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yuujispinkhair · 4 months

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Sukuna showing you his love and appreciation on Mother's Day

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). fluff + smut. wc 2k

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (female receiving), creampie, praise, pregnancy. Reader and Sukuna already have a daughter together, and reader is pregnant with Sukuna's second baby. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear + @/qqmaiztwsse. This story can be read as part 2 of this baby daddy Sukuna story, but you don't have to read the first part.

You wake up to the mattress shifting under Sukuna's weight, as he is carefully untangling himself from you, trying not to wake you up. You blink sleepily and watch your husband get up, unable to tear your gaze away from Sukuna's broad, tattooed back and the way his buff muscles move when he stretches.

Of course, he catches you checking him out and smirks that typical charming smirk at you as you are about to sit up. But Sukuna is quicker. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek and pushes you gently back down on the pillow,

"Uh uh, no getting up yet. I still need time to prepare some things. Go back to sleep, darling. Happy Mother's Day."

You smile and snuggle back into your blanket, watching Sukuna getting dressed before he leaves the bedroom with one last look over his broad shoulder and an amused wink.

When you wake up the second time that morning, the lovely scent of coffee and freshly baked muffins drifts to your nose. And the loud chatter of your little daughter and Sukuna. You grin to yourself as you hear them in front of the bedroom door, arguing over who gets to wake you up.

"She is my mommy and not yours!"

"But she is my wife!"

"Oh, Daddy, don't be stupid! It's called Mother's Day, not Wife's Day!"

You hear Sukuna sigh dramatically, and you can practically see his amused grin and the way he rolls his beautiful maroon eyes in mock exasperation.

"Ok, ok, I will let you wake her up, princess. Do you have your present?"

The answer seems to be yes because a second later, the door gets pushed open, and your daughter runs over to the bed and jumps onto it, pushing the gift she made for you in kindergarten in your face: A painting with a heart and flowers and four figures, you, her, and Sukuna, and in your tummy little baby number two.

You thank her profusely, hugging her and letting her explain the painting to you when Sukuna joins you on the bed with a beautiful rose bouquet in his arms and a little gift bag from your favorite skincare brand.

You smile at your little princess and your husband, thanking them for the gifts and marveling at how similar they look. She has your eyes, but you can see her father's features in her pretty face, and when her lips lift in a grin, it is a 100% match to the grin that you love so much on Sukuna's face.

You lift your head to look at Sukuna, realizing that he is watching you and your daughter too. There is an unguarded, soft expression on his beautiful, tattooed face. An expression that makes your heart fill with tenderness for this tough man who is so good to you and your daughter.

A strong arm wraps around your waist at that moment, and Sukuna pulls you closer to him. And you cup his cheek and smile at him as he closes the small distance between you to kiss you, but not before he whispers, "Thank you."

The breakfast table is overflowing with things. The coffee and homemade muffins you already smelled, but also various sweet and savory treats from the bakery down the street. And flowers that your daughter picked this morning with her daddy in the park.

You smile as you imagine big, tall Sukuna with his intimidating tattoos and arrogant smirk, picking pretty flowers with his little daughter and the looks the two of them must have received from the grandmas taking their morning walk in the park.

You get up to help with the dishes after you're finished eating, but Sukuna sends a stern look your way, shaking his head,

"What do you think you are doing? Sit back down."

He points at his daughter,

"You stay here and make sure your mommy doesn't lift a single finger."

You laugh and lean back in your chair, taking another sip from the orange juice as you watch Sukuna do the dishes and clean the kitchen.

The three of you spend the rest of the day together, going on a long walk in the park. Your little one is running ahead while you and Sukuna stroll leisurely side by side, with his arm around your waist or you leaning against his side and holding onto his biceps.

You make a stop at an ice cream parlor, eat ice cream, and drink coffee afterward while your daughter plays on the playground in front of the little shop.

Before you know it, Sukuna has pulled you onto his lap. He holds you with one arm while he sips his coffee with the other and grins that boyish grin at you that always makes your pulse flutter, no matter how often you see it.

Sukuna's large hand is sprawled over your belly, where the swell of your baby bump is already visible. He caresses it absentmindedly, making you smile because you know how proud he is that you are pregnant with his second baby.

And right at that moment, a soft kiss lands on your shoulder, and Sukuna murmurs in a sexy low voice, only for you to hear,

"You are so beautiful, mommy."

When it's time to go home, your daughter, of course, complains loudly that she doesn't want to leave yet, but Sukuna just jogs over to her with a smirk, plucks her off the jungle gym with ease, and casually throws her over one shoulder.

You laugh when you see her kick her little legs and scream, only to realize a minute later that it's very comfortable to get carried by her daddy, and she stops struggling and instead slumps lazily onto her father's broad shoulder.

Sukuna's low laugh joins yours,

"You are acting like a sack of rice. Be careful I don't mix things up and accidentally make dinner out of you."

"Oh yeah? And you look like a strawberry with your pink hair. Be careful I don't make dessert out of you, Daddy!"

"Well, I would definitely make a great dessert! But I have to inform you that I am actually a full-course meal, young lady."

You burst out laughing again, affectionately ruffling your daughters and Sukuna's hair, thinking how similar they are not just in looks but also in their personalities.

Your daughter still refuses to walk on her own, but luckily, Sukuna is strong and doesn't even break a sweat while carrying her all the way home to your apartment. And you grin to yourself, knowing how loving Sukuna is when it comes to his little family. A strong and protective man who would do anything for you and your babies. Your little daughter has calmed down again, too, and snuggles against Sukuna, hugging his neck and almost falling asleep right there on her father's shoulder.

A few hours later, your apartment is quiet, with your daughter fast asleep in her room, and the lights dimmed.

And Sukuna and you have some time only for each other.

He pulls you into his strong arms, pressing his tall, firm body against yours, and kisses you thoroughly. Tender and deep kisses that make your knees weak.

And when your lips part, there is this tender expression on Sukuna's face that is only reserved for you.

"Thank you for all the love you give our little brat. And all the love you give me. Thank you for making this apartment a home. I never thought I would have a real home or a real family. But you gave me all that and I am so grateful for you. I love you, darling."

Sukuna swoops you up in his strong arms and carries you to your bedroom while you smile at him with tears in your eyes, telling him that you love him too, while you caress the short hair of his undercut, your heart feeling so full.

You lock the bedroom door and immediately begin to undress each other on your way over to the large bed. You moan at the feel of Sukuna's buff muscles under your hands, and he groans when he places you on the bed and lets his hungry gaze travel slowly over your naked body.

There were times when you felt insecure and ashamed at the thought of being so exposed to someone's gaze. But not anymore. With Sukuna, you feel desired, loved, and your body reacts to his loving gaze, your nipples hardening and your pussy wet and yearning for Sukuna's cock.

He leans over you, so tall and big but so loving. Sukuna always spoils you in bed, but especially tonight, on Mother's Day, the day that exists to show you his appreciation.

You are drowning in bliss as Sukuna's lips and tongue wander down your body slowly, loving you, worshipping the body of the woman he loves, the body of the mother of his children. He makes you feel sexy like no other man before him did, even with the changes your body went through after the first pregnancy and your current pregnancy.

You mewl softly when Sukuna plays with your sensitive breasts, which are already filling out more again due to the pregnancy hormones, cupping them with his large hands and sucking gently on your stiff nipples. His mouth wanders to your swollen belly, trailing kisses over the bump where his baby number two is growing.

Your hips buck needily when Sukuna pushes your legs apart and trails tender kisses over your inner thighs before he reaches his goal and slowly makes out with your swollen clit. Your heart is racing, your mind hazy as you give yourself to your husband completely, letting him pamper you and show you how grateful he is for you.

Your first orgasm that night is on Sukuna's tongue. Hot pleasure explodes inside you while your fingers twist in his pink hair and tug on it as you throw your head back and moan his name softly, shuddering on his velvety mouth as he licks and kisses you through your high.

The second one is on Sukuna's cock when he takes you with slow but deep thrusts while you lie on your side so it's comfortable for you with your baby bump. And Sukuna is behind you, his strong muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you while he rolls his hips against you, fucking his long and thick cock deep into you.

Sukuna's face is buried in your neck, and you get blessed with hearing his sexy, low moans. One of his large hands is on your pregnant belly, while the other is between your legs, caressing tender circles around your clit. His lips brush over your neck, kissing you, moaning softly in utter bliss and devotion, and whispering to you how beautiful you are, how sexy, murmuring his praise and love to you in that sexy, hoarse voice that drives you crazy.

Sukuna's hand clamps over your mouth just in time for your orgasm, and you squeal into his large hand as you cum on his cock, twitching and clenching on him, milking his hot, sticky seed out of him, that he spills into you with a low, guttural moan.

You stay in that position afterward, cuddling while lying on your side, Sukuna hugging you tightly from behind, his thick cock still deep inside you.

You lazily trace the tattoos on Sukuna's wrists with one hand while your other hand reaches behind to tangle in Sukuna's soft pink hair as you turn your head to let him kiss you tenderly.

"You are so fucking beautiful. I might just make you a mommy again."

"I imagine that to be a bit hard when I am already very pregnant with your baby, Kuna."

And he laughs and kisses your shoulder, his smile evident in his voice,

"Doesn't mean I can't try."

HE IS SO 💗💗 Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed your time with Daddy Sukuna ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk fluff #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #tw pregnancy

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rene-spade · 7 months

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growing up räikkönen | f1 grid

fem! reader x räikkönen family, f1 grid

note(s): reader is kimi’s eldest daughter 👍 2nd pov but for the plot reader has a name. We start off in the 2021 season, reader becomes a driver for mclaren the 2022 season. main idea is everyone is obsessed with her lolol

Warning(s): potentially triggering relationship dynamics, some obsessive behavior tbh bc i like em crazy, mostly cute stuff tho!

GROWING UP RÄIKKÖNEN MEANS having a chaotic first few years, but with your father everything always works out. kimi isn’t even 22 when you’re born (2001), and your mother is just a fling who sadly passes away before you turn one, but you are his world. he melts at the sight of his eldest daughter; the one who he raised as his alone. Sure, you’ve had a couple step moms, but only one father who happens to be the protective type. You grow up in the f1 paddocks because kimi doesn’t like being apart from you for too long. even with his marriage to jenni, he has her watch you during his races. Just the racing part though, he commonly totes you along with him during anything he can, even media duties. due to his own upbringing, your schooling is the highest of priorities, but it’s still a guarantee you know how to drive anything by age 16. He wants you to be prepared for anything life throws at you, though of course he wouldn’t let you do it alone.

♤ ♤ ♤

SOME DAD! KIMI THINGS; childhood

he named you after himself (kimi -> miki, unoriginal)

when you were ages 1 month - 6 years, he took you everywhere with him

he nicknames you “lumienkeli” snow angel in finnish

his first tattoo was a portrait of baby-you with your full name and birth date

kimi can’t say no to his little girl, so you end up bringing all kinds of stray pets home, even from other countries

you and step-mom jenni iconic duo

uncle seb vettel and michael schumacher (who babysat you growing up) buying you and kimi matching outfits

kimi is very bad at documenting things properly, so jenni organized and labeled his entire “isä ja miki-mäiri” photo album. after they divorced, minttu took over that position, adding robin and rianna.

no-dating rule implemented as soon as you mention a crush at school (you were 6)

crazy dad! kimi who tried to run over your first boyfriend with a snowmobile

a responsible drinker around his sweet daughter but when you’re home attending school, he has his iconic drinking benders (championship era all the way to his divorce era)

kimi who learns to braid hair so you can keep your hair tidy and untangled beneath your first helmet

you are his mini-me (mostly, just in the ways he intended)

♤ ♤ ♤

Twitter; self-ran

♤ ♤ ♤

Instagram; self-ran

♤ ♤ ♤

photo album; written by kimi-matias räikkönen (edited by jenni dahlman and minttu räikkönen)

äiti ja miki-mäiri lumienkeli mik ja isä

2001 <3 (2004)

isosisko miki, minun miki-mäiri miki-mäiri ja robin ja rianna 10th syntymäpäivä setä rami (2006)

miki ja jenni <3 isän vauva miki-mäiri ja

(2003) (kesäkuuta 2002) serrku justus

♤ ♤ ♤

this is the introduction to this fic / au. Please send asks to get the ball rolling! If you don’t know kimi lore, this might not make much sense oops

- ren

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mapileonxputellas · 10 months

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Beckham II: 1 New Beginning

Please find instagram aesthetic here.

Post here explains how I've wrote it, I think it's quite simple.

This is the first part of my new series and I hope you enjoy xx (3k words)

“Do you ever think about how crazy it is that you’re an icon in Barcelona and yet your dad played for Real Madrid?”

“I try not to think about that. I think that bothers him more than me.”

“Does he have any Barcelona shirts?”

“Of course he does.”

…..

“David, how does it feel watching your daughter play for Barcelona?”

“It’s the best feeling in the world. I’m guessing you were expecting some kind of rivalry but I’ll always support my daughter.”

…..

Barcelona, February 2023.

One down, nine to go.

It was like clockwork in your brain. Training would finish, everyone else would rush to get back into the training room and get back to their everyday life. Yet here you were, on your own, just how you like it. You and the ball. Free kick after free kick after free kick. Ten in total, all from different areas, all with different aims but each one just as equally important in your brain.

Barcelona was a dream. You were here with the best players in the world but you hated letting anyone down. Every little mistake was over-analysed, picked at all because of who you were. At the weekend it was a wonder save which stopped one nestling in the top corner but that didn’t matter. It hadn’t gone in and therefore didn’t meet your expectations.

The expectations you put on yourself, multiplied by that moment four years ago.

You loved your father but many people probably didn’t understand that there wasn’t a gene for taking good free kicks.

Unbeknownst to you, all of this was about to change. “You’ve got a visitor.”

“If it’s another journalist, tell them I’m not interested.”

You couldn’t be bothered with whatever reply the press officer would tell you. It was the same every day. Someone wanted to speak to you, you said no. They came back the next day.

You’d think they’d get bored after four years of consistent turn aways but that was never the case. You did the press conferences, the interviews after games but a sit-down full-length interview was not something you felt like you could ever handle.

So you carried on, resetting the ball in the correct spot. Back to just you and the ball.

