#It's short and sweet but next one WILL NOT BE SWEET.

[oceantornadoo]

ch7 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: oral sex both ways

masterlist | next

John Price thrives on routine. His days are filled with meetings and bloodshed, negotiations and betrayal. Routine keeps him sane.

Unfortunately, that resolution crumbled the moment he gained a wife. It’s getting harder and harder to leave in the morning, to ignore the fluttering of your eyelashes as you feign sleep. That’s what he blames for this break in routine.

The morning after, he stays for ten minutes instead of five. Counts the ticks of the old clock in the corner of his room as he memorizes the scent of your skin. You always end up with your head in the crook of his neck, legs tangled around his torso. He’s never been much of a back sleeper, but now it’s the last thing he cares about. It’s the sound of your breathing, the plushness of your skin, the brush of your chest against his. When he eventually gets up, he doesn’t look at the bed until he’s ready. If he glanced back at your eyes in half-slits, shifting closer to his pillow to soak up the remaining warmth he left in the bed, he would never leave the room. 

At night, though, he succumbs to his weakness. He creates a new routine.

It’s the start of a new week after the getting-off confession. John had business in Glasgow over the weekend, lonely and cold in his hotel bed, but now he’s back.

“So Laswell sent me the contract. I definitely have enough to pay in full, but I’m thinking of paying half and then doing installments for the rest so I can have enough for immediate repairs. What do you-John?” John’s nodding along to your rant, disappearing under the covers to the place he’s been thinking about all weekend. The blanket’s a bit heavy, limiting his breathing, but it’s worth it for the sight of your clothed cunt, waiting for him.

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.” Instead of following his orders, you peel back the cover until his head peeks out. “What are you doing?” He rubs circles into your thighs, reveling in their softness. John moves upwards, teasing the fabric of your pajama shorts. “You miss me this weekend?” He murmurs, not sure if he’s talking to his wife or her cunt. Both seem happy to see him, if that’s any consolation.

“No, I actually got the best sleep of my- hey!” He shoves his face into the triangle of your lap, sniffing with wonder. “Fuck, I missed ya.” You’re silent at his admission, but your hand finds a hold in his hair. “You did?” It’s soft and unsure, forcing him to rip his focus away from your pussy. “I did.” You bite your lip adorably. You tug him forward, gripping his scalp hard, until his face is in front of yours. 

“Maybe next time, you take me with you.” Absolutely not. He was meeting with a new prospective manufacturer, shady and dangerous. He was not putting you in any sort of danger. John shakes his head, heart clenching as your face falls. “Not the kind of place fer you, baby. Gonna let me eat you out now?” You nod, but your face is still hard with repressed emotion. He kisses your forehead, trailing down to your cheek, then nose. “Give us a kiss then.” It’s the first time you’ve ever kissed him first, the notion sending blood straight to his cock. The kiss is short and sweet. Can’t believe how quickly you’ve gotten him under your spell. Two bloody weeks. He pulls away, a final kiss laid to your jaw. “Keep talkin’. Don’t mind me.”

The new routine continues for weeks. He gets you off a different way every night, from fingers to tongue to plain old grinding. And then he goes to sleep with you tucked to his side, taking care of himself in the morning. John needs you to be the one to ask to fuck, to reciprocate. The alternative leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Plus, every time he gets you off, you fall asleep immediately, like it’s the only way you’ll go to bed. It’s terribly endearing.

A month in, he starts noticing changes. The furniture in the sitting room, for one. They used to be 18th century relics, designed to make sure a guest didn’t overstay their welcome. Except now they’re eclectic, blue and green against the cream walls. The couches look comfortable, like you could spend a whole day there. The paintings change as well, from Rembrandt to Monet and Picasso. The impressionist works, blues and greens and yellows, work well with the new furniture, making his flat seem like a home. When he asks you, all you do is shrug and say something smart about updating his old man apartment. He leaves bite marks on your thighs that night. 

It’s a beautiful Friday night when John gets home early, around 9. He usually gets text updates from Terrance, your commandeered security guard that Price assigned to you full time, about your movements. You’ll usually get home at 7, but nothing yet. Two hours late. He calls Terrance and gets his voicemail. Highly unusual. Calmly, he presses on your contact's name, and it goes to voicemail. Three times.

Fingers shaking, he calls Kyle.

“Sir?”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“My fuckin’ wife, Garrick.”

“Isn’t she with Terrance?” “No one’s answerin’ their goddamn phone.” Gaz sighs on the other end, like this is an inconvenience and not his wife they’re talking about. Keys click, then a mouse, before Gaz answers. “They’re at the bookstore. Been there since this mornin’, sir.” John drags a hand down his face, then grabs the keys to the car he barely uses. 

“Garrick, this is the last time you take more than three seconds t’ know where she is. I want a full team on ‘er at all times. I won’t hesitate t’ assign someone else as my Head of Security, someone who isn’t lettin’ their judgement take over their goddamn job. Copy?” He hasn’t dressed down one of his men, especially Kyle, but he’s tired of the man’s judgement on this marriage. What’s done is done. “Yessir.” John hangs up, too miffed to say goodbye. He’s got a wife to find.

-

Your bookstore is coming along well. It’s been over a month since you’ve been married, a month of John’s fingers and tongue loosening you in more ways than one. You swear you’ve developed stronger thigh muscles, simply from the orgasms he coaxes from you night after night. And then he just goes to sleep. You’ve felt his cock in fleeting touches, brushing against your thigh or hard in his lap as you grind on him. He never takes it out, never drags your hand in that grueling way men do with shady eyes and slimy smirks. Every night, he asks you if you hate him, and every night, your lie convinces him less and less. 

And every night, you think of how adamant he was against you joining him. His insistence that it “wasn’t the kind of place for you.” Your old problem with him has faded, a mess of childhood fears rolled into new ones. In its place are your insecurities, the word bastard floating through your head every time you think of his rejection. The clause in the marriage contract. It rolls together into a simple thought: he doesn’t trust you. That’s why he’s barely let you in on his business, content to stick with late night chats and orgasms. It should be fine, it should be what you wanted, but instead you feel a hollow hole in your heart where the word ‘friends’ lives. Even friends should share their secrets. 

But back to the bookstore. Your new baby. This first month was full of cleaning, dusting out odd corners and greasing creaky door hinges. You listed a hiring notice on online job boards, looking for an assistant to help with the grunt work. Which landed you Phil, a wonderful addition to the team. He was around your age, an American with sandy blond hair. Handsome in a basic way, something you noted and never thought of again. Terrance ran a background check on him, something you gladly consented to, and insisted on helping you interview him. It took a week of recon, but he was officially your new assistant as of two weeks ago. An amazing help around the store, handy with tools. You’d told Phil that you were the daughter of a lord, a minor lie to explain the bodyguard. He shrugged it off, the ex-pat seemingly used to the oddities of London.

Now that the space had been cleared, it was finally time to paint. Terrance insisted that he couldn’t help too much, his main duty too important, but with the help of Phil, you convinced him to paint the walls with you. You all left your phones in the half-fixed office, donning plastic sheets to protect from paint splatter. Your business plan, formed from your downtime during the day and shaped by your late-night conversations with John, was to have a store section and a community section. The community section would be at the front, with a beautiful light blue accent wall, perfect for book influencers. It would be surrounded by comfy couches and warm lighting, complete with a cafe space you intended to build out. Your idea reminded you of the library waiting hours away, with its own fireplace and furniture. You decided to recreate that cozy feeling and bring it to the public.

Farther into the building there would be bigger shelves for rows and rows of books, organized by type. The color scheme was influenced by the one in your home, as you decided to hand paint metal shelves light blues, greens, and yellows. Most would be bought, but you were planning a book drive far out for people to donate old books and get discounts on new ones. It’s an idea you had wanted to do in Manchester but never got around to.

Now that the front of the store was cleared out and bare, it was time to paint. The hours fly by as you paint the light blue wall while Phil and Terrance work on a cream wall on the other side. When you blink, the sun is already down, and your watch is flashing 10PM at you.

“Guys it’s almost ten! I think we ought to lay down the brushes for tonight.” Phil opened his mouth to respond but is cut off by a harsh pounding at the locked front door. It was supposed to be clear, but there was newspaper on all of your windows to prevent the glass from getting paint on it. Frowning, you moved to open the door, but Terrance stopped you with his arm out, his other hand reaching for his gun. “Go into the office, ma’am.” You followed his command reluctantly, Phil following on your heels as you went into the back office. It didn’t have any windows, so it was a space you did not want to be in for a while. Phil looked nervous, running his hand through his hair and tapping his foot on the ground.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Phil. Probably one of the neighbors complaining about our music.” You insisted on a jam session as you painted, blasting music from a speaker you stole from the Castle. “Shady things happen in London no matter what time, boss.” You shrug, picking up your phone to quell your nerves. A glance at your notifications explains everything.

Oh no.

You burst from the office, phone already returning one of your many missed calls. That’s when you ran into your husband, face hitting his hard chest with a harsh oof. “Christ, sweetheart, gave me a near heart attack.” John steadied your shoulders with his large hands, anchoring you in his grip. His brow was furrowed, eyes crinkling in worry as he scanned you up and down like he was looking for injuries. “You didn’t answer-” “Everything good out here?” Fuck. Phil.

“Who are you?” It was a tone you’d never heard come out of John’s mouth. You imagined it was his mafia man voice, gruff and short like he had a better place to be. John shoves you behind him, reaching for his gun. You rolled your eyes, hand covering his to stop a potential shoot-out. 

“John, he’s my-” “Assistant, sir. Good to put a name to the face, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You could practically hear Phil winking, laying on the Southern charm. You wrestled out of John’s grip, stepping out from behind his back. Phil’s hand was out for a handshake, but John hadn’t taken it, scanning the man up and down with suspicious eyes. “Funny, ‘cause I’ve never heard about you.” John tore his gaze away to catch yours, eyes slanted in anger. “I don’t have to tell you everything, John. I’ve got my own life, you know.” He looked almost hurt at your words, which couldn’t be true. Sure, you were fucking, but it’s not like this was a normal marriage. You knew he wouldn’t have wanted Phil working with you, just on the basis of him being a man. You didn’t want to be micromanaged by your own husband, so you simply hadn’t got around to telling him. 

“C’mere.” John tugged you towards the office, his grip hard. You could hear Terrance telling Phil to go home and wait for an update. Probably for the best. You imagined Terrance following him out, then debriefing with John’s driver about how much of an asshole their boss was.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?” John asked, arms crossed and face red. He’d shut the office door but remained standing since there wasn’t any furniture yet. “Because I knew you’d get like this.” You spit out, crossing your arms to mirror his. “Fuckin’ concerned fer the security of my wife? Tha’s a bad reaction?” You took a step back from him, crossing your arms tighter so you could pinch your waist, a reminder to stay strong.

“Controlling and caveman. This is my place of work, John, and you’ve embarrassed me in front of my coworker.” He doesn’t meet your eye, staring at the door so hard it might burst into flames. He looks like a predator ready to pounce, muscles trembling from restraint. “Ya don’t realize how many enemies I have. Every person needs t’ be checked.” Did he think you were stupid? “I had Terrance check him out. I know you don’t want me around your work, but I’m not an idiot, John.”

His rejection of your offer to travel with him weeks ago had stung more than you cared to admit. He clearly didn’t trust you, only seeing you as someone to fuck around with. You didn’t realize how far that lack of trust went.

“He should’ve reported it to Gaz.” John mutters. “He did. I know that for a fact.” John ran a hand through his hair, then dipped down to tug at his tie. “He didn’t fuckin’ tell me. Christ, he’s worse than I thought.” You wanted to ask what that meant, but you bit your lip instead. He obviously didn’t want to tell you.

“Look, I know I’m a bastard and you had that goddamn clause in the contract, but you can trust me. I’m not running around behind your back.” That got John’s gaze to snap back to you, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Tha’s wha’ ya think this is about?” You nod, suddenly unsure. “Sweetheart, that was Gaz’s idea. T’ see if you’d argue. I intended for you to ask fer another cheatin’ clause fer me, but ya didn’t so I let it go. ‘S nothin’ like tha’. Plus, I didn’t know ya then. I know ya now.” Oh.

“So you trust me?” What about the trip? You wanted to ask, but you figure that would show your hand too much. John nods slowly, uncrossing his hands to put them on his hips. “Don’t care tha’ yer a bastard. ‘M not fuckin’ anyone else, either. I’m just concerned fer yer safety.” He takes a few steps towards you, gauging your reaction to see if you step back. You don’t, uncrossing your arms and praying they don’t shake. He grabs your hands in his own, blue eyes swimming with openness. There are so many things you want to ask him about: your childhood, his father, the future. They all fall to the wayside when he leans down to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “If I didn’t trust ya, ya wouldn’t sleep in my bed.” He kisses your forehead, then cheek, before pulling back. “I need ya t’ believe me.” He demands it seriously. A sudden rush of affection hits your heart. He looks so truthful, so concerned, and you want to show him that same care back.

You lower to your knees. John steps back, unsure. “Sweetheart, ya don’t have to.” You shake your head, beckoning him to come near. “I want to.”

John tugs off the blazer he’s wearing, folding it into a light pillow. He squats down on his haunches, eyes on yours. A warm hand brushes your knees, urging you up so he can slip the blazer under them. He then stands; blue eyes dark as he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “Go’on, baby. Take whatever you want.”

You reach for his black belt, unfastening it with trembling hands. It unclips with ease, and John’s hands, hairy and veiny and strong, cloud your vision as he unfurls it from his belt loops. You continue downwards, undoing the midnight black of his button. You unzip slowly, licking your lips in anticipation. His fingers brush back the creases on your forehead, trailing down to brush the shell of your ear. “Feel ok?” You nod at his question, cupping him through his boxers. John releases a sharp exhale, a heady sense of power coming over you. You work the pants down fully to give you room, petting him this way and that.

Finally, you peel down the dark fabric of his boxers. He’s hairy but well-maintained, similar to his fuzzy torso you’ve felt in bed. His cock is thick and heavy, wet with precum as it slaps against his upper thigh. You tuck his boxers down to give you room, then start exploring. Kitten licks to the base of him, his hair tickling your nose. Your hand joins you to squeeze his balls, eliciting a sharp groan. John tugs on your hair, more out of instinct than control. “You feel ok?” You throw his words back at him, a cheshire smile growing as he moans again.

“Christ, those fuckin’ hands.” He responds. You move to start stroking, licking him from base to tip. He tastes like salt and musk, but clean with the scent of pine. It’s the most addicting scent on earth. After he’s wet and leaking, you steady yourself with a hand on his upper thigh and the other on your husband’s cock.

You finally take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip. You hum and his grip on your hair tightens. “‘M gonna fuck yer mouth sometime.” You let go of him with a pop, leaning backwards. “Not tonight?” He shakes his head, reaching down to pump his cock in your absence. “I’m a few strokes from cummin’, sweetheart. You look too goddamn good on yer knees.” That earns a grin from you and a renewed sense of vigor.

You suck him hard this time, your hand making up the length you can’t cover. You work yourself into an easy rhythm, up and down as he cradles your face. It’s much softer than you’ve ever experienced from a man, careful and protective. He wasn’t kidding about how close he is, harsh pants emitting faster and faster from his chest. “Where d’ya want me, baby?” You don’t respond, keeping him in your mouth. All you do is blink sweetly, willing your eyes to look bigger than usual. “Fuckin’ perfect, my wife.” That sends a jolt to your heart, and you have to stop yourself from accidentally biting down. Instead of responding, you stroke faster and faster. His abs tense, and you pull back just slightly, letting him coat your tongue and lips. It’s salty but not bitter, a marker of how fucking healthy he is. You lick your lips, swallowing thickly. His thumb brushes off a bit from your nose, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck hard, like you did the night he first fingered you. He continues cleaning you up, careful and quiet in his movements. John tucks himself back into his pants and offers you a hand to help you off the floor.

