose I should be glad that you at least had some decency to not stoop so low,” when your eyes meet, you think you've never seen him so hurt.
Before he can come up with an answer, you are out of his reach. Then you circle back to Aemond again, and this time your tone comes out hasher.
“I also wonder if you would be so brave to say all that to my face. But it seems that your bravery falters when confronted with the need to speak plainly.”
The rhythm of the music works in your favor, because whenever Aemond tries opening his mouth, you’re swooped away from him, and it gives you time to tighten your self-control. You think you should resent him for his silly words, for his heavy gaze, for him knowing how to dance even though he never once did that with you in all these years.
But you have no resentment for him. All of a sudden you realize what you are actually feeling.
And then the dance comes to an end.
You only curtsy out of politeness, averting your gaze:
“I will not vex you anymore, my prince.”
“Y/N, wait, I should —,” he tries to take your hand but you swerve away from him.
“I already promised the next dance to someone else,” you lie. “You are finally free of my company.”
At that very second, when you glance at him before leaving, he looks absolutely heartbroken. Or maybe you just imagined it in an attempt to ease your own pain.
Your feet carry you to the library on their own accord, and you’re too distraught to notice until you are already inside, in the dusty silence of the endless shelves. You take a hold of the nearest one, trying to catch your breath. You barely get a minute of solitude before you hear footsteps approaching. And it’s kind of pathetic how easy it is for you to guess who it is.
“Your tendency to run away from me is quite unnerving,” Aemond walks in with rapid strides, his voice laced with emotion you can’t read. 
His words, however, trigger your reaction in no time. 
“Maybe it is because I do not want to be in the company of someone who hurt me,” you turn to him, and he’s already only a couple of meters away. The dim lighting illuminates his silver hair, the outline of his broad shoulders, his eye is boring into you. He looks so beautiful in his frustration, your chest tightens at the sight.
“I would've apologized right away if only you let me speak,” the prince retorts.
“Did something hold you back from apologizing sooner? Or were you too preoccupied with being outraged by my clothing choices?” your heart skips a bit at the intensity of his stare but you refuse to break the eye contact.
“I never said I was outraged.” 
“You weren't thrilled, either, you made that very clear.”
“You know nothing of my motives because you refuse to listen to me!” he raises his voice and it startles you. But he doesn’t sound angry.
Aemond is standing at arm’s length — and you can clearly see that his face expresses no signs of annoyance or hatred. Instead, he looks at you with longing.
The air in the room feels heavy.
You run your tongue over your lips to moisten them, and Aemond’s eye darts to your mouth.
“We can agree on one thing,” he drawls, his eye locking with yours again as he moves closer. You take a step back — and feel pressed against one of the shelves.
He speaks with his tone low:
“...You vex me to no end.”
With another step, Aemond towers over you, and when you look up, your faces are only inches apart, and his flaming gaze envelops you.
“You are the bane of my existence,” Aemond breathes out. “And the object of all my desires,” his voice breaks, and you feel him inhaling sharply.
His words are akin to a match that lights up a fire deep in you, the muscles of your stomach tightening involuntarily. With one finger he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you can’t help but lean into his touch, your breathing shuddering.
“I’m haunted by your image everywhere I go,” he rasps, his nose brushing yours. “Night and day, I dream of you,” his index finger moves under your chin, close to the pulsating point on your neck. You feel the heat spilling into the pit of your belly, and you want nothing more than for Aemond to kiss you.
“I was raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread every minute I spend in your presence,” he whispers vehemently, his words hot against your mouth. 
You are dizzy, breathless — and craving him. Everything else is forgotten, erased, nonexistent. It’s just you two.
“You are all I can think about,” you confess with a strangled voice, looking at Aemond through your lashes — and it sets him off.
His lips capture yours in an instant, claiming and burning with need. He pulls you closer, his hands on your back, and yours go up his shoulders to lock behind his neck. Aemond kisses you deeply, hungrily, sweeping his tongue over your lower lip and then sliding it in, intertwining with yours. One of his palms moves lower, outlining the curve of your hip, glides over your leg — and into the slit of your dress. He grabs your thigh, his thumb landing on the inner side of it, and he starts slowly massaging small circles on it. Him touching your bare skin elicits a moan from you and in the heat of the moment, as your mind goes blank and you can only focus on the pleasuring sensation, you spread your legs, and his finger slips higher — to the place where you want him the most.
He breaks the kiss in surprise, and you wait for it to dawn on him. To realize that you are, in fact, completely naked under the dress. You can feel arousal pooling between your legs, your body prickling with anticipation.
“I was under the impression that you owe me an apology,” you unabashedly murmur, looking him straight in the eye. 
You don't know if it's a challenge or a plea — at this point, you do not care. Apparently, neither does Aemond, as he takes no time hoisting your leg up to his waist for better access, firmly holding it in place. Your respite barely lasts a few seconds before you feel his other hand cupping your sex, rubbing his fingers through your folds. You shut your eyes, gasping for air, as he unhurriedly smears your wetness — and then his finger dips into your core, the sensation making you shiver.
“Aemond,” you sign, your body trembling with desire.
Trying to inhale, you get a whiff of aroma, a mix of leather and salty ocean breeze — and all at once, you are surrounded by him. His scent, his warmth, his scorching touches, the taste that's left on your lips. He leaks into your every cell.
Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses there, his finger picking up the pace.
“I've missed you,” he avows. “So fucking much,” he lightly nibbles the skin above your collarbone. “Missed hearing you say my name. Say it again.”
He doesn't need to ask twice — and the interweaving of letters rolls off your tongue with each breath:
“Aemond”
“Aemond”
“Aemond.”
His name fills your mouth, leaving no space for air, your throat tight and breathing rapid. Aemond’s lips move down to your shoulder.
“Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he haltingly rambles, and the implication makes you clench around him, dragging a low groan from the prince.
He leaves a trail of kisses following the silver chain down to your breasts. The gem feels cold in contrast to your skin, and even though your head is clouded with lust, it triggers a memory. You move one of your shaking hands to his face, guiding it up to look at you again.
“I want to see the real thing,” you whisper, gazing at his eyepatch. “Let me. Please, let me.”
His hand between your legs doesn't stop its movement but the one on your thigh trembles. You are too caught up in the moment to think straight, and before he can answer, your fingers roughly remove the leather patch.
