#i need to be berated i need to fight i need to be told this is my fucking fault because it is and im already telling myself that but another
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Here's the thing about Via's reaction to Stolas:
Via doesn't know the full picture. We, the audience, do. It's called Dramatic Irony. It's used to tell a narrative that the viewers know something the character does not and in the process of story telling, the character will eventually find out on their own. This kinda gets a lil long.
If you look at it, Via thought her parents were in a loving relationship, hence, why else would they have a child and all those family photos on the walls? She doesn't know that she is a precautionary heir because no one told her. We heard from Paimon that Stolas was to marry Stella for that sole reason and we heard Stolas say it about Via when confronted by Stella when she berated and hit him on his balcony.
But, that illusion of family was first shattered when Stella refused to comfort her own daughter when Via had a nightmare. Stella further doesn't care about her daughter when she talked about how she birthed her, "an egg falling out of her." Jeez, what a way to show you care about your kid. We only see Stolas take care of her, while her mother is usually annoyed at Stolas, seen fighting directly in front of Via, plotting assassination, and even rubbed it in Via's face that she can't interact with Stolas anymore. Not once has this woman shown any genuine concern for Via and even then, when Stella hugged her during Stolas' trial, it was for her own selfish gain. Alternatively, to Via, it looked like Stella was finally warming up to her and for once tried to comfort her daughter during a very serious moment in her life. Stella hugging her was the validation that Via needed that a parent still loved her, even if meant that person was Stella.
A younger Via became rightfully attached to the sole parent taking care of her. And when the parent that she loved and trusted, decided to cheat on her neglectful mom? Via became worried about being abandoned and for good reason too. Although when she confronted Stolas the first time at Loo Loo Land, Stolas didn't have the words to explain why he did what he did to Via. Even the second time around, he couldn't get the chance to tell her about his desires that we the audience already know and that Via is still stuck in the dark, despite only knowing that her dad chose Blitz over their family. Her refusal to hear him out is not her being "a dumb teenager" for plot, but rather the times that her father couldn't sit her down and talk about the reasons for his infidelity. The pills were the last and final confirmation that validated her feelings that her parents truly did not love each other and by extension, her.
She is seen as an obligation because that's what all she saw growing up from one parent to the other. To Stolas, his destiny was decided for him and when he got a taste of autonomy, the desires he so desperately wanted while in a relationship, he took the chance. Yet, he also only saw Via as his saving grace in the marriage. I believe he truly does care for Via and he wants both things, but unfortunately to Via, he's selfish and for the wrong reasons. And without Via knowing the deeper meanings as to why he loves and wants Blitz, she is creating a deeper wedge to spare herself from more disappointment and heartbreak.
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Please...
To be talked down to. To be made to feel small, and weak, and pathetic. To be made to bow my head in shame and feel my face flush.
To be controlled. Thoroughly and utterly dominated. To be told what to wear, what to eat, when to talk, how to sit. To be made to beg for a single dollar to spend on myself.
To be made to cook and clean and keep the house tidy and do it all in my lingerie. To only ever be allowed to eat left over food scraps after everyone has eaten and to be made to sit on the floor and eat with my hands behind my back.
To be groped and touched and teased and stripped for your pleasure or for the pleasure of anyone you choose. To be edged endlessly and torturously kept on the edge of orgasm so I am absolutely and completely compliant and deeply submissive.
To be made to suck and fuck on demand. To suck and fuck anyone I am told to. And to suck and fuck irrespective of when and if I feel like it. And to never be allowed to cum so I am constantly in need of use.
To be whored out and bring money back to you. And to be berated for not earning enough.
To be beaten... to be stripped and tied and slapped and spat on and edged to tears. To be made so docile that crying turns me on...
To be so thoroughly, absolutely and completely used and abvsed that I have literally nothing left to fight with...
Oh my god...!
#degrade and humiliate me#degrading k1nk#humiliation kink#filthy thoughts#rough kink#submit#edging my mind away#attention wh0r3#edge slvt#cnc fr33use#edging and denial#edging kink#degrade her#degradation k1nk#degrade kink#bd/sm degrader
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
my boss is abusive like straight up <3 <3 <3 not even in a "donate to my gofundme to help me escape an abusive living situation and by that i mean my roommate asked me to do the dishes" type of way. like i am literally trapped in the cycle of build up explosive incident honeymoon phase
#WOMEN IN MALE DOMINATED FIELDS!!!!!#she spent literally all day yesterday (which is 12 hours btw bc there are no boundaries in this industry) berating me and making me feel#like i couldn't do anything right and i cried like four times and called my dad (lol) and was genuinely shaking like a chihuahua by the end#of it#and then today she's acting like my best friend and giving me cigarettes and i cried on a call in front of everyone and told her i felt lik#she was hostile to me and she apologized and was like yeah im fighting with my husband so that's why i was feeling hostile#which is like okay but not an excuse to terrorize me like that lol#ugh. i had this moment of perverse relief yesterday when i thought she was basically just looking for reasons to fire me and i was like oka#well at least this might be over soon even though that means i have to start the job hunt again#but now the horror is dawning on me that she wants to keep me here and It's Never Over#like this is insane i need to leave i need a new job
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
my big sister is coming to visit tomorrow. fucked up sibling relationship gang how are we feeling
#whiskey yelling into the void#every time we see each other without fail she gets on my case about something#the problem is she literally cannot see me as anything but an incompetent twelve year old who needs help doing anything and everything#and it’s so. fucking demeaning. and i’ve told her this SHE KNOWS but she still treats me like a child anyway#we’re polite and everything when we see each other but then she flies off the fucking handle about something and we fight and i cry#and ofc she berates me for crying and last time this happened i removed myself from the situation to have a panic attack in private#but she just wanted me to sit down and talk while i was actively losing it#but like. i’m not the victim here and i know that we’ve both said and done terrible horrible shit to each other we’re both at fault#but she doesn’t try to see me as an actual person. to her i’m still just like. a fucking kid. an object for her to take care of.#she’s so condescending and demeaning and i just don’t see reconciliation in the cards for us right now#until i can move out and do things 100% for myself and she SEES that i don’t think that we can actually make amends#and sometimes i wonder if i even want to at all. yk.#*actively crying* FUCKED UP SIBLING GANG HOW ARE WE FEELING????
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
i just reached for my sketchbook and a wave of anxiety came over me bc 'i cant do this, i have something else more important to do, i cant waste time'
jesus fucking christ, some things just never leave you, do they?
#if you were told you can do whatever you want and choose whichever career you want and that yes you can be an artist too and you were told#your drawings were awesome#but every hw you had from arts class was handled by your parents so you could 'focus on more important classes' and every time you were#caught drawing during the school year you were angrily told to 'stop wasting time already'#raise your hand#🙋♀️#ive been trying to get myself to draw more but every time i draw i have to fight through the feeling of doing something wrong something i#shouldnt bc im wasting time i could spend on something more important#its exhausting#drawing was my life and now i cant pick up a pen without feeling guilty and like i need to hide what im doing#so im not berated for it again
1 note
·
View note
Text
what fucking else is there to do
#i need to be berated i need to fight i need to be told this is my fucking fault because it is and im already telling myself that but another#voice is gonna get me to actually do something. out of shame but at least ill fucking do something#i wish i could forgo meds. i wish i could. but if i stopped i would rot away in bed alone and be an even worse burden#honestly id probably be kicked out by the parentals like i wonder if theyd even care if i started rotting away or just fuck my life bc#im not their kid and i dont like them anyway so any support they give is fucking nothing because theyre not even good parents anyway#im so tired
0 notes
Text
playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there
#how do i tell her she needs to break up with him immediately. posthaste.fuck it funny post over rant incoming tw emotional abuse i think#nyarla dni#(<- roomie and nyarla have met and i don't wanna air roomie's drama to ppl who know her w/o her consent. anon internet ppl only)#listen i'm normally for gentle advising and that's probably what i'll do since i don't want to stress her out but oh my fucking god what is#his problem. he's constantly putting her in these weird no-win situations where the only right answer is to never be upset or disagree or b#wrong on accident or be misunderstood by him and to tell him everything she's feeling so she's not 'playing mind games' but if she says wha#she's feeling he'll interrogate her and badger her with the same questions over and over again insisting she's unreasonable until she gives#in and says she's sorry with an attitude he likes. i fucking don't like him. and a lot of this is observations from today. the day after sh#GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT AND BROKE HER NECK. WHAT THE FUCK.#it's like he expects to be treated like a king on one of the worst days of her life and when she's upset he's like OH. OH I GET IT.#and lectures her on having attitude and taking things out on others when she's literally not even doing that. not to an extent that matters#anyway. like. there's more productive ways of dealing with that. where you don't treat them like a bad kid for getting overwhelmed#he has made her cry multiple times today. i have been around multiple arguments and fights and he's just genuinely. awful i hate him#hell the first argument i overheard *i* was in tears by the end (luckily they left soon after bc i had to run to the basement laundry#dungeon to bawl my eyes out because 1. i can't handle confrontation 2. i've never seen roomie cry and 3. she just seemed so hurt and tired)#anyway he just left again after a fight because. god this is so dumb. she told him to move while they were sleeping in the same twin bed#(remember she's in a neck brace) and he fucking. left the room for an HOUR bc he thought the only thing that could POSSIBLY mean (as he#insisted) was for him to get out of here and then when she was like oh hey i'm sorry i didn't mean it like that he decided to spend the nex#half hour of his short time on this earth chewing her out for not giving him a lengthy explanation while half-asleep as to like. why he#needed to move (she wanted to grab smth) and apparently he sat in the chair by her bed for like 10 mins before leaving so he probably saw#her fall back asleep. and then he got pissy when after he left she didn't pick up her phone when he was calling her? even though he knew sh#was asleep?? she didn't even know he was gone. fucking. i need to get him away from my roomie YESTERDAY#look. miscommunication happens. i'm not saying he's an asshole for wanting things said clearly. i am pro-saying what you mean.#but if every time your gf tells you what she means you make it into a 30 minute lecture (no matter how small the slight and w/o examining i#you're actually right or not) she's not gonna wanna fucking tell you if she doesn't think it's worth the argument. especially if you never#let her rest until she concedes. apology isn't enough. clarification isn't enough. she has to say how wrong she was and beg and GOD. UGHHH#and he's always on about how she hurts his feelings. a gust of wind could hurt his feelings. he's constantly berating her manipulating her#and then he's like >:( see that hurt my feelings you can't hurt ppl's feelings. you're disrespectful. HE"S THE WORST I FUCKING HATE HIM#look sometimes adversity reveals the truth of a person and this just amplified his shittiness so much. mr OH i slept in a HOSPITAL and it#was so bad... you can't be in a bad mood bc i've been doing the bare minimum and you need to prioritize MY feelings rn. also i won't leave
1 note
·
View note
Text
(⚠️Talk of SA/Abuse Victims/Anya Mouthwashing)
⚠️If you need any "credibility" i am also a victim of abuse.