“Your knees sore?” He whispers. You shake your head, suddenly feeling exposed despite not having taken your clothes off. “C’mere.” He tugs you into his arms, tucking you under his chin. “We good?” He asks. You want to say no, want to ask him all the questions swirling around in your head, but all you do is nod and hold him closer.

-

In the car, John’s hand on your thigh, your phone vibrates. It’s Phil.

Everything ok?

Yep! Marital problems, all good.

Your husband is intense.

He’s a sweetheart for me, all that matters 🙂

Good to know. See you tomorrow.

His tone is odd, but you shove that thought from your mind. John squeezes your hand, and you tuck your phone away, content to focus on your husband. Phil is the farthest thought from your mind.

-

um. smut. now they're like friends with problems? idk enemies got boring.

-

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[bloodnight-blaze]

“ kiss me under the mistletoe! ”

ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, and sylus w a gn!reader.

synopsis: the holidays are long over, but that doesn't stop you from hanging up a mistletoe as an excuse to kiss your boyfriend.

notes: listen.... listen okay.... i can't wait until december to write this i have to get it out now.... lengths of each section may vary but i tried to keep it to an 8 paragraph maximum.

warnings: canon is vague so you decide, inaccurate timing of mistletoe i guess, very short and sweet and self-indulgent, just a lot of fluff and a lot of kissing, reader wears lipstick in raf's part bc i am desperate to cover that man in lipstick stains, zayne is a menace, sylus is also a menace, pet names used: cutie (r), sweetie (s).

XAVIER — is very confused when he wakes up from a nap to see mistletoe dangling in his face. Last he checked, it was the middle of January so he's fairly certain he didn't sleep the entire new year away. Though, it's not something that's entirely out of the question.

Behind the mistletoe he saw your smiling face, and you pull the plant away from him as he sits up, planting yourself right next to him and looking at him expectantly.

Xavier knew what the mistletoe meant, he just didn't quite understand why you were using it now, weeks after Christmas.

You don't seem at all concerned by the timing of this, just smiling at his confusion and raising the mistletoe up a bit as you speak, "This is the part where you kiss me, y'know,"

And while he might have some questions, he's never been one to deny you what you want.

A small huff of amusement, and then he's leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against your lips. You eagerly kissed back, barely able to contain the giddy smile on your face when the kiss breaks.

The smile on your face, coupled with the look of satisfaction in your gaze has him pulling you onto his lap, pressing a few more quick kisses to your lips before he's burying his face in your shoulder and letting out a small sigh.

His heart felt so warm, and even though he just woke up from a nap, he wouldn't mind falling back asleep like this. Which is exactly what he plans on doing, by the way, so any plans you had after your silly little idea are immediately canceled.

ZAYNE — would pretend not to notice it at first. He's not being mean, he just thinks the little frustrated pout you get when he acts like the mistletoe has always been there is cute, so he can't help himself. He's also curious to see just how far you'd go to get a kiss from him without having to ask.

It even becomes a game, of sorts, with Zayne sometimes acting as though he'd finally kiss you when standing under the mistletoe only to instead pat your head or press a kiss to your cheek.

You took his teasing as a challenge, and soon enough you somehow hung up mistletoe in all of the doorways in both your home and his. You even went as far as to hang one in the doorway of his office at the hospital.

A few of his coworkers had questioned him about it, and he couldn't stop the look of fondness that bleeds through his usual calm and collected demeanor, simply telling them that it wasn't any of their concern.

It all coalesces one night, maybe two or three weeks into trying to get a kiss under the mistletoe with him. He showed up at your apartment with dinner only to find you sitting at the kitchen counter, all the mistletoe you had put up set in a pile. Your arms were crossed, and you were glaring down at the plants as if they'd insulted you in some way.

"I give up," You say, a bit dejected. And Zayne feels a bit bad, admittedly, as he sets your dinner on the counter next to all the mistletoe. He doesn't really understand why you're trying to get an excuse to kiss him when you can just do it, but he'll humor you.

With a small sigh, he grabs one of the mistletoes and dangles it above your head. It's enough to get you to perk up, and you brighten immediately when he presses a kiss to your lips. It was quick, and when he pulled away, he mutters a soft, "Satisfied?"

"Hardly," You exhaled, but he covered your mouth with his hand before you could kiss him again, his lips quirking up in a slight smile at the frustrated sound that comes from you. You weren't getting anymore kisses until you ate dinner, no matter how pretty you looked with your puppy-dog eyes.

RAFAYEL — probably wouldn't even realize you had put mistletoe in the entryway of his home. At the very least, when he does notice it, he'll be far more interested in figuring out what shades of pant he could make with the plant rather than anything else.

You can't say you're shocked when you hurry back to his place after running a quick errand to find him crushing the mistletoe. You curse yourself for not buying a backup in case this scenario happened, but there wasn't much you could do.

That doesn't mean you were any less determined, however. The mistletoe may not longer be a plant, but it was in the paint he was making, and therefore the rules still applied, so.

Deciding to be patient, you would wait until Rafayel actually used the paint to make your move. The painting hung on his wall proudly when it was finished, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched you admire it for a few moments, "So? Would you say this is my new masterpiece, cutie?"

And you feign deep thought for a moment before you pull him down into a kiss. It wasn't heated, but it did last for a good second before you pulled away. Bewilderment in his eyes and a pretty blush dusting his ears and cheeks, you smile and simply nod to the painting on the wall, "Mistletoe."

It takes him a few moments to process your word, and his brows furrow slightly, "It's not even December," He says, though he certainly wasn't complaining when you pull him in for another kiss.

You kiss him until his face is covered in lipstick stains, and your lipstick was smeared. His breaths came out in small pants, a dazed look in his eyes when you finally pull away.

"...You're trying to kill me," He quietly accuses after catching his breath, and you can only laugh.

SYLUS — is rather amused when he steps into your apartment to see a thing of mistletoe dangling in the entranceway. He knew you were planning something from the moment you told him to stop by your place.

His amusement only grows when he sees you standing under the mistletoe, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible as he takes his jacket and shoes off. He doesn't need to ask questions, he's not a fool.

The mistletoe was there for a reason, one so glaringly obvious he couldn't help but feel a bit smug knowing that you were trying to find sneaky ways to kiss him. He was flattered, truly, but you didn't need to go to such lengths.

His hands were on your waist in an instant, and you don't miss the gleam in his eyes as he looks at you. Oh, he was never going to let you forget about this moment, and you were half tempted to pull away before he could get the chance to actually kiss you.

His lips capture yours before you can actually distance yourself from him, and it was much more gentle than you were probably expecting it to be. He kissed you like a man dying of thirst, and yet he controlled himself enough to not make you uncomfortable.

"You don't need to use a plant to kiss me, sweetie," He murmurs against your skin after breaking the kiss, instead taking to pressing light kisses against your jaw and neck.

The attention had your mind faltering for just a moment, and you grumble out a quiet 'whatever' before lightly pushing him away from you. You had to cover his mouth with your hand just to get him to stop kissing you. Not that it worked, because he just presses one against your palm, his gaze never leaving yours.

You're the one who wanted a kiss, even going as far as to bringing out mistletoe in the middle of January to achieve your goal. He's just simply giving you what you were asking for.

[thawme]

killer!geto suguru who met you through shoko during a night out.

he finds himself quickly taking a liking to you. you're cute and sweet, if not a little quiet. your innocence wafts off of you. a frail little lamb.

no one knows about his secret little side hobby. he's completely convinced himself he's doing a morally good deed, stalking off into the night and ridding the world of the sick and twisted vermin who would be better off dead. it's the best way to act on the thoughts, the urges that he no longer wanted to control. it's what's right.

he's only a bit unlucky when he runs into you one night, just after shoving a freshly-gory hammer into his small duffel bag. what's a weak thing like you doing out after midnight, anyway? you weren't even looking up when you bumped into him. such a late hour with no sense of self preservation. pitifully naive and unaware.

when you catch your balance and begin to apologize, your words fall short when you realize it's suguru. with the way the streetlight is placed just behind him, he's perfectly blanketed by the shadows of the night and you don't even notice the damp, dark liquid splattered on his shirt, the red dotting up his throat. you're smiling up at him, pleasantly surprised, but he can't hear what you're saying to him –

because a smear of blood from his sleeve has made a home against your cheekbone.

when he gets home he fucks his fist to the image of it. there's blood still hardened in the cracks on his knuckles, liquifying once more with the wetness of his cock. he pumps his length in frantic, uncoordinated strokes and pants at the memory fresh in his mind:

he'd taken a half-step closer, pupils blown out as he held a large palm to your jaw. his callused thumb brushed gently against the soft skin of your cheek until you were clean again. pure again. the sound of your breath hitching, confusion swirling in your eyes... the sudden desire he'd had to keep it there. let it stain your face a rotten hue, have you see it for yourself.

he keeps having these dreams, with skin rubbed raw and blood around his mouth. when he looks in the mirror, it's you looking back at him.

it's so beautiful.

he decides he wants you, then. to keep entirely for himself – to ruin. if he's a little more vicious the next time he kills, it's only because the thought of you filthily writhing and moaning underneath him has pushed his need to see someone bleed to new heights. it's your fault, so of course, you should take responsibility. it's what's right.

[aimfor-theheart]

write the ex gf vi mini skirt fanfic request and my life is YOURS

ANON YOUR LIFE IS MINE!!

wc: 1.9k bro what the hell

tags: i imagine this as a grad school au or a modern/non fantasy au. reader is femme/wears a skirt and is called 'princess'.

cw: suggestive. ex-girlfriend!vi but you're both still really into each other lol.

***

the night is young and blue. you feel good—buzzing with a little excitement and confidence. the top you’re wearing clings to you in all the ways you love, fits right where you like it to, and your skirt is cropped all short with a little ruffled edge.

its sweet. coy. flirty.

you’re out with friends at some late night joint where the food is fried and the drinks are cold. the group is rather big—over spilling from one booth into the other where people come and go, flitting from one group to the other to chat and joke around. you're all around the pool table, where you and mel have started a game of pool against jayce and viktor.

you’re having a good night despite the fact that your ex-girlfriend is here.

vi is nursing a beer, lingering beside her sister—who keeps flitting around to socialize—and ekko. they're vaguely watching your game of pool.

unfortunately, the disadvantage of dating someone in your close group of friends, is that when you split up, she’s still at every event and night out.

you both said you’d play nice tonight.

and you have been. you haven’t snipped at each other. you haven’t ignored each other, either, but tonight—

you're feeling a little bold. looking for a little trouble (much to the frustration of all of your collective friends. ekko had promised he'd keep vi on a tight leash tonight but, well, that's no fun.

you're testing your luck.)

and maybe your skirt is getting a little short.

a peek of lacy panties never hurt anyone.

(maybe except for jayce, who regards you with sibling-like affection, and whose mortified when you bend over the edge of the pool table to line up the shot. your panties, dark beneath your skirt, peak out. his eyes go skyward. viktor snickers and mel pats his arm.)

you and mel are beating jayce and viktor in your game of pool. occasionally, ekko is ribbing the guys for losing. you watch as the balls clink together, rolling around, before coming to a gradual stop. it's your turn again.

"tough luck." vi says, "winning streak may be over, princess."

ekko elbows her for the petname.

it is a tough shot. it's a bad angle.

you give her this little sneer, but it's toothless—doesn't actually have a lot bite. "you forgetting i always kicked your ass in pool?"

"and who taught you how to play?" she says, quick and easy with it. she's grinning a little, too, and you're careful not to look at her too much. your heart still stutters a little despite it.

you huff and roll your eyes and respond with a bratty little, "jinx taught me better than you."

and then you take position at the end of the table, setting your hips against the wood and leaning forward on top of it, pool stick in hand as you line up the shot. and leaned over the table like this, your top low—cleavage spilling out against the felt green, you glance up at vi.

she's eyeing you dark and hungry, watching you through the thick bend of her lashes.

you swallow, focus back on the game.

you aim, pull back, and—

the white ball cracks against the wall and then against the midnight blue one, sending it careening into a nearby pocket.

you bounce up as everyone audibly reacts around you—mel cheering, jayce and viktor in awe. ekko laughing. jinx shouts in surprise. and vi curses a little.

“you see that?” you ask her, smile curling at your lips.

she takes a sip of her beer, “i saw it, hotshot. let’s see if you can do it again.”

“just makin’ sure your eyes were on the game.” you quip back and ekko coughs a little into his drink. you turn away from vi, before you can see the look on her face, but you can feel her eyes on you. burning.

you bite back a grin.

you set yourself up to take the next shot; there's only one ball left until you and mel can sink the eight ball. you press your hips into the pool table again and slowly lower yourself onto it.

behind you, you can almost feel vi's gaze, dark and heavy. your skirt rides up, revealing a peek of your panties—

black and surprisingly delicate, the lacy pattern intricate. and vi should know there's a little bow on the front of them.

she knows because she got them for you.

(something yawns open inside of vi, cavernous and wanting; a little wild and hungry. she thinks about coming up behind you, thinks about pulling your skirt down a little so no one else gets a peek, or plastering herself all over your back.

she thinks about bending you over the pool table and—)

you sink this ball into the pocket, too, on fire.

you bounce up, cheering, as the guys start to groan. ekko says, "that's a wrap, guys."

you miss the eight ball shot, but mel, on her next turn, easily ends the game. jayce and viktor owe you both another round of drinks.

and soon after, you're sipping on a mixed drink, too sweet and too strong. cloying. it sits on the back of your tongue.

you excuse yourself to the bathroom at some point when the liquor is hitting you a little more and you're flushed with warmth, giggly from your friends. and as you're drying your hands in the bathroom, alone, giving yourself a cursory check in the mirror, you hear the door open.

you pick your gaze up and in the mirror, you catch vi's eyes.

your stomach flips, a butterfly of nerves taking off inside you.

as she approaches, her form dark and broad—shrouding yours in the glass reflection as she nears, you turn over your shoulder to say, "what are you doing, vi?"

she cages you in against the sink, thick arms on either side of you. you feel the hard press of her belt, cold and metal, against the soft give of your body. your back is almost pressed to her chest. in the mirror, you watch her tongue swipe across her teeth. you trace the shape of her around your form—your own face, lips a little parted in surprise. hair tousled. the dark look in her eyes as she takes you in, too, takes in your reflection.

she smells familiar; soft, worn leather and amber. she feels familiar, too, having her around you again.

in the mirror, you catch her eyes.

your breath hitches a little and you force yourself to turn in her arms, to face her. you tip your chin up in that haughty little way that she used to love or hate. her eyes are hooded when you say, "vi—you can't be cornering me like this. we're not together anymore."

(it's a little coy around the edges. you play innocent well.)

you feel her knuckles against your thigh before you realize she's taken the edge of your skirt between finger and thumb. she rubs at the fabric a little, admiring it. her fingers are just underneath your skirt, just barely against your skin there. your head swims—you blame it on the drinks you had.

"then why are you wearing the underwear i bought you? that little, lacy black pair?"

you feel warmth hit your face, despite it all. you try to bite back, "and how would you know?

"think i wouldn't notice?" she asks, soft and husky, eyes clashing with yours, "hard to believe—the way you're acting in this little skirt, bending over in front of me, letting it ride up." you feel the back of her hand brush against your thigh. testing. trying.

"i don't know what you're talking about." you try to turn your nose up at her, looking away, but her other hand suddenly grabs your face. a little rough. a gasp is torn from you, even as she squeezes your lips into a little pout. you shudder as she presses into you harder. a little meaner. you fuss and squirm, trying to twist away, but she squeezes a little tighter.

bares down on you like a bad dog with a little bird in her mouth. pins you in place.

(vi rarely uses her strength on you, so much so that sometimes you forget—sometimes you're a little startled with the sudden flex of her muscles.

is the room spinning? heat swarms your face, your neck—down to your chest, hiccuping a little with breath. desire is a sharp, bright flicker inside you.)

"you know, if we were still dating, i wouldn't have let you prance around like this all night." vi says lowly and she's—she's got some sort of smile lurking in the corner of her mouth.

(a sort of wild amusement, watching you. watching your eyes blow wide and dark with lust, despite the way you try to fight her.)