The sapphire glows like a beacon, the cold blue of it is dazzling and piercing through your blurred vision. The tones and shadows are interlacing, cyan melting into azure and dark blue, and it’s mesmerizing. Seeing him like this, stripped of his restrain and his disguise, is the most intimate, precious thing in the world.
“Gods, you are divine,” you moan, panting.
You catch a flash of emotion in his eye — before you can take another breath, his lips are on yours again. This kiss is steady and fervent, and while his mouth melts into yours, Aemond adds a second finger. It slides in with ease, and he builds up the speed that makes you swallow air. He’s terrifyingly good with his fingers, with his every move, precise and fast. 
“Aemond,” you whimper in his mouth, but his lips keep chasing yours, and you can only follow, letting him take your breath away again and again. You lose track of time, lose yourself in his arms. His face is always close to yours, he breathes in every moan you make and keeps his gaze on you, watching you squirm, your cheeks flushed and lips quivering.
You helplessly whisper his name, and it comes out as a prayer, the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Aemond gives you a breathless smile:
“You do not need to beg me, ever,” he says in a husky voice. “I will give you anything you want,” with these words, he presses a thumb on your clit, resuming the well-known circling motion, making you choke on air.
It takes merely a few seconds for you to come undone, the wave of pleasure blinding and crushing over you. His lips are at the corner of your mouth, ready to cover it should you make any loud sound, but you drop your head back, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.
His fingers slow the pace until you let out a quiet whine, and he removes them, carefully lowering your leg. You feel fuzzy-headed, trying to catch your breath, a few beads of sweat rolling along your hairline. One of his hands gently falls on your back, rubbing soothing patterns on your skin.
“I truly am sorry, Y/N,” Aemond admits.
You chuckle lightly:
“I think you already made it up to me.”
Despite the hint of humor, there's an anxious feeling stirring in your abdomen, and you are afraid to open your eyes to meet his. You don't know what's to come and you dread the emptiness that will follow if he leaves.
Aemond tenderly cups your face with his hand:
“Mayhaps my intentions were not clear enough. I do plan to properly court you,” your eyes snap open at his words.
There's a brief pause before he adds:
“But I still need to apologize for my behavior because you deserved none of it. I was unfair with my judgment as I let jealousy get the best of me,” he sounds genuinely remorseful.
You glance at him in confusion, the gears turning in your head for a moment, and then you realize:
"You were jealous of Jace?!"
Aemond looks down at the floor, and there's something endearing in his evident embarrassment. With your thumb and index finger you caress the jut of his jaw and make him look at you again:
“Aemond, I can barely consider him a friend. And the boy can only think about Baela, he speaks of her as if she is the light of his life.”
“I know that feeling," Aemond doesn’t hide his smile anymore when he’s with you. He brings your hand to his lips, and the sincerity of his words tugs at your heart. He leaves kisses on your knuckles, and you’re overwhelmed with happiness spreading in your chest.
“Do you get that feeling every time we argue? Or when I challenge you?” you inquire with a giggle.
His laugh vibrates against your skin. When Aemond meets your gaze, there are no doubts and reservations left, no room for denial.
“My biggest challenge was not to fall in love with you. I failed miserably,” he puts both of his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. “But I will humble myself before you because I cannot stand the thought of us being apart ever again,” Aemond presses his forehead against yours.
“I don't plan on it,” you trace his scar with your finger, giving him goosebumps. “But you do know there still will be days when we vex each other to no end?” your voice is barely audible.
He moves his mouth to yours and, before bringing your lips together, he whispers:
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
And neither would you.
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the author doesn’t know how to shut up: — the dress is from “Atonement” (although I imagined her neckline a bit differently) — I haven’t written smut in a very long time so... I hope it was okay? any thoughts and comments will be very appreciated because I’m super nervous about this 🥺 (not gonna lie, this was kinda self-indulgent so I hope that at least some of you will enjoy it, too!)
* I know there is��an amazing fic called “bane of my existence, object of my desire” by @ jasonsmirrorball — I love it to pieces and highly recommend it! 💕 💚 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!
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zablife · 1 year
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This look he has just reeks of touch my wife one more time and I'll raise hell. Or reader is shy (and married to Tommy) and is trying not to be rude + moving to stop the touches on her arm. Tommy sees if they keep doing it before he intervenes
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Tommy watching you do just anything at home
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John pretending to read but watching you tell a someone off. Also him waiting to see if the guy does something
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Sorry 😅idk what to do with myself
Tysm for the ask, darl! I love all of these amazing ideas! Protective Tommy makes me feral and that look in the 2nd GIF is pure sunshine. However, I've written loads of Tommy requests recently so I'll show John some love.
Place Your Bets
"You there!" a mean looking drunk shouted over the din of the betting shop. You didn't bother looking up from your desk as you concentrated on taking a customer's bet over the telephone.
Undeterred, the man slowly clomped toward you, swaying as he walked. He approached wreaking of whisky and body odor and you hung up as quickly as possible to shoo him away. Rising from the desk you motioned to the back of the queue, closer to the doors where the stench would be carried away with the breeze. "You'll have to wait your turn," you informed him tersely.
"I know you," he said with a sneer, showing off a row of rotten, yellow teeth. "You was the lass who took my bet last week."
You turned away, unsure how the poor sod had placed his bet and not caring in the slightest.
"I'm talking to you!" he shouted and you turned with fire dancing in your eyes as he dared to continue. "You gave me that rubbish tip about Monaghan Boy!" he said, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.
"Gonna let your missus handle that one?" a secretary asked as she passed John's desk.
John lowered his paper as he shrugged, "Why not? She can take care of herself better than half the men here," he said, voice swelling with pride. He grinned to himself as he thought of all the times you'd bested him in an argument and counted himself lucky someone else was on the receiving end of your temper for once.
"He must have been off his tits! Came in dead last," the man grumbled to you.
"You'd know something about that, eh?" you countered, snickering as you pushed past him to gather a few papers.
"What did you say to me?," the man asked, puffing out his chest.
"Oh, God, this is going to be good," John said with a slight giggle. He could tell by your folded arms and the way your foot began to tap rapidly against the floorboards you were properly angry now.
You whipped around, annunciating your words as if he were a complete idiot, because he was. "I said you're a fucking drunk who made a shit bet so don't come in here and throw a wobbler like a bloody child!"
Sitting back to watch the drama unfold from behind his paper, John snickered as he listened to you give the man a tongue lashing. The man retaliated calling you a cunt.