My Thoughts on #GIRLBOSS Anya
TW: S/A , Abuse
Some people need to realize that not all victims of abuse are empowered #girlbosses and are in fact scared to face their abuser bc of power dynamics and such .
Sometimes people just arent able to stand up to them, and thats okay. Its easy for some to say "oh they should fight back" but its really not :( often times their abusers are people in power, or close to them that they wouldnt want to antagonize in fear of disappointing them or for them to do the worst.
Sometimes victims may not even realize they were being abused/manipulated, and sometimes they downplay their own suffering bc its easier than fighting back.
That isnt to say that "victims should just comply to their abuser", its definitely not, and if you are suffering from abuse please seek as mucb help as you can. Im referring to people who always assume that if victims just "tried hard enough" they could defeat their abuser.
This is why often times I feel a little off put by depictions of Anya being this girlboss character who couldve defeated Jimo Because it sorta downplays her fear of him. Yes, we wouldve loved to see her succeed and win, but she was honestly scared. She was doing her best to please him by cheering him on and folding in when he berates her.
Personally I also want her to take that gun/axe and hit him where it hurts, but as a victim of a similar (not SA) type of abuse where people who controlled/manipulated were far above me, I symphatize with her.
Her death and her folding up, her taking drastic and risky measures such as hiding the gun case when she told Jimo about her pregnancy. Her struggling to open up about it bc shes been dismissed already by Curly, who couldnt believe that someone hes close to would do such an act and is trying way too much to balance both sides.
This is all just my opinion. Theres really nothing wrong with making a victim stand up for themselves, in fact yes, it should be celebrated. But also dont dismiss when a victim doesnt do that due to fear/trauma.
TL;DR: sometimes victims can dismiss their own abuse for the sake of safety.
Pls keep in note that im speaking from complete experience and am no way a psych major or anything. This is just my voice and opinion and if you beg to differ, im open to discussion ^^ please be respectful!
#just thinking about it yknow#if you have something to add pls do#im not a SA victim but i am a victim of abuse#mouthwashing#tw sa#mouthwashing anya#mouthwashing analysis
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen
pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )
genre . . . smut )
summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )
warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )
word count . . . 2800 words )
a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )
Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.
You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.
In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.
Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.
So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.
“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.
“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.
“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.
“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.
“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”
To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.
“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.
“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.
“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.
“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”
As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.
“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.
“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.
But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.
You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face
Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.
“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost.
You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him.
“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long.
The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth. When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.
“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.
“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed.
“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.
You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.
“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.
“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you.
Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst.
“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit.
“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover.
Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.
“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.
“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”
“Fuck really?”
“Yeah, i need it so bad.”
“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me”
The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before.
“I love you so much Y/N”
He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.
Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you.
“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.”
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x oc#f1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1 smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Fight
Tommy calmed himself before he walked into the station. Closed his eyes and did the breathing technique he'd learned in therapy years ago.
They needed to talk about this. He couldn't handle it if something happened during Buck's shift and the last words they had spoken to each other were in anger.
He spotted Buck fairly quickly. He was in the middle of a workout, sitting on a bench and lifting weights. Although it looked like he was mostly talking to Eddie.
Eddie, who was standing in front of him, nodding his head as Buck spoke.
Eddie eyed Tommy first. “Buck,” he said in the middle of Buck's rant.
“-and I- I don't think that's fair, Eddie. It's not fair of him to- to treat me like I'm a child-”
“Buck,” Eddie repeated, louder this time.
Buck groaned. “What?”
Eddie pointed behind him. “Tommy.”
Buck froze, then slowly turned to see Tommy standing behind him, staring at him. After a brief glance, Buck cast his eyes downward.
“Hey, man,” Eddie greeted. Buck rolled his eyes.
“Hey, Eddie,” Tommy replied. “Mind if I talk to Evan for a second?”
“Nope. I'll be upstairs.”
Tommy watched as Eddie headed upstairs, waiting until he was out of earshot to turn back to Buck. “What are you doing here, Evan?” he asked.
Buck placed the weights he had resting on his thighs down on the ground. “Working.”
“Your shift doesn't even start for another twelve hours.”
Buck got up and began placing weight plates on the barbell. “I asked Bobby if I could do a twenty-four instead. He said yes.”
“You literally told me two days ago that they weren't allowing overtime right now.”
“Did you really come all the way here to keep fighting with me?”
“First of all, I'm not the one who started the fight,” Tommy said, stepping closer, “and I'm not the one who can't look their boyfriend in the eyes.”
Buck stopped messing with the barbell and glared up at Tommy. His eyes were red, although Tommy couldn't tell if it was from crying or rage. “Better?” he asked bitingly.
“Yeah, actually, it is. It's a great improvement from you walking out on me this morning.”
Buck crossed his arms defensively. “There wasn't anything left to say.”
“I strongly disagree. We've both talked about this before, Evan. How you don't like the feeling of people walking out on you. How it scares you, makes you worry. Did you forget I told you the same thing? How it reminds me of what my dad did to my mom and me over and over again?”
Tommy swore he could see a twinge of guilt flash through Buck's eyes, but it was quickly replaced with more anger.
He moved closer to Tommy. “I wasn't going to sit at your place and be berated for however long you decided to yell at me-”
“I was not yelling.”
“-for doing my job.”
Now it was Tommy's turn to fill with a new wave of rage. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it back, pursing his lips as he thought over his words. “You were not doing your job, Evan,” Tommy spoke slowly, carefully. “You made a bad decision that could have gotten you killed.”
Buck scoffed. “Danger is part of the job, Tommy. I thought you of all people would understand that.”
Tommy felt like pulling his hair out. They'd had this whole argument a few hours earlier. No matter what he said, he couldn't seem to get through to Buck. “You ran into a burning building without your gear, Evan! There were other firefighters there, but you just ran in! You could have died!”
“But I didn't! God, Tommy, you're acting like I'm a baby! I've been doing this for years; I know what I'm capable of!”
Tommy brought a hand to his forehead, pressing against his temple. This was pointless. “I don't even know why I came here,” he said with a shrug. He gave Buck one last glance before turning to leave.
“Still don't know why you're angry at me for saving someone's life!” Buck called out to him as he headed for the door.
The words made Tommy turn on his heels. “You really don't know why I'm angry with you?!” he asked. The question came out harsher than he intended.
Buck stood his ground. “No, I don't!”
“Unbelievable!” Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Because I love you, Evan!” he exclaimed. “I love you so damn much! So, yeah, it makes me a little angry when I see that you aren't in this as much as I am. That you don't love yourself enough to care if you come back home!”
Buck felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. It took him a second to find his voice again. “You... You love me?”
“Of course I do, Evan.” Tommy spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Have for quite a while now.”
Buck moved closer to him. “You don't think I- I'm in it as much as you?”
Tommy let out a deep breath. “I didn't mean it like that,” he said, his voice calmer now. “I just meant... I always try my damndest to make it back to you, every shift. Every call I go on, you're in the front of my mind. Be safe for Evan, stay focused for Evan, make it home because Evan will be there waiting. And I don't expect you to love me back or anything like that, but it would be nice to know that you try to make it home to me too.”
“I do,” Buck replied earnestly. “I do try, Tommy. I- I, when I was on that call, I ran back in because of you.”
Any anger left in Tommy's body was replaced with confusion. “What?”
“The guy I went in for, his- his boyfriend was yelling for him. He was panicked, like he- he would go insane if something had happened to him. All I could think about was you. How I'd go crazy if you were in a burning building and I- I couldn't get to you. I couldn't think of doing this life without you, Tommy. So, I ran in. And, I mean, you can ask Bobby, I'm not careless like that anymore, not like I used to be. And I do love you, Tommy. I love you so much it scares me. I promise I'm in this with yo-”
Before Buck could even process it, Tommy had cleared the space between them. He brought his hands to Buck's face pulled him in for a kiss.
Buck couldn't help the surprised moan that escaped him as Tommy pressed himself even closer. Buck grabbed onto Tommy's shirt, tugging on it like he was desperate for more.
It wasn't until tongues got involved that there was the sound of a throat being cleared behind them.
They stopped, both breathing heavily, then turned back to see the rest of the team watching them from upstairs.
“I knew you two lovebirds would work it out," Eddie said with a smirk on his face.
Chimney sniffed, earning him looks from the others. “I'm a sucker for romance,” he explained.
“I tried to get them to back off,” Hen defended. “I mean, not very hard, but I did try.”
Bobby simply smiled down at them. “Buck, your shift doesn't start until tonight. Go home.”
And well, they weren't gonna argue with that.
#bucktommy#911#evan buckley#tommy kinard#tevan#kinley#pretend this is a romantic comedy okay#lets just roll with it#cheesy as hell but i spent time on this and i won't let it go to waste!
729 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey Beans-
Hey beans, I have a bit of a hellish update.
Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life. My grandma made a huge fight happen while I was on call with a friend, and things just escalated between me and her so badly I had to leave. When I came back home, my family was also on my ass about it all, despite knowing how she lies and how she instigates.
She threatened to hit me, she threatened to kill Sammy, she hurled insult after insult at me and this all started because I didn't get up in time to do something she asked (Which was locking the door. I waited three seconds too long and she went off).
When I came back after trying to let things cool down I was berated and told I had no right to be so “selfish” in the house, so on and so on, and the fight got so intense I had to just physically walk away, leaving the home and going two miles up the road because I did not feel safe.
They made me so sick I began to pee blood again, as well as my sugar spiking and causing me to have palpitations. My heart cannot take this stress anymore, and neither can my mental health. I wish I could explain how bad the situation was. I had tears down my face, gasping for air, chest heaving and in pain, I felt like I was on the verge of passing out.
I got in contact with some good friends of mine, who say they can help get me out of not only that home, but the entire state i'm in. But I need money to do so, for travel and gas and so on. As much as they can house me, they need me to pull my weight.
I hate having to ask for help, I hate that I'm even in this situation, to the point I'm so sick I might have to be seen in the ER or sent to ICU.