"we're not—" you try to get out.

"i know," she says and it's almost just a hiss, a growl around the edges, her head dipping to your jaw, the corner of your throat. she angles your head away to give her room, to hold you in place. her lips don't connect with your neck, but your pulse jumps like she does, jumps like you want her to. "and ain't that a shame? i would've taken care of you already—pushed aside the panties i gave you and—"

the door to the bathroom suddenly shoves open.

in an instant, vi is gone, almost like she was never there in the first place. your chest heaves a little, warmth sitting high in your face as you grip the sink still, leaning against it. vi is a casual distance away now, leaning against the wall near the sinks, like she's waiting for you. like you were just talking. you have to take her in—the slight flush in her face, the fever-bright burst of her blue eyes, to know that she was affected at all.

someone else walks in, none the wiser. they head into a stall.

"you comin' home with me tonight?" vi asks, gaze searing, despite the way she keeps her voice casual. to anyone else, it might sound like a friend asking.

"vi—" you warn, as you finally gather your bearings enough to head towards the door. out of the bathroom. she's on your heels.

as you exit, and walk back towards your friends, she drops her hand to the back of your skirt. she tugs it down a little, so it sits lower on your thighs. you try to swat her away, but she catches your wrist, twists it a little to press it to your lower back. it doesn't really hurt—but you hiss and whine about it.

"let me go." you bite out.

her hand, wrapped tight around your wrist, falls away and you almost miss it. for a moment, she lingers near the edges of your skirt, around the curve of your thigh, before slipping away entirely.

she grins, slow and lopsided—sharp at the edges. and you'd know that smile anywhere on her; know how it tastes, how it feels against your thighs, or along the bend of your shoulder.

know it means trouble.

all you'd been looking for all night—in the bend of her smile.

"yeah, you're comin' home with me tonight, princess."

[biteofcherry]

Touch the Darkness

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; possessiveness; power imbalance; forced marriage; D/s undertones; jealous Reader (though she claims otherwise); non-lethal poisoning; sex; turned on by violence;

word count: 6.8k

Author’s Note: I know you've waited a bit for this next chapter. I didn't exactly have trouble writing it, my muse was simply interested in other projects. But I'm always a hoe for dark Steve, so returning to him was inevitable. As it was inevitable for Steve's dick darkness to start corrupting Reader in small doses. Or, maybe, he gives her boldness to act out on instincts she would otherwise suppress, because they're not proper 😏 For a brighter side - Princess gains a genuine new friend! 🥰

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 8. Tempestuous as the sea

~ * ~

You could blame the slow process of writing on the tiredness, but it was honestly the fault of delicious macaroons you’ve been reaching for every single sentence. At least with the sweet bite the mundane typing of a bland report felt a little more exciting. Once you ate the final macaroon, only the boring part would remain. 

Of all the excitement and challenges that came with running a health center, the bureaucratic side of it was truly exhausting. 

A knock on the door of your home office startled you mid bite. 

Before you swallowed and managed to invite him in, Steve was already pushing the door open and strolling inside.

You glared at him, but didn’t comment on the intrusion. Knowing your husband, he’d say that he came in your pussy just this morning and you had no objections to it, so why fuss over a damn office. 

Pointing out that you didn’t exactly invite him into your pussy either, was a futile argument. Especially since you didn’t stop him, or even elbow him in those perfect, stupid abs of marble. 

Quite the contrary. You rocked back against him and begged, until he rolled you fully onto your front and savaged you. 

You were still disgusted with yourself for that. As well for the sex two nights before. And the one in the shower. Or the Sunday humiliation, when it became clear that the chef was in the kitchen preparing your fancy dinner while you were screaming the house down as Steve wrung three orgasms out of you, one after the other. 

So disgusted. And still giving in to the temptation that was the devil himself. 

Who walked around your desk and leaned against it, looking down at you curled in the chair and with your cheeks stuffed with sweets. 

A strange feeling knotted your stomach. 

You were barefoot, wearing a pair of leggins and a hoodie. Crumbs of gooey sweetness were sticking to the corners of your mouth. Steve was barefoot, too; which meant he came home for the rest of the day, with no plans of leaving. He had a plain, tight T-shirt paired with dark jeans, his leather jacket already taken off. He stared at your face, only briefly glancing at the almost empty plate of macaroons.

This scene was so… domestic.

Instead of unwrapping that terrifying thought, you diverted your attention to the royal red envelope in Steve’s hand. A beautiful calligraphy shimmered in gold. 

“What’s that?” You asked, swallowing the rest of your macaroon. 

Unexpectedly, Steve leaned forward. Tip of his tongue licked at the corner of your mouth, swiping the sticky sweetness. Then it plugged between your lips that opened on a soft gasp.

The kiss was short, but intense and depraved. As it always was with Steve. And your treacherous body chased it as he pulled back.

“Lemon would pair better.” He hummed, resuming his previous stance.

“What?” You blinked, confused. Your head was still swimming in dizzy fog from that unexpected kiss. As well from the fact nothing more followed.

You were married, but there was nothing marital about your relationship with Steve. There were no sweet kisses good morning or goodbye, or hugs and cuddles. If either of you initiated physical contact it was to fuck. 

But now no touching, or undressing followed. The unexpected kiss remained just that - a shard of affection a normal newlywed couple might show each other.

It messed with your mind. And pulled at a cord in your chest.

“With your taste.” Steve explained; corners of his mouth curling in a hungry smirk.

Which, really, should be followed by his mouth descending on other parts of you. 

Instead, your body filled with heat both from the kiss and his words while Steve returned to tapping the envelope against his thigh, unbothered. 

Swallowing, you pushed that spark of need down. Steve was already too aware of how eagerly your body responded to him. Especially, since you stopped fighting it too much when the desire sparked low in your core. You weren’t going to further your humiliation. 

“So what’s with that?” You asked, pointing at the red envelope. 

“An invitation.” Steve showed you the beautifully addressed front. “For Mr and Mrs Rogers.”

You ignored his pleased smirk when he said the last part. It still evoked annoyance. The realization other people were now calling you by his last name fueled that irritation. 

“To Stark’s annual post expo gala.” He said it with a roll of his eyes.

Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled. You doubted it was because he had no regard for technology and knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, Steve Rogers was exceptionally smart and up to date with many areas of expertise. 

From what you learned about your husband over the weeks, he wasn’t a fan of boring, social chit-chat and fake politeness. Which is why he preferred his direct, brutal methods of communication. But even he couldn’t fully escape socializing with the people he had on payroll and leash. 

“I assume it’s expected of me to go with you,” you glared at him, even though a small spark of excitement flickered in your chest.

You’ve been to a few fancy parties and fundraisers, but to attend something of this caliber was a thrilling novelty. 

For one, you’d get to dress up. You liked it, once in a while, to feel like a modern sort of Cinderella, who gets to swirl around in a pretty dress and eat expensive snacks. Secondly, it was a tempting opportunity for you as a director of the health center to lure in new benefactors. The project you’ve been working on was one that would need a solid dose of funding. 

There was also the aspect of meeting people in similar fields. Stark’s expo focused on technology mostly, but that area leaked into medical fields, as well. There were a lot of neuroscience breakthroughs in the past years, which served psychiatric and psychological fields. It could prove beneficial, if you spoke to some experts.

“Princess,” Steve tilted his head, “fuck the expectations.”

You almost sagged in disappointment.

“But-” he continued- “I have a few things to settle with some people and they will be there. It saves me a lot of time to do it there. And since I’m going, you are going, too.” 

He dropped the envelope onto the desk then cupped your chin with his hand. You hated how you didn’t hate the jolt of pleasure his touch evoked. 

“First official outing as newlyweds, Princess. Gotta make an impression.” There was near cruel mirth in his blue eyes.

“Pffft!” You snorted, attempting to pull away from his grip. You still haven’t fully accepted that once Steve had his hand on you, he was unlikely to relent.

Well, your mind didn’t accept it. Your body has become a whore for it. 

“I doubt I’ll be making any sort of impression on the corrupted men who kneel for you,” unless they were disgusting pigs interested in ogling Steve’s sidepiece. “Though I guess I could use you, for a change. Your name could be impressive enough for some schmucks to donate to the center.” 

“Tell them you’re mine and they’ll fund you three centers.” Steve said it so casually, without any hint of cockiness. In his eyes, it was a simple truth. 

“I’m not yours,” you hissed, more annoyed at the heat you felt creeping over your skin.

At that Steve smirked. 

He released your chin and stood up. He didn’t even counter your claim, as if it was the most pitiful lie that didn’t require any argument because neither of you believed it. 

He stole one macaroon before leaving your office. 

You quickly stuffed your mouth with the only macaroon left, in case he would take that away from you, too. Then you returned your gaze to the project document. Suddenly, with the prospect of potential donors, you felt a new wave of energy and motivation to write it all out. 

You clung to the claim that it was the same motivation filling you with excited lightness as you donned on a beautiful evening dress three weeks later. Adamant on enjoying the fancy party and working for the center’s goals, you pushed away the nagging thoughts of going there as Steve’s wife. 

Not that you thought anyone would be interested in that, anyway. You weren’t a famous socialite, or a model, and you considered Steve to be terrifying enough that no one would imagine him getting married. Much less gossiping about it.

The smaller argument you weaved - about you not even matching your outfits, ergo no one would recognize you as a couple - died the moment you descended the stairs to where Steve was already waiting for you. 

The only time he wore a suit was at your wedding. His usual style was rougher, more practical and intimidating. A jagged chunk of volcanic rock, still pulsing with burning lava. So it was quite shocking to see him in a dark blue two piece that was cut so perfectly that his broad shoulders and tapered waist seemed more prominently outlined than when he wore jeans and tight shirts. 

The shade of his suit was dark enough to hold that dangerous, intimidating aura, but the shiny blue hue matched your choice of dress perfectly. 

He was the night sky to your moon glow. 

Steve didn’t mask the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you. Though you were thankful he didn’t utter anything about not making it to the gala, because he wanted to sate that hunger. 

He did, however, order you to turn around; with that rough, low voice that had your clit tingling. Despite the vow you made to yourself two months ago, to not so easily comply with his commands, you did as asked. You found yourself staring at your reflection in the large mirror in the entryway, your body heating up from the sudden lewd imagery of what could happen if Steve put his hands on you. Would he make you watch as he…

His ice blue eyes sparked a dark satisfaction, undoubtedly reading your body well enough to suspect where your thoughts have wandered.

But he didn’t mock you. Instead, his touch was a gentle brush that evoked goosebumps as he placed something shiny and heavy on your chest. 

He clasped the white gold necklace at the back of your neck as you stared at the incredible rock nestled in a cushion of diamonds that were so crystal white they appeared to be frosty snow. 

The rock in the middle was a hue of sundown orange, mostly transparent, but with a flame encapsulated within. Like the heart of a star. 

“Once upon a time,” Steve’s fingers trailed over your exposed collarbones and down along the delicate chain of the necklace. “There were six rarest jewels in the world. Called the infinity stones.”

Memory of Batroc asking about them flashed in your mind and you held your breath. 

The rumors were true, then. Steve was the ghost from the legend, who tore through the Greek magnate’s citadel and stole the rarest gems, without leaving a trace. If this was one of them, were the rest nestled in the rings on his fingers like you presumed once before? 

“This one is called the soul stone.” Steve traced the outline of the pendant with his fingertip, dipping it into the valley between your breasts. Your nipples hardened instantly.

“Fitting, since you’re the devil who stole mine,” your retort had no bite. Not with how breathless you sounded.

Steve chuckled, slipping his hand over your breast and lower. His fingers splayed across your belly as he pressed closer against you. His breath was a warm tickle on your skin as he brushed his lips along the column of your throat.

“I stole more than that, haven’t I, Princess?” He smirked at the flash of fear in your eyes, which dissolved into stubborn defiance. 

“Yes. My peace and chance at happiness.” You glared at him in the mirror. Which didn’t dent his amusement. 

With a chuckle, Steve kissed your neck then scraped his teeth over the spot. Thankfully, not hard enough to leave any evidence, but making your pussy clench. 

You scurried away towards the exit, before he decided to humiliate you by leaving a hickey that anyone could see. 

You tried not to show how Steve’s touch on your lower back affected you, neither on your way to the car, nor when you entered the lavish gala at the Stark Tower. You doused the warmth of comfort with a flute of champagne when Steve spent the first solid hour keeping you at his side and introducing you to various people. As his wife.

It was only after you two returned to the main hostess and Tony’s wife, Pepper, who greeted you at the entrance and then smoothly roped you into a social conversation, that Steve murmured something about attending to business.

He left you with a brief kiss to your cheek and a brush of his fingers sliding from the small of your back over your ass. Unapologetic about doing it publicly.

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at his retreating form. 

“Ah, newlyweds.” Next to you, Pepper let a dramatically dreamy sigh. 

Your gaze shifted to her, only to notice she was most amused. Unlike some of the women whom you were introduced to, she didn’t look at you with envy or disdain. Which had annoyed you, because really there was nothing to be jealous of. Well, mindblowing sex perhaps. But that was it. Nothing more. 

If they wanted Steve so much, you’d happily give him away. If he only let you. 

Pepper seemed genuine in her friendly approach, witty responses and warmth. The only flaw you found in her so far was the fact she was friendly with Steve, too.

Not overtly, in a way betraying carnal interest, or former relationship (which you sensed from a few other women at the banquet). But the platonic friendliness toward someone like Steve was alarming in itself. 

“Oh yeah,” you snorted, lifting your glass of champagne to your lips, “I’m sooo head over heels for him.”

Pepper’s laugh was soft and tinkling like velvet bells. Nothing fake, or annoying in the sound of it. Quite the opposite, you were surprised how it put you at ease after mingling with people who wore fake politeness like a family crest.

Crinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes as she looked at you and you couldn’t help but respond with your own grin.

“People often mistake my sunny disposition for naivety. They're very wrong.” Pepper said, taking a sip of her strawberry gin & tonic. 

“I know you didn't marry Steve out of love.” She stated bluntly, without judgment or conspiratory whispering. “But watching you two, some things are unmistakable.”

She lifted her left shoulder in a shrug, sparkling amusement in her eyes turning into a knowing look. Your heart halted before setting in a slightly panicked flutter. 

There were little moments when you felt certain cracks in your hard hateful shell, but you hoped that you managed to quickly hide them behind walls and under a mask. You didn’t want Steve finding more of your weaknesses. It was even worse, if someone else saw them.

Pepper barely met you and if she noticed how comfortable you felt at times beside Steve (when you forgot to remember you’re supposed to hate him and be disgusted by his touch), then the bastard must have been aware of them, too. Crap.

Still, you arched your brow as if you had no idea what she was implying. Pepper’s amusement deepened, she wasn’t buying your cluelessness. 

“There may not be romantic affection, but he sure gives you attention.” She said, angling her body so you stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the grand ballroom.

Before you snorted that you’d rather never have drawn Steve’s attention, she vaguely pointed at the room full of people. Expensive suits and dresses worth more than your half year salary, diamonds dripping, chests puffed. Women polished to perfection glued to the side of their men, sweet smiles offered on painted lips.

“That's something only very few women here experience. It’s rare.” There was a hint of disappointment in her tone, but you doubted it had to do with her own relationship. 

Tony Stark was like a hummingbird on energizer and coke - he fleeted from one conversation to the other, growing bored, acting pretentious asshole. He stopped for longer only with a few people. But every half an hour or so, he would search for Pepper and the way his attention zeroed in on her left no room to doubt his love for her.

She grounded him. Gave him a moment to recharge, even as she called him out on some of his antics. 

Many of the women at the gala, who accompanied their husbands, or partners, were there as an accessory. Beautiful, adding to the status, but few were even acknowledged by their company. 

“I’m not sure having Steve Rogers’ attention is exactly a good thing.” You pointed out. 

Everyone here may officially pretend he was a ruthless businessman, while they all knew the bloody truth. He was a mafia boss, a brutal king of the underworld, who wouldn’t blink an eye flaying someone open here in the light of the crystal chandeliers. 