John sucked in a breath. "Ooh, I wouldn't call her that, mate!" John commented to no one in particular, shaking his head. He kicked his feet off the desk and leaned forward slightly to see how you would return the insult.
You wagged a finger in the man's face, half his size, but berating him as though you were equally matched. "Call me that once more and I'll cut ya, ya filthy animal! Don't fuck with me!"
That's when John saw the man reach out to grab you by the arm and he was on his feet in seconds, pounding the floorboards menacingly. He pinned the man to the wall, narrowing his eyes at the bastard who dared lay a hand on you, asking, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The man could only gurgle in response as John held him by the throat.
You brushed your sleeve, noting the dirt he'd left behind with a frown before collecting yourself and lightly placing a hand on John's shoulder. He turned to look at you, eyes softening, but grip remaining firm.
"Can I borrow your blade, darling? Left mine in me other skirt," you said, voice as thick and sweet as honey.
"Of course, love," he said, handing it over with a quick kiss.
"Wait, wh-what's sh-she going to do with that?" the man stuttered, too afraid to move.
"Cut your balls off, I reckon," John replied. Breaking out into a shit eating grin, he reached up to smack the man on the cheek a couple of times. Then he pulled back to take in the look of horror as he snorted, "Nah, just take your eyes. She's a blinder after all and she did warn ya not to fuck with her."
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sillyblues · 10 months
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‘pecador.’
synopsis— you bring the sinner out of miguel o’hara
cw— religious themes, blood, mild nsfw, 18+
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“En el nombre del Padre,”
Miguel O’Hara was a sinner. Violence has always resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins. It was evidently clear to him and everyone, even back then when he was younger. He could barely remember his first memories of joy with his mother nor a play with his brother, but he could remember vividly when he threw a punch at somebody who told him that he and his mother and brother were dirty.
And ever since then, he has not learned of a moment filled with peace. His father berated him and punched him as well because how dare he hurt the son of his boss. Because of it, his father had been fired, and they had no money anymore. But Miguel didn’t care. How could he when that little shit insulted his mother in front of him? He let his father vent his anger and frustrations on him. 
“Y del Hijo,”
But a mother’s love was great, and his own mother couldn’t bear to see her son getting hurt, so she tried to stop him. She took her in his arms and protected him from his father. But she shouldn’t have done that. He wished his mother stayed put in place and come to him when his father was done with him. But she didn’t because her love for him was great.
His father grew furious at the sight of his wife hiding his son away from him and in wrath, he hurt Miguel’s mother as well. The slaps and the punches and the hair pulls were thrown at his mother and he knew it was painful. He tried to pull away from her as his eyes were wide and tears streamed down. He begged his father to stop and asked him to forgive him, he sobbed as he said to him to hurt him instead, just not his mom. But despite it all, his father turned a deaf ear to his pleads and his mother’s embrace was tight just so he would not get hurt.
“Y del Espíritu Santo,”
His father’s anger was a large fire that evaporated away his family’s water of tears but Miguel’s resentment was a burning fiery hell only reserved for his father. His rage was molten and flowed through like lava and it pulsed within his heart and consumed his rationality. His fury blinded him and he didn’t know what he had done until he regained his vision momentarily back to see his mother crying.
“Miguel, escúchame,” his mother whispered to him with a tremble as she took the bloodied knife that he didn’t know he was holding from his arms. He looked at his hands soaked in red and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“My baby boy, thank you for protecting Mama,” she hugged him and rocked him back and forth as she sobbed. Like instinct, he hugged her back weakly. “I love you so much, I want you to know that.”
“Be strong for me and for your little brother, okay? He has no one but you. Take care of him and yourself, alright?” her soft voice was full of sadness and he desperately wanted to look up to her and comfort her. He wanted to tell her that he also loved her very much and he will but like a lullaby, her voice sent a wave of sleepiness and his vision darkened.
But he couldn’t help it and then, he fainted. When he woke up in a hospital room with his little brother, Gabriel, snuggled beside him, nurses and the police greeted him. There, he knew his mother killed herself.
“Amen.”
He took his mother’s words to his heart and swore that he would protect his brother. He did not let anyone take him or his brother or relied on adults because he trusted nobody. He appealed to the court at 16 years old that he could take care of himself and his brother. Fortunately, he was approved and he took multiple jobs to sustain their needs. He didn’t go to school, no, he didn’t have any time but he made sure that Gabriel did. He worked tirelessly sleeping barely 5 hours a day just to bring food to the table and have a roof over their heads. But despite his busy schedule, he made sure to be there on Gabriel's important days.
Years went by and they had formed a mundane lifestyle. And he tried so hard to keep it that way. But violence resided in his soul and the sinner in him was rekindled once more when his brother was found dead one early morning. He received a call when he was about to go to work and rushed to the crime scene when he heard the news. When he saw Gabriel’s lifeless body and the blood that pooled around him, the remaining hope in his heart was crushed and rage once more visited him and burned fiercely. The police ruled it as suicide as he was found in an alleyway in between buildings. But Miguel knew that it wasn't because of his brother who was so happy and talked his ear off about graduating and becoming a billionaire so he could support him and would never give up on life like that.
“Padre nuestro,”
Miguel decided to join the underworld where mafias and gangs ran about. He took jobs there not only for quick cash but to form connections and information. He investigated more about his brother's death and found out that he was bullied for a long time by a group of kids his age. Apparently, they picked on him because he was sorry for being dirty and a son of a filthy murderer. There was evidence on the autopsy that was not reported that he was burned, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. A camera evidence that was also not submitted and was deleted (but luckily saved by the corrupt authorities who tried to keep it as a blackmail opportunity) showed that they pushed Gabriel to his death and they all laughed about it. Not only that but he wasn't their only victim.
Miguel felt so angry at himself and guilty that he didn't know that behind his brother's insistence on being covered up from head to toe, lies numerous wounds. Knowing him, he probably didn't tell him so he wouldn't worry about him. He wished he did. He wished Gabriel was a little more selfish and made him worry about him instead because he would protect him better.
With this, he took his time to learn more about the arrogant pricks that murdered his brother. He moved to a different city, to Nueva York, so that he had an alibi. He stalked the conceited brats who did the same to numerous people and their rich parents who didn’t give a shit whether their children murdered someone. He learned their routine. Their schedule. And when the time was right, he put a bullet through their heads one by one when they least expected it. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come on man, I’m sorry,” they begged with tears and snot dripping, crawling backwards under his shadow. “Don’t kill me, please, I’ll give you anything.”