For February it was a sunny afternoon in Barcelona, the sun was still shining for the mid-afternoon with minimal wind. Perfect conditions to practice and as your teammates had pointed out you hadn’t needed any more persuasion to get that training vest on, your tattoos on full show. Along with football they were your biggest passion, your phone was full of tattoo inspiration and little doodles you did when you were bored, they were a big part of you and maybe the image you wanted to create for yourself.

You took inspiration from everything, football, the environment, your father. Growing up many would say you were already a carbon copy of him but the tattoos were the icing on the cake. Your mother may not have been as happy about them but they promised to accept all your passions and that included turning up every few months with a new collection of tattoos to show off.

…..

“Maria, is she copying you?”

“You’ll have to ask her. No of course not, I would say we take great inspiration from each other. We’ve got a few matching ones, I’ve done a few on her and she’s done the same to me. That’s kind of what started our friendship.”

“You both have ‘looks can be deceiving’ on your necks, is that true for her?”

“Depends on what you think of her. Maybe some find her scary but you have to find out if that’s true yourself.”

…..

You could hear someone approaching you, watching as you took the next kick nestling it into the bottom corner underneath the imaginary wall.

“Y/N, have you got five minutes?” The unmistakable voice of Sarina. Many people would love Serena Weigman to turn up at their training session, not you. Not now.

Shit. You almost didn’t want to turn around. Maybe if you stayed facing the other way she would leave. Leave you be in the bubble you’d created for yourself, nothing good could come out of this conversation.

But of course the Dutch woman wasn’t going to leave that easily, edging closer to you. “I only want to talk.”

“I gave you my answer a year ago.”

“Lots can change in a year. Five minutes. If you still want me to leave after, I’ll leave.”

Maybe it was worth hearing what she had to say. Nothing could change your mind anyway, you’d hear whatever she had to say and then she could leave.

You knew what she was here for and it didn’t surprise you what came out of her mouth next. “I want you back, I name my squad next week and I want you ready to play for us at the World Cup.”

“And I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“The fans are not that accepting, the players don’t deserve to be drawn into that drama because of me.”

“There’s always drama in football.” Maybe she had a point but off the back of the Euro’s success the lionesses have had nothing but positivity from the media and public. “We’ve lost Beth, we’ve lost Fran and I think the players would welcome your experience in that position. It’s your decision but I know deep down you want to prove people wrong and I want to give you that opportunity.”

“Some would say I don’t deserve that.”

“It will be different this time.”

“How?”

“It’s been four years, everything’s changed. We protect you guys, you have support systems in place, we have support systems. It’s not individuals anymore, it’s a team.”

“I made that decision to protect myself.” Almost four years ago you’d sent that letter, asking not to be selected for international duty again. They had no choice but to accept it and when Serena came into the role she approached you but you told her a tournament on home soil was not something you could mentally cope with. Not yet. “Why would now be different?”

“I’ve watched every game you’ve played in the last 18 months. I know you may not see a difference in yourself but I do, the interview after you lost to Lyon showed your spirit, your drive. I need players like you, it won’t be easy but I don’t want something that happened four years ago to stop you showing the world how talented you are.”

You were conflicted. Of course you’d love nothing more than to prove all those who bashed you before wrong, to make a difference on the world stage after winning every trophy you could with Barcelona. On the other hand it was just opening a can of worms you’d hidden all those years ago. Although you were only in Spain it felt like a different world, you turned your comments off on social media and they never came back on. Interviews were a no-go and your former friends were now distant acquaintances.

“Can I think about?”

“Of course you can. Like I said, the squad goes out on Tuesday so I need an answer by Monday. Any questions, I’m coming to the match on Sunday, maybe I can speak to you after?”

“Thank you.” With a soft squeeze to your shoulder she was off, except now you couldn’t focus knowing you were about to make a decision which would change everything.

…..

“You seem distracted.”

In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best idea to accept the dinner invite from Maria and Ingrid but you knew your best friends wouldn’t take no for an answer. The three of you along with Frido were sat at their dinner table, tucking into the tapas you’d ordered from your favourite restaurant and it wasn’t lost on any of them how your mind was elsewhere. Casually picking through your food was a total opposite to the way you usually devoured this.

“Y/N?”

You’d been debating on the way whether to speak to someone about it.

Maybe your dad? He’d gone through something similar but he was in Miami and would only just be getting up.

Your mum? She was the most rational option but she would never understand that pride of pulling on your national shirt.

Your therapist seemed the best option but the earliest session she had for non-emergencies was tomorrow.

“Y/N!” In your own little world you’d even forgot to answer their questions. “Are you alright?”

It could help speaking to them, couldn’t it? “I had a visitor after training. Sarina Weigman.”

“Shit man, I thought you said no.” Maria Leon was your best friend from the moment you stepped foot in that training room, you bonded over everything from tattoos to food. You’d been her wingman in getting with Ingrid and had a mutual understanding of each other’s situations with your respective national teams even if the circumstances were very different.

“She wants me back but I don’t know, this feels different from last year.” If Bonnie, your 5-year-old beagle, adopted 3 years ago to signify a new chapter in your life, wasn’t by your feet they would definitely be anxiously tapping the floor right now.

“They probably feel your absence more because they’ve lost other players.” Frido added some context. “Not that you wouldn’t have always walked into that team but now you definitely would. You’d be their main player.”

“I can see you’re considering it.” Ingrid pointed out. “When she came last year I could see you were like, definitely no, now you haven’t turned it down immediately.”

“There’s no right or way wrong to feel,” Maria tried to comfort me. “Only you can decide if you want to go back there.”

“I miss it.”

“Of course you do.” Ingrid agreed. “You wouldn’t watch all their games if you didn’t.”

“It’s just the fact that I’m comfortable here, I have been for so long and now I’m going to throw myself back into four years ago.” Four years ago when you’d been forced to move away from your club at the time in Chelsea and accept the fact that one mistake had changed everything. “Plus the media attention, no-one wants that in the lead up to the world cup.”

“They were your friends, I’m sure they’d understand.” Frido tried to make you see that side of things. “Shit happens in football but what happened to you when completely over the top of that.”

“I isolated them.” Of course you had friends in the squad at the time, in fact best friends. But as soon as you made the move to America you slowly distanced yourself from them as they did to you. You hated letting them down and completely understood that being associated to you meant unnecessary exposure where perhaps they would not want it.

“So you’ll make friends again.”

You’d changed as well, grown into a completely different person in that time. Your appearance and attitude on the pitch were a distinct opposite to the crippling shyness you had yet to shake off. “Maybe.”

“You will,” Maria assured you. “Plus I think Bonnie told me she wanted a sleepover with me.”

“Oh did she?”

“I’m not swaying you either way but if that’s what you want, I’ll support you all the way.”

“We all will.” Frido added wrapping her arms around you to bring you into her side. “We love you.”

“Thank you, I love you all too.”

“Speak to your dad, maybe even your mum. I’m sure they’d want to help.”

One of the funniest moments in your life had to be watching your teammates introduce themselves to your parents when they came out to watch your first match in the Blaugrana. Watching their nerves dissipate when they realised how down to earth, especially your mother was, when it came to their children. Of course their name brought so much extra attention to you but you couldn’t have asked for a better upbringing.

Maybe it was their words that made you do it but subconsciously you knew the best thing to do was to ring them. So as you got into bed that night, once you got back, Bonnie at your feet watching, you rang the number you’d had memorised for years.

“Hi baby.” His voice almost brought tears to your eyes. Although you tried to be as independent as possible, wanting to be your own person, you sometimes wished you could just go back to spending every night in his arms.

“Hi dad.”

“What’s wrong?” You hated how easily he could read you, how those two words were enough for him to know something was wrong.

“It’s nothing.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know dad.” Out with it. “Sarina Weigman came to visit me today, she wants me to go and join them in the next international break.”

“And what do you want?”

“I think I want to.”

“You think?”

“I just know that if I do I’m just going to be brought back to that moment.”

“Then you’ll go back to a moment where the referees made a terrible decision. Football fans are fickle you know that as much as I do but you’ve watched it back enough to know that nine times out of ten nothing happens. The commentator did you no favours, Phil didn’t stand by you as he should have and the media hung you out to dry.”

“I know.”

“But as awful as it was it made you the person you are today and your stronger now then you’ve ever been before. If you want to go back then you’ll make it work. I know you will.”

“Thanks dad, now how is…”

,,,,,

“How many times have you watched that tackle back?”

“Over a thousand times.”

“Do you think you should have been sent off?”

“Of course not.”

……

You loved Barcelona, from the moment you stepped through those doors 3 years ago you’d been welcomed in and never looked back. In 2019 you moved to America but your year out there was plagued with depression and homesickness resulting in a lack of game time, when Barcelona came calling it was a difficult decision with your family ties but they had a project, they had a good set up and you knew the onus wouldn’t just be on you. The first six months were still tough, working out Spanish football to both play with your teammates and counter the opposition but by the end of the season you felt at home for the first time in 2 years.

Your role this year had been heightened by the loss of one of your midfield partners in Alexia, but you were adaptable and that’s probably how you found yourself 4-0 up, having just scored a second goal in the second half.

“It’s almost like you’re trying to impress someone.” Mapi whispered giving you a half hug as you walked back into your own half.

“Shut up.”

“I bet she’s panicking that you might turn it down now.”

“She’s got other players Maria.”

“But none of them are you.”

The match stayed at 4-0, some of the youngsters coming on to see the game out.

You’d never been in a team like this, of course you had little arguments and there were small groups within the team, but everyone worked so hard for each other. And with that came the protectiveness, when you joined you were only 21, now 24 and the older ones took you under their wings. You’d been daunted a lot at the fact of playing fellow English players in the Champions League but they’d been your shield for those moments.

It blew your mind when the younger age groups joined you and they speak about that moment. Most of them staying up late to watch it making you feel old. But that meant they came to you for advice a lot of the time. Maybe this time though it was time to get advice from them.

“Hey little one.” Maria Perez was the first one you spotted in the changing room. “You played really well today.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you feeling about being called up?” It was only yesterday that the Spanish squad had been leaked and she was once again in it.

“Excited, another opportunity to prove myself.”

“I like that you see it that way.”

“Everyone should, it’s no different to playing here, as long as you be yourself you can never be disappointed.”

…….

@jillsmithjournalist: Serena Weigman is present at the Barcelona match. No current England players are playing however star player Y/N Beckham scored twice. Beckham has not played for England since she withdrew from selection in August 2019 amid public backlash and a rumoured feud with England manager Phil Neville. Could a return be on the cards?

@newlionesses_x: Surely she can’t just pick and choose when to come back.

@wslfan: Fine without her last year

@england123: Liability for England

@barcelonafan: All you hating on Beckham are crazy, one of the best players in the world and you don’t want her back because of something that happened 4 years ago, grow up. Could tell she struggled when she joined us but this past year she’s been exceptional, people change, mistakes happen (even though she should never have been sent off in the first place)

…..

You’ve known your decision for a long time but you still delayed giving it as long as possible before you could wait no longer. You could see she was the only one left in the hospitality area as you entered, the table she had chose overlooking the pitch you’d just performed on.

This was what you wanted and now it felt only right to give yourself that opportunity again.

“I’ll do it.”

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #barcelona femeni #lionesses #engwnt #david beckham #beckham #football

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queers-gambit · 6 months

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My Date With the President's Daughter

part one: Blue Bunny

prompt: your father finds out about Tangerine in the worst way during a charity gala before marauders try to rob it.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 6.3k+

note: a little Disney Channel throwback in the title anyone?

warnings: use of Irish names that DO NOT dictate race, more Mafia antics, short smut / interrupted smut (you'll see), NSFW i think, mature content, cursing, chaos and violence, weapons: guns and knives, blood. dead bodies, reader's a Daddy's Girl, abrupt ending, slight angst, more hurt and comfort i guess, author still has no idea what this plot is - revoke her internet access.

The theme of the gala that night was inspired by the Palace of Versailles; regal, royal, glittering and so very, very gold. It was held at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, the entire building rented out in preparation with three different caterers and expensive bottles of alcohol being served. The gala was THE place to be - most people vying for an invitation, everyone who was anyone in attendance; dripping in designer clothes, shoes, and jewelry that sparkled in candlelight.

Every single year for the past 25 years, your legendary father hosted a large charity event that your mother was project manager of - meaning she chose the themes, decor, and the invite list. Only elite persons (both in the public and private eye) with deep pockets were invited, knowing they'd cut a large check if they wanted your father to stay out of their business territories. So, in honor of the richer-than-rich attendees, your mother used grand and golden decorations; creating a tastefully regal atmosphere for those who didn't actually have a drop of royal blood in their veins.

You father, Fallon, meaning "leader" in the ancient Celtic language, looked as handsome and dapper as ever; his tux dry cleaned, steamed, ironed, and tailored, paired with clean and shining dress shoes that had a bright red sole. His hair was slicked back, tattoos on his neck visible from the swept-back style.

Your mother, Maeve, whose name meant "she who rules", looked like she had just walked off a runway. Her dress hugged her slender and impressive figure, the material shimmering under the soft lighting. Her heels were high, hair pinned off her neck to show off bright diamond earrings that matched the thin chain of glittering gems around her collarbones, the sparkling tennis bracelet, and the absurdly large wedding ring on her finger. Her face was lightly painted with make-up, always a woman who didn't need much - if any at all. You prayed to age as gracefully as she.

Your brother, Oisín - pronounced [Oh - Sheen] - meant "little deer"; a cheeky but shy lad at the ripe age of 10. He wore a matching tux as your father, and had an emerald broach pinned on his lapel to indicate he belonged to your family. His au pair was supposed to be watching him so you could mingle with donors, but Oisín didn't stray from your side; a wee hand holding the material of your expensive dress on your hip to keep himself from getting lost.

The gala was crowded. Large event room stifling, requiring the air be turned on. Perfume assaulting the senses in a clash of scents.

The trademark "cha-ching" sound effect echoed in your mind as you shmoozed a few guests into their donations; impressing your brother by how easy you made it look. You thanked each donor with a pretty smile and fluttering lashes, floating around the room to meet other investors; giving them your family's charity's mission statement and explained where their money would go. Most of the people in this room were seedy criminals - similar to your father - and the other few were corrupt politicians who were nestled in the criminal's pockets.