No one wanted his attention on them, not really. 

“Not for most.” Pepper agreed. “Though some of the women might disagree.”

“Are you talking from experience?” You maintained a neutral, indifferent tone (mostly because you didn’t think there was ever anything between Pepper and Steve); yet there was a tiny flicker of something angry that ignited at the prospect.

It stirred with a growl and clawed out a few times that night, when a few of the women made it obvious they were wet and willing for Steve.

“God, no!” Pepper snorted, pretending to shudder. “I’m not that adventurous.”

“Yeah, bungee jumping without rope might be less of an adrenaline rush than being with him,” you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tilted in a grin. 

“Well, it seems only fair to give back in return. What would perturb the dark overlord?” Pepper pretended to seriously ponder, tapping her finger against her lips.

“I could try setting Bucky on fire.” 

Pepper’s laugh resounded with the same melodic chime as previously, but much louder. Not a single fake note, her burst of laughter was real. It enticed your own laugh to bubble out; both of you falling into a fit of giggles behind your drink glasses. 

You drew the attention of many people, who either watched you with suspicion, or glared offended. You didn’t care. And when your gaze connected with Steve’s, who looked your way from the other side of the room while some men were babbling next to him, you didn’t even pretend to be gloomy.

“Now that was the height of entertainment tonight.” Pepper looped her arm around yours, still smiling brilliantly ear to ear. “For me, at least. Now, how to repay you for that? I can tell you all the spicy gossip. We could get drunk and no one would dare to say anything to either me or you.” 

“Not gossip, but information.” You finished your champagne and reached for another flute as a waiter passed by. “I need to know more about this swamp my so-called husband treads through. And I need to milk some of them for money for the center.” 

“I know just the right people for that,” she nodded with determination and steered you toward the first potential benefactor. 

Pepper’s company was a wonderful balm and entertainment rolled into one. She was a graceful hostess, smart and perceptive professional, but also a bubbly imp who didn’t spare you the details about some sordid affairs. 

Though she could excuse herself with her duties, she stuck with you the entire time. She also managed not to smirk at your glower when she pointed at three women who have in the past fucked Steve. 

However, her smile turned mischievous as she spotted someone over your shoulder. She reminded you of the lunch date in three days that you happily agreed to, then smoothly glided away before you managed to properly say goodbye. 

Words stuck in your throat as you felt the familiar solid warmth at your back. Steve’s shadow cast over you first, then his heat and scent engulfed you. Like a mythological fate, always reaching its grasp for the heroine, no matter the hard fight towards the light, your personal devil softly pulled you back into his clutches. 

His hand touched your back and he spun you around. 

“Having fun, Princess?” He looked down at you. 

Icy blade of his gaze cut down men bigger than life, but, despite the first instinctive flash of fear, you felt it slicing through the layers of your clothes and defences. 

Plate by plate, you quickly reinforced your shell, to at least endure a few hours more before Steve got under your skin again. 

And into your cunt, because with his hot looks and your four glasses of champagne that was inevitable. 

“I don’t think parties of this kind are meant to have fun.” You scrunched up your nose. “But I managed to sway some rich snobs to potentially fund that educational project for the center. Leon Stavros seems keen to donate half the sum.”

You announced with a proud tilt of your chin and a smile. Tame enough to not share the actual happiness you felt with Steve. You wanted to boast about your little success, but you had to remember that he was the bane of your existence.  

Steve’s hand on your back settled heavier, while his other slid along your arm. He took your hand in his, outstretched your joined arms and in a single move swept you onto the dancefloor. 

“You’ll have to use his money for a different project.” He continued your conversation as he led you across the floor. “The psychoeducation and resources for caretakers project is already fully funded.” 

It took you a moment for his words to register, because you were still scrambling to catch up with the fact that a heartbeat ago you were standing off to the side and now you were dancing across the ballroom. 

It was truly mind boggling that your psychopath husband was a damn good dancer.

“What? Who?” You blinked, when it finally dawned on you what he said. You even cast a glance around, wondering who managed to deliver the funds so quickly.

Something sharp pierced through your chest as you realized there was only one person who knew before everyone else and could fund a project with a single transfer. Your gaze flicked back to Steve’s handsome face.

“Steve…” 

Heaviness of the situation turned worse by the second, because he wasn’t showing that smug, triumphant look, which would at least remind you to hate him. 

“You were determined to get that project running.” Steve replied easily. There was no affectionate passion in his next words, but still they chipped at the walls protecting you - “What you want, you get.”

“Thank you.” At the moment you didn’t know how else to respond. How to treat this gift. 

You could think of it as his manipulation to get you further into his sticky web, but he already had you at his mercy on all accounts. No, it flashed too much thoughtfulness.  

To preserve the comfortable setting of animosity, you asked cheekily - “What if I want a divorce?”

You were determined to keep asking for a divorce every chance you got. Officially, you believed it was because you wanted out of this fucked up marriage. Secretly, you were thrilled with the various ways Steve responded to that demand. 

“Then-” he pulled you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he leaned down to whisper into your ear- “you get a fucking so hard, any silly ideas drip out of you permanently.” 

Steve delivered on the hard fucking, even though you haven’t mentioned divorce again that night. 

You blamed the champagne and happiness at having your project funded for making you sit so close to him in the car on your way back from the gala, rubbing your heated body against him with unrestrained need. Steve was merciful enough to not wait it out until you lost the battle with your own will and initiated sex yourself, but instead dragged you over his lap, rolled up your dress and fingered you into a dripping, screaming puddle before you made it home.

Then he took you hard, in front of that fucking mirror in the hall. With you completely naked, wearing only the necklace and watching yourself give in to the monster completely. 

You nearly passed out when he fucked you again in bed. Your almost unconscious state didn’t stop Steve from using you thoroughly and then spilling thick ropes of white cum all over your body, white drops landing around the jewel sparkling on your chest. 

Though your body was wonderfully blissed out each time you and Steve had sex - which was becoming an almost daily thing - you still refused to use the blissful adjective to describe your marriage. Or any positive adjective, for that matter. Even as the comfort of sitting next to him or sharing meals increased; or how he casually draped your legs over his lap, massaging your calves while he typed murderous decrees on his phone. 

The word domestic echoed in your head often, but you drowned it in screams of his victims, gunshots, Steve’s cold and sinister commands. 

You shouldn’t feel at ease and comfortable around the devil who kept you chained to him. You gave yourself a pass for enjoying mindmelting orgasms, it was a small reward for your suffering, but you wouldn’t let yourself get accustomed to being a wife. Not to Steve. 

So you pretended to be only mildly annoyed when he strolled into your office one day, bringing lunch as if he was a normal loving spouse, and announcing that you’ll be hosting a dinner at home. For the mayor and his wife. To his credit, Steve didn’t imply you had to be the one preparing said dinner. Having a chef was another benefit of your doom. But the expectation of playing the sweet wife and hostess to the corrupted pair of a politician and socialite made your blood boil.

Or maybe it was the fact that mayor’s wife was one of the few women Pepper confirmed to have been fucking Steve in the past.

No, you told yourself as you put on the soul stone necklace when preparing for said dinner. You didn’t care who he sank his cock into. You didn’t care, if he returned to that and left you in peace. 

But your conviction shattered to sharp, jagged pieces when mayor’s wife made obvious moves at your husband, with her own fucking husband sitting right there at the table! 

You were appalled. By her rudeness, of course. 

Mayor played a clueless idiot, probably too scared of Steve to fight for honor. Or maybe he was actually gaining something from having his wife almost drop to her knees and swallow Steve’s cock whole. You played indifference, because why should you care? 

So maybe your knife and fork scraped against the plate so loud that everyone at the table cringed in pain, when the mayor’s wife briefly touched Steve’s arm and mentioned missing their passionate art discussions. It was nothing. Just a spasm in your hand. And you gulping down half of your wine glass all unladylike was because you needed to soothe an itch in your throat, not because the floozy licked her lips and made a suggestion Steve should go with her to the new exhibition. 

Though Steve hadn’t replied to Miliana’s advances, focusing on the not so subtle business talk with her husband, he didn’t refuse her either. Which made you want to reach for the knife he had custom made for you and stab him with it, when later that night he had the audacity to touch you. 

Steve merely chuckled, absolutely amused. Mockingly asked if you were jealous. Which you were not! 

Tension slowly dropped after that, as days passed and you haven’t seen that skank’s face. Unexpectedly, however, the mayor requested an official visit to the center. It was a short one, a half an hour so the press could write about his interest in healthcare and supporting new community focused projects. You also suspected he wanted to kiss Steve’s ass.

You didn’t have a reason to deny him, especially since the press would also mention the center and new projects, which would be helpful. It was even better, because he came only with some of his office staff, no wife at his side. 

But then, just as you were breathing in relief that the circus was almost over, the mayor had the balls to invite himself over to your house for dinner the upcoming weekend. 

In true political bullshit manipulation, saying how his wife loved your chef’s scallops and couldn’t wait to taste them again and how your house provided comfort to talk business with your husband. 

At this point, you were wondering if the slimy asshole was a cuckold. 

He was bending backwards just to give his own wife an opportunity to touch your fucking husband. Maybe he really was into that. Maybe he wanted to watch. Maybe you should’ve vomited when you relayed the request to Steve and he shrugged that he’s free Saturday evening: if the greedy idiot wants to crawl begging for more scraps. 

Your appetite evaporated, as you spent days fuming at the prospect of another weird dinner when a shameless woman would be drooling after Steve while you were sitting there right opposite of her, in your own damn home. 

No, this time you wouldn’t stand for it. You would make Miliana associate your house with something most unpleasant. And a small vial stolen from one of the medicine cabinets at the center was going to help you with that.

It was surprisingly easy, really. It should shock you how calm you were as you prepared for the dinner; how a soft smile graced your lips as you set the table while the chef prepared delicious food. But now that determination guided your hand through the plan, earlier fiery aggravation melted away. 

Briefly, you wondered if the same calm took over Steve when he took lives. 

You shook that thought away, since you weren’t attempting to kill anyone. Though when a memory of her hand on Steve’s arm flashed in your mind, your fingers itched to grab a knife. 

Applying a little drop to the bottom of a crystal glass and another on the rim, smearing it along, you felt an odd kind of satisfaction unfurl in your chest. There was no hesitation, no worry about potential mix-up. No, you were certain Miliana would once again seat on Steve’s left. Just like the last time. It was cunning, since it appeared all innocent - her sitting on her husband’s right, just you were sitting on your husband’s right, the men facing each other. 

Your smile widened when the couple entered your dining room and sat exactly like you predicted. Politely fake conversation flew as the chef brought out first dish and his assistant poured wine into glasses. 

The scallops tasted even more delicious, in your opinion. Especially when after a few sips of wine the mayor’s wife had to quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. 

Few minutes later the mayor’s phone vibrated, which led to him frowning at the screen and excusing himself as well - undoubtedly to aid his wife. When he walked back into the dining room a while later, he looked nervous and embarrassed, paler too.

“My apologies. It appears my wife and I have to leave promptly, it was unplanned, but can’t be avoided.” 

You made a sound of worried pity, but continued to cut into your own food and eating it without an ounce of genuine distraught. Steve arched a brow in surprise, but nodded his head, which seemed to bring the mayor immense relief. The man was more scared of offending Steve than for his wife’s health. 

It was less than a minute when you heard their car take off from the driveway. The sound of it and the fact they were no longer polluting the space of your home pleased you greatly. 

“Mhm, these scallops are really delicious,” you hummed, licking your fork. 

“Princess,” Steve tuned the petname in a sing-song tone. “What did you do?”

Slowly, you looked his way. He didn’t seem angry, nor worried. He angled his body towards you, propping one elbow on the table and drumming his fingers in a steady rhythm. He wasn’t asking if it was your doing, he already knew. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t permanently damage one of your mistresses. She’s just gonna spend a day or two glued to the toilet.” You snorted, clenching your fingers around the fork. “But maybe next time she’ll reconsider coming into the house where your wife lives.”

Dark gleam flickered over Steve’s ice blue eyes. 

He leaned forward, moving his hands to grip the edge of your chair and yanked it at an angle toward him. Your legs were between his, his hands gripping the sides of your chair, veins protruding in his forearms as his muscles tensed.

“Your possessiveness gets me hard.” He chuckled darkly.

“I’m not possessive!” You objected immediately, crossing your hands over your chest. 

“You demanded I marry you, the ruthless fucking king of the underworld. So now you have to deal with having a wife. And your reluctant queen won’t stand for any more humiliation.” You spat the last part, boldly leaning forward and glaring at him with all the accumulated hatred. 

“Princess,” Steve inched even closer, not the least bothered by your outburst. Quite the opposite, he appeared to love it. “My dick hasn’t even twitched for any other woman, since I tasted your lips. There’s no pleasure in standing their fake, exaggerated despair, when I have your sweet pussy so responsive to my darkness…”

Your retort died on your tongue when suddenly one of Steve’s hands gripped your chin.

“Now-” he tightened his pinch on your chin, his voice smoothly transforming into a cold warning. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.” 

“Miliana doesn’t have enough spunk and her husband is too much of a scaredy wimp to retaliate in any form.” He showed zero empathy toward them. “But there are eels and sharks swimming around us and some of them would dare to bite back.”

Holding your chin, Steve forced you to lean closer. His breath tickled your mouth as he inched forward, as well.

“And if anyone dared to put a finger on you, it would end in a bloodbath.”

Only Steve could make a psychopathic threat sound like a seductive, velvet vow of a lover.

Your brain screamed that it was wrong, that you should be disgusted by his words and scared of how easily it came to him to take lives. Yet your insides filled with heat, one spreading through your chest and a wave of it pooling low in your abdomen.

“Don’t go on a murder spree, because of some macho obligation.” You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You. Are. Mine, Princess.” Steve punctuated each word with a brush of his lips against yours. “To harm or disrespect you means to hurt or disrespect me. I have no mercy for those. I would cut off the limb, with which they hurt you, and carve out their intestines. Then fuck you while their blood pools at your feet.”

“That’s disgusting,” with how breathy you sounded, your claim felt like a lie.

One that Steve read right away.

“It turns you on.” He chuckled, grinning. 

“I know that you get so wet from the scary, unhinged things that I do.” His other hand slapped your knees apart.

“I’m not-” you frowned, ready to deny that as well. Even though your body was already primed for him.

Words went forgotten when Steve picked you in a swift move and deposited you in his lap. The hand on your chin moved to grip the front of your neck; the cool sensation of his rings digging into your soft skin made you gasp. The sound nearly stopped in your throat, because he tightened his grip. And it made your arousal burst stronger.

His right hand ventured between your spread thighs. His fingers easily slipped beneath the flimsy fabric of your underwear and teased your slick folds.

“Soaked.” Steve triumphed, running the ring-adorned knuckle of his index finger up and down between your folds. “Sweet, good-hearted Princess who lives to help people, cumming on her brutal husband’s weapons and cock.” 

The mere mention of his thick cock made your pussy pulse. The image of his gun and of the knife sliding along your skin and pressed so close to your most sensitive areas caused a shiver to rock your whole body.

Steve chuckled at your body’s reaction. He laced kisses and licks along your jaw, continuing to tease your cunt.

“As for you wanting to be a queen at my side…” he sucked your earlobe lewdly, making you moan. 

“Do you know what a queen’s role is?” He whispered right into your ear before pulling back slightly.

“To stand fierce and unbending beside her king.” He withdrew his hand, kissing your lips when you pouted at the loss of delicious stimulation. Fingers sticky with your slick, he ran his palm up your belly and over your breast. Then to your arm. 

“And to give him an heir.”

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as his wet fingers circled your arm, thumb pressing right over where your contraceptive implant was hidden beneath your skin. 

“Are you ready for that, Princess?” He asked, rubbing the spot in sinfully slow circles, as he would do your clit. “Are you ready to take out this little implant and let me breed you properly?” 