“Money? Do you want money? I’ll give you hundreds and thousands,” they always said the same thing, thinking that money was enough for him to forgive the suffering they had caused to his remaining family that they took away, the bruises and cuts on his brother’s body, the damage they had done on him mentally. “No? Half a billion? No, no! One billion!”
His jaw clenched. Pathetic pigs. He cocked and aimed it at them.
“No, no, no! NO—!” they stuttered and screamed but were cut off by the sound of a bullet fired by a gun with a muffler.
He wondered if they at least felt some remorse or at the very least thought about how Gabriel or the other kids they tortured and killed felt as they begged them to not hurt them. But he knew people like them, he had seen them countless times including his very own father. People like them didn’t care about anything or anyone other than themselves. These kids were just the same as them.
He made sure to clean up his tracks, deleted potential shreds of evidence, and made some story that would make their case solved and closed easily. He left the city swiftly and came back to his new home. With this, he tried to leave his old past behind and began his life anew.
“Que estás en el cielo.”
Miguel hated himself. He hated the fact that he killed his father which resulted in the death of his mother so that nobody will know that he killed him. He hated the fact that he was so ignorant of his brother's suffering that he had to be pushed to his death for him to realize that his brother was in pain. He hated the monster he turned out to be, always out for blood and killing people like it was nothing.
The sea of guilt and remorse suffocated him and he drowned himself in alcohol and women. The money he saved up which was supposed to be for Gabriel’s graduation gift was used on his vices. 
Day and night, his sins weighed heavy on his mind and not once, was he given at least a moment of peace.
“Santificado sea tu nombre.”
A knock snapped Miguel out of a trance as he smoked out of the window of his apartment. The wispy grey stench wafted in the air as he raised an eyebrow, wondering without much interest who could be knocking on his door. It couldn’t be the landlord as he just paid his month’s due. His past flings? Probably.
Knock. Knock.
He took another drag and inhaled as much as he could before he exhaled and extinguished it on the ashtray full of ashes and butts of leftover cigarettes.
“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”
He opened the door and found nobody, but a baby in a basket with a letter sticking out of the blankets wrapped around it. The sight of the baby filled him with anxiety and dread. He looked sideways, hoping to at least find who put the baby on his door but only the sight of closed doors greeted him. He had an inch of what was happening and he did not like it one bit. 
With a shaky sigh, he took the baby and cradled it in his arms. God, he didn’t even know its gender. But the sight of him made the baby giggle and coo at him and he bit his lip. Fuck. He opened the letter with his other hand and the words written on it confirmed his suspicions.
“It’s your baby, Miguel. You were the last one I hooked up with before I found out I was pregnant and even then, it was too late. She was too grown and I cannot abort her anymore. I don’t have any papers of her because I have no money and I can’t raise her.”
Miguel could feel a migraine forming and he rubbed his forehead. The baby must have found his distress amusing because it giggled once more and tried to grab his fingers. 
No. She. Not it. 
Fuck.
Miguel wasn’t ready to be a dad, he doesn’t even think he was suited to be one because he was a piece of shit but he took another look at her that was so snug and comfortable in his arms as she looked at him with wonder, he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to try to take care after her.
“Venga tu reino.”
A few years passed by and Miguel accepted his role as a father. He named the baby Gabriella after his late brother. He got into therapy and went back to work so he could raise her with no financial problems and so that he wouldn’t be a bad father to her. Gabriella was a handful child. He slept countless sleepless nights, often waking up early in the morning because she was crying. Sometimes it was because she was hungry, sometimes she just needed help to digest the milk, and sometimes there wasn’t any particular reason for her cries. But still, he cradled her in his embrace and sang lullabies to her softly.
It felt like it was just yesterday Miguel opened the door and found her on his doorstep. Gabriella has grown into a bright young child. She took after his looks as she inherited almost all of her genes from him. 
Oh, she was so lovely. She was the best of him, better than him and Miguel liked that because she deserved better. She made him believe that he wasn’t the worst piece of trash and that he wasn’t useless. She made him feel loved and he made sure she felt loved as well.
She was very much into soccer and he was so proud of her. He attended all of her games without a miss, winner or not. He was there with her by her side, teaching her how to be kind enough to not hurt anybody and allow herself to be hurt. He taught her to be emotional yet to also remain logical. He taught her to tell him anything yet also let her remain her own privacy.
Miguel loved her very much and she loved him very much as well. 
“Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.”
But he was a sinner and there will be time that his sins would catch up to him. He understood this one day when he got home one afternoon as he got home after work and was greeted by his child, his precious baby, his Gabriella’s lifeless body in her blood.
The tears came fast and thick. He immediately cradled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth. He begged her to wake up, to open her eyes for Papa. To surprise him that this was just a prank. Or a dream. Anything.
Please, wake up. You can’t die yet. I haven’t lived the rest of my life with you yet. I haven’t seen you on your quinceañera yet or your graduation or the first time you get a job. I haven’t seen you get married or surprise me with grandchildren. 
I haven’t seen you live your life yet.
Please. Don’t do this to me.
“Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día.”
Violence has always resided in his soul and with his daughter’s death, he committed his one last vengeance. He visited his old life once more. He got back with his connections and his trusted friends gave him whatever he needed in exchange for nothing and as their condolences.
The killers of his daughter were related to his previous crimes. They were related to the families of the people he killed and they decided to kill his daughter as their revenge.
And in return, hunted them all down. He hunted all families down and despite all the scars, all the sharp cuts, all the black and blue bruises, and all the bullets that pierced him, he never gave up and killed them all. Multiple mafia familias were down and he made sure that they couldn’t even think of getting revenge and that all they could do was bow before him.
“Hahaha, you son a bitch,” one cackled as he spat on him, “you deserve it all.”
“You heartless bitch, you’re the reason why all your family’s dead. Fucking cunt, you think you can revive them? Dream on.” he babbled his useless mouth on and wheezed.
“I know.” How could Miguel not know? For not one second that had gone by, he could never ever forget how he killed his family.
“Your death will not bring my family alive but it will make sure that any other families won’t be killed.” And with that, he pulled the trigger and let the loud sound of the gun resonate through the room. His head spat out red and some solids of his brain decorated the wall behind him. His blood dripped down and it joined the pool of the blood of the other corpses that lay dead in the room. The rays of the rising sun shone through the window and it gleamed on the pool of red. Silence filled the room and only the sound of his breaths remained.