By no means was the night boring, but this was work for you; all business, no pleasure.

The decor your mother chose had a lot of glittering gold details; a few imported busts and statues, an entire wall full of sculpted grass to mimic the Palace's own garden designs; artwork hung in thick, intricate frames, bright crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The event hall was specifically chosen for the floor-to-ceiling windows, sculpted shrubbery planted around the room; banquet tables covered in white cloth and chairs made of white plush - complimenting the detailed golden accents. It was gorgeous, you were impressed by your mother's attention to detail.

You wore a dress made of fine silk, the pretty green hue complimenting your skin tone; hair left down, pinned at the sides, showing off the dangling, expensive earrings your father gifted you on your 18th birthday. You, too, wore heels that forced you to walk taller and with calculated steps; rimmed eyes darting around to ensure there wasn't any shady business transpiring. But when surrounded by people who made their living by being sketchy, it was hard to clock each and every movement; being why your father had hired a very specific (and loyal) security service.

With several checks in hand, you visited your father's banker, a mute man named Bradley, and handed them over for safe keeping; your brother able to practice his sign language. Bradley was happy to reply, your entire family versed in multiple languages, and showed the young lad his process of collecting and documenting the donations. After tallying your new checks to the grand total, he used British Sign Language to inform you and Oisín of the updated tally generated so far.

"Why does Daddy need to do this?" The young lad asked, holding your hand tightly; not being a fan of social interactions - especially to this magnitude.

"To keep business moving squeaky clean," you answered softly, smiling at a few who passed you. "Money makes the world go 'round, don't it?"

He sighed, "Do we know all these people?"

"We do, they're Daddy's associates," you nodded, "and you best believe, they all know us. See, one day, you'll learn their names and what businesses they provide, how Daddy keeps them all employed."

Oisín looked uncomfortable, wondering, "Are they dangerous? Like the guys that came for Christmas?"

You came to a halt around the edge of the room, caressing his head while being careful not to muse his hair out of place. "They're all dangerous, in their own way, yes, lovie. But," you lowered into a squat so you could look your brother in his eyes, "you'll learn, Daddy's much more dangerous. So, we host events like this t'keep everyone happy and in line, you see? It's a power play."

He nodded, glancing around the room of adults. "Do I have to stay the whole time, though? Mommy said I could invite Darrel and Kevin - they're over there," he pointed towards one of the round tables, two of his classmates laughing with their mothers standing off to the side. "And I'm hungry!"

"Oh, you're a hungry lad, is it?" You smiled, watching his head bob. "Well then, in that case, we should feed you, huh? C'mon," you straightened and offered your hand, which he took gratefully. "We'll get yah fed, sweetums, and you can hang with your friends, yeah?"

"Daddy won't be mad?"

"No, I'll tell him you did really well tonight, helping me collect donations," you winked, leading him to one of the catering tables. You made up his plate with different options, carrying it to the table his friends, Darrel and Kevin, were sat at.

The boys - who looked adorably dapper in suits and bowties - greeted your brother happily; letting you set his plate down and greet the mothers kindly to thank them for their attendance that night.

"Oh, Miss!" Your brother's au pair, Lisa, hustled up to you, "I'm so sorry, I lost track - "

"No, no, 's fine, you're all right, deep breath, love," you assured, squeezing her upper arm. "Having a good night so far?"

"Oh, it's magical, Miss, innit?" She beamed, looking around in wonder. "Never been before despite working for your family all these years, I'm grateful for your mother's invitation tonight."

"Oh, we're very happy to host yah, sweetheart," you smiled. "But, uh, you mind keepin' an eye on Oisín for me? I've gotta work a bit more. He just wants t'hang with his friends, think he's a bit tired."

"Of course," she rushed.

"I'd wager you can take him t'bed after Daddy's speech, hmm? I know he'll want Oisín here for that, at the very least."

Lisa agreed, mingling with the other mothers as you pecked Oisín's head and told him to behave, that you were gonna go back to working the gala; which he at least acknowledged before being sucked back into a card game with Darrel. You didn't mind the blow off, liking the idea that he had as normal of a life as possible - a farfetched idea considering your father ran the bloody Irish Mafia and all. He's attended three different schools since he started his educational career, so you were content to leave him with his friends; letting boys be boys.

After making another deposit to Bradley, you visited one of the modern and unique glass bars (one of three stations) while feeling somewhat dejected by the night's missing guest. But speak (or think) of the Devil and He shall appear.

"You weren't kiddin' when you said your family goes all out for events like this. Jesus fuckin' Christ," a familiar, accented voice crooned; a body saddling up to the bar beside you. You first saw his hands clasped together on the bar, recognizing the golden rings and single bracelet, smirking as your eyes lifted to meet that of Aaron - or Tangerine.

"You're late," you mused, locking eyes with the bartender and holding up two fingers; indicating you now wanted two of the drinks you ordered, him nodding.

"Sorry 'bout that, love, yeah, no, Lem and I got caught up in somethin', had ta deal, then get cleaned up for yah. Figured you wouldn't want us walkin' in here with blood on us."

"You'd be right," you hummed, red painted lips stretching in amusement as you both casually leaned on the glass bartop with your forearms. "Doesn't matter, you're here now - thank God."

"That bad, huh?"

"Not like previous years," you admitted, sending a glance over your shoulder at the group of milling socialites. "Since Daddy inducted The Agency, some traction's picked up believe it or not. Seems like a lot of people like the idea of contract killers for hire and investing in the Black Market. Seems like you lot really up the ante, don't'cha?"

"Ah," he smirked, "you're welcome, then. Happy t'be of service."

"I'll only thank you when you make a donation to the cause."

"Yeah?" He smirked. "Well, you got anywhere private for me to write a check, then, love? Can't have anyone knowin' I'm charitable, got a reputation to uphold, know what I mean?" Then he leaned in real close, lips ghosted against your ear and making a shiver shoot down your spine, "C'mon, doll, 's been 3 weeks since I've seen yah."

"I know," you sighed, "but we've been busy tonight. Plus, Daddy would kill you - like, actually kill you - 'cause he's listed you specifically for me to stay away from."

"And yet, here you are, naughty girl, huh? Disobeying orders?" He smirked and put a space between you for the sake of appearances, two glasses of whiskey set before you. "Your Daddy's been preoccupied all night, love - don't think he'd even notice if we pop out for a bit. 'Fraid to admit but if I don't get you alone soon, I might actually lose my shit, darlin', honestly."

"Aaron, sweetheart, my family is hosting this event and we're responsible for collections," you deadpanned, but smirked, "'s a bit inappropriate to abandon such an important night by sneaking off."

"Can't tell me you're not tempted."

Now, you full-on grinned, "I didn't wear panties for a reason."

"You fuckin' tease," he growled over the rim of the crystal glass. When he tasted the whiskey, he hummed in shock, looking at the amber liquid, "Fuck me, that's nice."

"My family may or may not own several distilleries. You're drinking an exquisite, 15-year ol' whiskey, love." You took your own sip, casting another look around the room, finding your brother first, still with his friends before locating your parents. They were pleasantly distracted by an ambassador, making you grin at Tangerine, "C'mon."

"Hey?" He wondered, quickly setting his half-drank glass down as you snatched his free hand to quickly lead him away. He smirked and casted a look over his shoulder, instantly meeting Lemon's eyes - finding him laughing at the pair of you, toasting his drink at his brother in impression as if he knew what you two were up to.

Thanks to Thomas the Tank Engine, Lemon definitely knew what you two were doing - being excellent at reading people.

You lead your lover out of the event hall, checking up and down the empty hall and missing the way one of the security guards clocked your escape. You lead Tangerine into the large, private, unisex bathroom; shoving him against the closed door and instantly latching onto him in a deep kiss.

He was fully prepared, catching your hips; hissing a breath in through his nose, releasing a gentle moan out of sheer relief. When you pulled back, he grinned, "Got no idea how much I fuckin' missed yah, darlin'."

"Missed you more," you whispered in a rush, arms wrapping around his neck as he simultaneously began backing you up. It was a hungry kiss; heated, passionate, teeth clanking from impact, both attempting to make up for lost time. Ever in-sync, both your mouths opened to push your tongues against one another; exchanging saliva and the taste of expensive whiskey.

"C'mere," he panted after having backed you into the sink counter, seizing hold of your silken hips and hoisting you upwards. Your mouths were never far apart, joining together once more now that you were sat at a vantage point. Your hands shoved his navy blue suit jacket from his shoulders, it being set aside to the other end of the counter while you worked on his belt. "Never goin' this long again," he mumbled into your kiss, pushing the material of your dress up to let your legs spread wider in accommodation. Your lover rushed, "Jesus, fuck, feels like forever, don't it?"

You nodded as his hands pushed under the bunched material to grip the plush meat of your thighs; giving a gentle massage before sliding them higher until he met your bare hips. The cold counter bit into your exposed flesh.

"Oh, fuck me, you really didn't wear panties?" He groaned, glancing down as he lifted silk from your lap to catch a glimpse of your bare cunt - ready to greet him.

"Had a feelin' you'd show up, you just can't stay away, can yah?" You smirked, cheekily licking his lips as his belt clattered open. "Thought you'd might appreciate it," your chuckle was swallowed by his moan as the zipper of his trousers sounded almost shrilly to your over heightened senses. "Just need you close, so fuckin' close, please, missed you, baby - "

"No idea how much I've missed you, love, fuckin' hell," he rushed, reaching into his briefs the moment you had loosened the waistband of his tailored trousers to take hold of his cock. "This ain't gonna be nice an' easy, love, yeah? All right?" He checked, feeling you slide to the edge of the counter.

"Didn't think anything else," you grinned, gasping lightly when the head of his cock swept up and down your slit. "Plenty of time for that later, just need you fuckin' close - closer than close."

"Feel how fuckin' wet you are already? Goddamnit - "

"All for you, baby, c'mon, don't tease - "

In a single motion, Tangerine sheathed himself in your warmth, grinning in mischief, "Huh? Sayin' somethin', weren't yah, doll? Go 'head, finish your sentence, 'M listening."

You only chuckled, hands holding his neck and bicep in vice grips to keep yourself anchored as close as possible to him. "Three weeks without yah, and you wanna provoke me?" You whispered, feeling him begin to thrust in agonizing movements.

"Wouldn't be me if I didn't, huh?"

You chuckled breathlessly - gasping when, suddenly, the bathroom door burst open. You were facing that way, looking up from Tangerine's shoulder, only to discover your worst fear. "Holy shit! Daddy!?" You squeaked, Tangerine jolting and cursing in a hushed tone as he instantly yanked out of your wet warmth.

"Oh, you betta be fuckin' kiddin' me," your father seethed. "The fuck is goin' on here!? What the fuck are you goin'!? Who the fuck is that - is-is-is that who I think it is?" He growled, your lover fumbling to tuck himself away and pull his trousers back together - not moving from between your legs in an effort to preserve your modesty. But he had turned slightly to give your father a glimpse of his face, making your Daddy snarl, "Oh, bloody fuckin' hell! You serious? Fuckin' Tangerine, is it? You lost your mind, girl!?"

"Daddy, please," you warbled nervously, tears of anxiety gathering.

"Get the fuck out here - now! Boff of yah's!" He commanded in a roar, stepping out of the doorway.

"Oh, holy fuck," Aaron breathed, latching his belt and looking at you with wide eyes. "Well, was nice while this lasted, huh? Gonna miss yah, pretty girl - "

"The fuck are you - "

"He's gonna fuckin' kill me, sugar," Tangerine frowned, your dress falling gracefully into place when you slid off the counter. "Your father's gonna fuckin' kill me, Goddamnit," he pulled his suit jacket back on. "Think I can make it out that window?"

"He already knows it's you, runnin' now won't help," you sniffled, shaking your head and moving for the still-opened door. "You didn't think to fucking lock the door? Jesus fuck, Aaron..."

He followed after you, meeting your father in the empty hallway outside where the gala was in full-swing. He looked enraged, jaw clenched and wide eyes ablaze, looking the both of you over in disgust. "You out of your bloody mind you stupid girl? Huh?" He demanded, "I told you - very clearly - you weren't to fuckin' see him again."

"Daddy - "

"And this is how I find out? Huh? That my daughter doesn't respect my authority or listen to my words? How the fuck do you think people would react to that? They see you disobeying and get the idea to do the same."

"I'm not yours to command - "

"You're my daughter!" Fallon barked in anger, "My only fuckin' daughter, which means, you are, indeed, mine to command - just like everyone else in this fucking organization! You understand? My word is law - "

"This isn't just some petty fling, Daddy, that I'm engaged in to pass the time! I'm in love with him!" You blurted out, eyes widening when you heard your own words and watched your father's face fall.

"Beg your pardon?" He seethed slowly. "Have you gone mental? Finally fuckin' lost it? Huh? You must be outta your Goddamn mind if you think you love this silly fuck! He doesn't love you back, Y/N, you're just a coveted prize because you're my daughter - it's a thrill to men like him! Women like you, you're just trophies! There's no authenticity - "

"With all due respect," Tangerine interrupted boldly with anger lacing his words, "but you've got it all wrong, sir. Your daughter is the most important person t'me - outside my bruva, of course. She's not a trophy to collect, she's not a dainty object for me to store onna shelf - she's not a notch on my belt. But you're right about one thing," his arm extended around your waist, "she is the most coveted prize - but that's because of who she is, not who her father is. She's my prize, yeah, because she's the end goal men search their whole lives for and for whatever reason, she fuckin' chose me. I consider it the greatest honor - "

"You got some fuckin' nerve, don't'cha?" Your father growled. "You know what, lad? Since it's evident my daughter doesn't take me seriously, maybe you'll be smart enough to heed my warning. You leave her the fuck alone or - "

"I can't do that, sir," Tan refused, "'cause like it or not, I'm mad for her. Absolutely stupid for her. I love your daughter past words, don't even think I've ever loved someone 'cause bein' with her feels so fuckin' different in comparison.

"That so?"

Tangerine nodded, other hand shoving into his pocket to toy with the cool metal of golden brass knuckles. "There's nobody in this world like your daughter, sir. Bein' in love with her is like euphoria, yeah? Makes me think back and realize how wrong I was about my feelings for anyone else 'cause of how I feel for her. I say there ain't no way I've ever loved anyone else 'cause I've never felt this way before - I've only felt this type of love with your daughter. Yeah? She's fuckin' everything to me, so, with respect, I can't stay away. I won't."