I need to come up with 700 dollars, and I'm willing to do some commissions, but with how sick I am I may take a bit to get back with you. I plan to leave by early June, if not the beginning of July, as that's when my friends are able to drive down and get me.
Donations are greatly appreciated, even if you can only afford a single dollar, it’ll be more help than you know.
If you’re wanting a commission, please don't send money and then ask, for your sake and mine. I’m incredibly overwhelmed, and I’ll do my best to get with you and explain rates.
And if you’re willing to donate anything, here’s my Ko-fi link.
Again, I can’t thank you enough for if you donate or even spread this post around, even well wishes mean the world to me because I know you beans care and want to help however you can.
This post was incredibly hard to make, I’m still all over the place and trying to figure everything out, so I apologize if this sounds like rambling and nonsense. There is a silver lining however, as I actually have a way out this time, and I pray I can get out before things can get worse.
-Mommabean
#mommabean#personal#ok to reblog#ok to interact#ok to comment#signal boost#mutual aid#writing commission
708 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pillow Talks
Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte
Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader
Summary: Your master has sent you on a mission and Qimir, your supplier and guide, is accompanying you.
Qimir Masterlist
Your Master has tasked you with the mission of finding and killing a former Jedi that had previously wronged him. Per usual, he also assigned Qimir to be your guide and supplier, should you need him.
Although you were perfectly capable of doing things on your own, you had to admit it was nice to have company. For a long time, it had always just been you and your Master. Then when you were finally ready for your first mission, Qimir was assigned to you.
At first, you were annoyed, but then grew fond of the man. Sure, he can be a bumbling, fumbling idiot, but he’s also very knowledgeable, skilled, and can hold his own.
However, this particular mission, you’ve grown somewhat annoyed with him. Your search for the former Jedi led you to jungle planet of Eriaduan. The weather is hot and humid, causing you to sweat and feel sticky. It’s dampened your mood and motivation to fulfill this mission.
Doesn’t help that Qimir is being extra chatty as you trek through the jungle, “Can I ask you a question?” Some of his black strands of hair stick to his face due to sweat and humidity.
You sigh, “As long as you’re okay with possibly not getting an answer.” You reply as you step over branches and through shrubs.
“Why are you so adamant that your Master doesn’t care for you?”
Earlier, you tripped on a boulder and Qimir told you that you need to be more careful, “Your Master wouldn’t be happy with me if I brought you back injured.”
You had scoffed and told him, “Please, my Master doesn’t care about me, Qimir. Only cares about my ability to fulfill these missions.”
You shrug, “Because he doesn’t.”
“How do you know?” He asks with furrowed brows.
“The way he’s treated me isn’t how people treat those they care about, Qimir. He’s very…forceful. He never gives me a break, asks how I’m feeling. Honestly, it’s foolish of me to even want him to care about me, even just a little.” You pause at a fallen tree trunk and decide to sit for a little rest.
Qimir follows, sitting beside you, “It’s not foolish to want to be cared for. Besides, he always sends me to go with you. Surely, that must mean he cares for you right? Wants someone to have your back?”
You snort, “Or because he doesn’t trust me to do these things on my own.”
Qimir sighs and shakes his head, “I’m sure he knows you’re capable of doing this on your own. But…maybe he just wants you to have back up just to ease his mind?”
You shrug, “Guess we’ll never know because he doesn’t really talk to me unless he’s assigning me a new mission or berating me about not improving my skills.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do care about you. Knowing you has brought some…excitement back into my life.”
You give him a grateful grin, “Thanks, Qi. I care about you too.” You two sit in a comfortable silence, catching your breaths and taking pause to finding this Jedi.
_______________
This definitely wasn’t how you expected things to go. You’d gotten injured during your fight with the Jedi. You were still able to kill him but not before get stabbed you in the side.
Qimir was freaking out, trying his best to keep you from bleeding out too much but you eventually succumbed to the pain, blacking out as Qimir pleaded with you to hold on.
When you finally wake up, you’re groggy. Your hand goes to your wound and you feel a bacta patch on it.
“You’re awake,” you hear the modulated voice of your Master.
You turn your head to see your Master standing at the end of your bed roll.
You try to sit up but you hiss in pain, “Don’t move. Lay still.” He approaches your side and kneels, he pulls back the bacta patch, “It needs to be changed.”
He grabs a new patch from the small pile beside your bed. Has he been taking care of you while you were out? Surely not, right? Had to be someone else. Maybe Qimir?
“Where’s Qimir?” You ask and your Master stills.
“I sent him away after he brought you here.”
“I hope you didn’t threaten or hurt him," you give your Master a threatening glare.
He questioningly tilts his head to you , “Why?”
“Because he’s my friend and I care about him.”
He stays silent for a few seconds before stating, “He left unscathed.”
“Good.”
Your Master cleans your wound and dresses it with a new bacta patch. It was weird, having him care for you in such a way. Usually when you got hurt or injured, you took care of yourself.
“You need to be more careful," he practically whispers.
“The former Jedi was a lot more skilled than I anticipated, but I fulfilled my mission.” The sentence comes off as factual, unfeeling.
“You got hurt.”
“It’s nothing new,” you say nonchalantly with a little shrug.
Your Master’s clenches his fists, “You need to be more careful,” he repeats.
"I'm fine. I'll do better. I know I'm not useful to you when I'm hurt."
"That's not why I want you to be careful," he says before standing and exiting the hut you made as your home on the secluded island.
_______________________
On your next mission, your Master has sent you to go undercover as a merchant on the planet of Batuu. Qimir, per usual, will be aiding you on the mission. You meet him at a cantina where an RX pilot droid was reprogrammed to play music throughout the place.
It seems like Qimir had been waiting for you a long time since his body was swaying, seemingly five drinks in already.
You sit on the stool beside him, causing him to turn to you and he gives you a drunken smile, "Heeeey! You're here!" he hiccups a bit and you can't help but chuckle, "How're you already this drunk?"
He shrugs, "Had to do something while I waited for you." He offers his cup to you and you push it back towards him, "I'm good," you say.
He shrugs again and downs the rest of the drink, "So, what's the plan?" A strand of his hair falls onto his face.
You giggle, moving the strand away, "I don't think we should discuss plans while you're in this state," your fingers linger on his face. Suddenly realizing what you did, you pull your hand away and clear your throat, "Um, we should discuss plans tomorrow while you're sober. So, drink some water and I'll meet you in the morning," you stand to leave but Qimir stops you.
"Wait, wait. Can I stay with you?" You look at him confused and he continues, "I, uh, lost my ship so I had to hitch a ride here. Don't have much credits left."
You give him a cocked brow and a hand on your hip, "And how did you expect to pay for your bar tab?"
He gives you a sheepish look, "I was kinda hoping you'd pay for it?"
You sigh, pulling out enough to pay for Qimir's drinks. The bartender thanks you and you have Qimir follow you out of the cantina.
"You're lucky I like you," you murmur, a hint of a smirk on your lips.
Qimir gulps and nods, "Yeah...lucky."
You two make it to the dingy hotel where you plan to stay for the next few days. As soon as Qimir enters, he plops onto your bed with a content sigh. Looking at him and then the room, you now realize that there's only one bed, which means you have to share.
It'll be fine. You can be professional about this situation.
You clear your throat, grabbing Qimir's attention, "So there's only one bed-"
Qimir immediately sits up, "I can sleep on the floor-"
"It's fine, Qi. We can be mature adults about this. We're not strangers or anything."
He gives you nonchalant shrug, "If you're sure."
You nod and head to the refresher to change. When you come back out, Qimir is already under the covers, having shed some of his outer robes.
You can't help the snort you let out when you see how close to the edge of the bed he is.
You slip under the covers, "Qimir, you're hanging off the edge, come closer. It's fine."
"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or-"
You use the Force to pull him closer.
He rolls over to face you, "Uncalled for."
You roll onto your side to face him, "You were being stubborn."
You two stare at each other, letting some moments of silence pass. The air shifts but you're not sure if it's just you that feels so. You feel a pull, a need to lean in and press your lips to Qimir. You've always found him attractive, but have pushed those thoughts down because you know you can't have him. Your priority is your training and your loyalty is first and foremost to your Master. Before you do anything drastic, you sigh, rolling over to face away, "Good night, Qimir."
"Good night," he murmurs. You hear the rustle of the sheets as he gets comfortable.
You close your eyes, trying to push away the feelings that began to bubble up in your chest and stomach.
"Do you still think your Master doesn't care for you?"
Your eyes shoot open and you immediately roll over, "Qimir...what?"
He sighs and rolls back over to face you, "Do you still think that your Master doesn't care about you?"
You shrug, "Kinda."
"Kinda?" he looks at you with creased brows and a frown.
You shrug and move your attention to a loose thread on the pillow Qimir lays on, "After the last mission, he said he immediately sent you away?"
"...yes."
You turn to lay on your back and look at the ceiling, "I guess the entire time I was out, he was taking care of me. When I woke up, he changed my bacta patch. He told me I had to be more careful." You pause to recollect more of that day, "I figured this was all because I wouldn't be useful to him, but then he said that wasn't why."
"So he does care," Qimir simply states
"I'm still apprehensive about saying that with certainty, but the small gesture appears that way."
You glance at Qimir as he moves to mimic your position, "And how does that make you feel?"
You run your hands down your face and you give a deep breath, "It's nice to be cared for and to care for someone. But...it's scary. Doing the things we do, you never know when someone can take that away from you. Or if that someone takes advantage of that care and betrays you."
You suddenly feel Qimir's hand take hold of yours, "I understand," he murmurs, "Your Master is still a person too. Maybe he struggles with the idea of caring for someone because it's been so long since he's done so."
"Maybe," you reply, not pulling your hand from Qimir's. It felt nice, having his hand in yours.
"Y/N?"
"Hm?"
"...can I hold you?"
You turn your head, looking at Qimir, you can see he's slightly embarrassed, but he's also being vulnerable...and you're feeling a little vulnerable too.
"Okay," you whisper and you move closer as Qimir wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him.
You let out a shaky breath. It's been so long since you've been held like this, cared for in such a gentle way. It's a complete opposite of how you've spent your time training under your Master.
You hope you can have more moments like these with Qimir.
Your body feels more at ease the more time you spend in his arms. Your eyes slowly flutter close and you're off to a restful sleep.
Meanwhile, Qimir remains awake a little bit longer. He stares at you, his apprentice, his acolyte.
"I'll do better," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head and pulling you closer to him as he listens to your breathing, leading him to sleep.