Miguel’s eyes gave up suddenly and he fell to the ground on his knees with a harsh thud. With a tear, his shoulders loosened.
Finally. It’s over. Everything’s over.
Miguel should be glad that all of his enemies were gone and nobody would even dare to hurt him anymore but what does it all matter when everyone he held dear was gone?
“Perdona nuestras ofensas,”
Due to the rules of the underworld, the top dogs with Miguel O’Hara leading, their identities would be hidden and they would not be allowed to surrender themselves to the government as it could overthrow the black society altogether. Partly because of this, he turned to God and moved to a quaint town. He became a priest with the sole purpose of repentance and earning forgiveness for his sins. He didn't know if he was asking God to forgive him or his family who died because of him to forgive his carelessness in protecting them.
It was ironic really because he never really believed in God despite the nightly mass he, his brother, and his mother used to have. The words he uttered were redundant, merely sounds he couldn't understand nor tried to. When his mother died, he and Gabriel did the nightly mass in honour of their late mother. And when he died, he could only attend Sunday mass in the church with Gabriella because of the ache of missing his mother and brother yet still continue the tradition of being faithful to God. He wanted her to grow up good and kind so he taught her the values and morals of being a Catholic despite not fully believing in God.
A hypocrite, that's what he was and usually thought about as he led the mass during his schedule.
And he still was when a quiet mysterious woman moved into town. 
You.
“Como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.”
You appeared so suddenly out of nowhere in this town. He lived in the Church but in such a small town, words tend to spread easily. In just two days of your arrival, he already heard of a young woman who had just moved in. 
Miguel was a bit wary as this town barely had any people. Most residents were grandparents or older parents who were already retired and their children who left to move to the cities for bigger opportunities and education. He didn't know what you were thinking about coming here. Were you sent here by the underworld? No, it can't be. He was protected by his friends who ruled the underworld now. Did you have a past like him? Were you running away from something? He sighed as he shook his head. Then again, it was none of his business and it was most definitely not his right to pry.
The next Sunday was the first time he saw you. You sat there at the back, ushered by your neighbours, he presumed. In rows of people, you stood out so brightly. Your back was straight, there was elegance so blatant despite the plain clothes you wore. He met your gaze one too many times and noticed the way you hung onto every word he uttered.
And when the mass had ended he stayed around longer this time and talked with the locals a bit more. And without a doubt, your new friend introduced him to you.
“Oh good morning, Father O’Hara! Wonderful mass, by the way, I loved the homily, well, as usual, it really reflected my situation now with my son in college. Do you still remember?” Mrs. Lorraine greeted him with a handshake.
“Oh for God’s sake, Lorraine, yes Father still remembers that and I’m sure he appreciated that you love it. Don’t forget you’re here to introduce [Name] to him.” Mrs. Eleanor said, cutting Miguel off before he could even reply.
“Oh! Dear me, why yes,” with widened eyes, she laughed, “Yes, forgive me.”
“Father, this is [Name]. They just moved in here and I invited them to join the church.” she moved her body to show your figure and Miguel finally had a close look upon you. Your eyes stared at him and for a second, he felt like there were just the two of you. You looked at him with wonder and curiosity and Dios mío, you looked so innocent and he was reminded of the darkness that exists from within him. He felt like one touch and he could corrupt you easily. He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow, desperately hiding any tremor in his composure.
“[Name], this is Father Miguel O’Hara. He moved into this town a little while ago and clearly, one of our only priests.”
“Oh, good morning, Father Miguel.” Christ, your voice was soft as a wind that tickled his heart. You held out your hand to him. “It's nice to meet you.”
“Good morning.” He nodded stiffly. He took your hand and shook it.
Even your palm was smooth and he forced the thought down to hold your hand longer.
“No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal.”
You were kind. Endlessly so. You sponsored this town’s community event alongside donations to the church anonymously but everybody knew it was you. Everyone just decided to keep their silence to respect your decision in keeping your identity. 
You preferred to listen to others and learn more about them rather than talk about yourself. You always asked how everyone was doing and gave them gifts under the excuse of it being old despite it polished brand new. Whenever children or the grandchildren of the locals visited, you always stopped by their house and gave them little gifts as well.
Miguel had seen you interact with children multiple times whenever he was doing groceries and pass by at yours, he saw you giggling along with the children. He saw you reading books to them under the shade of a tree and rays of sunlight would gently decorate your faces and the winds would play with your hair. He saw you happy and the children happy with you as well.
And his heart throbbed at the sight of you each time but he swallowed the feelings forcibly down as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“Amén.”
He hated you.
He hated the way you invoke feelings in him. He hated the way you tempt him unknowingly and he cannot blame you to take any responsibility for the way you make him feel. He hated the way you make him want to sin again, to unleash the beast inside him he had caged for so long but for another different reasons entirely which was you.
He was a priest, someone who he tried so hard not to sin but you make him falter in his beliefs so effortlessly.
So he hid himself who had become a sinner once more just at the thoughts of you.
“En el nombre del Padre,”
But he was so weak for you.
After a mass one sunday morning, you asked him if you could have a talk with him just the two of you and somewhere private. Miguel knew he should have said no. He should have turned you away and pretend he has not been watching you from afar and from the corner of his eye. But he was weak for you and before he knew it, he let you in on his office room.
“Father Miguel, why are you ignoring me?” you asked so suddenly and he knew it was coming. He has turned away from you, pretending he doesn’t see you coming and would walk the other way. But he was still caught off guard. You leaned closer to him he could smell your delicious scent. He leaned away because his patience with you was just so little he might lose his hard-earned control.
“Pardon me, but you’re getting too close.” He said with gritted teeth and tight fists. You looked hurt at that. With widened eyes that were soon filled with dejection, you slowly rubbed your arm. Guilt flooded his being and as much as he wanted to apologize, he couldn’t. Any second with you drove him insane and he could only take so much of this. He didn’t want to lose his reason, his morals, his values as a Priest. He couldn’t bear to. But any more second with you, he just might lose it all for you. You bit your lip.
“Why do you hate me so much?” you whispered with small tears welling up your eyes and Miguel hated himself more. There was nothing more he wanted to do at the moment than to hold you and wipe your tears away himself. But he can’t. It’s wrong. Priests don’t get close like that to their fellow believers. 
“I don’t hate you—” he sighed as he looked away but you cut him off.