"Yeah? Yeah? Fuckin' fine. All right, sure, let's see if The Agency has anythin' t'say about this, huh? When I pull the plug on this deal, I'll be sure to tell your employers why and let them deal with you for ruining this business partnership."

"Daddy," you gasped, rushing when he turned for the event hall's doors, Aaron following swiftly. You caught the metal doors when your father yanked them open and strode into the room, doing your best to catch him before he did anything too rash. "Wait, wait, Daddy, please, just listen, listen to me - I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Didn't mean for what? Me findin' yah fuckin' in the bathroom like a desperate whore?" He snarled over his shoulder, the thick crowd slowing him.

"Well, yes, but I also didn't mean to fall in love with him! All right? But you know better than all of us that it's not a choice, it just happens! Look at you and Mum - "

He rounded on you, Tan at your flank, opening his mouth to scold you when something caught his eye behind you. You didn't have time to question him as rapid shots filled the air, a telltale sign of an automatic gun being fired in the crowded room. You flinched slightly, Tangerine instantly grabbing your waist to cover your body with his; turning to locate the threat, only to discover a gaggle of men in all black wearing ski masks and duffel bags on their shoulders.

"Friends of yours?" Tan snipped at your father, keeping you low as the crowd shrieked in panic - all trying to escape, still being shot at. This caused the seedy individuals with guns to take a stand and shoot back at the intruders, creating mass confusion and limited advantages.

"Bruv!"

"Brian," Aaron panted, people bumping into one another as they panicked in a flood of bodies. He looked down at you and then to your father, Fallon, only to find blood blooming under his white button up. "Oh, fuck," his eyes widened, gunshots still sounding, "right, we gotta move - can deal with everything else later. Here, here, here," Tangerine plucked a cloth napkin from a nearby table and shoved it over your father's wound to help staunch the bleeding.

"They got the doors, mate," Lemon shook his head when you noticed your father's wound. Luckily, it didn't appear to be in a fatal location, his hand holding pressure as the security detail were being gunned down. "The fuck do we do now?" Lemon asked over shrill shrieks.

"What we do best," Tangerine answered, pushing your father into action and brandishing his gun. "Stay close - "

"I'm not leaving without my wife and son!" Your father growled.

"Lem!"

"On it," he agreed, disappearing into the swarm of people.

Your lover kept you close, shoving through the crowd to lead towards a set of heavy metal doors. Several men stepped in your way, Tan sneering, "Right, fuck this." He opened fire.

You squeaked in shock when a different body tackled Aaron from the side to knock him out of sight, your father keeping a hold on you as straggling bodies dropped around you. "There he is!" You heard over the confusion, locating a set of men surging towards you.

There was nowhere to go, leaving you to physically block your father in a bid to protect him - not needing to when Tangerine intercepted the two threats. He didn't have his gun anymore, lost in a stampede of feet on bloody marble floors, opting to use his fists and brute strength against the robbers. The brass knuckles helped.

You had to admit, it was the perfect night to attack considering how much money Bradley was keeping track of. Plus the fact that everyone's guard was down made tonight the perfect opportunity for marauders to act against your family.

However, in a sea of confusion, you were separated from your father's side; losing him amongst the people and feeling a tight hand seize your upper arm. "I got the daughter!" The man in a ski mask informed through the visible comms system. "Moving for the south wing, bring the van around t'the alley."

"Aaron!" You begged, trying to wrangle free but discovering your strength was nothing compared to the 6'3'' goon's. "Aaron! Aaron, please! Help!"

"Shut the fuck up," the man snapped, backhanding you and never releasing his grip. A single trickle of blood oozed from one nostril as the man's ring split your bottom lip. "Fuckin' move!" He barked at you in a thick accent, "Move, bitch, let's go!"

"What do you want!? Please, just - just tell me! I can give you whatever it is - please! Fucking let go!"

Another enemy joined you, sneering, "Oi! The fuck you doin'? Don't damage the goods, fuckin' idiot, we gotta keep her in decent shape for the ransom! Fallon ain't payin' if his daughter's been assaulted - "

But a gunshot boomed and the other man's body jolted before falling flat on his back - dead with a hole in his forehead. You tried to capitalize on your captor's shock, unsuccessful, feeling blood splatter on your back from a different fallen body. You saw your father under the wing of his security, his own gun being used in defense, begging, "Daddy! Daddy, help!"

The one night you don't ensure your thigh holster's filled, of course this happens!

Fallon was only able to watch as Tangerine fought his way up to you struggling in the bulky man's grip; impressed when one contract killer engaged another. "Oi!" Tan barked, "Hands off my girl, yah fuckin' lunatic!" He threw several punches, the goon forced to release you to defend himself. Fallon watched as Tangerine waited until you were freed and a step to the side before opening fire again - killing the man who dared touch you. He realized that Tangerine had waited until you were clear to take the shot - feeling impression plant in his gut. Yet there was no time to dwell as intruders circled him.

"Oh, my God!" You whimpered, bodies left in growing pools of blood; your dress dragging in the tacky substance to paint abstract swirls on the shining floor; trying to avoid being swept up in the streams of panicking people. Your name was barked, another hand grabbing you, but this time, it was Lemon - sprayed in enemy blood.

"C'mon, doll, I got'cha!" He promised, being engaged by another robber. You sobbed in shock when an arm caught you in a headlock and forcefully drug you backwards; heeled feet scrambling in an attempt to keep up and avoid falling over.

"Lemon! Please! Fuck's sake!"

Breathing was hard to do in a headlock, dancing black spots blurring your vision slowly and your heart hammering in fear. A machine gun sounded again. The bicep tightened, dramatically limiting air.

"Fuckin' get off her, arsehole!" Recognizing Aaron's voice was a sheer relief, gasping for air when the arm constricted around your neck released suddenly. However, the momentum made you stumble to the ground at the same time for the goon's dead body to drop right next to you. His wide, dead eyes stared unseeingly at you, forcing a shiver down your spine and for your stomach to knot.

"Jesus Christ, oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God," you panted, scrambling when blood spread closer.

"C'mon, love, c'mere, c'mere," Tangerine grunted, hauling you to your feet and protectively keeping you to his side. Being in front of you now, you could note the blood on his button up, how the robber's own punches had bruised and bloodied his face; figuring you looked somewhat similar. "Right, listen please, need yah t'do somethin' for me, love," he kept a sharp eye out for other threats as he tugged up one of his trouser legs. He pulled out the gun strapped in the holster, handing it to you with the instruction, "Shoot first, answers later. Yeah? Hey?"

You nodded and accepted the weapon, unlocking the safety. "I have to find Mum and Oisín," you worried, men and women screaming as the brutal fight continued.

"Just stay close, love, 's fuckin' madhouse - FUCK!" He snapped, aiming and firing at a man racing for you two. "C'mon, we gotta move, gotta get you out of here - right to the fuck now - "

Your gun sounded, Tangerine watching another robber drop only feet away. He pushed you through the people, both with your heads on a swivel; working in tandem to clear the banquet hall of robbers and direct survivors to get out. Your curly-haired boyfriend held one of the robbers by the neck and repeatedly punching his face into a pulp after the other man had attempted to snatch you, too.

Nobody came remotely close to you again, not when Tangerine was on guard; protecting you, defending you, killing for you. The skin on his bare knuckles had split open, but Tangerine didn't even notice; he just moved on to the next threat.

Soon, the gunfire ceased, leaving a ringing in survivor's ears, and after a quick look around the room, Tangerine confirmed the threats were all eliminated - but so were several guests of the charity gala.

You gasped in guilt, hand slapping over your mouth when you nearly tripped over Lisa's body; bullet holes shredding her flesh.

"Bruv," Lemon panted, approaching the two of you and making Tan flinch. "Woah, hey, easy, 's just me," he held his hands up, your lover sighing in relief and keeping you sheltered behind him. "You two good?" Brian asked, sheen of sweat coating his skin.

"You hit, love? Hey?" Tangerine looked down at you, keeping one arm around you and his body at a protective angle. "Shit, your face - your fucking face, sweetheart, look at me, look at me, lemme see," he frowned, holstering his gun to take both your cheeks in his hands and look for other injury.

"I'm okay, promise I'm not hurt," you panted, hands trembling. "Are you two?"

"I'm good," he nodded, eyeing Lemon. "Yeah?"

"Good, yeah, I'm good," Brian confirmed, "but I got some bad news. Looks like they got the banker. I can't tell if they made off with the money or not."

"They couldn't've, we only accepted checks tonight," you explained. "No cash, no assets to steal."

"Take it that's not public knowledge," Lemon sighed. "Probably thought they could rob y'all blind in one move, thinkin' tonight would have cash donations."

You sniffled, "You seen my family?"

"Uh," Lemon looked around, nodding, "yeah, your dad's over there."

Peering around Tangerine's form, you located your father slowly stalking around the room; taking note of the dead bodies left behind, survivors clearing out into the hallways. Fallon made his way up to you three, your voice trembling, "Daddy? You all right? Where's Mum and Oisín?"

"They're safe, with the paramedics," he reported, instantly taking you in his embrace. "Ah, fuck, lost sight of yah in this mess, had me worried, girl."

"I'm sorry."

"Nah," he whispered, caressing the back of your head, "don't apologize, you ain't do nothin'." He took a breath, keeping you caressed to his shoulder, "Gotta admit, felt a helluva lot better knowin' your man had your six." You pulled back slowly, watching your father sigh and nod at the Twins, admitting, "Thank you for protectin' my daughter, don't know how t'repay yah."

"Wasn't nothin' to it, sir," Tangerine assured, adjusting his suit jacket, "just wanted to protect my woman."

"I saw," he nodded. "You boys okay?"

"Yes, sir," Lemon nodded, Tangerine doing the same.

"Very good... Then I think I owe you an apology," your father told Tan, shocking you - not knowing the last time you ever heard you father admit to an apology.

"Not necessary, sir, I understand," Tan deflected, skin glistening in a thin sheen of sweat, blood dabbed around from the robber's fists, "I'm just relieved your family's safe."

"No, listen, I was wrong," Fallon admitted, "sayin' all that shit to you - about you. You know, makin' my assumptions, goin' based on rumors. You've got a bit of a reputation, I was just tryna protect my daughter from gettin' her heart broke." He sighed, shaking his head, "Can protect her from damn near everything - except the complications of her own heart; the woes of a relationship."

"I understand, sir."

"But seein' you tonight, fightin' for her, fightin' to get back to her... I was wrong," Fallon sighed, offering his hand. When Tan shook it, your father offered, "For what it's worth, you've got my permission to... Continue whatever this is. Any lad willing t'put themselves in harms way for my girl is all right in my books."

"I appreciate that," Tangerine sniffled, meeting your eye and smirking slightly. "Your daughter means a lot t'me, swear I won't make yah regret givin' us your approval."

Fallon sighed, nodding, "Yeah, all right, good. 'Cause she's precious to me, you know? I'll fuckin' gut you if you hurt her."

"I believe it," Tan sighed, a single twinge of nervousness to his tone, "but you don't gotta worry, sir, right, 'cause last thing I want is t'hurt the woman I love. She's precious to me, too."

"Right, good, uh, well... Thank you, both, for helping tonight. Would've been a fuckin' bloodbath without yah."

You frowned, gazing around the marble floors, "Still a bloodbath, ain't it? Half our men are dead, several investors... Daddy, who the fuck were these men?"

"That's what I'm gonna find out," he growled, his surviving personnel taking note of the event-room-turned-battlefield, slowly starting to move bodies. Little known fact: the hotel had an industrial size furnace in the boiler room - somewhere your father could burn bodies without the police being tipped off.

"Th-They said something about a ransom," you told the trio in a trembling tone, "about ransoming me back to you, Daddy. Said you wouldn't pay if I was injured, so they shouldn't rough me up."

"Hey," Tan whispered, pulling you into his side securely, "don't gotta worry 'bout that - know there's nowhere for anyone to hide you that I wouldn't find."

Fallon actually liked that sentiment, watching you nod and for your lover to hold you securely and placing a kiss to your forehead. So, he asked, knowing the answer, "Can I trust you to take care of my daughter, lad?"

"Absolutely."

"Don't make me regret this."

"Not in this lifetime, sir."

"Good. I'll find you lot in the mornin', get gone."

After a brief reunion with your mother and brother, learning they were uninjured and safe, you boyfriend finally opened the door to the hotel room you two had been assigned. Lemon was right next door, and when you entered, your luggage was left on the bed for you both. It was quiet as you both cleaned up and prepared for bed; silent tears trickling down your cheeks, mind replaying the night's events over and over and over... Like a never ending nightmare.

In the shower, you sat on the floor with arms tight around your knees, Tangerine sitting with you as warm water cascaded; cocooning steam around you. Blood washed off in waves of pink, circling the drain; your boyfriend gently massaging your body with a washcloth, discovering a scattering of injury - some still open and weeping. He was forced to blink back tears when your neck revealed a significant bruise; considering it a reminder of his failure to protect you, not knowing you felt the direct opposite and knew, if he hadn't been there, things would've been much, much worse.

When you joined Aaron in bed, the silence continued. Your heads laid on plush, stark white pillows; on your sides to stare at one another with hands clasped together between you. No words were needed, no explanation or thanks necessary, neither feeling the need to speak on what happened that night. Tangerine let go of your one hand, slowly reaching out to caress your cheek and jaw, fingertip tracing soft lines; shuffling closer to rest his cut forehead on yours.

In the dark of the room, over the sounds of the humming air conditioner unit, Tangerine whispered, "I love you, doll."

"I love you, too, Aaron. Thank you for... You know, tonight... All you did."

"You being safe, in my arms, is enough thanks."

"I-I'm glad you were here."

He nodded in agreement, "So am I. Don't know what I'd of done if I wasn't - if I had t'hear about this later... If they had succeeded in snatching you. Might not have been able to forgive myself."

"Good thing we don't have to know." Your eyes danced between his, admitting, "I don't think I want t'go without you, love. I don't think I feel secure unless you're with me."

"Yeah?" He smirked slightly, "That your way of sayin' you wanna spend more time with me?"