Your brain was too scrambled, even though Steve barely touched you, really. The adrenaline from poisoning a woman who dared to flirt with your husband mixed with desire that the fucker so easily ignited in you. 

The unexpected mention of impregnation? In that dark, raw way only your husband dared to speak to you? For a short moment your mind simply stopped working.

“No!” You clenched your eyes, letting the last remnants of reason fight against the threat. 

Steve didn’t seem perturbed by your refusal. Perhaps it wasn’t even something he was interested in, just another means to torment you with and make you yield to his command. 

“Until then, you remain my Princess.” He declared, cutting off your airflow for a few seconds and taking possession of your mouth. 

When he let you breathe again, you felt dizzy and pliant. Your own hands clenched on his shoulders as Steve stood up abruptly. He kicked the chair away and placed you on the dining table. 

Plates and wine glasses tumbled over, food and wine spilling across the tablecloth and dripping down on the floor. You felt the sticky wetness soaking into your back as Steve splayed you on the table, but you didn’t care. Not when he was holding you down by your throat with one hand and ripping your soaked underwear with the other. 

Then there was the sound of a zipper and Steve’s low, sexy groan as he gripped his hard cock and stroked it a few times. 

Steve held your gaze as he tapped his dick against your pulsing clit and then nudged it into your opening. A needy whine vibrated in your throat, tempting the fingers around your neck to squeeze just a tad tighter. 

He slammed into you in one stroke; dark victory flamed in his eyes as your body jerked and your pussy clamped around him. 

Buried to the hilt, with his hand around your throat and the other holding your leg bent and pressed against your chest, Steve looked down at you. Danger pulsed off of him like a dark aura, reminding you how defenceless you were.

“Don’t ever fucking endanger what’s mine.” He warned.

You glared at him, indignant at being referred to as his. But then he snapped his hips back and into you again, and your ire flowed into brain short-circuiting pleasure. 

“My good, depraved Princess.” Steve praised, fucking you hard. “Creaming around my cock so prettily.” 

You fisted the tablecloth, mewling as each of his thrust drove you closer to the peak. It was so rough, so raw and based on urges you never considered yourself to have. You hated it. Hated Steve. Hated what he made you into. And you screamed his name as you came.

[worshipthecrow]

"Meeting the parents"

Summary: You received a call from your mother while you were with Sylus, your parents want to meet your boyfriend.

Content: Sylusx Female! Reader, Reader is exaggerating the situation in her head, death threats.

A/n: I introduced Sylus to my parents with the tete-a-tete function and more or less the things that happened are portrayed here, some comments were made after explaining them the whole game and stuff. English is not my first language, if you find any mistakes, let me know so I can correct them.

One, two, three breaths you took before opening the door and stepping inside with your heart pounding in your chest and cold sweat on your back, Sylus was waiting for you to return from your phone call.

His shirt half open and his lips swollen from the long kissing session would be a hot and inviting sight if it weren’t for your mother’s voice booming in your brain.

We want to meet him, you’ve been with him for how long? A year? And you still haven’t brought him home, if that was a lie don’t worry honey, my friend’s son is still single and very handsome.

Your mother’s playful tone made you frown, you exchanged a few more words and hung up the phone.

He smiled sideways at you, waiting for you to sit back on his lap to continue.

“Hey…” you didn’t let him finish when the words came out of your mouth like a suppressed cough, fast and violent “

“My parents want to meet you”

You noticed the slight change in his gaze and posture, but then he relaxed again, held out his hand for you to take, which you did without thinking because of habit, and making you sit on his lap, tangling his finger in a lock of your hair.

“When?” a simple question, you expected more, maybe nervousness, maybe that he would refuse, but there was only one question.

Why don’t you bring him tonight? I’m making pork ribs, your favorite, it would be a good time to meet him.

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order said sweetly with a little threat.

“Tonight” you whispered, he hummed caressing the skin on your arm, nervousness didn’t let you enjoy the sweet touch.

“All right, if that’s what you want, sweetie” you let out a heavy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

And for the rest of the afternoon, it was you, stressed to the bone that what would happen in this inevitable disaster, someone would die, and you hoped it would be you, just to get away from this situation.

Sylus took you to your parents’ house on his motorcycle, you would have preferred to go by car, taking advantage of the traffic to get ready or to fake an emergency, but no, the way was too short and fast and now that you were in front of the door you wanted to vomit your guts on the floor.

It was he who rang the doorbell, just long enough to be heard but not annoying, the door was opened by your mother, the image was endearing, the chubby little woman greeted the two of you with a sweet smile letting you in, she still had her apron on, wet and you guessed she was washing the utensils she used to cook.

Your father was in the living room, you noticed the tiny sauce stain on his shoe, and you knew that today, of all days, would be the worst day of your life, nothing good came out of it when your father was helping your mother cook.

Your mother called everyone to the dining room, your stomach was doing somersaults, you walked stiffly to your seat, Sylus, out of habit, opened the chair for you to sit down and then sat next to you.

Your mother served your plate first, as always, the smell of the ribs, that delicious smell that always made your mouth water made you feel the worst nausea you had ever experienced in your life.

You watched her prepare your father’s dish, and the familiar fight of “one more” “no, the doctor said to watch your cholesterol” took some of the tension out of the situation, but knowing that the next dish to be served would be Sylus’ only reminded you of the chaos that was about to unfold, you prayed to any god that was willing to listen to you even though you had never been devoted to any of them.

Your mother took the plate placed two ribs and you held your breath as your mom’s voice came through your ears like the scream of a banshee.

“So, Sylus, what do you do for a living?” the smack of the mashed potatoes against the plate almost made you squeal.

“I run a family-owned business that covers a range of services and offers various products. We deliver fruit and even sell state-of-the-art technology and I work with a lot of talented individuals. If you’reinterested, I’d be happy to discuss it in more detail another time.”

You buried your fingernails in your thigh, the way your father bit into the rib meat made your heart stop for a second and the look on your mother’s face didn’t make you feel any better either, you slowly chewed the tender juicy meat, feeling it like lead in your mouth.

“And what do you do in your spare time?” your father’s piercing gaze said he wanted to give him a shot between the eyebrows, too bad that wouldn’t work, you knew it too well.

“My hobbies are very simple. I collect vynil records, play the organ, and occasionally sing. According to your daughter, my singing isn’t too bad.” The sideways smile made you blush as you shoved mashed potatoes in your mouth and avoided the zucchini from the boiled vegetables. “Do you like to sing? If so. You’re always welcome to visit my private karaoke bar.”

“Do you live with anyone? Your family?”

You bit into the carrot so hard that your teeth hurt.

“I live alone and I have a relatively flexible schedule” you blushed and drank from your pomegranate juice as your mother looked sideways at you, you knew what was going through her head. “I stay at my base most of the time. Otherwise, I’m in a hotel for business meetings or go to my private ranch when I need to unwind.”

Sylus smiled softly, and you swallowed saliva admiring how his factions softened.

“I own several beautiful horses, and one of them has grown particularly fond of your daughter. The two of them offer frolic together at the ranch. I like seeing her be carefree and happy” you held back a surprised gasp at his words, you needed to scream, preferably at your best friend, as you melted into a puddle of mush, that was too sweet, ugh. “… if I might ask, are either of you interested in shooting or racing?”

Now you wanted to scream, but out of hysteria, even though you were a wanderer hunter it’s not like your parents were too happy about it when they expected you to be something else, like a doctor, a lawyer, even a teacher, gun handling was always a constant discussion when you lived with them and expressed your desire to be a hunter.

“I have licensed facilities filled with the necessary equipment. You’re welcome to enjoy them to your heart’s content, while it might not be obvious at first glance, I’m very good at taking care of people”

You decided to concentrate on your plate, while eating, you blinked for a couple of seconds noticing something strange but ignored it in favor of continuing eating your pork ribs.

“Because of our time together, I developed new interests. I enjoy taking her to auctions and fashion shows, I like seeing her shine, And her happiness is my happiness”

Your heart stopped at the softness of voice, you wanted to cry in his arms and tell him you loved him, but that would be too dramatic at a family dinner and you could do that when you got back to his house in the N109 Zone.

“What about the future, hmm?” everyone had finished as they spoke, you felt a lump in your throat hard to swallow, what about the future indeed, you squeezed your glass as you took a swig.

“I’ll always support her with whatever she wants to do. I’ll also stand by her side without question”

The Table was silent for a few seconds while your father picked up the dirty dishes and your mother took something out of the refrigerator, you recognized the pot immediately, you had seen it so many times during birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas and New Year.

You got up and opened a drawer and took out a plate and helped your mother unmold the flan, the color of the caramel reminded you of your childhood, when on your birthday your mother made a small mold just for you, of Christmas fighting with your older brother for the last slice, which in the end you shared sitting on the floor playing on the console.

It had been so long since you had eaten your mother’s flan, that seeing it now was just a balm for your stressed heart.

You left the plate with the flan on the table carefully, your mother took the knife out of a drawer and returned to the table to cut it.

“Everything you said was very nice Sylus” your mother’s voice gave you a shiver that went all the way down your spine to the back of your neck. “But alas for you where you hurt her, I don’t want to see her cry because of you, because I swear every time you go out you are going to have to watch your back, because if I have to, I will disappear you and no one will ever find you, was I clear enough?”

The sight was hilarious, your mother, the short woman, shorter than you in fact, was threatening the leader of Onychinus with a kitchen knife shiny from the caramel for having cut the flan, with a sweet smile as she offered him the plate with the dessert.

Sylus wasn’t expecting it at all from the look of utter surprise on his face, accepting the plate with a sideways smile.

“Like crystal” he replied softly and your mother smiled again as she handed out the plates, you breathed easy that she hadn’t stabbed him, your father poured the coffee, you put sugar and milk in yours.

The rest passed relatively quietly, lighter conversations and your father constantly telling you to take care of yourself on your missions and your mother reminding you that you could always come home if you decided to quit your job.

After finishing dessert and coffee your father took you to the garage, saying he had something to show you, you followed him thinking it would be some new car he was repairing, or a modified motorcycle, but no, he sat in his folding chair and you sat next to him, nervous about leaving Sylus and your mother alone for too long, you didn’t know if she would try to stab him in the back.

“Does he treat you well?” your father looked at you with his dark eyes, the ones you had inherited, and you nodded.

“He does”

“He seems nice, and he has money” you nodded, uncomfortable about that last “I was worried, when he said he stayed in hotels, that he worked with “individuals”, I thought he would cheat on you” your heart pounded in your chest, you once had that same thought but the fact that Sylus would always answer your calls, messages no matter the time or place removed those doubts a long time ago, “but then, he started eating the zucchini off your plate when you put them aside and the looks, he looked at you like you were the moon, like you put the sun in the sky, it gave me diabetes”

And you laughed, so hard that you threw your head back as you laughed at the top of your lungs, you laughed until your stomach hurt and your father looked at you like you were insane even though he was smiling subtly.

Sylus appeared a few moments later as you were catching your breath, your cheek half numb.

“Your mother wants you to help her dry the dishes”

You got up from your chair and walked towards the door, when Sylus turned to follow you your father called him to talk to him, you looked at him and nodded, you weren’t worried, if your mother didn’t try to kill him your father wouldn’t either, you went to the kitchen and your mother greeted you with a cloth to dry the dishes and you waited.

“I like him” she said “I like that he talked about you like that, he almost doesn’t seem real” you snorted under your breath, wondering what the two of them must have said while you were gone. “Better than your exes, definitely”

You groaned, remembering that your closest group of friends from high school still called your ex from that time “evil cockroach”, and still laughed at his love misfortunes when they got to hear something about him, you were fine staying out of it, but your mean side also felt satisfaction when it turned out that his last girlfriend had dumped him.

“He has everything you like as well, music lover, animal lover, and I am relieved to know he has gun licenses, that means he will always be able to take care of you and you will have good weapons for your missions” your mother dried the flan pot and put it back in its special drawer.

“The hunters association provides us with enough guns” although you weren’t going to deny that the Harrier 700’s were your favorite.

“He’s very much in love with you” your mother evaded the subject of your job, as always, you knew her stance on your safety and the many times you had been scolded over the phone when you were in the hospital was reminder enough “tie him up”

“Mom!” you shouted, shocked, you knew she meant ‘marry him’ but with Sylus it could be very literal that matter.

“What? You would have cute babies” you covered your face in embarrassment, leaving the plate you were drying on the counter so as not to throw it on the floor “and he has nice buttocks”

“MOM!” you shouted in a high pitched voice, definitely embarrassed and your mother laughed at you, you were aware of Sylus’ attributes, but you didn’t want to discuss them with your mother.

“He hides things doesn’t he?” you nodded, calmer at the change of subject, although it wasn’t something you wanted to discuss either, you continued drying the plates and glasses. “But you know what it is?” another nod from you “Well, as long as you know it’s okay, but I don’t want to get you out of prison”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, aware of the approval your parents were giving, your mother a little too enthusiastic, your mother and you finished drying the dishes just as Sylus and your father were coming back in.

The goodbye was better than the welcome and without the stress you felt tired all at once, you wanted to go back and sleep for the next week.

With a last hug to your mother and the mortification that she gave you a condom, you rode up behind Sylus on the bike and hugged him around the waist until you returned home.

You threw yourself on the bed, ready to accomplish your desires, Sylus pulled off your pants as you grunted and tucked you under the blanket, then lay down behind you, brushing your face with something, you opened your eyes and ripped the platinum package from his fingers and threw it on the nightstand, you cursed your mother.

“Don’t even think about laughing” you said through your teeth.

“You are kinda like your mom, she’s the one in charge isn’t she?” you sighed and laid on your back.

“Yeah, my dad has a bad temper, but my mom is the one in charge, if she says do it you do it” you saw his sideways grin.

“It runs in the family I guess, you’re bossy too, Kitten” he kissed your neck and even though you wanted to get mad you couldn’t, you were tired and wanted to sleep, until…

“What did you and my mom talk about?” The kissing stopped and Sylus lay back, towering over you resting his head in his palm and his elbow on the pillow.

“Your past relationships and veiled threats disguised as funny comments, who is ‘the evil cockroach’?”

“Ugh, my chronically unfaithful ex” you shrugged “that would be a better story to tell when you meet my friends, they make it funnier”

“Oh, so I’ll meet the group too?” the comment had come out of nowhere, but if you introduced him to your parents, who you were most worried about them meeting, your friends should be easier no?

“I guess so, although I’ll have to arrange the meeting when we’re all free” you were already getting a slight headache just thinking about squaring schedules so you could set up a meeting.

“I’ll be available whenever you want” you smiled softly at him, you were too grateful that he seconded you on all the things you wanted to do, whether they were ridiculously childish or not.

“I’ll talk to them tomorrow, now I want to sleep” you turned in bed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down and put your face in the crook of his neck, Sylus wrapped his arms around your waist as he gently stroked your back.

You drifted off to sleep, as you thought about the best way to tell your friends that you wanted them to meet your mysterious boyfriend you talked about all the time. Maybe something like…

“Hey, do you guys want to meet my boyfriend?”

Yeah, that might be nice.

[emsdevs]

A Luke Hughes hurt/comfort during a bad injury during the Hughes bowl and his brothers being worried

a/n: nonnie I'm so so sorry for the wait! this is so short, and it's definitely not my best work so I'm sorry for that as well 😭 I hope you still like it and if not feel free to come back and request something else and I'll try my best to deliver on that one

masterlist

Hughes Bowl Injuries

The hit was completely clean, but they could tell from the way Luke hit the ice that something was wrong. He had tried to catch himself, landing strangely on his wrist. He lay on the ice a moment longer than he usually would have, clutching his left wrist in his right hand. It wasn’t long before Quinn and Jack huddled together near the benches, talking through their worries for their younger brother, knowing being in his space right now wouldn’t help.