#qimir x reader#qimir imagine#the acolyte#the acolyte imagine#star wars#gn!reader#gender neutral!reader
492 notes
·
View notes
Text
Letting Loose
Daddy!Azriel x Mommy!Reader
Summary: Anon Req: How do you think daddy az and mommy reader would react if Zuzu went on her first date ever. Imagine how chaotic it would be, the whole family plus Rhys and cass’s fam stand behind her as her date walks up to her.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1880
Notes: I've missed the babies 💙💙
_________________________________________
“Tone the brooding down, mate,” you hiss to Azriel, who’s seething where he stands next to you. Azriel’s wearing that familiar face that screams murder, and his fingers keep twitching, itching to reach for the familiar knife sheathed at his hip.
To dispel the urge, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t like him.”
“You don’t even know the boy,” you tut, peering around the corner to where Zuzu keeps peeking out the curtains of the front bay windows of your home, eagerly awaiting her date.
It’s the quietest you’ve seen her, most nervous too. She’d allowed you and your second youngest, Malos, into her room while she prepared for the date, even letting you help her choose the perfect outfit. You could tell that Malos would have rather been anywhere else, goading Baz into a sword fight or Wren into chess, but even she seemed to sense your eldest daughters’ nerves. Malos even attempted to offer advice, which was quickly waved away by Zuzu, claiming that she hadn’t needed any advice at all.
An outright lie, because she stopped you on your way out the door, bashfully asking how your first date with Azriel went, her cheeks red with embarrassment from thinking about the both of you like that.
“Don’t need to,” Azriel mutters and you shoot a hot thrash of annoyance through your mating bond, berating him for his ill-willed words. You watch your mate flinch in his seat, looking up at you with those innocent hazel eyes and the look makes you want to roll yours. It’s accompanied by a cool feeling of an apology, knowing that if he doesn’t cut it out, he’s going to be in the doghouse tonight. “Sorry, my love. I just don’t like the thought of Zuzu…” He trails off like he can barely manage the word at all.
“Dating?” You question, eyebrows raised. Azriel’s eyebrows pull tight into a scowl again, quickly smoothing into that neutral stoicism that any of your children can recreate at the drop of a pin. It’s made figuring out which of the six was responsible for each mess they managed to get themselves into, but as their mother, you can see right through those masks they wear. You are married to the spymaster of the Night Court, after all.
“Please, don’t remind me,” Azriel groans, and he sounds like he’s taken an ash arrow to the delicate skin of his wings, which flex behind him. Such babies, these Illyrian males are. It makes you wish you hadn’t mentioned it to him like Zuzu pleaded you not to. “I can’t fathom it. She’s not old enough.”
You wish you’d requested the presence of Feyre and Nesta.
“She is,” you insist, keeping your voice low so your daughter doesn’t hear. “Your attitude isn’t helping the situation either, Azriel. Zuzu’s already a mess of nerves. Do you think that if she overheard you loathing the male that she’s smitten over that wouldn’t affect her in any way?” Maybe he’s hoping that it does.
“You’re right, my love,” Azriel sighs. He stands from his chair, crossing the room to where you stand and pulling you into his arms. “I’m just worried, is all.”
“Well, worry quieter,” you answer, squeezing him just as tightly. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the unsteady beat of his heart, riddled with worry. He has nothing to fret over, he’s made sure that Zuzu is better trained than any Illyrian warrior. Plus, she’s not even going on a date with a camp-goer, but instead a male born and raised in the heart of Velaris, whom you’ve heard nothing but good about. You might have done a little digging of your own when your daughter told you of this date, asking around town about the boy. Azriel isn’t the only sneaky one in your family. “If I had known how much you’d be sulking once I got to know you, I wouldn’t have—”
“Good evening, shadowsingers,” An all too familiar voice drawls. You jump in surprise, fingers tightening in the back of your mate’s shirt. They clench for an entirely different reason when you turn, seeing not only the High Lord of the Night Court standing in your kitchen, but with the army of his family and the Lord of Bloodshed’s as well. “Are we too late?”
“Just on time,” Azriel responds, trying to keep his mask of cool in place when you pinch him with a knowing look. One night on the couch wouldn’t hurt, he supposes.
On a brush of night-chilled wind, the rest of your children appear, the shadows swirling around the twins’ feet noting them of their extended family’s arrival.
You don’t miss the look of yearning Asteria gives an unknowing Wren.
You can’t wait to see how Azriel and Rhysand will react to that.
“What are you doing here?” Malos asks, snagging a pear from the bowl in the center of the island. She hops up onto the stone and unsheathes her knife, similar to Azriel’s beloved Truth-Teller, taking the blade to the fruit and eating the slice straight from the weapon.
You grimace, not wanting to know the places that blade has been.
“We’re seeing your sister off, of course,” Cassian scoffs, “Not that it’s any of your business, little miss.” He teases, snagging the next slice of fruit from the tip of her blade with the ease of a warrior well-honed for centuries. Had he been a lesser general, the knife would’ve gone straight through his hand.
You don’t even have it in you to scold your daughter.
“It’s entirely my business,” Malos retorts with a glare. You know that look she wears, and before you can scold her, she’s commanding her shadows away from Knox and tripping her uncle on his way around the corner of the counter. Cassian isn’t quick enough to see it coming, smug in thinking that he’s had the last laugh, but Malos is never one to give up.
He crashes down with a yowl to rival a Helcat’s, and it isn’t long before Zuzu is bursting into the packed kitchen, her mouth agape, her hazel eyes furious.
“What is going on in here?” She screeches, scowling at everyone except for Asteria who immediately glues herself to Zuzu’s side in a reassuring hug. Your daughters face softens slightly as she embraces her best friend, but her face returns to that rivaling your own when you’re scolding your children when she turns back to the rest of the family. “What on the continent are you all doing here?”
She looks to you, helpless and embarrassed, and the only thing that you can offer her in return is a sympathetic, sad smile.
In a family this large and tight knit, it’s inevitable that they’d pry.
“I think the real question is why are you wearing that of all things?” Baz teases, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter, looking like he’d rather be out on the town himself.
Normally, your children would go bat for bat with each other, but Zuzu must be more nervous than she’s trying to let on because her cheeks go crimson and she fists the long skirt in her hands, her eyes frantic. “What’s wrong with it? Is it too much?”
Her wings jostle at her back as if they’re begging to be shook, to expel the pent-up energy.
“Basil, go to your room,” you scold, ignoring your second eldest son’s groan of pain when Wren smacks him upside the head. You’re moving across the room toward your daughter, and you don’t like it either, the feeling of every single family members eyes on you as you place your arm on her shoulder in a consoling manner. “Zuz, come with me, baby.”
You guide her back into the front room where she was peering out the curtains in excitement only moments ago. Now, her shoulders are deflated, and her chin is downturned to the floor, hiding her sad eyes behind the draping black hair that reaches her waist.
It’s not a look you’ve seen often on your eldest daughter. She’s confident to a fault, but right now, she looks like she might just crumble.
“Don’t listen to your brother,” you say, sitting her on the plush loveseat and taking the spot next to her. You hold her hand in your own and when she refuses to look your way, you tip her chin up, forcing her eyes to yours. “He’s just jealous because he doesn’t have a date tonight and is stuck here, hanging out with your father and I.” It garners a short puff of laughter from your daughter. “You look beautiful, Zuz.”
“You really think so?” She asks, and you can see the lingering worry lining her iris’.
“Picked it out myself, didn’t I?” You ask incredulously, and thankfully, Zuzu cracks a smile.
“Mom,” Zuz whines playfully, cheeks tinging pink. Then softer, “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Zuz. I’m sorry about everyone showing up unannounced but I can promise you that your father will be hearing about it,” you say, emphasizing your words with a flare down the bond and a glare at the shadows creeping in the corners of the room. They disperse quickly at your words. “All you need to do is go have fun.”
Zuzu’s grin is beaming, her hazel eyes shining with delight. “I really like him, mom.”
“I know you do, sweetie,” you match her smile, patting her gently on the hand. She launches herself into your arms, squeezing you tightly.
A knock on the door startles the both of you away from each other and when your daughter pulls back you catch the quick glimpse of her nerves again before she’s taking a calming breath her aunt taught her and collects herself, looking like the prideful daughter you know her as.
“You better go answer the door,” you muse, “Before your father or one of your uncles gets to it first.”
She curses, springing from the couch and is gone in a rush of wind, calling out to the house as she rips the door open, “Wish me luck! Love you all even though half of you shouldn’t be here!”
Before anyone can respond to Zuzu’s goodbye, she’s out the door. And just like that, she’s on her first date.
Azriel slinks into the room, collapsing on the couch beside you. He knows that he has some groveling to do, if your glare is any sign, but right now he just wants to wallow. This is much harder than it was when Baz went on his first date. And second. And eighth.
“I still don’t like this,” he mutters, peeking out from behind the curtain and watching your daughter walk down the street with her date. “I should send some shadows with her.”
“You should leave her alone,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, pushing from the couch. You offer your mate a hand. You can berate him later for his actions, but now that Zuzu’s gone, you can’t ignore your own feeling panging in your chest. The one where you realize that your children really are growing up, and fast. “And you should go entertain your guests.”
#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel/reader#daddyaz#daddy!azriel#daddy!az#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fluff
574 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ameliorate
Fandom: Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer
Rating: Explicit- Minors DNI (18+ only)
Genre: Smut
Pairing: Sanemi/Female Reader
Tags: Female Reader, Penis in Vagina Sex, Bad Dates, Brief Mentions of SA, Oral Sex, Protective Genya, Protective Sanemi, Fucking you better, Slight Self-Esteem Issues, Mating Press, Sexual Tension, Sanemi is a lovable asshole
Wordcount: 5k
Ameliorate: To make something unsatisfactory better
After a bad date you spill the beans that you think Genya's brother is hot and he decides to fuck the memory of your shitty date out of you.
Cross-posted from my AO3 account.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
8627 45th Street SOS pls pick me up ASAP
The hastily sent text was minimal, blunt, and out of character for you. Usually, your messages were sprinkled with extraneous words, emojis, and “please” and “thank you”. You had no time for flowery language today; you needed a quick extraction.
You were hidden in the bathroom, date passed out on the bed after possibly the worst sex you’d ever experienced- for how long, you weren’t sure. Hopefully just enough for you to get out of here.