"Might be my way of sayin' I wanna spend all my time with you," you whispered, tears glazing your eyes. "And Daddy approves, so we don't have to sneak around anymore, right?"

"Right, get yah all t'myself," Tan agreed softly. "We'll talk in the morning, sweetheart, yeah?" He stretched slightly to peck your lips, encouraging, "Get some rest, Bunny. 'S been a helluva night."

Tangerine made you feel safe, he protected you and killed for you - so while you were unsure how sleep would find you when your mind was plagued with replaying chaotic memories from that evening, you let yourself relax.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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skyeslittlecorner · 7 months

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Oh no, everyone has great ideas and you turn them into such amazing stories 🥹 Love family stuffs ahhhhh 😩

How about the kings and their kids prepare for Mother's day? 👀 The kids ask for advices and join their dads in prepare them (...and the king's gifts too... if you know what I mean 👀👌👈)

I love bringing your ideas to life! And I'm glad that you entrust them to me, you don't even know what an inspiration it is, that I can write for you, and you like it. Stay amazing as always 🙏

Family time, let's go!

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Satan and the twins had some trouble with their gift for you. They said they wanted to do it themselves, without dad, because it would be a surprise for both of you. Of course, he agreed, but he still ordered the nobles to keep an eye on them. First they went to Sitri and wanted to paint the cups, but they broke them. Then they approached Paimon to make you your own stickers, but after half an hour, glitter was everywhere. Before they accosted anyone else, Astaroth intervened. He took them to the meadow (so they could run around and shake off some glitter) and only when they got tired did he start telling them about how their father was a child, when they were picking wild flowers for bouquets for you.

Satan himself will give you a box of mint-blueberry chocolates, which you regularly carved at 3 a.m. during your pregnancy, and a smirk with the words "I'm ready for round two." Of course, he pissed you off with that. And since he also brought good wine, get ready for the next five rounds.

Mammon and your little gang will present you with a whole collection of jewelry. You expected them to be pasta necklaces and modeling clay earrings, but of course you underestimated them. Pearl necklace, ruby bracelets, cufflinks with gold beads. Of course, they are made a bit crooked and clumsy, the younger the child the more so, but you and Mammon look like the proudest parents in the world. This is the only jewelry you want to wear.

From the king you will receive a beautiful silk set (actually five sets, each matching one piece of jewelry you received), underwear and a long dressing gown, (and a matching dress, shoes and even a handbag), which you will have to try out together.

Beelzebub loves scribbles, and so does his little girl! The card you will receive will be the messiest, most colorful conglomeration of colored tissue paper, photos and ribbons you could ever imagine. Beel made sure that there was no shortage of materials, so in one place you have shells from the Caribbean, a heart made of Chinese silk and amber with a fossil (where did they get it from? Did he really take your daughter for a walk around the world? You don't ask, you don't want to know the answer).

Beel will give you markers with edible icing. He had a great time with the little one, but now it's time for mommy to show off her artistic talent. Preferably on his body. You can trace his tattoos with a marker, or maybe write something new. He's ready to be your canvas all night long.

Your daughter has Leviathan’s perfectionism, but in a specific version that when daddy likes something, it means it's already perfect. Usually. Sometimes she says daddy has no taste, and that's the sassy part she inherited from you. She would spend a good week sitting in her father's office and embroidering a pillow as a gift for you, with small flowers, because she doesn't know anything else yet. Levi makes sure she doesn't gouge out her eye with the needle, and every time the needle almost pierces her finger, the thread pulls it back. He usually doesn't worry about it, let the child learn. This time he would prefer there was no blood on the embroidery because the gift for you has to be more perfect than anything else.

Leviathan will give you a choker, also embroidered, but with black thread on black material. You can read it only by touch. What does it say? Only you two know. It's so adjustable that it's perfect for both wearing and choking.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb beelzebub #skye's little talk

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magics-neptunes-things · 10 months

Text

Christmas Meeting

Hello everyone!

Here is a new Christmas story, based on the one I wrote recently, Hide and Seek.

I already have some ideas for others but if you have any, I listen to you gladly!

TW : None.

Hiding your relationship with Alessia wasn’t easy every day, but it at least saved you from having to make introductions with your in-laws. But now that most of your loved ones are aware, Alessia also told her family and it was with a hesitant look that the blonde arrived at your house one November evening. "My parents would like to meet you" she quickly confessed, torturing her fingers. "Oh" was your first answer, not knowing if it was a good thing or not given the worry that was drawn on your girlfriend’s features.

But you quickly realized that what worried her was a possible negative answer from you. You accepted and Alessia immediately relaxed, while on your side you stressed a little more with each passing day. The invitation was for December and a family Christmas meal. You want to make a good impression with the Russo you’ve never really met. They all see who you are, you’re still Lucy Bronze’s little sister. But it is also true that you never really spoke to them, other than informally.

So it’s nervous as a flea that you arrive at Alessia’s family home, the one where she grew up. You know by this same Alessia that you will be the last arrivals, her brothers and their families being already there. Alessia hates the train, so you went with her car.

"One last kiss" begs the blonde by leaning towards you after parking her car in the driveway.

Despite your nervousness, you smile and lean in her direction. Over time, you wonder how you managed to retain these tender gestures for so long in public. You love it when she slips an arm around your waist when you walk or when she kisses you on the cheek when she comes to meet you in the stands after a football match.

"Mmh, one more" whispers Alessia against your lips, making you smile.

A few minutes later, Alessia holds your hand as you prepare to enter the house. By habit, the blonde rings at the door before entering, throwing a cheerful "We’re here". It only takes a few seconds for Alessia’s mother to get out of what you imagine to be the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a wooden spoon in her hand. Her smile is resplandissant, testifying to the pleasure she has to see her daughter. After hugging Alessia, she turns to you and offers you a big smile.

"Welcome home Y/N".

After the official greetings, you find yourself sitting next to Alessia with a glass of Italian wine in hand. Her older brother, Luca is there with his wife and Giorgio also brought his girlfriend. There are also Alessia’s grandparents and discussions happily mingle with each other. You are secretly relieved to see that Alessia seems to have taken on the mission of not leaving you alone for a single second.

You are at the break between the two main meals when Giorgio and Luca come to sit in front of you, looking at you with a serious and almost cold air that makes you look at Alessia. You see her rolling her eyes at the very moment when Giorgio speaks, looking at you with a calculating air.

"AC Milan or Juventus?"

"Seriously guys?" sighs Alessia

But her brother beckons her to be silent, raising his hand, without leaving you with his eyes. Next to him, Luca did not move either.

"Uh… AC Milan?"

You turn slightly to Alessia, who shrugs her shoulders, seeming to indicate that you do not have much choice to answer.

"Real Madrid or FC Barcelona?"

"Barcelona"

"Manchester United or Manchester City?"

At the question, you see from the corner of your eye the paternal grandfather of Alessia leaning with an interested air in your direction.

"Well… my sister played in City, but I’d still say Manchester United."

You see the two brothers exchange a look and you begin to find it rather funny. With their muscles and tattoos, they remind you of the movie "The Godfather".

"Chelsea or Arsenal?"

"Arsenal, for obvious reasons" you answer, taking another look in Alessia's direction.

She laughs softly and you feel her hand on your knee under the table. You don't make yourself pray to seize it with your own, delicately mixing your fingers with hers.

"Paris or Lyon?"

"Honestly… neither of them"

An amused exclamation escapes from Luca’s lips, who lets himself go against the back of his chair. He's the first to talk after that, even though he has not spoken a word so far.

"I think I like her."

"Yeah, me too. We have to believe that little Lessi finally understood how to choose the right people" adds Giorgio maliciously.

Little Lessi coldly shows him her middle finger, making the two brothers laugh before getting up as quickly as they arrived. Alessia barely has time to apologize for their behavior as the next dish is placed on the table by your mother-in-law. At this rate, you’ll probably explode soon.

You are digesting your meal on the living room sofa after discovering Alessia’s teenage bedroom when it's Alessia’s father’s turn to sit in front of you. He holds a glass bottle with a liquid that looks rather thick with two shot glasses in his other hand

"Dad" warns Alessia, frowning.

But he just smiles at her, before talking to you.

"This is liquor my uncle make in our village in Sicily. You want to taste it?"

Mario speaks directly to you and you obviously cannot refuse him his proposal. You are relieved to see that your hand doesn't tremble when you toast with him, discreetly pressing against the hand that Alessia put in your back.

You were prepared for it, but the alcohol is even stronger than you could have imagined. You are honourably holding back a coughing fit, but the grimace on your face is unmistakable.

"So?" asks Mario, smiling.

"It’s… strong" you manage to answer, voice slightly hoarse.

Your father-in-law nods, looking like he want to say that’s what’s interesting. As you wonder how you are going to finish your drink without passing in your girlfriend's arms, you realize that Giorgio is discreetly beckoning you to pass your drink to him. Too quickly for Mario to realize it, he empties it and gives it back to you, attracting a complicit and appreciative look of his little sister.

In the late afternoon, some of the family members propose to go for a walk. But, claiming a little tranquility, Alessia takes you upstairs instead. Even though the Russos are very nice people, you are happy to have a little respite and to find Alessia’s room.

"It’s snowing again" you realize by looking out the window.

The ground is already covered with a thick layer of white snow, but with the sun setting, the view from the window of Alessia’s room is rather pretty. Alessia having positioned herself next to you to observe it, you let yourself go against her, leaning your head on her shoulder.

"Thank you for coming" softly whispers the pretty blonde while laying a kiss on your head.

"Of course" you answer in the same tone.

A few moments pass, during which you continue to look outside. As you feel your body getting heavier against Alessia as the seconds go by, she turns to you with an eyebrow arch.

"Are you drunk?"

Despite you you giggle and only that could give the answer to Alessia. Between the wine of the meal and Mario’s digestive, God forgives you, but you are indeed a little.

"Tipsy?"

Alessia smiles and puts her two arms around your waist to hold you tight. You know you’ll have to come down in a few dozen minutes, certainly, when the others come back. But for now, you are determined to enjoy the company of Alessia. You raise your face in her direction, drawing her features with the help of your eyes.

"You’re starring."

"Yes. But I have the right to do it."

Laughing, Alessia shifts her attention to you before answering. You can see her eyes sparkles and God, you are so in love with her.

"That’s right. And I have the right to do that."

One of her arms leaves your waist, to allow her to gently take your cheek in her hand and draw your face against hers. A split second her lips are on yours and you pass your arms around her neck to enjoy this kiss. That’s when you realize your fears were stupid. As long as you’re with Alessia, you know she’ll do anything to make you feel good.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo imagine

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julsvu · 5 months

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Hiiii I dunno if your still taking requests but could you write headcanons for leo valdez x daughter of hecate who has a pet dog (cause their hecates sacred animal ofc) and maybe has a lot of tattooes? Thx sm <3

(No pressure)

leo valdez x daughter of hecate! reader

📒: headcanons, fluff <3, making out is mentioned once

he's absolutely enamored by you

at first he was lowkey intimidated because of your godly parent but the moment he got to talk to you he could feel himself melt?? bro was questioning if he was still fireproof at this rate

he ABSOLUTELY loves your dog (your dog probably barked at him at first sight though 😭)

gifts your dog little accessories or trinkets, as well as you!! for example, a new collar or a lead for ur dog, and a necklace for u

i feel like your dog would appear randomly everytime you and leo are making out?? idk man i feel it'd just be standing in the corner, lurking

leo prays for his life

leo walks around saying harry potter picks up lines to you so casually

HE'D GIVE YOU ONE OF THOSE HOGWARTS LETTERS AS A JOKE I SWEAJRJRR

but instead of the letter saying "congrats, you've been accepted into hogwarts!" it'd say, "congrats, you've accepted into Leo Valdez's heart, the bad boy supreme!" with a little wink under the text

scared of your siblings bcs he doesn't wanna accidentally piss them off and make himself hit the magical ball that turns people into a pig

because of that, you two resort into sneaking off into small remote spots in the camp instead of into eachothers' cabins

bro calls the spot "our spot" !! he gatekeeps it IMMENSELY

how is he gonna gatekeep a public place? he just can.

since children of Hecate have the ability to shift themselves into the persona of 3 different people, i feel like he'd definitely fall in love with you 10000x more whenever he sees you shift into "The Mother" which basically is used to soothe anyone

he falls asleep immediately after hearing your voice in that form

he is also IN LOVE with your tattoos.

once tried to doodle a copy of your tattoos on his arm 😭 (he gave up when he smudged it once)

since he couldn't doodle it properly on his arm, he doodles it on multiple machines he'd make, like a little contribution for you

it's really noticeable too, he does NOT hide his love for you at all

if your tattoos have like little gaps or aren't fully colored, he fills in the gaps every time he could, drawing a small marker from his hand and colouring it in

when he's in a bad mood, he runs off to find you and snuggles his face into your neck, tracing your tattoos with his index finger while his other arm is wrapped around your waist

he also definitely asks you what the stories of your tattoos are, why you got them, or how it felt like when you got them

he always ends up debating whether or not to get a matching tattoo with you

eventually, when your relationship had been going on for at least six months, you guys got a matching tattoos

when you guys got matching tattoos, he was so so so giddy 😭 showing the tattoo off to the seven or anyone that'll listen to him

the relationship would be so 'sunshine x sunshine protector' coded for real

#leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo x reader #hoo x you #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez imagines #leo valdez headcanons #heroes of olympus headcanons

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thecapricunt1616 · 5 months

Text

The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 18

♡ Chapter Inspo: The Tortured Poets Department ; TS - 'I scratch your head, you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever. But you awaken with dread, pounding nails in your head, but i've read this one where you come undone - I chose this cyclone with you, and who's gonna hold you like me?'

♡ Summary: Winnie meets Donna for the first time, Carmy ends up needing an emergency therapy session.

♡ W/C: 8,071

♡ Posted Date: 04/22/24

♡ A/N: Eep here we are! 18 chapters and the plot is finally starting to thicken up! I'm enjoying where this story is going very much. I hope you all are too! When I heard the golden retriever line I was like - wait....Carmy and Winnie hahahah!!! I'm loving this new album V much - tried not to add too much Taylor-talk in here but it's CANON that Winnies a fan so it would be OOC for her to not be excited heheheh ♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Physical Violence, Alcoholism, Mentions of Police, Family domestic abuse, attempt to enable said behaviors, Sad Carmy

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

Her shrill voice bounced off the walls, and quite frankly made my head hurt. I took a deep breath, clearing my throat and preparing for what was to come. I’d been apart of many screaming matches in my life since Id realized I could fight my mother back - so at minimum 15 years worth of defending myself against a raging narcissist.