Soon, he was helped off the ice, and the two boys watched their brother walk down the tunnel to meet with the trainers and medical staff. It had been the start of the third period, so unfortunately, the older brothers had to stay to finish the game. The game ended not too long after, and Quinn couldn’t even pretend to care about the loss his team just took. He skipped out on heading straight to his locker room, making his way toward the Devils’ locker room. There, he found Luke surrounded by medical staff and teammates sitting nearby, waiting to celebrate their win until they found out more about Luke’s condition. Their parents arrived soon and made their way to where Jack had just joined Quinn. They inform their parents that nothing official has been said yet, and the two older Hughes brothers stand close to one another, trying to keep their composure but knowing they are both worried sick for their baby brother.

Eventually, the medical staff left Luke’s bubble and went to talk to the coaches about his condition. His family cautiously walked up to him, worried about his state, physically and mentally. “How’re ya feeling, bud?” Jack was the first to speak.

“They said my wrist is broken. I’ll need surgery, and I’ll be out for a couple of months,” Luke sniffled as he spoke, clearly disappointed by the news.“It’ll be okay, hun,” Ellen says softly as she sits down next to him. His father swiftly sits on his other side, and Jack kneels down in front of him. Quinn takes a second longer, fighting to keep his anger down, knowing it was someone on his team who hurt his baby brother, but soon he’s knelt beside Jack. The family takes time to try to comfort Luke, hoping to lift his spirits at least a little bit. They knew he would hurt for a while, emotionally and physically, but soon, they’d have their cheerful brother back. They’d just have to help him a little bit.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @one-sweet-gubler

join the taglist

[daeniradraconis]

Banter Between the Lines - Hughes Brothers

Author's Note: Hey, so here’s another quick chat-style piece! I haven’t had much time to sit down and write properly lately, so short and sweet it is for now. 😊 Feel free to send me some requests if you’d like! (You can check out the "rules" here: link). I can’t promise when I’ll get to them, but I’ll definitely find time soon.

Summary: A little fluff with a touch of smut (nothing too crazy, just some extra flirting). Quinn’s girlfriend roasts the boys while calling them out in their group chat.

Warnings: Nothing major, just some mention of 🍆.

It was one of those quiet Sunday nights where everything felt slow. You'd spent the evening catching up on your favorite shows, but it was hard to concentrate when all you could think about was Quinn. The constant distance between you two had become harder to ignore with each passing day, and as much as you loved how happy he was with his team, you missed him. And, truthfully, you missed the whole family.

You’d gotten close to Jack and Luke over the years, and now, with Quinn playing for the Vancouver Canucks and Jack and Luke together on the New Jersey Devils, the family dynamic felt a little more spread out than you liked. Sure, they’d all make time for you when they could, but it wasn’t the same as those days when you’d all hang out together.

Tonight, instead of a call or a quick text, you decided to turn to something a little more familiar. You opened up youtube and searched for their latest highlights.

All three of them were struggling on the ice, and it showed. It hurt to see them like this, especially when you couldn’t do much to help. So you did what you always did in times like these—opened the group chat and prepared to roast them into oblivion. If nothing else, it might make them laugh.

you: just finished your highlights. Quinn, congrats on being the saddest guy on the ice again 🥇. Jack, loved the mini tantrum energy 👏. Luke, did you forget which team you play for? because those turnovers were next-level.

Jack: wow, you really woke up and chose violence.

you: always. someone has to keep you humble.

Luke: humble? this feels more like a personal attack.

Quinn: what would you call it, then?

Luke: bullying.

you: oh, Lukey, don’t take it so hard. I tease because I care 💕

Jack: you literally plotted my ex’s demise last month. is that “caring” too?

you: first of all, it wasn’t a plot. it was more of a… fantasy.

Quinn: putting her in the ground “while she’s still breathing” doesn’t sound like a fantasy…

you: listen, if she hadn’t been such a manipulative little snake, I wouldn’t have had to consider it 🐍

Luke: terrifying. but honestly? fair.

Jack: I could’ve handled her myself, you know.

you: oh, really? because from where I was sitting, she had you wrapped around her finger like a puppet.

Quinn: she’s not wrong!

Jack: whose side are you on?

Quinn: hers. always.

you: damn right honey. and don’t worry, I’m not plotting her demise anymore… unless she tries to come back. then all bets are off.

Jack: remind me to never date again. you’re scarier than Quinn’s slap shot.

You grinned as the banter flew back and forth, but your focus shifted to Luke. His disastrous date still didn’t sit right with you.

you: okay, but seriously, Lukey. I've heard some gossip. how does a girl ditch you mid-dinner? you’re literally the sweetest human alive.

Luke: THANK YOU! finally, someone gets it.

Jack: don’t encourage him. he needs to toughen up.

you: excuse me? let him be sweet! not every guy needs to have your level of 'I’m too cool for feelings,' Jack.

Quinn: valid point.

Luke: thank you, Quinn.

you: honestly, Luke, I’ll never understand how she left. did you say something weird?

Luke: no!!! I was perfectly normal.

Quinn: “normal” is a stretch…

Jack: is this really the same guy who told a girl on a first date he’d make six different accounts just to sort himself into Hufflepuff six different times because he didn’t 'trust the algorithm'?

Luke: OKAY, THAT’S DIFFERENT. I was being honest!

you: oh, Lukey. you’re lucky you’re adorable because that is painful 😂

Luke: this is why I didn’t want to tell you guys.

Quinn: bro, it’s fine. just embrace the awkward puppy vibe. it’s clearly your brand.

Luke: I hate you.

Jack: ugh, why does he get the sympathy? roast him more guys!!! I can’t be the only one taking L’s here.

you: because Luke doesn’t put ketchup on his eggs like a serial killer, Jack.

Luke: yeah, what is WRONG with you? ketchup on eggs? really?

Jack: you people are so dramatic. it’s normal.

Quinn: nothing about that is normal.

you: thank you, Quinn. once again, the only rational person in this chat.

Jack: stop flirting with my brother. it’s disgusting.

Luke: seriously. I can feel the weird vibes through my phone.

You smirked, knowing exactly how to push their buttons.

you: you’re just mad because Quinn’s risotto is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

Quinn: best risotto AND lasagna. don’t forget!

you: how could I? it’s the only reason I keep you around. And of course your magic 🍆

Quinn: oh, not my sparkling personality? btw you're objectifying my body...

you: hmm… maybe that too. but i have my priorities straight!

Jack: 🤢 STOP. this is disgusting.

Luke: seriously. this is TMI guys!!

you: just jealous, you two can’t even scramble eggs properly.

Quinn: cooking skills = key to a woman’s heart.

Luke: ugh. golden child strikes again.

Jack: some of us don’t need to cook because we have charisma, thank you very much.

Quinn: does your charisma excuse ketchup on eggs? because it shouldn’t.

Luke: still the biggest red flag in this chat.

Jack: Y’ALL ARE SO DRAMATIC.

You smiled at their bickering, your heart full, untouched by their chaos.

you: okay, but for real… I miss you guys 💔.

Luke: aww, finally some love.

Jack: are you feeling okay?!

you: don’t get used to it. but yeah, I miss you. Quinn, risotto night when you’re home! Jack and Luke, you can come eat it too.

Quinn: deal. but I’m ignoring them for the first hour I’m back. i need my time with you!

Luke: RUDE!

Jack: gross. is this the flirting portion of the chat? can we not?

you: love you too, boys. even if you’re disasters.

Jack: love you too. now stop flirting with Quinn before I puke.

Luke: seriously. save it for your own chat.

Quinn: jealousy doesn’t look good on you two.

Luke: jealous of what? your cooking? maybe. your 🍆? absolutely not.

you: you should be Lukey! your brother got some great 🍆

Jack: I’m OUT.

Luke: same.

Quinn: good job hon. guess it’s just us now. you: just how I like it 😘

[nmr0709]

Lucid dreaming

Aka Caleb's standard myth

Spoilers:

First off- why did every myth not have a satisfactory ending?! Infold, you'll put every single girl in depression. I wasn't over Sylus's dragon myth and then this?

Onto main-

MC visits Skyhaven, for a mission with Farspace fleet .

Caleb is super smart. Hell, he'll give even Dr.Zayne a run for his money. Fucking sly fox this guy is.

He guesses her purpose, invites him over to his place.

Beautiful house. Beautiful place.

Long story short, he's nominated as a new Commander of Tuum fleet, with the previous commander and soldiers being placed under him. MC is there to investigate this and he gives her the files for clearance.

MC notices that things ain't adding up. People who were hostile, after medical examination are now docile. Before she can catch one person, Caleb comes in with food and tells her he has a meeting.

Caleb- knows MC better than she knows herself. And has planned down 20 steps ahead of her. Never give this man chess to play. He'll wreck everyone hands down.

Cue MC snooping around( again) and getting caught( again). Really girl? Really? Why the hell .... There's a reason you're on field and never in covert ops..but Pls Learn Subtlety

She manages to steal a chip and access his files before being revoked access and Caleb confronts her. Says either you be happy and stay out of this mess or I'll be dragged to HQ and questioned.

At this point- Caleb is shady af. Like so shady he makes Sylus pale in comparison.

Next up mega banquet to celebrate Caleb's promotion.

Caleb is attacked by the previously demoted colonel and company, he sends MC away to safety while he deals with them.

Guy has no qualms about manipulating her just so she can stay safe?! Like red flag but also green?

MC waiting for him realises she's been duped, and self implants a chip without him knowing.

The man that he is- goes to her- tells her she is his forever- and faints in her arms.

Guy is scary fine but absolutely down for her. Like yandere tendencies and controlling and possesive...gurl you down bad for him? It's toxic but...idk at this point. She enables him a lot ngl

Next- Caleb faints, has a seizure, and loses all his memories thanks to his chip

MC- she plays him and tells him he is hers. Gives no in lination of telling him anything about his lost memories. ( GURLL WHATT?!!)

They go to an amusement park- she faints thanks to her chip- turns out Caleb had all his memories and was playing her.

What in the 5D chess is this??!! Caleb my man. My amazing hunk of revived corpse and flesh. Wut. I'm shook. But very very impressed with your tactics ngl. Extremely well played.

MC is taken to infirmary to get her chip removed forcefully - she will lose her memories but will retain some recall of it.

cue her throwing a fit- refusing it- Caleb somehow convincing her ( slight gaslighting?)

She's done with him. Removes his tie and coat.

Those bite marks on his hand? Hers. Apparently he gives her his hand everytime she's sick so that she doesn't accidently bite her own tongue off. ( So sweet man but don't distract me)

MC is ultimately forced to have the chip removed. Has little recollection of ehatvexactly happened on Skyhaven. And goes back.

End note-

Infold I will curate every single myth and play it on loop till you cry.

Point is- amazing amazing portrayal of Caleb and backstory. Human experimentation for the ultimate weapon, Caleb being chosen and put through it( not all details revealed yet in myth) , him being forced to give up his emotions and humanity and yet, he never forgets MC.

Caleb is the walking red flag of LADS but.. idk even at this point. Guy's like the morally grey character with a solid backstory and reasoning for it. Can't wait for more.

To the fans thinking Sylus is a red flag? Brothers and sisters, compared to this Bucky Barnes inspired persona, he's a green forest.

More on analysis and emo dump later.

Toodaloo!! And thanks for reading this monster of a post.

[pinkslipxox]

Hey! I have a goofy one for you. Bilie x reader. Reader is on her period, and her emotions are all over the place, and one thing you need to know is that she can sometimes get a bit emotional while on her period. Billie says something silly that upsets the reader making her cry. And of course billie didn't mean to at all. She felt so bad for making her girl upset, she's feels a little stupid because she completely forgot how sensitive the reader became while on her period. But billie makes up for it by giving reader plenty of cuddles and kisses but not without reader refusing them at first being stubborn 🥹

hey my love! Ugh yes ofc! Hope you like it 🥰❤️

——————————————————————————

You're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, your body curled into a tight ball. The cramps hit harder this month, and despite your best efforts to hide it, the discomfort creeps into your mood. You can feel the tears welling up, and it isn't long before you start to feel overwhelmed by a wave of emotion that seems to come out of nowhere.

Billie enters the room, her hair cascading around her shoulders, a gentle smile on her lips as she carries a mug of steaming tea. She notices the frown etched on your face, and immediately her brows furrow with concern.

“Hey, pretty girl,” she calls softly, her voice like a balm against the chaos in your head. “What’s going on?”

You sigh deeply, trying to muster a smile for her. “Just cramps,” you whisper, your voice small.

In true Billie fashion, she tries to lighten the mood. “You know what they say about periods?” she begins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “They’re just your body’s way of saying, ‘I’m not pregnant!’”

You can’t help but chuckle at her classic dry humor, but the laughter is short-lived. As you try to hold back a snort, a wave of emotion crashes over you, and you suddenly feel the well of tears spilling over. You don’t even understand why you’re feeling this way, but the laughter only amplifies the ache in your chest.

Billie’s playful demeanor drops in an instant; her heart sinks as she sees the tears streaming down your face. “Oh no, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she rushes over, dropping the mug on the table and wrapping her arms around you. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s okay,” you mumble through your tears, sniffling. “It wasn’t you. I just… it’s just a lot right now.”

She cradles you tighter, her fingers gently brushing back your hair. “You’re so strong, mama. I know this time of month can be really tough. Just let it all out; I’m here for you.”

You feel her soft kisses peppering your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids. Each one is full of love, full of understanding, and slowly the warmth of her affection begins to soothe you. You giggle shyly, even as tears mix with laughter. “Billie, stop it! You’re too sweet.”

“I can’t help it,” she replies, her voice teasing yet tender. “I just want to make you smile.”

Pulling back slightly, she holds your face in her hands, looking deep into your eyes. “You’re beautiful, even when you’re feeling like this. I love you, Y/N.”

You see the sincerity in her eyes, and your heart swells with affection. “I love you too, Billie.”

“Okay, how about we binge-watch that show you love? I’ll grab some snacks and keep you cozy,” she says cheerfully, getting up to fetch the remote.

As she moves, you feel lighter, the dark clouds of your emotions slowly parting with each passing moment. When she returns and settles you against her side, enveloped in her warmth, you relax fully.

Billie nudges you playfully. “And next time I’ll save my jokes for another time, promise.”

You snuggle deeper into her embrace, her gentle fingers tracing patterns on your back, melting the last bits of tension away. In this little cocoon of comfort, you know you’ll be okay. With Billie by your side, you feel safe, cherished, and loved.

[tinytennisskirt]

goodnight

summary: tiny simple oneshot blurb- coming home to art after a long day at work. he tried to stay up for you. and he missed you. he loves you. and there’s really nothing else to it. goodnight.

warnings?: domestic, fluff, loveeeee (unedited)

you had to finish up at work so the next day you could stay home, but the sacrifice, though satisfying, pushed you way past the bounds of being awake. you missed your bed, you missed having no shoes on, you missed laying next to art and feeling that easy drift to sleep. you were beyond tired.

you crept to the bedroom, shoes carefully left mid living room. coat dropped on the couch with your bag. it was like now that you were home and the door was shut and everything was dropped, you were just sleepwalking to the bedroom.

the faint sound of the tv murmured from within the room and when you opened the door, all of the lights in the room were on. there was art, sprawled across the middle of the bed, arms up around his head, one leg bent, the other straight. you, dead-asleep-girl-walking, felt just a little bit of awareness come over you at the sight.

he was shirtless, in just a grey pair of cotton shorts. his smooth skin looked powdery in this lighting. you couldn’t help but sigh a small sigh, using what was left of your being awake to strip yourself down and slip on a tank top paired with a comfortable pair of underwear. you were more than tired, crawling under those sheets after turning off the big light. your side of the bed was crisp, cold, and silky against your bare legs that had felt the scratch of corduroy all day. a soft breath slipped your lips.

you looked at sleeping art, his cheek squished against the memory foam pillow, his curls on his forehead, his eyelashes resting perfectly on his upper cheek. he was so sweet when he was asleep, never messy, never drooling, never snored (unless he was sick). he was perfect, he was an angel. he looked like a painting, the way he was laying so picture perfectly.

your hand reached forward to touch him, his hair, golden and soft. he was real, he wasn’t a painting. this was your reality. coming home to him. in the most perfect sense. you loved him more than anything. he was loyal, kind, sweet, good with kids, romantic, soft, and secretly a little weird. he’d meow back at you when you would do so randomly, he was witty and made fun of you for silly things, he really likes having a night light in he bathroom. and you were head over heels, looking at him sleep so soundly.

you felt the sleep pull on your eyelids, running your hand through his hair. your finger traced over his temple, gently tracing his eyebrow, his nose, his cheek, over his lips. you were sure this was it, your lifetime. and nothing confirmed it more than art stirring enough to open his eyes just a little. eyelashes fluttering as your hand slid back up over his jaw and into his hair once more.

he smiled and moved to the side just a little, making room for you to properly lay next to him, “mmm- i love you.” he mumbled, still smiling. he was the most gorgeous person in the world. he threw his hand over himself, patting the place next to him. tired beyond belief, you shimmied down. his tired arm wrapped around you, pulling you into him.

you giggled tiredly. “i love you too.”

his eyes stayed close, but his smile grew to a grin. you saw it in the dim. just enough light to arch your neck and kiss him gently on the lips. he kissed you back just enough. both of you balancing, teetering on that last moment of being awake. “goodnight.” he whispered, kissing you once more on the forehead.