You weren’t known for making the best decisions and tended to go along with things longer than you wanted to in the name of politeness. It had landed you in many shitty situations, but this was by far the worst one. You rinsed your mouth with water in an attempt to wash the taste of the man who’d been far too rough with you from your palate, holding back the need to gag. You’d done enough of that today, and it was barely noon; a striking contrast to how you felt.
Your phone vibrated, Genya’s number lighting up the screen. You answered it with shaky fingers, keeping your voice low as you spoke.
“Hey.”
You hated how raspy it sounded. That’s what happens when an asshole doesn’t listen when you tell him to be gentle.
“You okay?” Genya’s concerned voice came through the speaker. “We’re almost there; what’s up?”
You appreciated Genya’s swift response but stiffened at his words.
“We?”
“I’m out with Nemi,” Genya told you.
Sanemi.
Genya’s big brother, and the last person you wanted to see you in this state. You couldn’t afford to be picky, though, when you were stranded at a stranger’s house after a variety of bad decisions.
“Just text me when you’re outside. Don’t honk or anything.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yeah…”
Just having a shitty day.
“We’re just around the corner,” Genya informed you.
“Okay. Be out in a sec.”
You hung up the phone and wished between your legs didn’t ache so badly, wished you weren’t half-limping from everything. There were likely bruises on your wrists and thighs, probably on your ass too if you were being honest. Under different circumstances you would’ve been proud of them, but today you only felt disgust.
You’d been so stupid.
Shuffling out of the bathroom on your tiptoes, you crept past the bedroom door that was left ajar, catching a glance at the man who’d cajoled until you caved, then didn’t listen when you said you weren’t fucking ready yet.
So stupid.
You berated yourself as you softly closed the door behind you for your walk of shame to the vaguely familiar SUV parked on the street. Genya twisted to look at you from the passenger seat as you slid in, avoiding his eyes. You knew you looked like a mess: mascara had streaked, and eyeliner was smudged, hair mussed beyond its normal windswept tousle, and it was a miracle that the majority of the damage inflicted on you was covered by your turtleneck.
“No car?”
“In the shop for repairs,” you kept your eyes glued out of the window, knowing Genya was worried but ashamed to meet his gaze. “I appreciate the ride. Didn’t mean to encroach on bro-time.”
“Not a problem,” Sanemi’s voice cut through the air as he pulled away. You shivered at his words, wetting your lips nervously. “You weren’t too far out of the way.”
“You okay?” Genya asked.
You wrinkled your nose, fighting the shame that filled your throat.
“Bad date.”
The following silence was uncomfortable, leaving you shifting against the leather seats. You knew Genya was probably fighting the urge to ask you if you wanted him to kick someone’s ass, and Sanemi… well, you didn’t know what he thought but you sure could guess what someone might think when they saw what you looked like after exiting a man’s house.
“Hungry?”
The question broke you out of your thoughts, and you caught Sanemi’s gaze in the rearview mirror. You’d eaten a couple hours ago, but after the day you’d had, you were starving. You didn’t realize how tense you were until just now, melting into the seat.
“Yeah, food sounds great.”
“Nemi and I were gonna grab something and then marathon Star Wars,” Genya told you. “You down?”
Your eyes flickered between the two brothers.
“Is that okay?”
“You’re over all the time already,” Sanemi replied nonchalantly.
It was true: you often dropped in or crashed at their place after work or on your days off to hang out with Genya. The two of you had been fast friends since you both worked the same shifts at work during high school. You’d moved on to other things, as had Genya, but your friendship had remained and grown as you did.
Sanemi worked quite a bit to provide for his younger brother and himself after an accident that left both of them orphans, and he was often gone when you and Genya hung at his place, but he’d found a better job recently that left him with more days off. With his schedule freed up a bit, he’d been around more while you crushed Genya at Mario Kart and experimented with new recipes in their spacious kitchen.
Sanemi had been little more than a passing thought before, but since seeing him more frequently, you’d developed a fascination with the scarred man with the shock of white hair. It wasn’t like the crushes you’d had on other guys- giddy, giggling things- but instead a hot coal in your stomach that left you uncomfortable and squirming when he was nearby. Sanemi was short-tempered and gruff, and had a permanent scowl on his face, but something about him made butterflies sprout in your chest.
It made you feel foolish, and you knew you’d die if Sanemi ever found out. You’d gone to great lengths to put physical and emotional distance between the two of you, a practiced civility that bordered on cold. It was the only way you could manage to keep yourself in check around him.
With the food acquired (taco bell was Genya’s favorite, much to Sanemi’s disdain), the three of you were back at the Shinaguzawa household in record time. Genya plopped on the couch, patting the seat next to him. You hesitated, the stickiness under your clothes itching uncomfortably now.
“Here,” Sanemi appeared out of thin air, thrusting a towel into your hands. “You know where the shower is.”
Your face heated as you slunk away, disappearing into the tiled bathroom. You must have looked pretty rough if Sanemi was telling you to shower.
Genya furrowed his brows disapprovingly at his brother as you vanished.
“I know you’re trying to help, but you should really work on how you talk to people.”
“Why?” Sanemi settled on the far end of the sofa.
Genya pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Because,” he groaned. “You don’t have tact.”
“I was giving her a towel; why does that need tact?” Sanemi turned the television on. “She obviously wanted a shower.”
“You’re useless,” Genya dug out his burrito. “It’s no wonder nobody will date you.”
Sanemi snatched the food from Genya with a glare, pushing him away with a socked foot when Genya complained and reached for the stolen bag.
“Biting the hand that feeds you means you’re gonna lose the food,” Sanemi told him.
“Genya!”
Your voice from down the hall had the younger brother craning his neck, Sanemi leaning back to peer down the dim hall curiously.
“I’m stealing some of your clothes,” you exited Genya’s room, holding up a handful of cloth. “And I’m borrowing your washer.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Genya nodded, watching you disappear into the bathroom.
The silence as Sanemi set up the movie was relaxed. Genya fished his food from the bag and set it far away from his brother, disposing of the trash as the sound of water reached their ears.
“So I guess you two aren’t fucking then?”
Genya choked on his burrito, slamming his fist into his chest. When he finally could breathe again, he turned his red face towards Sanemi with a glare.
“What the hell would give you that impression?”
“Look,” Sanemi plucked a cinnamon twist from its spot nestled in fast food paper. “I see you guys hanging out all the time. You’re close. I just figured-”
“We’re friends,” Genya cut him off. “She literally was on a date with someone today.”
“A shitty one,” Sanemi interjected.
Genya rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah, a shitty one. I swear she’s got the worst luck when it comes to dating. It’s like she’s an asshole magnet.”
“This happened before?”
Sanemi’s interest was piqued. He’d grown curious about the girl who showed up at the house to keep Genya company and use the kitchen at odd hours. You were incredibly sweet but had a sassy streak around people you were comfortable with. He’d heard you swear like a sailor over losing a game, but even from the next room over he could hear the grin in your tone. It did confuse him how you’d go from acting like you were in your own house while Genya was there, to suddenly stiffening and growing formally polite around him.
“Yeah, like four or five times. Usually, I’ll hear about it the next day, but she’s never called for a ride before.”
“She should’ve just told the guy no date until her car is fixed,” Sanemi took a swig of his drink. “That’d fix that problem. Can’t help with the bad taste in men, though.”
“I don’t have bad taste.”
Your voice cut the air sharply, and the brothers twisted around to see you standing behind the couch, hair damp and body swallowed by Genya’s clothes. Your embarrassed face was juxtaposed by the glare plastered across it. A few pale bruises peeked above the loose collar of the borrowed shirt.
“Then how do you explain consistently shit dates?” Sanemi countered, raising a brow.
Your face burned and you ducked your head between your shoulders.
“…bad luck?”
The white-haired man snorted into his cup. You scowled, plopping down on the couch next to Genya.
“I can’t help it men are pigs who don’t know what the word ‘no’ means,” you bit back, hackles raised at Sanemi’s reaction.
You didn’t think the air could get more uncomfortable, but here you were, starting to squirm as you did your best to avoid the piercing gazes of the Shinazugawa brothers. Genya’s whole body had leaned forward as his hands dug into the couch. Sanemi’s normal resting bitch face hardened farther and his eyes narrowed to pinpricks.
“I’ve got a crowbar in the garage-”
“Nemi!” Genya elbowed him before quickly turning back to you. “Unless… I mean unless you wanted-”
“No!” you shook your head, covering your face. This night was just getting worse the more you had to talk about everything. “I just want to forget about it. Can we watch the movie please?”
Familiar music filled the air as Star Wars began to play. You honestly didn’t care for the franchise all that much but it was a welcome distraction from your morning. You inhaled your food before snuggling down into the couch your lids grew heavy. You finally let them shut, unable to stay awake any longer as the hum of conversation and sound effects melted into the background.
Your dreams were staticky and punctuated by odd dialogue filtering in through your ears from the movies playing, but eventually you fell into a dead sleep, mind dark and empty as the exhaustion caught up to you.
When you jolted awake, the sun had gone down and the curtains were drawn, leaving the living room dark. The couch’s raised fabric pattern was imprinted on your cheek, accompanied by drool trickling from your open mouth.
Gross.
You wiped it away with the back of your hand, sitting upright. The living room was empty, food wrappers cleaned up and a fuzzy blanket laid over your body. Sanemi and Genya were nowhere to be seen. You pushed yourself up, reaching for your phone.
10:18PM.
Genya would normally still be up at this time. You picked yourself up off the couch and padded down the hall, knocking on his door.
No answer.
You opened it slowly, not wanting to get an eyeful if he was in the middle of choking his chicken or something else that would scar you for life. His room was entirely empty, bed uncharacteristically neat. Eyebrows knit together to create a crease.
“Do you always creep around like an intruder?”
Sanemi’s voice made you jump, spinning around to face him. You clutched your chest where your heart beat erratically from the scare, trying to hold back a scowl.
“Jesus Christ dude,” you spit out when you finally caught your breath. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” Sanemi crossed his arms. “Walk through my own house?”
“Surprise me,” you took a step back, gathering your wits. “In the dark.”
Sanemi reached over with one hand, flipping the light switch. The sudden harsh illumination made you squint, which did nothing to make your face look less irritable.
“Genya got called into work about two hours ago,” Sanemi answered your unspoken question. “He said you could use his bed if you wanted to.”
You peered back into the room behind you. Sanemi probably wouldn’t want to drive you home, so you supposed you could crash in Genya’s bed for the night. Wouldn’t have been the first time, and probably not the last. Genya always insisted you take his bed if you stayed the night anyway. He claimed the couch was more comfortable (a lie if you’d ever heard one).