“You don’t have to talk to her, my purse is just in there- I need it it has our house keys” I said so just we could hear.

“Where is he! CARMEN ANTHONY. YOU WILL COME SPEAK TO ME I AM YOUR MOTHER!” she shouted. It was clear she was drunk by the way she was speaking and annunciating her words.

“Baby go- go outside, I’m gonna deal with her” he said softly, his hands were shaking.

“I’m not leaving you alone, bear. I promise, I’m not gonna add fuel” I said and took his hand, holding it in mine and squeezing gently. “I love you - and that means we do things together even when they’re hard” I whispered and he nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Donna! Donna sweetheart we should step outside huh? Let’s go, let’s go outside, we'll have a cigarette. The babies are here, you don’t want them to hear this? No?” Jimmy told her, ushering her down the hall towards where we were in the dining room that contained the front door.

When she saw him it was like everything stopped, I felt like I was trapped in a lions den, or a fucking bear cave more like it. “Who is this?” She said, just above a whisper and she looks at me, then our enclasped hands, then Carmen again. “Who the fuck is this, Carmen?” She questioned

“Mom. Mom. Listen-“ I interrupt him because I’d never heard his voice sound so small and scared

“Hi! I’m Winnie?” I said casually. “And- I assume you’re Donna? Right?” I gently rubbed the back of his hand with the pad of my thumb, it felt like I was trying to tame a mountain lion with a smile.

“And what kind of fucking name is Winnie. What the hell is this- a goddamn cartoon? And why are you in my daughters house?” She asked and I maintained my cool, seeing as the whole family pretty much had silently crowded in the hall to watch this go down.

“Oh-“ I cleared my throat, trying to maintain my cool and I held our hands up that were laced together “I’m well acquainted with your son.” I drop them back to our sides “he’s lovely. May I just say you did a wonderful job raising him.” I said and he squeezed my hand tightly

“And I’m here to talk to said son alone. So you can take your cute little carrot top self back wherever you came from and fuck right off missy “ she snapped and I raised my brows, but before I could open my mouth Jimmy stepped in

“Heyyy! Hey hey! Donna- Donna the girl hasn’t done anything wrong come on-“

“Oh shut up jimmy.” She seethed

“MOM!” Carmen snapped, “I’m not fuckin’ doing this” he rose his voice so she could tell he was serious “I’m not. That was it- we’re done we’re leaving good fuckin job- I’m fucking leaving. Syd can you bring Winnie’s fuckin purse please?” He called to her and I saw her shoving through everyone gathered in the hallway to get back into the living room.

“Oh so you’re gonna choose this stupid girl over your own mother? What are you too good for your mother now? Is she- is she some hot shot chef? Oh- no let me guess- she’s a nurse since you messed things up with the Doctor, Claire?” She said and my mouth dropped

“Actually-“ I scoff “I work at a library- your son is the ‘hot shot’ chef. The only one in your family might I add? Donna, you are speaking to everyone horribly right now. Why do you think he wouldn’t want to talk to you when you’re acting like-“ I see her jerk her arm and I am suddenly soaking wet, and my eyes are stinging worse than I’d ever felt in my life. I shrieked, wiping my face furiously and coughing, my lungs burning as the alcoholic drink that had been thrown in my face choked me from when I’d gasped in surprise and inhaled a gulp of it.

“Oh- Donna!” Jimmy said “no- no now you gotta go dear, what’s wrong with you?”

“Someone had to shut her up to stop that annoying little speech she was putting me to sleep” she laughed drunkenly

“Mom what- WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! ARE YOU? WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING OBSESSION RUINING EVERYTHING?! THIS IS WHY - THIS- THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE YOU- I CAN'T STAND YOU! I CANT FUCKING STAND YOU MOM” Carmy roars.

“Oh my god you crazy bitch” Sadie said angrily. I couldn’t even see what was going on, everything was sticky and wet and it was driving me insane. I was still stuck in a coughing fit as I rubbed my eyes but the stinging was getting worse. The amount of overwhelmed, embarrassment, fear, anger I felt threw me headfirst into a panic attack.

“What did she throw? Oh my god my contacts Sadie - I- I need to take out my contacts” I said gasping and coughing as I felt a hand on my arm guiding me to the kitchen

“I know, I know, shhhh” she coaxed, bringing me over to the sink. “I’m gonna get them out but you have to do me a favor and stay still” she ordered, but I could barely fucking understand her with the pain.

I began sobbing uncontrollably and she turned the sink on “I’m so sorry” I said and we heard crashing coming from the front room

“What? What did she do?! MOM!!!” I heard Natalie shout “MOM THESE ARE BRAND FUCKING NEW CARPETS!! GET HER OUT!!!” She shrieked.

“YOUR FUCKING CARPETS? SHE JUST BLINDED MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND AND YOU GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE CARPETS, NAT?! THIS IS ON YOU, YOU’RE THE FUCKING REASON SHES HERE.” Carmy was in a rage. I’d never heard him so angry before.

“Everything e-everything I’m sticking- i’m sticking oh my god Sadie. Everything stings, Sadie. Help me” I cried, “what did I even say why did she do that?” I sobbed, each time I tried to open my eyes I was faced with a searing pain. All of the screaming, the fear of his mother finding me and doing further damage for god knows why, the worry for Carmy and what was happening to him - it was all too much.

“CALL THE FUCKIN’ COPS THIS SHIT IS GETTIN’ TOO FUCKIN OUT OF HAND.” Richie shouted

“I am alreadyyy on it- yup okay- let me just- I can’t hear them! I’m gonna go out there“ I heard Syd say awkwardly

“Open” Sadie said and pried my left eye open, quickly scooping out the contact before doing the same with the right causing me to wince. She had to essentially trap me against the counter and wall so I wouldn't out of instinct slap and kick her for trying to dig in my fucking eyes with her fingers.

“Ok rinse” she said once she managed to get both of the contacts out. I dove for the sink, scrubbing my face over with water, rinsing out my eyes quickly and doing my best to hold them open under the running water despite the burning and uncomfortable stinging.

“G-get Carmen please, please” I said through shaky sobs. I hadn’t even been able to listen to what was going on since Sadie had scooped out my contacts, it was as if she and I were the only people in the house due to all the adrenaline from the pain coursing through my body allowing me to focus on the task at hand the fucking blinding pain.

“Yup ok. Okay I’ll find him” she said and I heard a sharp slap come from the other room

“MOM - MOM!! DID YOU REALLY JUST HIT HIM LIKE THAT! Oh, Carmy- Are you ok? Go- go out of here- go” Natalie shrieks at donna and there’s a loud smashing of glass

“MY PLATES!!! MY PLATES!!!” Natalie shouts and starts to cry, “Jimmy! Jimmy those are my special china we got at our wedding!” She sobs “Mom! Why are you doing this?!” she pleaded

“That bitch is FUCKED up! What in the fuckin ghetto ass shit! Isn’t this the north side?!” Sadie said, causing Richie to laugh

“Welcome to the fuckin Berzatto house my friend” he told her loudly over the chaos

“Natalie! Natalie - Honey- Uncle Jimmy will replace your plates, Come on honey we need to get her out I need your help grab her other arm!” I heard Jimmy tell her

“Oh my god baby” I heard from behind me and Carmy rushed over, touching my back and I flinch.

“Don’t- don’t touch me I’m gonna have a panic response I can’t see- I don’t wanna hurt you” I said quickly, trying to even my breathing and stop crying so hard. “Please get my bag” I told him, continuing to rinse my eyes until the pain had subsided enough to open them.

“Yeah- uh…yeah” he said and I heard him go into the living room. I felt around the counter until I found the paper towel, patting my face down with it to dry.

When he came in, I took my glasses out of my purse, putting them on my face to see his cheek was unnaturally bright red- it looked so painful. There was a big raised mark with fanned out stripes from a handprint - she slapped him so hard it would bruise.

Suddenly, my panic for myself melted away and I went in to protector mode, any worry or fear melted and reformed into concern for the sweet, damaged man before me. “Oh..Bear” I whispered, rushing to the freezer and getting a bag of frozen vegetables. “My poor love”

I went over, gently pressing it to his cheek and he hissed in pain “yeah…” he said softly. “ it looks bad?” He asked

“I think she should go to jail. Either that or she agrees to go to rehab,” I said softly, gently thumbing out the wrinkle in his brow with my thumb.

“She’s not gonna go to rehab” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling and swallowing hard. I could tell he was biting back tears, as was I, because this environment wasn’t safe to cry.

“Then she goes to jail. Because this is gonna give you a black eye - and don’t you know how much I love your pretty face?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit and I kissed his good cheek.

He cracked the slightest smile, “yeah she really got me. She’s never uh…well not since I was a kid but I don’t think she’s ever hit me with all her strength like that. I was scared for a second she broke my fuckin jaw” he said and I gently rub his shoulder

“Baby really” I said softly. “Half of your face is gonna be bruised. She needs help” I said quietly.

“But….she’d never forgive me” he said brokenly, averting my gaze.

“Forgive you?! Oh bear. No, no my love. Carm, you should be thinking if you can ever forgive her. Not the other way around.” I gently rub his chest “lets go sit on the couch ok? We don’t want this rash to set and it’ll be so much worse. Cold compress should help the aching and the red and the swelling” I explained. He nodded a bit and took over holding the bag, going with me to the living room.

“I want you on my lap” he said softly and I nodded, sitting down and wrapping my arm across his shoulders, holding the bag with my other hand against his cheek.

“They’re fine- yeah- Winnie- how are your eyes?” Syd asked as she came in the living room talking on the phone

“Okay Syd, thanks. It’s Carmy I’m worried about- is your ear ok bear?” I asked him

“Still ringing” he mumbled, resting his other cheek on my chest and shutting his eyes.

“He says his ear is ringing. I’m gonna have him checked out tomorrow” I told her and she nods

“Do you…wanna press charges?” She asked and I shrug

“Tell them well know when they get here based on her behavior and if she’s being remorseful,” I said and she nodded, heading back to the front room.

“Oh my god- oh god. Carmy - Carmy I’m so sorry” Natalie said, rushing in and sitting next to us, “Winnie- Winnie I’m so sorry please forgive me I promise. I told her she has to go to rehab I told her she has to go or she can’t come here anymore-“ I cut her off

“Natalie…” I said softly. “If she doesn’t agree to be checked into an emergency rehab center- tonight? She is going to jail. Tonight. I will make sure of it. So if you don’t want her to go to jail, I would go talk her into rehab. There is nothing you have to be sorry to us for, lovey. If anything- apologize to Pete? Apologize to your daughters. But not us. Because Carmen has been saying for at least 2 months he no longer wants to interact with her, and the only time he has to is when you push him to do so. I love you, it’s why I’m telling you this. And I appreciate the roll you have in Carmys life and all you do for him- but you are enabling her. And it’s hurting the family. No matter what happens after tonight- this is the last time either of us will see her unless we’re shown definite proof she is sober.” I explained.

Carmen just sat silently, his other cheek flush against my chest with his eyes closed, likely pretending to not be here. He didn’t have the mental strength to stick up to her like this right now, nor did he have the emotional capacity to do it gently. So I was stepping up to take the load for him.

“Okay…” she nodded “okay.” She repeated and went back out to the front yard where Jimmy had wrangled Donna off to wait for the cops. “I love you” he muttered into my shirt, and he sounded utterly defeated.

Donna had chosen rehab- reluctantly. It wasn’t without a huge fight between her, Carmy, and Natalie, with many tears from each side being shed.

When we finally got home, we wordlessly stripped out of our clothes, I started the shower for us and he got our towels for us and set out our night time lavender lotion we shared on top of the counter. I put the towels in the warmer Carmy had bought for us, since he said it ‘was too much an effort for me to put them in the dryer while we shower, and the floor out there was so cold, and he dripped all over while going to get them’ so the $200 purchase was well worth it to him.

We had a silent shower, but it was not any less intimate then any of our other shared showers. We still washed each other, we still gently brushed eachothers wet strands of hair off of the others forehead. I had to swallow a lump in my throat each time my gaze met the raised bumps on his swollen red cheek.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through the next few weeks until he healed. I’d much rather her had slapped me. I could hardly imagine what he was going through inside his head right now. I had to actually remove myself and go throw up when I heard him crying, begging her to listen to Sugar and just go with her to rehab- or he would have to tell the cops to take her.

Apparently, she went through the typical stages of grief an addict goes through when realizing they’ve been backed into a corner and are no longer able to make the choice to keep using for themself. She had started by telling them the classic

‘I know- I know I’ve done some messed up things- I know I’ve hurt you kids! But I’m your mother- you really are gonna send your mother to jail? Hmm? Carmy? My littlest bear. You’d send your mama away? I don’t believe that, Carmen. Oh Carmen Anthony. My sweetest boy. Don’t you let your sister control the situation- you don’t want this sweetheart you don’t want to do this to your mother’

And when Carmen simply told her ‘no- I’m with Sug, mom you need rehab- this can’t keep goin’ ’ she flew off the handle once more, screaming at him, Sugar and the police - telling them that they were crazy- that all of them were lying about her, and that she didn’t even have a problem at all. That her ingrate horrible leech children- the ones that she had left at least, had planned for her to be taken away and locked up because they hate her- for why? She couldn’t give an answer to that in her drunken state.

For the last part of her Oscar worthy performance - She wailed, she screamed, she cursed Carmen and told him he was a mistake- that together he and Natalie had ruined her life. That she ‘knew she should have stopped at Michael.’ That they drove their father away together, drove her to drink, and then drove their brother to do what he did. That they took everything from her. That her very pregnancy’s and births with them were pure hell- as if she was birthing demons and that she’d been miserable since the day Natalie had been born, and that it hadn’t stopped. And not without telling Carmen he made things all the more worse.