“goodnight,” you whispered back. your then head curled in against his shoulder, chest, and your legs intertwined with his now, you took a deep breath that slowed into an easy pace, pulling you to sleep. as you fell deeper, your mind was only on him. your love, asleep next to you. angelic, smiley, bright. you could do this forever. because you felt just the same way when you woke up to him the next morning, still holding you tight.

[lovesickpvppy]

SHE DO PORN FOR ME. . .

— you and toji need a bit more money and he knows the perfect way to get it —

warnings: reader and toji make corn, fingering, daddy kink, a touch of spit !

notes: lmk if u want part two !!

𝜗𝜚 - you and toji needed some money. no you weren’t broke, but you needed some extra cash! so when toji approached you with the idea of starting a twitter account, you grab your phone and immediately opened the app going to make a new account

𝜗𝜚 - you choose a user that fit the both of you, you customize the page, making it all pink and white. toji hates it but he doesn’t want to upset you so he doesn’t say anything about it! you spend hours learning about camera angles and sound quality

𝜗𝜚 - the night you plan to record ur first video toji just pulls out his phone and a lil stand.

“are you kidding me?” you look at toji

“what?” he deadpans

𝜗𝜚 - you just run with it. you get on the bed, laying down on top of him and spreading your legs, most of the lights are out, just pink led lights illuminating the room, you can barely see each other but that leaves more mystery for others

𝜗𝜚 - toji starts to slip down your shorts, the camera capturing everything. you whine as you feel his fingers tease ur cunt through your panties. “pleasee daddy” he chuckles and rips your lacy panties apart, you were slightly disappointed cuz those were expensive but your thoughts were interrupted by his fingers slipping into your sobbing pussy

𝜗𝜚 - you moan, your back arching off him as his fingers curled inside you. “that’s it, moan for me, baby” your hips buck, “daddy!” his hands trail up to ur tits, his fingers playing with ur nipples. you dug the side of your face in the crook of his neck, placing small kisses on it

𝜗𝜚 - he’s knuckle deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, making you gush around him. slick is dripping down ur thigh and it’s all over his hand, his thumb finds its way to ur clit. rubbing in circles, now ur uncontrollably moaning, ur tongue lolls out as spit dribbles down from it

𝜗𝜚 - he fucks into you one last time before you cum alllll around his fingers. you moaning a mix of things including “daddy” and “please”. as you come down from your high toji shuts the phone off. soothing you as he slips his fingers out. licking all the juices off them

𝜗𝜚 - toji uploads the video with the caption, “she’s such a good girl : )”. then he cuddles with you for what feels like hours and you both eventually fall asleep. the next day you wake up with 85.k likes on ur post and hundreds of new followers : 3

[albertasunrise]

Work Wife - Seven

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary at Miller & Sons Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (sorry this took a while… as many of you know, we unfortunately lost my husband's brother before Christmas so my writing took a bit of a back burner. Lando's also cut two teeth so that's been fun. I hope this was worth the wait. Slightly shorter chapter this time but hopefully you all enjoy it ♥️)

Series Masterlist - One Two Three Four Five Six

You watched as Anna twirled her hair around her finger whilst she talked to Joel, practically eye fucking him. You wanted to walk up to her and rip the bangs from her head but, you also knew you didn't have any right to be jealous. You'd rejected Joel's advances. He had every right to move on.

But if you were being completely honest with yourself, you had hoped that he would wait for you. Hadn't he said that he would?

"The whole office can hear your murderous thoughts." Simon pulled you from your silent stewing session and you jumped a little in your chair as you looked up at him.

“They’re not murderous.” You argued, rolling your eyes at him.

“So you’re not planning her demise because she’s openly flirting with the man you love in the middle of the office?”

You choked on the sip of coffee you’d just taken and looked up at Simon with wide eyes.

“I don’t-“

“A blind man could see you’re in love with each other.”

You fumble for what to say. This is the man that you had dated for quite some time. The man you had lost your virginity to... and he's trying to talk to you about the man who'd, technically, been the reason for that relationship failing.

"Simon..."

"Don't worry, Pip." He said softly in an attempt to placate you "I was hurt for a while, sure, but to be honest... It was kind of a diskish move for me to make a move on you knowing how Joel felt."

"No... it was-"

"It was." Simon interrupted "It was but I just liked you so much and he didn't seem like he was ever going to make a move so I thought... Why not take my shot."

"I'm glad you did." You said softly and Simon smiled sweetly at you.

"I am too." He replied, "We had fun whilst it lasted... right?"

"Definitely." You replied, blushing furiously and Simon beamed at you.

"I know that you have stuff going on and I respect that you're taking time to recover from that before jumping into anything with him... but... Don't wait too long."

'Simon-"

"I just mean that life's short and we don't know when our number's up." He said, giving you a sympathetic look "Don't let your chance of happiness slip away."

You nodded and gave him a sweet smile as he winked at you and left. Leaving you to ruminate on what he had said to you. You weren't ready for anything yet but you also didn't want to lose Joel whilst trying to get yourself to the point where you are. You want to be with him and Sarah. To embrace that family you can still have, even without the baby you'd lost. You just needed to heal a little more first.

...

"You excited for the office party next week?" Asked Joel as your eyes scanned the shelves for the next food item on your shopping list.

"Sure." You reply, shrugging "I mean, it's a BBQ out in a constructors yard but..."

"We try'n make it pretty." Joel argues and you chuckle and roll your eyes at him.

"No amount of polishing can make a construction yard look pretty Joel." You snicker "But the food's always good so..."

"Exactly."

"You bringing Sarah?" You asked as you threw the item you'd been looking for into the trolley Joel's pushing.

"Of course." He grins, smiling at the little girl who's resting on your hip whilst you continue to read the list you'd put together.

"Wouldn't be the same without this little peanut." You said as you nuzzled her little cheek and grinned at the giggle this elicited.

"Mum said she's happy to take her home if I wanted to stay a little later but I expect I'll stay for some food and maybe a drink then head."

"Not wanna stay and party for a bit?" You ask and he shakes his head "Anna will be disappointed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joel asked, two lines forming between his brows as he looked at you and awaited clarification.

"She just seems pretty smitten is all." You replied, not looking at him as you spoke "She was telling me how she was hoping to get to know you a little better."

"Why are you telling me this?" Joel growled and you finally looked at him "You know I have feelings for you so why are you throwing this BS at me?"

"I didn't mean anythin' by it I just-"

"I told you I'd wait for you. Said that when you're ready for us to be somethin' more, I'll be here." His tone made your heart twist painfully in your chest as you waited for him to continue "Now you're telling me the new girl likes me... for what reason Pip?"

"I guess I was jealous and I wanted to know how you felt-"

"You know how I feel!"

"I know... I'm sorry." You choked back, trying not to upset Sarah who was watching you both with a concerned expression on her little face "I don't know what came over me."

"You don't need to worry about who I have feelings for Pip." He said softly and your shoulders relaxed a little "I love you Pip... and I will wait for you to be ready."

"I know... Joel, I'm sorry I just... I guess I'm scared that you'll get fed up of waiting for me to be ready and I want to be ready I do it's just..."

"I know Pip... I understand." He said as he stepped a little closer to you, pinching Sarah's cheek when she smiled at him and then yours "Just don't play with my feelings like that. Please..." He trailed off and you nodded, giving him an apologetic smile and grinning when he pulled you into a side hug "Right, what have we got left on the list"

.

Later that evening you were finishing the dishes when Joel came down, baby monitor in hand and a fresh t-shirt on.

"She pee on you again?" You asked, trying not to laugh.

"Who said women can't aim?" He asked as he ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, something you hadn't noticed initially "Got me right in the face this time."

"Good girl." You chuckled and he bumped you with his hip when he came to a stop beside you.

"Careful." He warned with a smirk "We may fall out."

"Nah..." You say shaking your head "You love me too much." You freeze at your statement. Not because this was new information or anything but because you weren't sure how he would take the statement.

You looked at him gingerly, shoulders relaxing when you saw him smiling down at you sweetly.

"Yeah... I do."

You return his soft smile, looking away shyly before placing the final dried dish with the others. He helped you put everything, music floating from the radio sitting on the windowsill and you both bop and sing along to it. The whole situation was very domestic and you could not notice how right it all felt. Being here, doing such mundane chores. It all felt so natural, so right and it made you feel that little bit closer to being ready for this. All of a sudden, Joel grabs your waist and pulls you close, stealing the breath from your lungs as he starts to dance with you.

"Joel." You chuckle and he grins at you "What are you doin'?"

"Can't a man dance with a pretty lady in his kitchen?"

You don't say anything then. You just let Joel lead, swaying from side to side as the song plays softly through the speakers. You rest your head on Joel's chest and listen to the steady thump of his heart. It was a perfect moment. One you never wanted to end. But nothing lasts, and Sarah's cries coming through the baby monitor brought your moment to a premature end.

"I'll get her." You said sweetly, heading upstairs where you take her sniffling form into your arms and rock her from side to side, smiling as she falls asleep in your arms.

It makes your heart hurt a little, knowing that you would have started to feel your baby move by now. You'd imagined lazy mornings in bed with Joel, his hand on your swollen belly as he felt the little life you were growling rolling and kicking under his hand. Sarah lying with you and trying to copy her daddy. It's an image you've imagined a lot lately. One that you know isn't completely out of the question one day.

When she's back down, you rejoin Joel downstairs, smiling when he hands you a hot chocolate with all the trimmings. Just the way you like it. Sitting next to him and watching the movie he put out you think to yourself that perhaps you're not so far off being ready for this.

...

Day of the office party...

You had to give the guys credit. They had done a pretty good job this time around of doing the yard up for the party. A tipi-style tent had been erected to give people a little shade from the hot Texas sun. Joel's father's large grill had been brought over and was cooking burgers, sausages and steaks, filling the air with a rich aroma of spices and such.

You sipped at your refreshing lemonade as Joel regaled the latest tale of Sarah being her vibey self, making all the other guys laugh as you bounced the baby in question on your knee. You loved listening to him talk about her. He was such a proud dad despite it being thrust upon him out of the blue nearly 6 months ago. He had come so far in that time. Taking fatherhood by the horns and thriving.

"She's so fucking cute man." Simon gushed as he glanced at you and then at Sarah "Think you'll have more?" He asks and you glance at Joel before looking back at Sarah.

"Oh yeah." Joel chuckled "A bunch more I hope."

You looked at Joel with wide eyes, noting the apprehension in his but also noting the hopeful smile he gives you too. This man wants to have more kids... and he wants them with you. It's written all over his face. You smile back, hoping it gives him some relief.

"What about you Pip?" Pipes up Calen and you try not to wince at his question. He doesn't know... you remind yourself.

"Sure." You reply, trying to play it cool "Someday."

"I'd love to have a whole bunch." Anna states suddenly and you startle. You'd almost forgotten she was sitting with you all.

"Well Joel... Maybe Anna's ya girl." Caleb jokes and you can't hide how your stomach sinks at the insinuation. You know you shouldn't feel threatened. Joel had told you only last week that he had no feelings for Anna. That he loves you... that he will wait for you.

"He knows where I am." Anna flirts and you feel sick.

"Food's up." Shout's Joel's father and you're glad of the distraction.

Everyone gets to their feet but Joel motions for you to stay put, it's then that you notice Sarah has dosed off on you.

"One of everything?" He asked and you nodded.

"You know it!"

.

The food was delicious, as it always is. You continue to talk about work and girls the guys have been dating. The trip Mr and Mrs Miller had recently taken with Tommy. How Tommy's talking about enlisting when he leaves school. How his father thinks it'll be good for him but his mother hates the idea. The day is turning into one of the best parties you've been to since starting at the company and you're so engrossed in the conversation that you didn't notice when Anna slipped off after Joel announced he was going to the bathroom.

After a short while, Sarah starts to get fussy, so grabbing her bag you make your way to the office kitchen so you can change her and prepare a bottle for her. Bouncing the fussy Sarah in your arms, you talk softly to her and try to console her. Stopping in your tracks when you come across Anna and Joel kissing by the main entrance. Your sudden stopping makes Sarah cry harder and that's what steals Joel's attention from Anna and brings it to you, his eyes widening when he sees you standing there. Tears streaming down your face.

Sarah's distressed cries pull you from your trance and you quickly sprint past Joek and Anna, trying to get into the building but Joel's hand on your elbow stops you.

"Let go of me." You growl but Joel held firm.

"Pip please."

"I need to feed YOUR baby Joel." You spit "So let. Fucking. Go. of me." You growl and he does.

You head in and try to keep your cool as you change Sarah and prepped her bottle. You heard Joel come in but chose to ignore him. You couldn't face him right now. Not whilst you were tending to Sarah.

"Pip."

"Don't!" You warn him and he lets out a shaky sigh "You're a fucking liar Joel."

"It's not what you think!"

You don't say anything. You just leave the room and sit on the couch in the breakroom so you can feed Sarah. It felt bittersweet now, feeding his baby after he'd just torn your heart on and stomped on it but she was innocent in this.

Joel said nothing as you fed his daughter. Just stood there silently and waited for you to finish. When you were done, you burped her and pulled her into your arms. Getting up to leave, you don't look at Joel, just walk past him as you make your way out of the office. You are met by a concerned Lucia Miller. She takes the baby without a word and walks back to the party and you stand there, your shoulders heaving as you await Joel's inevitable explanation.

"Pip." He pleads and you let out a shaky breath "Please look at me."

You finally turn and face him, your eyes greeted by a sobbing Joel Miller and for a moment your heart aches to comfort him... But then you remember why you're in this position.

"It's not what you think."

"Not what I think?" You scoff "So I didn't just witness you kissing Anna?"

"Well... yes but she kissed me." He urges "I swear to you! She caught me by surprise and then I heard Sarah cryin' and saw you and I..." He trailed off and your impatience grew.

"And you what Joel?"

"I froze."

"Fuck you." You growl and he sobs.

"Pip, please... I love you." He choked "I swear to you that I didn't kiss her."

"Yeah well... Your promises mean shit all to me, Miller." You growl, turning your back on him "You're a fucking liar and I want nothing to do with you."

"Pip." Joel sobs as he watches you leave, his heart shattering into a million tiny pieces "I love you." He whispers as you disappear out of view.

Everything was fucked now.

Next

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

PART 14 IS THE PLAN FAIL?

Y/N’s footsteps clicked against the polished marble floor of the long corridor, the sound bouncing dramatically off the high ceilings. Her beige jacquemus dress hugged her frame, perfectly. The subtle glint of her face caught the light as she strode forward, her face a mix of determination and worry.

“Matheo Sainz!” she called out, her soft voice echoing with authority.

Within seconds, two identical doors creaked open, and from each emerged a boy with the same dark, mischievous eyes and identical smirks. Y/N halted mid-step, her jaw tightening as a wave of disbelief swept over her. She pressed her fingers to her temples, as though willing the scene in front of her to make sense.