“Then why do you look away from me? Am I so undeserving for you to not look me in the eye? Am I so disgusting for you to get close to me? Am I so inadequate and worthless for you to treat me like you treat others?” you said harshly at him while tears slipped your eyes. You took a step at him with every word you said and he took a step back in every step you took until his back was pushed to the wall behind him. “So do not tell me that you don’t hate me when all you did made me feel like you despised my entire being.”
For fuck’s sake.
He grabbed your arm and turned your body, switching positions with his. He made sure to cover the back of your head so it wouldn’t hit the wall too hard and he growled under his breath.
“I do not hate you.” he said with gritted teeth. “I want you.”
Your eyes widened at that.
“What?” you confusingly and breathlessly asked.
“Every time I see you, there is nothing more than I want than to be with you. I look at your pretty face and I want to kiss you so bad. I look at your nice figure and I want to hold and caress you. I want you.” he panted silently, the words he never dared to even utter to himself outloud was finally out of his chest. And now that they were free, he looked at your eyes to see how would you react. Would you push him away and slap his face? Would you be disgusted with him you’d never want to see him anymore?
He would understand but he didn’t know if he could bear with your hatred.
“Then take me.” your hand encircled his neck and the other gently stroked his cheek.
No.
“I’m right here.”
I can’t.
“Show me you don’t truly hate me.”
It’s wrong.
“Show me how much you want me.”
In an instant, he captured his lips with yours as his hand slid to the back of your neck. At the touch of your lips, the hidden lust for you blossomed. He pressed his face to yours and yours closer to his deeper, his kiss burning so passionately and fiercely. You opened your mouth with a moan and he invited his tongue in, and he nearly groaned at your fragrance hynotizing him and your sweet taste that ignited a new kind of hunger for him. His tongue swriled with yours and together, they danced a dance that left him breathless.
He pulled away slightly and a web of both of your saliva disappeared. He stared at you as you panted. You looked at him pleadingly and your stare sent a rush of blood down in his pants. He wanted more and he knew you wanted the same.
And with that, he plunged to the roaring sea and its waging waves of lust.
“Y del Hijo,”
For you, he threw his title as a Priest and became just Miguel.
All for you, he returned to his origins and became a sinner once more.
“Y del Espíritu Santo,”
Each day and night, you invited him into your temple and he worshipped you. What once was just thoughts that tortured him became reality that gave him a glimpse of heaven. Your aroma engulfed him and filled his never-ending greed of you and your flavor satiated his endless glutton for you.
“Amen.”
As he finished his prayer, he stood up from kneeling and bowed to the Cross of the Lord. He fixed his clothes and the sounds of his footsteps against the tiles of the Church rang as he left with thoughts of you.
He wanted to hear your melody that was akin to the trumpets of the angels again. He wanted your soft and supple skin to be against his dark and rough ones. He wanted to be pressed under you with your legs on the either side of his head and your juices spill in his mouth. He wanted your warm cavern envoloped around him and to feel you come undone by him.
With a silent chuckle, he thought about how he tried so hard to not corrupt you by with his wicked thoughts only to be corrupted by you instead.
For Miguel O’Hara was a sinner and no matter how much he tried to change that, he will always be one. Violence has resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins but time changed him and has now become lust that occupied his being along with the infinite greed and glutton that only wanted you.
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ambrozjas · 3 months
Note
johnny with a shy reader
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johnny and ponyboy x shy!reader hc’s ꨄ︎
johnny cade x reader, ponyboy curtis x reader (separate)
✧˖*°࿐notes 🧸 ᰔᩚ
aaah!! loved this request!! i put my soul into these small blurbs 😭 i got two reqs for johnny and pony x shy reader so i just decided to kill two birds with one stone, yknow?
✧˖*°࿐warnings ᰔᩚ
mentions of scars in johnny’s, lmk if i missed anything!!
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
❥ first off, JOHNNY is also a little shy and quiet so you two would legit probably be the quietest people in the room
❥ i feel like youd guys would be very in tune with each other though, like even with just one look, you guys could understand each other
❥ like i could just imagine you and johnny sitting next to each other, you fiddling with his hands when nobody’s paying attention to you two
❥ like you guys can just understand each other, no words needed??
❥ do you get what i mean 😭😭??
❥ that being said though, if needed, johnny will come to your aid
❥ like, if dally’s bothering you an awful ton or you’re getting picked on, he’d def stand up for you in his own little way
❥ you both are quiet but nothing gets better than the late night whispers of affection you two exchange
❥ LIKEE..???
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈ 。゚
“how come you ain’t talk much either, johnny?” you asked the boy in front of you, who lay on his side in your bed, gazing into your eyes with that kicked puppy dog look as usual.
you and johnny were never chatty, who needed words when you guys could just understand one another just by a blink?
everybody used to joke how you guys could communicate telepathically, but sometimes that thought didn’t seem so silly. it was like you guys were telepaths, and you could just read each others mind at any time.
but even with few words, you two didn’t get bored. it was at night when all the words came out. which is where you were now, tracing johnny’s scars with a gentle hand, nothing but love and admiration coating your touch.
he seemed to think for a moment, eyes darting around your face as if to memorize every feature of your face in case one day he’d never see it again.
“only words i seem to ‘ave are f’you,” he paused, taking a second to lick his slightly chapped lips, “feels like you the only person who actually hears me.” he confessed, looking back into your eyes and almost wincing, waiting for the blows that never come. he waited for the insults that would never dare leave your lips, but when you didn’t say anything, it almost made his nerves worse.
“johnny cade.” you said his name, eyes not leaving his face once. “yeah..?” he whispered, almost inaudible.
“i love you.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
❥ you and PONYBOY are literally so cute together
❥ ponyboy is somewhat more talkative than johnny, so he’d be able to make more conversation, even if it’s awkward
❥ but sometimes ponyboy is a bit oblivious , so you might need to be a little more forward with how youre feeling
❥ sodapop always teases you both with how shy you are with each other
❥ would be more direct with telling people off for teasing you with ill intentions though
❥ you guys saw how bold he was for spitting at bob 😭
❥ AND UGH JUST IMAGINE HIM READING TO YOUUU
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。
your head was in ponyboy’s lap as he read one of his favorite books to you, ‘great expectations’. he was mid sentence before you dozed off, his hand buried in your hair and gently rubbing at your scalp with his free hand.