In her vicious words, as told to me by Syd while Carmen comforted Natalie in the laundry room as she sobbed so hard she could barely breathe - the last thing Donna said after finding out Carmy would be the one paying for her treatment - while she being put in Pete’s car so he could drop her off was;

“Your father couldn’t handle your social deficits anymore- so he left us. that’s what really happened you drove your father away from your brother and sister. You’re the reason the family is the way it is.”

After Syd told me, I sobbed so hard I threw up again.

The look on Carmen’s face when he came to collect me in the living room to leave after tending to Natalie and getting her to bed was nothing short of haunted.

The drive back, likely goes without saying- was silent.

Carmy cut off the water after he finished delicately rinsing my hair, opening the curtain and grabbing my towel first, wrapping it around my body.

“Thanks.” I muttered, squeezing the water from my hair before drying my body off and stepping out.

He hummed in response. The rest of the evening was that- silent. It was almost a shell shock kind of silent. I felt insane guilt, so much so that silent hot tears rolled down my cheeks as we laid in the dark, trying our best to get some sleep.

“I- I know we said goodnight already” I sniffle, my voice hoarse and raw from crying. “I’ll shut up after this- I just had to tell you I’m sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry Bear. I’ll listen to you from here on. I’m sorry- It- it was so stupid it was my fault- you know your family better than anyone I was so dumb to push you and to ask to stay. I think back on it and I realize why you got upset when I asked on the porch- but hindsight is always 20/20. I got you hurt. I hurt you and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. You know I never would intentionally hurt you…right? And it feels like- like I did this to you” I said, gently rubbing his arm.

He sat up, flicking on the lamp on his side. “It’s my mom.” He said, wiping my tears. “Please. Baby. Please. I- I can’t be away from you tonight- but if I start gettin’ worked up again- I’m not gonna be able t’sleep here. Please. Princess, Honey - I love you. I fucking love you. Is that what you need? I need you to be okay right now baby- at least not cryin’. I’m hangin’ on-“ he took a shaking breath “I’m hangin by a thread. I already texted Jazz” he whispered, rubbing his face over to rid any building tears.

I swallowed thickly “I love you, Ok. Ok I’m done, I just had to tell you how sorry I am…” I said, quickly shoving all my emotions into a too small box and locking the bulging lid. He needs me right now.

“Here, you’ll be little tonight. Turn off the light” I said, laying flat and opening my arms for him.

He shut off the light, nuzzling his face into my neck, pulling me close as he possibly could. With a featherlight touch, I brush his hair off his forehead so it doesn’t tickle my mouth, gently dragging my nails across his scalp. “Thank you” he muttered.

He shivered a bit, his breath hitching slightly before he melted into me, sighing deeply. “I love you, so much, Carmen. Wholeheartedly. As sure as I am the sun will come up tomorrow, that’s how sure I am I love you. With every cell of my being. And I want you to know that it’s okay to be hurting. It’s okay to show you’re hurting, bear. You’re safe” I said quietly, before kissing his forehead tenderly.

He remained silent, fingers gently moving along the skin of my back. I continued gently scratching his scalp, rubbing his back in long soothing strokes, the only sound in the room being our breathing and my noise machine. It remained that way for about 20 minutes, before he started softly shaking with silent sobs, holding me tighter and sniffling every so often.

It went on like this for quite a while. My neck was soaking wet, so was my pillow he was nuzzled on- I didn’t care. I could flip it over. The itch of tear droplets gliding down my skin was only temporary. What he needed right now, was to be held. And to be loved. So that is what I’d give him, without any stipulation, or question, or expecting him to offer any answers.

“You didn’t deserve it. Any of it. Remember that, ok? I know it hurts. You deserved a good mother, Carm. We both did.” I said softly, kissing the side of his head.

He nodded gently, tightening his grip on me. “My fucking face hurts again. Like a bitch” he whimpered sadly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat that formed at the sound of his wet tear filled voice “Give me a second Bear, I’ll be right back yeah? You’re getting too hot, It’s worse cause you're getting all warm and its makin’ the blood rush to your face and it’s throbbing. Cold will help it feel better, let me help you sweets” He wordlessly let me up and I quickly padded out to the freezer.

Persephone meows, twirling around my legs for attention. “Hey you” I sniffled, tears brimming my eyes without an ability to stop them. I crouched down to pet her and blinked the blurry haze away, the offending tears rolling down my cheeks and dripping in 2 thick droplets onto the floor.

“Carmy is sad right now, ok? Can you come give us your sweet Sephy snuggles and make him feel better? I know you can make him giggle silly girl” I wiped my face with his white shirt, shaking my head and trying to get ahold of myself.

“Mama can do this, kittens. I can do it” I told myself, standing up again and momentarily resting the ice pack on each of my puffy eyes before blowing my nose with a tissue and heading back.

“Hi sweet boy” I said softly, carefully getting back in bed and laying with him.

“Hey” he sniffled.

I opened my arm for him “Here, we can both be cold” I joked. Resting the ice pack where he usually laid on my chest and patting it. “This will make it feel so much better, Bear” I assured him.

“Thank you” he said, gently resting his cheek and closing his eyes. He was hiccuping and doing one of those post-sob sniffles every so often, as I resumed petting his hair.

“Everything happens for a reason, Bear. And I’m really grateful I’m able to tell you I love you, tonight. I love you, and I’m here- I’ll always be here” I said softly and kissed his forehead with a gentle peck. “You too…” He whispered, and that was the last thing either of us said that night.

The next morning naturally due to the stress I woke up extra early. Well- shamefully half because of the stress. Half because Sadie was coming over for coffee and we were gonna do our usual Taylor album release antics.

I grabbed my phone carefully, seeing that Sadie had sent me twenty seven texts since midnight. The last one being

THAT CRAZY BITCH!! SHES RELEASING A PT 2. 31 FUCKIN SONGS WIN!!

I gasp quietly, ever so gently untucking Carm’s arm around me and getting up carefully. I picked up Seph who was comfy laying on his hip, squeaking in protest.

I shush her, kissing her nose and carrying her to the kitchen. “Queen put a new album out fluffabutt!!” I whispered, taking out 2 coffee mugs.

I grabbed my phone, FaceTiming Sadie “oh! Perfect! I’m at Starbucks what are you feeling?” She asked and I opened the cabinet, putting away the 2 glass mugs.

“Can I have a large like- triple shot added americano? With extra oatmilk - vanilla and cold foam, iced?” I said and she laughed

“Jesus Christ ok I’ll be ready to do CPR I guess” she joked.

“Yup, Carm and I had a late night, shall I spare you the details?” I joked and she snorted, pulling up to the drive through.

“Please- I don’t have to hear it twice.” She paused to put in our order “what does he like?” She asked

“Oh- black with sugar. He’s a weirdo. Thank you- I’ll cashapp you” I told her and she relayed it to the person working the line

“Don’t worry about it- I’ll be there soon Kay?” She asked and I smiled a bit and nod

“Sounds good. Love ya drive safe!” I told her

“Love you!” She replied as I hung up.

I heard stirring in the bathroom and the toilet flushed, so I headed back over to the bedroom just as Carm lays back down on his side of the bed.

“G’morning lovey” I said softly

“Hey- whats’up why’ya outta bed?” He yawned. My heart ached slightly at the sight of his puffy eyes and red nose from crying so long last night, but mostly the reddening on his cheek.

“Uh- it’s Taylor day- Sadie was coming over but we’re gonna get outta here so you don’t have to listen to us, don’worry” I sit down on my side of the bed.

“Why?” He asked, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me to him.

“We don’t wanna bug you…” I shrugged a bit. My past boyfriends would sometimes get annoyed about my passion for music- especially Taylor, and Sadie was just as loud and enthusiastic as I was- and especially due to the previous nights events. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d be feeling snappier then usua & didn’t want to deal with our squealing and excited antics.

“Why’d you bein’ happy bug me, honey?” He said softly, resting his head on my lap and looking up at me.

I shrugged, gently playing with his hair. “I dunno… I guess if it’s ok we’ll stay, we’ll make sure t’be quiet cause you need your sleep baby your eyes are exhausted” I said softly, gently running my thumb over the bags under his eyes with my other hand. He sighed contently nuzzling his face in my stomach.

“Sounds good t’me…Can I ask you somethin’ and you won’t laugh?” He asked, eyes still closed.

“I’d never laugh at you, baby. Well- except that one time you thought rupaul were 2 different people.” I teased with a giggle and he snorts a laugh

“Stop it I’m serious. Did that all….really happen? Last night?” He asked and I gently bit my lip.

“I love you, and your mom is getting help. If that’s what you mean” I said, trying to lead with the good and put the bad as gently as I possibly could.

He sighed softly “mmhmm.” he muttered, remaining quiet for a little bit. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he didn’t want to speak any more about it. Considering last night was the first time i’d met his mother- he was likely feeling embarrassed knowing him (which he shouldn’t be) but nonetheless- nothing I could say would remove that shame from him. The shame of being the child of an unhealed alcoholic was a wound that no one or nothing could heal unless she got the help she needed.

“Wait don’t we gotta go get the album or whatever baby? From Target yea?” He peeked up at me. My heart swelled at the fact he remembered that I told him about the little process Sadie and I had when Taylor would release an album. We didn’t go as far as to having a huge party and staying up until midnight how we used to, but we’d both take the day off work & get starbucks before going to target and buying the Vinyl & CD & listening it in her car together while we do a mini road trip and get lunch.

When I’d told him about it- he said it was ‘really sweet’ and that it seemed like a great time, I told him it was and jokingly invited him expecting him to pass- but surprisingly he agreed, & told me he likes hanging out with Sadie and I because we were ‘funny’ which just made me fall in love with him all the more that he enjoys my best friends company how I do.

I shook my head a bit “No carmy. We can just relax- we had a hard night. It can just wait you’re more important” I said gently and he sat up a bit, furrowing his brows slightly.

“No- no, I have therapy at 2 we got time you’ve been wantin’ this baby. I wanna see too what it’s about. All the letters and stuff? Mm? It’ll be fun right?” He rubbed my arm gently. I had been telling him all about the letters Taylor had been posting on her social media in preparation for the album. I never expected him to be actually listening since I was just rambling on and I know he doesn’t listen to music so I thought he was just letting me go on because he cares about me.

“You really…you really care?” I asked, astonished he would even humor me by tolerating my interests- let alone actually asking questions about them and wanting to learn and participate in them the same way I’d ask him about cooking.

“What? Yes. Yes, honey, I love listenin’ t’you talk about this stuff. Y’fuckin light up when you do. How could I not like it if it makes you happy?” He asked and I felt tears welling up behind my eyes.

I hugged him tightly, nuzzling my face in his neck and he wrapped me in a bear hug, laying back on the mattress as I curl myself around him. “Y’think I don’t realize when y’tell me things you’re lookin’ forward to babe?” He asked gently and rubs my back soothingly.

“I love you. So much” I whispered, blinking away hot stinging tears. “Nd you give such good hugs” I giggled, smiling when I feel him chuckle against me.

“So you’ve told me” he kissed my temple “Now tell me princess, how do we do this? You said it’s a process hm?” He asked and I smiled big, sitting back and looking at him with my arms wrapped around his neck loosely.

I knew he wasn’t a particular fan of hers, Carmy wasn’t really a fan of anything. He barely listened to music on his own, but because I listened to music near constantly - he’d gotten well adjusted to something always playing, and it was usually her. He would make it a point to say “ I do really like this one honey what’s it about?” When he’d heard ones he liked while cooking dinner or breakfast for us and of course I’d happily oblige.

“Uh..” my cheeks heat as he kissed down my jaw and neck “so - we usually listen to the first single separately…” my breath hitches as he stops at my collarbones, tugging the collar of his shirt down over my shoulder easily and biting down gently on the fleshy part. He hummed as if to say ‘go on’

“That- would um..be the first track so. Yeah and then we listen to the rest together but like slow- we relisten to the songs over and over, it’s weird” I said, losing my train of thought as he kissed the top of my breast, sucking lightly before pulling away and looking up at me.

“Put it on then mm?” he rested his chin in the hill of my breasts looking up at me with those big blue puppy eyes of his.

“I’m gonna tell you a lot today but I love you and you’re the best” I kissed his forehead gently and grabbed my phone from the nightstand.

He smiled a bit, blush creeping across his cheeks. “So since im the best…does that mean we can fool around before Sadie gets here?” he sucked on my neck gently and I scratch his hair gently as I one handedly checked her location.

“She’s 7 minutes away don’t think so especially since she has a key” I connect my phone to my bluetooth speaker.

“Mmm” he huffs brattily, leaning into my touch and closing his eyes.

“Ok, it’s been less then 24 hours, you little pervert- this one’s called Fortnight, A Fortnight if you don’t know is a period of 2 weeks. If you can remember the name of one song from this album before we go to bed I’ll do whatever you want any position at all” I smirked and he looked up at me quickly, like a puppy being asked if they’d like to go on a walk.

“The mating press one?” he asked and I roll my eyes playfully with a smirk.

“Yes you horny fucker. Now shhh” I kissed his lips gently as I hit play on the song so he couldn’t ask any more questions.

He hummed happily and cupped my cheek with his calloused hand, rubbing his thumb over my cheek sweetly. When he pulled away he said, “The beat is cool” which made me smile big and pull him into another sweet kiss, gently rubbing over the back of his neck.

I gently rested my head on his shoulder as I listened and he snorted a laugh at the line ‘Your wife waters flowers, I want to kill her.’ “She’s so honest about her feelings, it’s refreshing” he mutters and I giggle a bit.

“Well yeah- if I lost you and then you went off and dated someone else and got married and we ended up being neighbors? If you didn’t move i’d fantasize about killing that bitch every day” I laced our fingers together.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Marriage would be completely off the table if you left me, so it’d never happen” He said and I blushed pink, squeezing his hand gently.

“I’d never leave you, Bear. Ever, you know that. Here let me see hows your cheek baby?” I gently turn his face and bit my lip at the fanned out pink and deep red marks as well as a blotch in the middle of his cheek.

“Yeah I look fuckin…horrible” he cleared his throat, looking away from my gaze. I shook my head quickly

“Baby-” I swallowed thickly, trying to hold back my tears and maintain an even normal voice. He hated when I cried, it always made him so upset, so the last thing I needed was to make him hurt more then he already was right now. “It looks fine.” I lied “I meant are you hurting? Can I get you some tylenol or something? Want me to ice it for you?” I asked and barely even brushed my finger over it and he winced.