“No, no, don’t do this to me,” Y/N muttered, her tone a mix of exasperation and confusion. “I’m already seeing double, and I’ve only had one vodka today.”

The boys stifled their giggles, their shoulders shaking in unison as they exchanged a quick, knowing glance. Finally, one of them stepped forward, smoothing down the collar of his shirt with dramatic flair.

“Mom, it’s me, Mattia. The real Mattia,” he declared with a confident grin, pointing to himself for emphasis.

Y/N’s sharp eyes narrowed, seeing her son—or rather, both sons—with a mixture of suspicion and affection. Then, slowly, her expression softened, and her face lit up as though the pieces of a long-unsolved puzzle had finally clicked into place. Without hesitation, she pulled the boy into a firm, affectionate hug, her other arm extending to draw in the second boy—Matheo—who hesitated for only a moment before melting into the embrace.

“My two babies,” Y/N said, her voice thick with emotion. “I finally have you together.” She stepped back slightly, her piercing eyes now clouded with reproach as she scanned their identical faces. “How dare you do this to me?!”

Mattia and Matheo shot each other a quick look, their guilt barely masked by the corners of their lips threatening to curl into laughter. Before either of them could stammer out an excuse, a third figure appeared from the hotel room.

Chessy.

"Umm, if it's not too much trouble... How about you continue your conversation inside the room?" she suggested, gesturing toward the doorway. Without waiting for their response, she herded them into the adjacent space with an air of weary authority.

"Maybe you don’t remember me..." Chessy began, her tone carrying a playful hint of challenge.

"Chessy!" The greeting came from Y/N, her voice suddenly warm and bright as she pulled Chessy into an enthusiastic hug.

Chessy’s lips twitched into a smile at the gesture, said, "I know it, I always like you from the first met."

****

 “One of you... I’m not sure which one, but one of you told me your father would be expecting us.” Y/N’s tone was laced with disbelief as she addressed the two boys standing sheepishly in front of her. “But I inform you that the man I saw in the elevator didn’t seem like he even knew I existed. Or that we were on the same planet, much less in the same hotel.” Her sharp gaze flickered between the twins, expectant.

Mattia and Matheo exchanged uneasy looks, silently communicating their mutual regret for this unfolding disaster. Y/N raised eyebrows told them she was waiting for an explanation, but none came.

“Have you found him yet?” Matheo asked cautiously, his voice betraying his apprehension.

Y/N sighed heavily, collapsing onto the couch in dramatic defeat. “Yes. And when I saw him, he turned as pale as if he’d seen a ghost. A damn ghost.” She raised a finger at them, her expression stern. “Don’t do that again.” With an exhausted wave of her hand.

The sound of a whistle broke through the tension, and everyone turned as Martin strolled in, casually clad in Beach shorts, towel slung over his shoulder, and looking utterly unfazed by the chaos in the room.

Y/N patience visibly frayed at the edges. “Martin. Sweet Martin. May I respectfully ask… what the hell are you doing?”

Martin blinked, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing in the room. “I was thinking about going to the pool,” he replied nonchalantly, as if this was a perfectly reasonable response.

Matheo and Mattia barely managed to stifle their laughter, their mother’s exasperation only adding to their amusement.

Y/N groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, go have fun while I die here.”

As Martin turned to leave, Chessy entered the room, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to Y/N’s frazzled energy. “Would you like a glass of water?” she asked, her voice soothingly matter-of-fact.

Martin’s gaze caught on the brunette, her casual attitude faltering as he stared. Chessy, ever perceptive, noticed the attention and raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“H-hello,” Martin stammered, his usual confidence replaced by an almost endearing nervousness.

“Chessy, this is Martin” Y/N introduced dismissively, already distracted by her inner turmoil. “My butler.”

Chessy’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she extended a hand toward Martin. “Hey, nice to meet you. I’m that little ruffian’s babysitter,” she said, nodding toward Matheo.

Y/N’s exasperation reached its peak as she rose from the couch. “Twins, can you tell me why you brought me here without telling your father?”

Chessy and Martin exchanged glances, both visibly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. “Um, I think I’m going to pool now,” Martin mumbled, inching toward the door.

“Yes, you’re right,” Chessy quickly agreed. “I’ll go with you. I’ll get something to drink.” The two of them were almost out of the room when Y/N’s voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Wait.” She fixed them with a piercing look. “Do any of you know something I don’t?”

The question hung in the air, silencing everyone. Martin and Chessy froze, while Matheo and Mattia glanced at each other uneasily.

Finally, Matheo broke the silence. “Mom,” he began, his voice small and hesitant. Y/N turned to look at him, her expression expectant. “Dad’s getting married.”

Y/N slumped back on the couch, her mind racing as she stared blankly at the ceiling. The room felt heavy with tension, yet Mattia was undeterred. He leaned forward, his small frame brimming with conviction. "And with the devil? She’s horrible!"

Matheo chimed in, his voice steady but insistent. "That young woman is no good for Dad. The only way they won’t get married is..." He paused, glancing at Mattia as if passing the baton. "You tell him. You know him better."

Mattia didn’t hesitate. He shifted closer to Y/N, his tone dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "He won’t get married if he sees you..."

The words hung in the air, leaving Y/N wide-eyed and frozen. Her gaze darted between the two boys, trying to decipher their intentions. "Wait... you don’t want to involve me, do you?" Her alarm was evident, her voice edged with disbelief.

Meanwhile, Martin and Chessy, who had been quietly spectating, began inching toward the door. Their subtle retreat was an obvious attempt to avoid getting dragged into the unfolding drama.

Matheo, however, pressed on. "You were born to be each other’s mom," he declared with all the dramatic flair of a child convinced of his own brilliance.

Mattia nodded vigorously. "Exactly! His love goes beyond all things!"

Martin and Chessy exchanged a look, their escape plans now feeling more urgent. They crept another step toward freedom, but Y/N’s sharp tone stopped them cold. "Wait a second, you two..."

Both froze, their guilty expressions a dead giveaway. Slowly, they turned back to face her, fumbling over their words. "It’s not like that," Martin stammered. Chessy, desperate to back him up, blurted, "We just thought it was a great idea!"

Matheo and Mattia cringed, realizing their plan was unraveling faster than they’d anticipated. Y/N, however, had reached her limit. She shot up from the couch, her sudden movement startling everyone in the room.

"Alright! That’s enough!" Her voice carried the kind of authority that made even Martin and Chessy flinch. The room fell silent as she continued, "I’ll say this once and only once. Carlos and I? We have nothing in common. Nothing. And no one is going to convince me otherwise. Besides, he seems perfectly content with that short-haired young woman he’s always with."

Her tone softened just slightly, but the determination in her eyes didn’t waver. "What was going to be done will be done. We’re switching the kids back, and that’s it. Am I clear?"

Matheo and Mattia exchanged nervous glances. Their plan had crumbled, but a spark of mischief still lingered in their eyes. Clearly, they weren’t done scheming—not yet. But for now, they stayed silent, retreating to the safety of their thoughts as Y/N’s words settled over them like a final verdict.

prev chap

[prettygirl-gabi]

Jana El Alfy x Soft, Clumsy, Short Fem Reader

Headcanon for the wife @elalfywhore

Jana Teasing You About Your Height

- Jana *loves* how much shorter you are than her—she teases you about it constantly, but always in a loving way.

- She’ll casually rest her elbow on your head when you’re standing next to her.

- “You make the best armrest, you know that?” she says with a smirk.

- “Jana, I swear—”

- “What? You’re the perfect height for it, ma,” she laughs, ducking when you try to swat her arm away.

- She’ll hold things over your head just to watch you pout and jump for them.

- “Jana, give it back!”

- “Say please,” she teases, holding your phone just out of reach.

- “You’re the *worst!*”

- “No, I’m the *best* girlfriend you’ll ever have.” She finally hands it over, kissing your forehead.

- Whenever you try to hug her, you always complain about having to stretch your arms so high around her waist.

- “You’re too tall.”

- “And you’re too cute,” she replies, leaning down to kiss your nose.

---

Jana Worrying About Your Clumsiness

- Jana has a love-hate relationship with your clumsiness. She adores how endearing it is, but she also worries when you show up with random bruises.

- “How’d you get this one?” she asks, gently brushing her fingers over the bruise on your shin.

- “I walked into the coffee table,” you mumble.

- She raises an eyebrow. “Again?”

- “It came out of nowhere!”

- “The coffee table has been in the same spot for months, baby.”

- “...Well, it’s sneaky,” you argue, crossing your arms.

- She can’t help but laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

- She insists on carrying most things for you, just in case you trip or bump into something.

- “I can carry it myself,” you protest when she takes the heavy grocery bags from your hands.

- “Yeah, and next thing I know, you’re tripping over your own feet and dropping everything,” she teases.

- You roll your eyes but secretly love how protective she is.

---

Jana Helping You with Random Bruises

- Jana keeps a stash of Band-Aids and ice packs ready because you always seem to need them.

- “I’m fine, Jana,” you insist as she places an ice pack on your knee.

- “You said that last time, and then you had a bruise the size of a basketball,” she counters.

- “It wasn’t *that* bad!”

- She gives you a pointed look. “Do you want me to start taking pictures as evidence?”

- She’ll kiss your bruises better, even when you insist it’s silly.

- “There, all better,” she says after pressing a kiss to your elbow.

- “That doesn’t actually work, you know,” you tease.

- “But it makes you smile, and that’s all that matters,” she replies with a grin.

---

Soft Moments When Jana Dotes on You

- Jana loves how soft and sweet you are, and she matches your energy perfectly when you’re in a tender mood.

- She’ll pick you up effortlessly and spin you around just to hear you laugh.

- “Jana, put me down!”

- “Not until you give me a kiss,” she says, holding you just out of reach until you give in.

- When you’re feeling insecure about your clumsiness, she always reassures you.

- “I’m such a mess,” you say after knocking over a glass of water.

- She kneels in front of you, taking your hands in hers. “You’re not a mess. You’re my perfect, adorable, slightly clumsy girlfriend, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

- “You’re just saying that.”

- “Nope, I mean every word,” she says, kissing your knuckles.

---

Playful Banter and Teasing

- Jana loves teasing you, but it’s always in good fun.

- “Careful, baby, don’t trip over that *invisible crack* in the floor,” she jokes after you stumble for no reason.

- “Ha, ha, very funny,” you say, sticking your tongue out at her.

- “What? I’m just looking out for you!” she replies, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

- When you try to tease her back, she just grins and plays along.

- “You’re lucky I like you,” you say after she steals the last bite of your dessert.

- “Like me? You’re obsessed with me,” she teases, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

- “Am not!”

- “Oh, you totally are.”

---

Cuddling After a Long Day

- Jana is the ultimate big spoon, and she loves holding you close.

- “You’re like my personal heater,” you mumble, snuggling into her chest.

- “And you’re like my favorite pillow,” she replies, resting her chin on top of your head.

- She’ll play with your hair absentmindedly, sometimes braiding it or twirling it around her fingers.

- “You’re so pretty, baby,” she says softly, her fingers brushing against your cheek.

- “Stop,” you mumble, your cheeks heating up.

- “Never,” she says with a smile, kissing the top of your head.

---

Jana Supporting You

- Despite the teasing, Jana is your biggest supporter. Whether you’re trying something new or just going about your day, she’s always there to cheer you on.

- “You’ve got this, ma,” she says, her hand on your back as you tackle something challenging.

- “What if I mess up?” you ask nervously.

- “Then I’ll be here to catch you,” she says with a reassuring smile.

[milkoomi]

the basics of health & wellness. ᥫ᭡

a lot of us strive to be that health & wellness icon, but unfortunately we might stumble upon the struggle of trying to figure out where to start. we come across so many health & wellness accounts, creators, videos, books, etc. that might quickly become overwhelming and we just end up lost on where to begin. so let this little guide on the basics be your starting position!

let’s begin …

୨ৎ — physical basics

a lot of the time when we think of “health and wellness”, we think about our physical body. we look for workout routines, we might subscribe to a gym membership, we might try and follow workout youtube videos— but, we always somehow end up losing track of keeping up with that kind of physical activity, especially when we jump right into it.

start small! when i say we’re going to talk about the basics, i mean the very bare minimum basics.

make sure you’re getting enough sleep!

that 7-8 hours of sleep is absolutely vital for your physical health. i made this guide on how to get better sleep that i recommend for those who might struggle with getting a good amount of rest at night!

your body needs to rest and recharge. it needs to go into that sleep mode so that the next day you feel energized!

getting a good amount of sleep each night is an overall basic health and wellness tip! sleep doesn’t have just physical benefits, but it also benefits your mental and emotional well-being too!

drink water daily!

2-3 liters is that sweet spot for water intake, so let that be a daily goal for yourself! even if it’s one glass of water every morning, make sure you’re staying hydrated.

what helped me increase my water intake was by getting myself a super cute water bottle! i have this pastel colored owala water bottle and i’m absolutely obsessed with it and since i love it so much i’ve just been more inclined to drink more water!

stay away from the late night snacks!

i’ve been making it a goal for myself to not eat after, at the latest, 7:30pm. with that, i also try to refrain from getting myself a late night snack.

your stomach needs time to digest all the food you’ve eaten at dinner, and doctors/nutritionists always say not to eat 2-3 hours before going to sleep! going to bed with a full stomach can cause digestive problems, and we’re trying to promote health and wellness for ourselves! not make it worse for us!

get your body moving!

even if it’s going for a short walk or getting up from the couch to stretch or dancing around in your room, you need to start moving your body! get it used to physical activity before you start trying workout routines or going to the gym or following a youtube workout video.

if you’re already a little experienced with physical activity, keep your workout routines simple and short! find beginner level youtube workout videos! again, start small. don’t try to force yourself by diving in head first into something intense!

୨ৎ — mental/emotional basics

health and wellness also means making sure your mental and emotional health & well-being are in check. you can’t do physical activities if your mind isn’t in the right place!

journal, journal, journal!

i talk about journaling A LOT, and i’m going to keep reiterating it over and over again because it works! writing down your thoughts/feelings, brain dumping, creating gratitude lists, writing down daily affirmations; it all truly helps to get yourself into a better headspace!

digital detox

sometimes, it really is that damn phone! social media can be so toxic and draining, so spend some time away from it! i’m going to hold your hand when i say this: doomscrolling on tiktok or instagram reels isn’t going to make you feel better. log out and go do something else!

read a book, journal (told you i’d bring it up again), go for a walk, chat/hangout with a friend/loved one, clean your room, take an everything shower, dance around in your room; just do something that doesn’t involve your phone!

if you want to be on your phone, maybe create a vision board on pinterest or go into your notes app and journal that way! you can also go on youtube and watch inspirational videos/podcasts or any content creators that motivate you or make you feel good.

୨ৎ — spiritual basics

this may or may not apply to you, and if it doesn’t you can go ahead and skip this part! but if it does apply to you, then stay tuned!

your spirituality can be compromised when your health and wellness needs aren’t being met. if you’re a believer in God or you believe in another higher being or the universe, try to get yourself reconnected with your spirituality!

write down prayers/affirmations/manifestations

here i am with the journaling bit again, but seriously, write it down! get into the habit of writing these things down for yourself. you can start your day with writing this stuff down or you can end your day doing so!

consume media that inspires you

youtube videos, podcasts, books, articles, essays, whatever it is just find something that you feel helps you connect with your spiritual side and immerse yourself in it!

it could be content about manifesting, content about God, content about tarot cards/readings; anything that brings you closer with your spirituality.

୨ৎ — final notes

i want to give you guys a little bit of an assignment: write and reflect on your current health and wellness. what are some aspects of it that are going really well? what are some things that still need some work? how are you going to implement healthier habits into your routine?

living healthier and promoting your personal wellness for yourself doesn’t have to be complicated. it’s okay to start off with smaller goals! the health and wellness content creators you see have all started off with the basics and the basics have helped them grow! just because it’s a small act or a tiny change, it doesn’t mean you aren’t going to see big improvements!

with lots of love, faustina 🌷