“If it’s no trouble,” you pulled the blanket tighter. “I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”
Sanemi let out a long sigh, leaving you to side-eye him as he rolled his shoulders. When he finally quieted and brought his attention back to you, he looked both pissed and concerned.
“Is it something I did?”
You blinked owlishly, cocking your head.
“What?”
“You always do this,” he gestured to you. “You’re relaxed and chill when Genya’s here, but the moment I show up you get all… frosty. Did I say something to offend you?”
You shifted from one foot to the other, opening your mouth briefly before snapping it shut, trying to think before you said anything stupid. It didn’t work, as per usual.
“N-no, you just make me nervous-”
Sanemi’s face briefly reminded you of a kicked puppy, and you felt horrible. Of course he’d assume you were frightened of him because of his scars. You chided yourself mentally, attempting to fix your mistake.
“N-not like that!” you lifted your hands to wave them wildly, and the blanket slipped to the floor and puddled around your feet. “I just-you make me nervous because you’re hot!”
Both of you froze this time, and your face lit up bright red, ears burning as your mouth fell open and eyes bugged out at your slip of the tongue. You wished you could melt into the wooden floorboards of the hall.
Sanemi broke out of his stupor first, a slow grin spreading across his face. You would’ve run if you hadn’t been rooted to the floor in humiliation.
“Oh, is that it?” he leaned down, resting one palm flat against the doorframe near your head.
His face was close-too close to yours to be completely comfortable. You turned your head away, trying to calm your racing heart. There’s no way Sanemi was flirting with you. He was probably just being an asshole, right?
Right?
“Genya isn’t the only one who has a bed,” Sanemi’s smirk was crooked, eyes half lidded. His face swiftly softened when he noted your eyes flickering to your left and right like a frightened rabbit. He took a step back, allowing you your personal space again.
“Sorry,” he apologized, eyes gentle amidst the sharp planes of his face. “You just had a shitty date and here I am being a bad host. You’re probably tired.”
You hadn’t seen this side of Sanemi before much. You were used to his cocky glares and barking laughter. Not this gentle tone like someone coaxing a horse.
“You’re not bad,” you burst out, wanting to ease the tense atmosphere. “I just- I don’t… know how to act around you.”
Your face burned. How many embarrassing confessions would you make tonight? You were already at two and counting.
“I’m not a pig,” Sanemi echoed your words from earlier. “I know how to take a ‘no’.”
“I-it’s not a no!”
Sanemi’s gaze snapped back to you, shocked but curious. You bit your lip, clenching your fists.
“It’s… not a no. I’m just not sure-”
“If you’re not sure, then it’s the same thing,” Sanemi picked the blanket up from off the floor and looping it around your shoulders like a cape.
Your fingers snagged it without a second thought, anchoring it in place where he’d laid it. You weren’t sure where your eyes should settle, but risked peeking up at him. His eyes rested on your visage with a gentleness that rivaled the brush of his fingers as they withdrew from fabric around your body. Those lilac eyes were a little curious, a little resigned, and a little hungry.
You reached out with one hand, hooking your fingers in the hem of his shirt. He paused. You took a deep breath and stepped forward.
“I want you,” you maintained eye contact as you spoke- quite the feat when your heart was trying to escape through your throat.
Sanemi stared at you as if trying to gauge your sincerity.
“Please?” you tacked on as an afterthought, suddenly afraid that he’d laugh in your face or- worse- reject you outright for some other reason. You could thin of a million, but the one you worried most about was him thinking you were some kind of loose woman who slept around-
Hands threaded through your hair, and you felt lips on your own. You melted into the unexpected touch, anxiously moving closer until you were fully pressed against Sanemi’s body. Heat rolled off him comfortingly, and your hands twisted in his white tank top. His teeth nipped against your lower lip, forcefully requesting entrance. You granted it, running your tongue along his teeth, tasting mint and the faintest lingering bitterness of tobacco.
Cigarettes.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” you whispered as he broke away for a breath.
A brief embarrassed guilt flashed across his features before he shrugged.
“I’m working on quitting. Don’t want Genya to think it’s okay but… we all have our vices.”
You laughed, reaching up to touch his hair.
“Genya tried cigs and isn’t a fan, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
The look on Sanemi’s face was comical, and you held in a giggle. He glared behind you in the direction of Genya’s bed.
“The little fucker-”
“Hey, he’s a good kid,” you insisted, feeling more at ease speaking with Sanemi now that his hands were around your waist. It was both soothing and thrilling.
Sanemi crowded you against the wall, dropping his head until your gazes were level. His eyes bored into yours and it felt as if you were suddenly being interrogated.
“You two really aren’t fucking?”
The question took you aback a little bit, but you shook your head.
“He’s like my little brother.”
Sanemi’s grin split across his face, crooked and sharp. Your stomach fluttered as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, fanning his breath across your lips.
“Good. Because I’m taking you.”
Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, you were lifted off your feet and carried- with an undignified squeal- through the hall and into Sanemi’s room. When he dropped you on the bed, the air left your lungs in a gasp, and it took a second to get your bearings.
“If you say stop, or no, at any point,” Sanemi’s shirt was whipped off over his head as he approached the bed, “I’ll back off. If you can’t speak, tap me three times.”
Your eyes locked on his torso as you nodded dumbly, taking in the muscles and scars across his ribs and pecs, down his sides and crowning his hips. It took everything in you to tear your vision away to meet his face as he crawled over you, running his hand up your neck until he cradled your jaw.
“Now… how about I make you forget all about that shitty fucking guy from earlier?”
The kiss was soft and chaste, not what you expected after how heated things had gotten in the hallway. Sanemi’s hands reached for the edge of the t-shirt you wore- Genya’s t-shirt- and lifted it until it caught on your face, tugging a bit when your head was stuck until it popped off, leaving your hair mussed. He brushed the stray strands from your face, eyes dropping to your bare breasts.
Shit.
In the chaos of excitement, you’d forgotten about the marks left from your earlier date. Your hands immediately went to cover them in horror. Sanemi stopped you, grabbing your wrists and holding them from blocking his view. His lips pressed to each mark, scraping his teeth and sucking them until they grew darker. Each bruise was remarked afresh by his mouth until not one was left untouched.
Your head had fallen back, a trembling hum dragged from your lips at the feeling of Sanemi’s touch. He sucked a few new marks as well, higher up on your neck, making sure to lavish the juncture of your shoulder and throat with attention. Your hands dug into his hair, tugging and holding back a keen of pleasure.
“There,” he pulled back, satisfied with his work.
Your breath hitched, watching him slide his fingers under the satin basketball shorts clinging to your hips. Being fully exposed to Sanemi was frightening, your entire body going rigid, remembering the offhand snide comments you’d endured only hours ago in the same situation. Sanemi noted the way you wouldn’t meet his eye, ducking your head and pulling your legs towards yourself as if you were going to curl in on yourself.
“I can’t see your pretty face,” he lifted your chin with a finger, thumbing your lip. “I want you to look at me while I go down on you.”
Your face blazed red, and it crept down your neck until your chest flushed as well, watching Sanemi drop his face between your legs, forcing them apart while maintaining eye contact. You slowly eased yourself down until you were only propped up on your elbows.
“Ready, pretty girl?”
It was humiliating how your cunt fluttered at the words, and you nodded, transfixed by his cocky smile as he stuck his tongue out, just barely flicking the little nub that hid under its fleshy hood. The anticipation made you squirm a bit, even though the touch wasn’t enough to affect you. Sanemi hooked his arms around your thighs, anchoring you in place before burying his face against your hot core. Your back arched, a muffled moan fluttering past your lips as your nails scratched his scalp.
You could feel him grin against your cunt as his tongue dipped in and out, tracing the sides and up towards your clit. He avoided directly touching it until you were practically grinding against his face in desperation, desperate short whimpers huffed through your nose. Your lower lip was tucked under your top teeth, bitten and swollen due to your barely restrained desire.
“Please, Sanemi,” you finally gasped.
He pulled back, chin slicked with your juices.
“Please what?”
“You know what!” you whined.
Leave it to Sanemi to be an asshole while eating you out. You couldn’t really complain though- he was impressively good.
“Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Please,” you dropped your head to the sheets so you wouldn’t have to look at him as you spoke. “Let me cum.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
You shot up, glaring at Sanemi with a fury you didn’t know was in you. That pleased smirk was plastered on his gorgeously annoying face. You moved your legs so they locked behind his head, holding him in place.
“Don’t be a fucking tease!” you shook him a little by his cornsilk hair, just firm enough to show you weren’t a fan of his antics.
Sanemi huffed a laugh against your inner thigh. His mouth was already back on you, finally going high enough to reach that sensitive button that he’d been neglecting. You sighed in relief, thighs clenching around his face. It didn’t take long after that for that coil in your stomach to build, snapping and throwing you over the edge when Sanemi’s flat tongue caressed your clit.
He kept going despite your choked cry and the way you arched up off the bed, limbs shaking and legs shaking. When you finally couldn’t take it anymore your hands pushed against his head, forcing him away. He sat up, looking over your trembling body and heaving chest. Your eyes were closed, a ringing sound in your ears from the intensity of the orgasm that was currently acting like a muscle relaxer.
A muffled groan pulled you from your pleasure-induced haze, and your eyes slit open. Sanemi’s pants were gone, pupils blown out. You didn’t realize how hard he was already, the outline of his dick inside the confines of his gray boxers surprising you as he palmed himself through the fabric. His own breathing was labored, and he swallowed, noticing your eyes opening.
“You good, princess?”
You nodded, feeling a bit sleepy, but pushed yourself up until you were sitting.
“Up for another round?”
You reached out, a bit hesitant, but tugged on the waistband of his underwear. That was all the answer he needed, and Sanemi stripped out of them, fishing around in the drawer of his nearby nightstand until he was able to produce a condom. It was opened and rolled on in a flash. He nudged your legs apart, settling between them and lining himself up at your entrance. You were incredibly slick from your earlier orgasm, and he pushed in with little resistance. The intrusion was still unexpected, and your fingernails bit into his forearm. Sanemi let out a shaky breath as he bottomed out, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Good job, sweetheart,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to move.”
Instead of answering him verbally, you pushed up against him, grinding your cunt down onto his dick. The choked cry from his lips was like honey to your ears, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Fuck me, Sanemi,” you breathed into his ear.