“.. and the clocks all stopped together. an e..ep—épergne, or center piece of some kind was in the middle of this cloth.’ did i say that right?” he had asked you, unaware that you had already nodded off.
“hey? you there?” he asked, tilting his head forward a little bit to check on your face, before taking notice of your sleepy state.
“oh—! shit..” he whispered. his hand still caressed your head, a soothing mechanism so you wouldn’t wake up. he couldn’t help but look lovingly at you in your serene state, how did he end up with such a perfect partner?
he smiled softly, before readjusting the book in his hand and continuing to read, still scratching at your scalp with his right hand. he didn’t mind if his legs fell asleep, as long as you got some sleep was all that matters.
boy, was ponyboy whipped.
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dkfkejddksk SORRY I HAVENT BEEN PUMPING OUT FICS THAT MUCH IVE BEEEN SOO BUSY WITH SCHOOLWORK !!
kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
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harusaki-hugo · 3 months
Note
Hello! I just saw your requests open i wanted to ask how would yandere: sanzu, hanma, ran and kakucho (separately) react to reader that is also yandere for them if not more? Thank you 💗🫶
Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Characters: Sanzu, Hanma, Ran and Kakucho. Genres:Yanderes Note: Ah, yes red flags trio. Kakucho is green flag forever in my heart, shut up. also, i don't know if you want hcs or short story so i make hcs. I might overdo this T-T
Sanzu Haruchiyo:
Sanzu is quite a picky at choosing his lover, he wants, no, he needs someone who similar to mikey. If Mikey his king, you either his queen/monarch or someone he tolerates.
The only reason he dates you at first mostly because of amusement, just some pawn for him to play. He accepts your confession because he thought you are easy to manipulate and he need it to stay out of police ranges because, well, mucho.
And boy he thinks he hit the jackpot because you are the most loyal and dumbest pawn he ever sees, you agree with everything he said, go along with everything he does, hell, you even turn your eyes away from the crimes he does.
At first, he thought that he keeps you around because you are a perfect alibi to use but slowly, he starts falling in love with you. like deeply in love, his amusement turns into obsession, from pawn to his new king/queen/monarch.
He now become extremely loyal to you, he become nicer and touchier, and do everything that you want. He will kill anyone who dare looking at you or has slight interest on you. He already claims you and there's no way he going to let you go.
But he never expects that one day you present him the head of the girl who insult his scars. Smiling proudly as you hold the head, a crazed look on your eyes that rival, no, more than him.
He now realizes that from the start you date him not because you found him interesting, no, you worship him more than he worships you. If he thinks of you as king/queen/monarch, you see him as a god.
You been killing all the people around him without even leaving a single trace or suspicion. You take care of his problem before he even knows about it, you make a shrine of him, you have a room with his pictures, you memorize his schedule, you know where he goes because you already put a chip on the mask he always wears.
Sanzu has mixed feeling about this, but he knows one thing, he f*cking love you.
Hanma Shuji:
For Hanma, you are just some random kid who always stalking him. Following him everywhere he goes and secretly take his picture, he thought that you were some gang informants or something, so he let you follow him around.
He thinks it's cute and adorable that you think he didn't know you follow him, the way you try to hide around the corner or act dumb. It's flattering that someone give him this much attention, and honestly, he starts catching feeling. Just a bit. Okay, like a bit too much.
When you not around following him, Hanma can't help but feel jealous and angry that you not there to pay attention to him. But if you appear again next day, his mood brightens that even kisaki weird out by it.
He became obsesses with you to the point he follows you back home, before you can close the door, he appears behind you and force himself inside your house. Telling you that next time you can just talk to him as he walks in, but his words die on his tongue when he sees that your whole house filled with his pictures.
There is a shrine with his picture and the things he throws away, hell, even the shirt with blood. He then sees that there's wall full of his past enemies that mysteriously disappear after losing a fight with him. All of them are now dead.
Oh, oh~ if he like you before he loves you now. He realizes that you are perfect for him. Someone who worship him to the point that you willing to be his slave. To do everything he order you. Surely you won't mind if he stays here, right? After all, why bother take a picture when you have the real one in front of you~
Haitani Ran:
You are Rindou friend who somehow always following the younger haitani around. Rindou sometime bring you back to home to hang out with, so ran thought that you are his brother side chick or something. Turn out you and Rindou are really good friend, you two meets when you stay at his side when he blacks out from drinking too much and you two just click from there.
Ran don't really care as long you didn't hurt his brother but his opinion on you changes when you buy him favorite Mont Blanc from expensive bakery in Tokyo. "They our friend now, rin." Ran say as he munches on the dessert.
Day by day, Ran start getting interest on you. You like the perfect friend, you know when to come so you didn't disturb his sleep, not making too much noise, buy him food every time you visit. He starts thinking, is this how it feels having a lover? He slowly getting obsesses with how you treat him and start falling in love with you and now he the one follow you around that even Rindou can't hang around with you without Ran sitting in the middle.
Luckily Rindou know that his brother smitten with you, so he uses this chance to leave you with his brother while he goes out drinking. So, like now every time you come to their house, rindou leave you with Ran. This becomes routine, heck, Ran even drag you with him to his room for a nap every time he feels like it, treating you like his personal teddy bear. So, you guys like, dating now? Yup, dating.
"You know, i never told them anything about you." Rindou exclaim one day, "I never told them you name or your sleeping schedule. Thinking back, when we first meet, they know my name already."
So, Ran and Rindou decide to follow you home and break in when you not home because they can. And much to their surprise are that your room are filled with Ran pictures from age 10 to the time they two being send to juvenile detention center and after they get out. There also a list of his enemies and half of them mark red and dead. Ran then realize that you been stalking him ever since he safe you from those bully long time ago, no wonder you look familiar. Usually, he will get creep out with this thing but it's you, the one he obsessed with. If anything, he feels flatter and proud that you love him to this point.
So next day you visit him, he told you how he loves you more now and want to stay with you forever.
Kakucho:
You, Takemichi and him are childhood friend. Well, more like he like you and Takemichi is wingman since he lives near you. Before he got in accident, he plans on telling you his feeling, but he lost contact with you after he is sent to orphanage. He thought that like Takemichi you forgot about him too, so he often stays away from you after finding out that you still live in the same house.
The only reason he finally sees you are because Izana getting annoyed of him disappear every day just to stalk you from far, so taking a lead he kicks Kakucho toward you when you walk down the road. Imagine how happy he is when you call out his name in surprise when you see him, you didn't forget about him even after he got a scar on his face.