You barely finished the sentence before his hips began pounding into you, a cacophony of grunts and groans escaping his throat. He grabbed your legs and folded them back, angling deeper into your sopping cunt and hitting something inside you that made your toes curl. Each thrust punched the air from your lungs, leaving you too breathless to even moan out your satisfaction. Sanemi’s grip on your legs was leaving bruises but you didn’t care. You were enveloped in the feeling of his cock drilling into you relentlessly, his eyes half closed as the veins in his neck and arms stood out from the force he applied with each movement.
“S-Sanemi!”
The strangled cry you managed to get out among the intense movement filled the hot air of the room. Sanemi’s grip tightened on your legs and his hips stuttered against yours. His mouth had fallen open, eyes lidded with pleasure. His groans rose in pitch until they were more whines than anything, and the staccato beat of skin on skin lost all rhythm.
Sanemi came with a long moan, his mouth dropping to your neck, suckling as he ground up against you, hands loosing their hold on your legs to scramble for your hips. The tension in your stomach snapped with the last few jerks of his hips, a pleasant buzz settling in your limbs and chest a second time as your walls fluttered around his pulsing member. Your arms draped across his shoulders in an embrace as he came down from his high.
It was too warm in the room, but neither of you made a move. You hummed into his soft hair in hazy satisfaction.
“That was nice,” your hoarse voice drew Sanemi’s eyes to your half-asleep face.
He chuckled.
“Just nice?”
You tousled his hair, feigning a pout.
“What, you need your ego stroked?”
Sanemi snaked his hand down your body, flicking your still-sensitive nub with a finger. Your body jerked involuntarily, a cry escaping from your lips. You whined at him, burying your face in your hands in embarrassment.
“I made you come twice,” Sanemi said. “How many times did that piece of shit you call a date make you come?”
You mumbled your answer, and Sanemi narrowed his eyes, gently abusing your clit again. You squirmed in an attempt to get away, but he was still buried to the hilt inside of you.
“He didn’t-” you said, fingers digging into the sheets on either side of you.
“That’s what I thought,” Sanemi ground against you, and you wriggled against the intense feeling of overstimulation. “Pretty girls like you deserve to be treated well, don’t you think?”
If you hadn’t been blushing before, you definitely were now. All you could manage was a nod as Sanemi slowly pulled out of you. You whimpered at the loss, feeling empty and cold as he tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash.
“What do pretty girls like you deserve?” Sanemi lifted your chin with his fingers.
“To be… treated well?”
Sanemi had a satisfied grin plastered on his face, and he kissed you deeply before pulling back and nodding.
“So how about you find yourself someone who’ll treat you like a princess?”
His words set your heart fluttering again, and you wet your lips, staring at him expectantly.
“Okay. Have any suggestions?”
His laughter huffed through his nose at your innocent and eager expression. Sanemi kissed the tip of your nose, cradling your jaw in his hand.
“You’re looking at him.”
#sanemi smut#demon slayer smut#kimetsu no yaiba#fic writer#fanfiction#demon slayer fanfic#sanemi x reader#kny sanemi#kny genya
640 notes
·
View notes
Text
contains: mean dom jongho x sub reader, kinda humiliation, kinda voyeurism, name-calling, guys i need him to yell and be mean to me so bad
minors dni
“You never listen.”
You attempt to scoot closer to Jongho as you kneel in front of him, his cologne still infiltrating your senses and clouding your thoughts. Even as he berates you for being a brat and annoying him to no end, he’s elegant. He holds your head up by your hair to make sure your eyes are focused on him, tugging every time he sees your eyes wander to his lap in front of you.
As much as he complains and punishes you, he likes your brattiness. He thinks it’s fun how you try to win again and again, even though you know exactly how it’ll end every time. With you crying and begging for mercy, asking for whatever punishment he sees fit. Your desperate pleas are so cute to him.
Jongho sighs as if his patience is at an end and lets go do your hair, “Take off my belt.”
You look up at him with a dumb look on your face and he challenges you with a raised brow, “Did you hear me? Take ‘em off, cockslut.”
Your eyes well up with tears at his words, but your hands still ache to grab him and make him feel good. The flurry of emotions is frustrating, “D-don’t call me that…”
He smirks down at you, alluring and intimidating but still your Jongho, “It’s what you are, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been sending me all those videos while I was at work. Cause you’re a cockslut.”
Jongho unbuckles his belt before bringing his pants down. He’s stiff and so fucking picturesque as pre-cum drips down the front of his boxers. The bulge in front of your eyes is already making you soak the carpet below you, but he grabs his cock and starts palming himself, excited by the sight of your pretty eyes leaking tears just for him.
“Shit…you wanna suck this cock, don’t you?”
You nod dumbly, hands twitching and moving towards him. You’re surprised when he tuts at you, bringing you to a stop as he removes his boxers and lets his cock spring free. It’s so pretty and chubby, leaking all over itself and you’re practically salivating at the sight before you.
He grabs his cock, firmly gripping the base before he starts jerking off right in front of you. The pre-cum makes it so easy for his hand to glide over himself as he keeps his hand moving with his eyes focused on you. Jongho grasps your chin, pulling your mouth open roughly and pushing onto your tongue with his thumb. He plans to keep you open and waiting for him.
He grunts through his motions, “You’re gonna sit there until I finish. Then you can show me how bad you want this cock, do you understand?”
Your bratty attitude breaks free at the sound of this, whiny voice calling out, “Jongho, no…”
Jongho drags his hand down to your tit, pulling it out of your tank top and tugging at your nipple as a deep groan reverberates through him, “Shut up. Keep your mouth open.”
You do as you’re told for once, satiated by the feeling of his hand toying with you as you can do nothing but sit there and let him. You enjoy being his little doll, to be used as he pleases. He keeps going, his hand moving faster as you play with your tits for him. Your mouth still hangs open in wait for him.
You know the tell-tale signs and sounds when he reaches his climax, you know everything about Jongho. It’s your job. As his groans become louder and deeper and his hand starts stuttering, you lean down and close your eyes as you feel his cum splatter onto your tongue, the salty taste satiating the smallest of tinges in your stomach. You feel a belonging and a pleasure fill you when he reminds you who you belong to.
Jongho drips his last remnants into your mouth with a flushed face and panting breaths, “You look pretty with my cum in your mouth,” you swallow when he finishes, bringing your tongue out again to show him and he smiles sadistically, “You just look pretty being my slut.”
Jongho leans down to press a kiss to your lips, fighting his tongue inside you to remind you who’s in charge. In case you forgot.
bom note: hi..im still here.. still thinking about freaky jongho. recently rewatched my fav movie (secretary 2002 pls watch if u want a good version of 50 shades of grey) and got inspired
#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fic#ateez oneshot#ateez scenarios#ateez texts#ateez smut#choi jongho#choi jongho x reader#choi jongho smut#jongho x reader#jongho imagines#ateez jongho#jongho smut
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
✮ enflame ✮
TW: bada being too fine for her own good, a little bit of possessive!bada, lots of protective!bada, cold!bada (to anyone who isn't you), super brief mentions of violence, bada having beef w your bodyguard, pushy men, btw the picture to the farthest right is purely for aesthetics and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!!
SUMMARY: you manage to tear bada away from her work for an evening of shopping, where the soft spot she has for you is unveiled.
part iii. bloody knuckles
WC: 2.9k
A/N: read this for more background on this au. this is not exactly a part two to the headcanons but i got this idea out of nowhere so yeahhh
DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada's actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!
From the moment Bada arose from her slumber, she sensed that her day would be draining. Usually, waking up before the sun had the chance to peak above the horizon wasn't difficult for her—so many years of doing so had made sleep fatigue all too familiar. However, last night, she stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning, something she typically tried to avoid.
So when her body starts to naturally wake up only a few hours later, she groans loudly into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut and mentally cursing her past self for staying up so late.
Although all she wants is to stay in bed more than anything, she forces herself to rise from her plush king-sized bed and tosses the warm sheets aside.
Briefly, she turns around to gaze at the spot where she had just been lying when a thought strikes her. You must be asleep in your own bedroom. Curled up in a similar, large bed, a pocket of heat cradling your figure while your chest slowly rises and falls. Your eyes must be tightly shut, eyelashes fluttering as you fight to remain asleep despite the rays of sunlight that will soon begin to peek through your curtains. Your soft lips must be pursed together. Your lips...
Bada wishes you both shared the same bed. She wishes she hadn't been so courteous to buy you a new bed, comfortable sheets, and all the amenities you needed when you first arrived. She wishes instead that you were lying in her bed. She wishes she could wrap her arms around you, and pull you close whilst you slept. She wishes she could foster a beautiful heat between your two bodies. She wishes she could run her fingers across your skin--
Bada shakes her head, sighs loudly, and turns away sharply from her bed. She rubs her eyes as she makes her way over to her dresser, mumbling berating words under her breath for thinking of you in such a way. It's not appropriate and beyond that, those types of thoughts lead to feelings, which she does not--cannot have for you.
Bada's day seems to worsen after dressing herself in her usual attire, a freshly ironed black suit and slacks. The fabric touches her uncomfortably, and still feeling the edges of sleep mar her vision, everything is suddenly bothering her.
But the final nail in the coffin is when Lusher, one of Bebe's most trusted mafia members, walks into her office hours later, carrying a tray of breakfast.
Immediately looking up from the papers in front of her, Bada expects to see your lovely face greet her, but is met with Lusher's cheeky expression instead. She tries not to display her palpable disappointment, but concealing her feelings has never quite been her strong suit. Her mother had told her this many times when she was younger.
"Don't jump out of your seat in excitement, now." Lusher jokes, placing the breakfast tray on the desk.
Bada's lips tighten into a firm, thin line as she stares down at the food, feeling her hunger quickly escape her. "Thanks."
"I know I'm not who you wanted to see, but I can't lie, your disappointment hurts me." Lusher moves a hand to her chest, acting like she'd been wounded.
Bada sighs, shaking her head. "Why isn't she here this morning?"
"Still in bed, apparently." Lusher clasps her hands behind her back. "We found her asleep on the couches late last night. She must have been waiting for you to leave your office so she could wish you a good night, but ended up falling asleep out of exhaustion."
The butterflies that dance in Bada's stomach internally, are a stark contrast to the disapproving expression she wears externally. "I've told her many times not to wait up for me. It's not healthy to be staying up so late."
Lusher sighs dramatically. "You're telling me. How many times have I asked you to head to bed earlier?"
"That's different." Bada denies while picking up her golden ink pen and continuing to write. "I have work to do. Waiting so late into the morning just to wish me a good night is..."
"Sweet? Incredibly kind, and definitely a testament to how endearing your fiancée is?"
Bada clicks her tongue in annoyance. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have something better to do than bothering me?"
"You know there's nothing I like more than bothering you." Lusher shoots back with a sly smile.
Bada tried to continue working, she really did. She attempted to push through filling out papers, even though her wrist was screaming at her to take a break. However, come midday, she was already fed up.
Ruffling her hair and groaning loudly, Bada stands up from her table, the chair she'd been sitting out whining loudly against the floor. She wastes no time in shuffling to the door, grabbing the handle, and pulling it open.
Right when she does, she catches a flash of your figure walking down the hall toward her, your bodyguard only a few paces behind you. As her gaze connected with yours, she felt as if the world transformed, shifting from monochrome sketches to vibrant watercolor paintings
"Oh." You speak first, an easy smile finding your lips. "Good afternoon, Bada."
"Good afternoon." She greets back, trying her damnedest not to sound overjoyed at your presence. "Were you coming to see me?"
"I was." You nod. "I just wanted to let you know I'm planning on going to the mall."
"Are you now?" Bada says absentmindedly, her hand coming up to clutch at her tie and loosen it. The fabric suddenly feels much too tight around her neck.
"Yes..." You trail off, your eyes taking in how Bada's pale and lithe fingers grab at her tie and jostle it around, making it dangle a bit messily across her collarbones. Such a simple action should not be so attractive, no--it shouldn't. It's really ridiculous how easy it is for your fiancée to be so naturally alluring.
"That sounds nice." She hums. "Are you looking to buy something in particular?"
"No, not really." You shake your head. "I'm really just going to look around, and not stay at home all day."
Home. Bada's heart warms at you calling the mansion you both reside in your home. Although it technically is, it's different for you to perceive it as such. It means you feel comfortable here, with her--living with her--
"You should come with me." Your voice brings Bada out of her stupor, her eyes immediately finding yours.
Her mouth opens and closes dumbly, a clear look of shock painted across her face. She tries to quickly gather her bearings, half-heartedly muttering out, "I--I wish I could, but I have a lot of work to do--"
"Bada, all you do is work," you remark, crossing your arms over your chest. She has to force herself not to think about how cute you look doing so. "You deserve to have some downtime. Even if it is only for a few hours."
She stands there, still a bit shell-shocked, staring at you before her eyes shift to the figure behind you, finding your bodyguard, who is trying very hard to conceal her amused smile behind a shaky hand.
Bada's gaze turns icy as she eyes down your bodyguard, prompting the subordinate to immediately turn away and dispel her smile. "All right. I'll come with you."
"Wait, really?" You awe, your eyes going wide and your smile growing. "I didn't think you'd actually say yes."
"Well, you're right. I do need a break. At the rate I'm working at now, I'll never do anything productive by the end of the day." Bada admits with a tired smile. "Are you ready to go, then?"
"Yes." You begin to nod, but your smile slowly turns into a frown. "But you should change into different clothing."
For the second time that day, Bada is left surprised by your boldness. "Change? Why?"
"Don't you want to wear something other than a suit for once?" You ask innocently. "It seems... stuffy to be in it all day."
"Stuffy." She laughs breathily. "I guess you're right." Bada looks between you and your bodyguard. "Will you be all right to wait for me?"
"Of course." You smile.
"Great." She smiles back.
When Bada comes back, she isn't wearing her usual black suit. And although you'd been the one to suggest it, you're not quite ready for how amazing she looks in casual clothing.
A black leather jacket is draped over her shoulders, with slick white lines running down the sleeves and across the chest. She has paired the jacket with matching black leather pants and a black shirt.
In that moment, you want to scream at whatever higher power exists for making your fiancée so unfairly attractive. How were you supposed to act normal around her when her mere presence makes you hot below the collar?
Well, despite your internal struggles you give her a compliment before you're off to the mall, hopping into a sleek black sports car and speed away.
Your first destination in the large mall is a relatively luxurious clothing store. You can't lie; you had wanted to go into the store since you passed it on one of your trips to the mall without Bada, but you were too intimidated to enter. However, now, with her by your side, you feel much more comfortable stepping into the expensive store.
Approaching the door, your bodyguard begins to step forward, about to open the door for you like she always does, but Bada is quicker. She grabs onto the handle and opens the door, stepping aside to make room for you to walk in.
You look at her and smile while mumbling a soft thank you, to which she gives you a small smile back and nods. Your bodyguard begins to walk in after you, but again Bada is faster and enters the store, letting the door swing closed behind her. It almost hits your bodyguard in the face, making her flinch back and sigh.
"Keep a look out from there," Bada tells her sternly through the glass doors.
"Yes, Boss," your bodyguard begrudgingly mumbles back, understanding that this is payback for teasing your fiancée earlier.
Bada turns back around, her eyes easily finding you in the small crowd of people. You're looking around the store with wide eyes, a smile gracing your lips as you observe the embellished clothing around you. She smiles fondly to herself, finding every expression of yours much too cute for your own good.
However, before she can make her way to you, the familiar sound of a voice greets her from behind. Turning around, she finds In-Su, one of her business partners and the owner of the clothing store. Greeting him back, an air of professionalism immediately envelops her as she begins to engage in conversation with him
Meanwhile, you're in your own personal heaven. The clothing you've been browsing is exactly your style, and despite the high prices, you know you can afford it all, thanks to the black credit card Bada had gifted you.
A few minutes later, your hands are already starting to get full as you reach to pull another article of clothing from the rack when you suddenly feel a firm force push into your side, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. making you lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. Thankfully, you manage to steady yourself before you do, huffing while turning to your right to see what--or more accurately who--had bumped into you.
"Excuse me." A well-dressed man stands a few feet away from you, his lips forming a snobbish frown.
Despite your irritation, you instinctively apologize. "Oh, sorry--"
"It's fine." He cuts you off, eyeing you up and down. "You should be careful where you stand."
Internally, you scoff at the man, but externally, you only mumble another half-hearted apology before turning away and walking down another aisle.
"Have I seen you before?" The man follows after you.
"I don't think so." You answer back flatly, trying to ignore him and busy yourself by flipping through pairs of jackets.
"I swear I've seen you before. I never forget the face of a beautiful woman."
This time, you're unable to control your expression and outwardly cringe. Is this random man who bumped into you flirting with you right now? After acting so rude?
You say nothing to him in response, choosing to completely ignore him instead.
"You know, when someone compliments you, it's common courtesy to say thank you."
Now you're starting to get increasingly anxious. You don't feel brave enough to confront the man, but he doesn't seem to understand that you're not interested and clearly uncomfortable with his advances.
Taking your silence in offense, the man scowls before grabbing your wrist rather roughly, making you drop all the clothing you'd been holding, and twists you around to face him.
You gasp at his painful hold, attempting to break away from him but unable to due to the sheer strength of his grip. "Let me--" you begin, but the words die in your mouth upon seeing someone standing behind him.
The man, who had been staring you down, notices the shift in your expression and suddenly becomes aware of a very strong presence behind him. He turns around, still gripping your wrist, and comes face to face with a scarily calm Bada Lee.
"Do you need something?" He snaps at her dumbly.
Bada stares down at him with steely eyes, her expression so devoid of emotion you're almost terrified for him. "I believe I should be asking you that question. Is there a reason why you're touching my fiancée?"
The man looks between you and Bada, scoffing disapprovingly. "Tch, she didn't tell me she was engaged."
"Even if she wasn't, in what world would it be appropriate to touch a woman who clearly isn't interested in your pathetic advances like that?" She asks rhetorically, her voice rising with every syllable. Clearly, her anger was getting to her.
The man grits his teeth, feeling his ego bruise because not only is Bada embarrassing him, but she's also easily intimidating him with her presence. "Hey, just who do you think you are?" He raises his voice to match hers.
"I think the real question is," Bada takes a step closer, leaving hardly any space between her and him, "who the fuck do you think you are?"
In that moment, the man's entire demeanor shifts. He turns to look around the store, finding every shopper, worker, and even the store owner staring back at him, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes set into firm glares. Some of them have their hands in their pockets or are grabbing something hidden next to them. His face pales, and looking back at Bada, her face starts to become familiar. He hadn't recognized her out of her normal formal attire, but now--
He gulps, quickly letting go of your wrist like your skin burned him and steps away from you both, his posture shrinking. He starts to make his way toward the exit, attempting to ignore the stares of everyone in the store but is stopped before he can make it out.
"And where do you think you're going?" Bada's hardened voice echoes through the store, making the man freeze in his spot, his entire body going rigid.
Bada's footsteps slowly approach him from behind again and stop just shy of him.
"You made her drop her clothing."
The man turns around, avoiding eye contact with Bada and finding your eyes instead. He's about to mumble an apology when she speaks up again.
"Pick it up." She demands flatly.
The man stays still in his spot, shocked and embarrassed. But clearly, he didn't move fast enough for Bada's liking, because he feels himself get shoved in your direction, almost falling onto his face.
"Do it. Now." She says, her voice bordering on yelling.
Immediately, the man throws himself onto the floor, scrambling to pick up every article of clothing he made you drop. He does so as quickly as possible, then stands up, about to pass you the clothing, when he feels Bada's unwavering gaze bore into him and decides it's in his best interest not to touch you anymore, so he carefully drapes the clothes across your arms.
He turns back to face Bada, approaching her with a cold sweat.
"Hold on." She stops him yet again. "You bumped into her, didn't you?"
"I--" He tries to explain himself but is cut off.
"Apologize."
This time, the man wastes no time in fulfilling her demands. He turns to you, apologizing profusely while shaking like a leaf. You're unable to even think about accepting his apologies before he practically runs to the store doors, throws them open, trying to leave the mall. But as always, Bada is ten steps ahead.
She nods at your bodyguard, who grabs onto the man's suit with little effort, turns him around, and punches him straight in the gut.
Bada then steps in front of you, blocking you from seeing what your bodyguard is doing to the man. Her hands grab the clothing from your arms, relieving you of their weight before slinging them across her right shoulder. She then gently holds your wrist up to her eyes, the ice behind them shifting to a warm and caring glow.
"Does it hurt?" She asks softly.
You feel your body turn to mush at the attention she gives you. "A little."
Bada sighs, leans in, and places her soft lips against your wrist, kissing it with a reverence and sweetness everyone besides you is surprised to see.
It's clear to everyone that the ice around Bada's heart melts only for you.
enflame: to excite to excessive or uncontrollable action or feeling
920 notes
·
View notes