Izana who wants the best for his servant allow him to take one month off from Tenjiku so he can spend time with you. And boy, he uses those days off wisely. Catching up with you, taking you out and make sure that he stays close to you, so you won't leave him again.
What make him happier that you confess to him, that you too like him since you two a kid. So now you two dating, and boy, he become more clingier to the point he drags you around even in Tenjiku meeting which Izana kick him.
One day you told him that you have business outside Tokyo, and it take a week for you to return. So Kakucho drag Izana to your house with excuse that someone might break in and that someone is him. He just wants your shirt because he misses you.
Imagine Izana and Kakucho reaction when he sees that your room are filled with pictures of him. Pictures of him and you, torn up pictures of him with what seem like Takemichi, pictures of him at orphanage, pictures of him with Izana. Turn out you been stalking him since forever, you also manage to find the orphanage he in and stalk him there.
Izana found a list of Tenjiku enemies on your wall, half of marked dead and half being torture. If Izana didn't approve you two reaction he is now. Which make Kakucho happy because his king approve his lover.
Next week you come back home, Kakucho greet you happily and told you how proud he is with you and how he loves you.
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#368
“Where are you off to?...  The mall?  Well, your friends will need to wait.  We have something to talk about. 
“I have looked after your step-dad, my brother, for his entire life, and I have gotten to know your ma just these past few years.  I trust Doyle with my life.  So when he and your ma ask a favor to have you live with me while they work out their problems, I can’t say no.  I told them that I don’t expect any problems from you.  And they assured me that you are a good boy and that you would follow my rules.  Well, after a long twelve-hour day at the job site, I want to relax with a Scotch Whisky and a nice Macanudo cigar.  Well, imagine my surprise that the bottle of Johnnie Walker, that I opened earlier this week, is well over half gone.  I know how much I drink; that bottle would last me a month and a half at least.  Care to explain?... 
“Well Vinny, don’t ever insult my intelligence again.  That is a battle you will never win.  You drank my Scotch.  Now you have to deal with the consequences. 
“C’mere!...  I said ‘Come here!’  Lay your sorry ass across my lap; you’re getting a good old fashioned ass whooping. 
“…I don’t give a shit that you turned 18 only a few months ago.  You ain’t too old to be put in your place….  Don’t you dare head to the door….
“…I told you not to underestimate me.  Hold still.  I was a state champion wrestler in High School.  I was also a cop before my heart problems.  I know how to take down a bitch like you.  Quit squirming.  Let’s get these sweatpants off you….  Going commando, hunh? 
“…What?  Don’t have something stupid to say?  It’s time for you to pay for your fuck up.  This is a nice ass.  So smooth and pale pink.  Too bad I have to welt it up.
“That’s one.  One of twenty… on each cheek.  Two…  Three…  Now this cheek.  Fuck yeah.  My hand is going to be sore for a while, but I don’t care.  Six.  Seven.  You are starting to go red here.  Boy you got a hot ass!  Ha! Literally it’s very warm. 
“Your crack needs some color….  What the fuck?  You are wet in your crack.  It doesn't stink.  Fuck!  This is lube!  What the fuck?...
“Ha! You were going commando to the mall in sweatpants and your ass is lubed up?  No, you have something lined up to get fucked.  Ha! Ha!
“And I bet…  Don’t try to fight me on this, you have enough lube here for me to easily glide in my finger… like this.  Oooh, there’s your prostate.... I can tell you are cleaned out.
“So, let’s start this conversation over.  Stand up….  I thought that’s what I felt.  Your pecker is hard from you being spanked.  Ha!  I love it.  Look I am totally fine with you being a sperm burper.  Fuck, get laid whenever you want.  So want to tell me where you were really going?
“Have a hook up?  That’s nice.  Is it from one of those apps?...  Let me see his profile….  Give me your phone….  Which app was it?...  Let me see.  This him?...  So you like 43-year-olds?  That’s cool.  I’m a little bit older than that.
“Oh, your chat with him is interesting.  Very interesting….  So you like sucking on ‘Daddy’s toes?’  This is fucking great…. Quit protesting.  I do love it… all of it.  I love that you are rock hard. 
“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.  I am rock hard too.  Yeah, I’ve played with boys before. 
“Here let me take it out for you.  Boy you got me leaking.  Grab a hold of it.  It’s a sizeable piece hunh?...  I see you licking your lips.
“Shut up….  One moment….  There!  I just sent him a message saying that you are going to be twenty to thirty minutes late because your uncle needs some help unloading some things.
“On the bed….  I don’t give a shit.  You got me hard; you are going to take care of it.  I want that red ass of yours.  Atta boy.
“Spread your legs as far as you can.  Just lay there.  I prefer when my holes don’t move around.  And if you can, don’t moan.  Just be the hole you are destined to be.
“Fuck!  It is like silk in here.  I am going to enjoy using this hole daily….  I said don’t say anything.  You live in my house with a hole I can fuck, you better believe I’m going to beat and breed this hole.  You got that?  Beat and breed.  Beat and breed.  I hope your mouth is as good as this pussy hole of yours.  If not, I’ll train ya right.
“Oh man, I’m gonna cum.  I’m gonna flood your guts.  Here it cums.  Here it fucking cums.  Get ready boy.  Uhhh!  Fuuuuuck!  Hell yeah!  Fuck!  Goddamn!  Fuck!
“Goddamn!  I love your ass.  Clamp down as I pull out.  Fuck yeah.  I can tell this isn’t your first fuck….  Don’t worry, I won’t tell your ma or my brother.  They don’t need to know. 
“Get up.  Clean me off….  What?  Look at my cock.  It needs to be cleaned up.  Get your mouth on my dick now.  Don’t question me on this….  Atta boy.  You are going to learn that living here requires you to follow my rules.  Rule one, you are getting beat then seeded when I want.  Rule two, you clean me up after yourself.  My cock rules this house and those in it.
“Ok.  Get dressed.  No, you cannot use the bathroom.  You are going to your hook up with a messed up ass, loaded up good.  If he should ask, tell him your uncle unloaded a week’s worth of baby batter in your pussy.
“Now go.  I want to hear details when you get back.  Oh and Vinny, in the future, if you want some Scotch, just ask.  Considering I’m going to beat your ass one way or the other, you kinda earned it.  Now go. 
“And take care of my babies.”
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