“Ah- don’t” he hissed and I frowned.

“I’m gonna go get an ice pack love” I got up and went to the freezer. The way he wasn’t fighting on me, meant it really was hurting him- but Carmy is Carmy and wasn’t ever going to complain. But it still bothered me how he would just sit there in pain & not say anything about it so I could take care of him.

I came back to bed with the icepack and gently held it to his face and he sighed in relief. “Thank you angel” He said softly. I paused the song before it could start the next one without Sadie here and kissed his forehead.

“Of course sweets, I’m gonna get dressed mm?” I said and he hummed in agreement, taking the icepack and holding it to himself, laying back on the bed and sighing softly to himself.

“So do you have a special Taylor outfit too baby?” he asked as I opened my closet. I smiled a bit, looking through it.

“Kinda- I’m gonna wear my Folklore cardigan” I took it out and tossed it on the bed and he looks at it carefully, dragging his finger over the embroidered stars “Cause that’s what Sadie’s wearin’ so were gonna match” I said and speak of the devil, I heard the door open.

“In here! He’s already up, Oh my god!! ‘My husbands cheating I wanna kill him?!’ Bitch this albums gonna be insane” I called out to herand she came to the bedroom, baring a tray of coffees.

“Stop it’s been on repeat since last night for me, It’s so good!! Hey Carm” she greeted him and goes over, setting the tray on the nightstand and handing him the only hot coffee in the tray.

“Oh-Uh, thanks…” He said shyly. He still hadn’t been able to be out of his shell fully unless it was just us, but he was slowly getting there. His eyes slightly widen as I started stripping and putting on a fresh pair of panties and a bra while Sadie and I continued casually talking.

“Oh the first part about being sent away- literally us” I said causing us both to laugh as I hit play on the song again.

“First thing I thought when I heard it, oh are we twinning?! Cuutee!!” She said excitedly with a smile.

“So…you just look at eachothers tits?” Carm asked bluntly and Sadie and I both laugh.

“No- weirdo- shes just changing i’m not staring at her. You don’t change in front of your dude friends?” she asked and he shook his head.

“You’ve never changed in front of other dudes?” she asked to which he shook his head again lightly as he held the icepack to his cheek.

“He didn’t play any sports bug” I told her as I jumped and wiggled into my jeans before buttoning them.

“Ahhh- ok. That tracks, when did you graduate?” she asked him.

“High- High School? Er…” he asked, looking at me nervously before looking back at her. If she’d been a stranger I’d willingly save him from the discomfort of being asked about himself - but it’s healthy for him to branch out and talk to people since he refused to do it himself, and Sadie was more then safe for him to try that with.

“Yeah! I went to Gage Park and graduated in 2012 - same year as Win” she nodded

“Oh- uh..no I um… I went to Foreman and graduated in 2011” he replied and took a sip of his coffee. “How’d you know?” he motioned to the cup and she shrugged with a smile

“If I said i’m a coffee psychic i’m not sure you’d believe me, your lovely pooh bear has your order memorized,” she said and I rolled my eyes, putting on my deodorant with a small smile.

“It’d be more impressive if he remembered my order since his is literally just sugar” I said and Sadie grabbed my cup from the nightstand, covering the sticker.

“Boyfriend test! What’s her coffee order?” she teased him and I looked over at him raising my eyebrows playfully.

“Here’s your real test of love” I joked, slipping my cardigan on and grabbing my hairbrush, beginning to detangle my rats nest from not tying it up before I went to sleep.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Iced americano, with shots in it depending on how tired she is- and then add vanilla, and extra light with the oatmilk shit, and extra of the cold foam stuff on the top - and cinnamon” he said and Sadie raised her eyebrows in surprise, looking over at me.

“Trained ‘em well” she said and I laughed, pausing my hairbrushing to come give him a well deserved kiss.

“Do I love you yet?” he joked and I giggle, pinching his bicep playfully.

“Remembered the cinnamon huh?” I kiss the tip of his nose and he pats my bum gently.

“Yes- can we please turn on the next song now? We’ve heard it 50 times now babe” He asked and I laugh a bit.

“More like less then 10, but ok lover because I don’t want you sick of us just yet” I hit skip to start playing the next song which was the title track as I sat at my vanity and finished brushing my hair. Sadie came up and put my coffee on the vanity for me, going over to my perfumes and smelling various ones as we listened.

Came the part of the song where the lyrics were ‘I scratch your head, you fall asleep - like a tattooed golden retriever’ and Sadie and I stared at eachother for a moment before looking at Carmen, then back to eachother and cracking up. She had witnessed many times now when we’d have little dinner party’s with he and Syd when they insisted on cooking for us and showing us a new recipe, he’d work himself so hard that sitting on the couch after everything had been cleaned up when I was gently playing with his hair he’d fall asleep in my lap and miss them leaving.

“Hey- What! What’s funny?” he asked, not even realizing the lyrics we were laughing at, not having been paying attention like we were and he puts his coffee down. “Tell me! Tell me what did I do?” He whined a bit with a slight pout, how he usually did when he realized he’d missed a joke and I laughed at his adorable childlike tiny tantrum.

“Nothin’ - Taylor had a little tattooed golden retriever too I guess” I shrugged and he put the icepack down, confused.

“Hell’s that mean?” he asked and came over to me, watching as I put on my eyeliner.

“It means you’re cute and have nice energy, baby” I said before resuming to carefully draw a sharp wing.

“Mm” he grumbled how he did when he didn’t understand me but was just deciding to let it go. “How long will this take? I wanted you t’try that sauce i’m makin’ when we get back” he kissed the top of my head lightly as I paused to shake the pen so more ink would go to the tip.

“Not long, Bear. We’ll be back with plenty of time to try your sauce, yeah? Go shower baby” I said, leaning into the mirror as I start my other eye.

“Kay…y’look pretty” he said softly and rested his hand on the desk, leaning. I smiled a bit

“Thank you, you’re hovering, lovey. Did you want a kiss?” I puckered my lips and his cheeks redden in response as he leans down and kisses my lips.

“Thank you” he muttered

“Baby you can ask me for loves when Sadies here, shes not gonna judge you” I assured him and she looks up from her phone.

“What?” she replied, clearly not having paid attention.

“See” I assure him and rub his chest just above his belly gently. “Make sure you dont let your face hit the hot water ok lovey?” I ask and he nodded a bit. It was more than clear that last nights events were causing him to be much clingier and wanting of physical touch which was more then normal after something like that, especially for him. The last time he’d had a big blowout fight with his mom, he’d not even wanted me to go to the bathroom alone - his mind was absolutely a prison in times like this, and me being near made it easier to manage.

“Mm i’ll be careful” he said and went to the bathroom, shutting the door since Sadie was here and preoccupying Sephy so she wouldn’t feel the need to go and scratch.

“So…How was like- after” Sadie asked when she heard the water start. I cleared my throat, nervously stretching my back and shaking my eyeliner pen some more.

“Not much. He’s not a talker, made sure he knew I was here. He cried a little, it’s better then nothing. He’s seeing his therapist.” I told her and she nods a bit, looking at me in the mirror.

“His sister was a mess too, like- her husband had to drop her kids off at his parents house so they wouldnt see the rest of it. She kinda bitched me out when I opened the laundry room by mistake, Syd said she didn’t mean it, though” she picked at her nails nervously.

“She didn’t, Sadie. Natalie really is one of the nicest people. His family is just…” I sighed. “She said it was like this before their brother, but- now its like…no love left. Like he was the main string that tied the family all together and now that he’s gone- it’s impossible to be together. My therapist says that a tragedy like that either breaks a family or brings them closer together- Chris broke mine too, so I don’t blame them. I wasn’t strong enough - er…my family wasn’t strong enough, either.” I explained and she shook her head.

“No way, Win. You’re so strong, and so, so smart. It wasn’t your job- it was your familys job.” She said and I sighed softly, finishing up my eyeliner. I wanted to believe her - but something in me couldn’t help but feel weak at the fact I had no family left that bothered to speak to me other then my Grandma, and I had Carmy and his family right in front of me in dire need of help and I’m not even the one hurting this time- and I still cant save him from them.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by Carm’s phone ringing - “Hand it please” I requested since Sadie was laying on my side of the bed, she leaned over and grabbed the phone before reaching out to me and handing it over.

Natalie's name flashed on the screen and I slid it, to answer putting the phone to my ear. “Carmy? Mom had a seizure last night apparently- uh…they’re saying she has some…some- disease from drinking? Please- how fast can you get here? I really don’t wanna do this by myself…”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

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kokoch4n3l · 4 months

Text

ˏˋ main yahaan hoon ࿐ྂ "I'm in the lights of your eyes, you see me wherever you look"

summary: in which you meet Sano Manjiro a month before your wedding and fall in love. you didn't realize you fell in love with him till the pre-wedding rituals began.

pairing(s): bonten!mikey x desi!reader

notes: title translates to 'I'm here'. a purely self-indulgent fic based on Veer-Zaara(2004)'s song Main Yahaan Hoon if Veer was a gang leader and was actually at the wedding instead of Zaara hallucinating him. line dividers by rookthornesartistry heart divider by cafekitsune

warnings: infidelity, cheating, arranged marriages, implied emotionally absent parents, emotional blackmail, suggestive themes, implied oral(f), manjiro carries reader, slightly open ending

word count: 5690

Your father was a politician, businessman and just well very rich. You’re his only daughter so he spoils you rotten. Giving you all the things you can ever want. He was a good man, your mother a great person too. However, it wasn’t a very emotionally fulfilling relationship. You were okay with it though. Jewels and clothes sated the ache in your heart even if it was temporary. You got engaged almost as soon as you turned of age. The man was just a little bit older and also a politician like your father. Arranged marriages were common in your culture and you had never dated before anyway. It’s about a month before the wedding you meet Sano Manjiro. You aren’t sure what he does but he’s also really rich like your father. He has a few close business associates and they all have matching full moon hanafuda tattoos. Sanzu Haruchiyo let you trace his tattoo for some reason after seeing your fascination with it.

Bonten were business associates of your father. You weren’t sure exactly for what but you also couldn't care less. They were all pretty fun people. You made them watch Bollywood movies with you and do a whole bunch of other things and they did it without any complaint and seemed to enjoy it as well. They were all cool and then there was Sano Manjiro…

Sano Manjiro was different from the rest. He had a quiet intensity about him, a presence that demanded attention without a single word. You noticed his eyes first—dark, deep, and endlessly contemplative. He was always observing, absorbing everything around him with a sharp, discerning gaze. Despite his quiet demeanour, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. At first, you thought he wouldn’t be putting up with your childish games but he proved you wrong. When you called him a stupid idiot he didn’t get mad but instead, he smiled. He was amused. For some reason, it surprised you because he didn’t seem like the type to smile or just show any kind of emotion in general.

Your father, of course, invites them all to your wedding. It was all fine but you don’t want to marry your fiancé. He was nice at first but there was something about him that put you off. You didn’t like that man. You sit in your father’s office in your engagement outfit while music echoes from the bottom floor of the mansion to the top. A white lengha with intricate embroidery adorns your figure with a full-sleeve blouse along with a diamond necklace gifted by your future mother-in-law and a matching tikka in the same style resting in the center of your forehead. Your dupatta is draped over your head and right now it feels too heavy. Although you and your fiancé were already engaged, your mother-in-law insisted on having a flashy ceremony to kick start the wedding week. “You’re my only child… Hence, I’ve pampered you and given you freedom” Your father says, his hands clasped behind his back and using his businessman voice “I haven’t raised you like a girl but like a boy”

There is a lump in your throat. You know if you speak you’ll cry. Your father walks toward you. “Usually the mother has to explain to her daughters about her duties. But since I think of you as my son, I’ll explain your duties to you”

You look up at him. You’re sitting in his chair the same way you would when you were a child. But unlike back then, your bare feet press flat against the hardwood floor. “You already know that your grandfather was a respected politician. But he died a few days before he could attain success. Since that day, as his heir, I’ve been trying to take his party to great heights but I’ve been unsuccessful so far” He says and you know already what he will say next “But with the help of your finacé’s father, I can attain that success”

You don’t feel too good. The lump in your throat gets bigger and you desperately try to swallow it. Your father turns your back to you, staring at your family picture. “Soon you’ll get married into their family. It’s your duty…” He pauses and turns to look at you again “...to understand the importance of this relationship. Spread happiness, whether the times are good or bad and strengthen the bond of every relationship and to protect the honour of both families at all costs. A small mistake or a bit of carelessness from your end could ruin everything… I hope you understand what I’m trying to say.”

He knows, he knows, he knows. Your father had a feeling you no longer wished to marry the man you were betrothed to. You swallow the lump in your throat and whisper out a pitiful “yes.”

“Is there anything you wish to say?”

You simply shake your head no. You couldn’t. You had to marry this man even if you didn’t want to. Your father was practically begging you without actually begging. He smiles. “Come here”

You stand up, your anklets jingle with each step you take. “It’s been so long since I saw my daughter smile,” He says as you now stand in front of him “I hope you haven’t left it in Japan”

You smile weakly. How were you to tell him you did? How do you tell your father you left your heart in Japan? He pulls you in for a hug and a single tear runs down your cheek.

You did not wish to marry the man you were promised to but you didn’t want to break your father’s heart either.

Your father leads you down the large marble staircase, the railing covered with flowers and the entire bottom floor decorated lavishly. The vibrant colours and festive sounds of the pre-wedding celebration fill the air, yet your heart feels heavy with an unspoken sorrow. As you descend the staircase, your eyes scan the crowd, seeking a familiar face—a face that brought unexpected joy and confusion to your life. In the midst of the lively guests, you spot Sano Manjiro standing quietly at the edge of the room with his associates. He is dressed in beige slacks and a silk back button-up shirt, his presence commanding even in the bustling environment. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the noise around you fades. His gaze, deep and inscrutable, seems to reach into the very depths of your soul. The rituals proceed with the grandeur expected of such an event. The music, the dancing, the laughter—all blend into a blur as your mind drifts back to the times spent with Manjiro and his associates. The times when you could be yourself when you laughed genuinely and felt a connection beyond words. Sanzu Haruchiyo, always mischievous yet kind, had once teased you about your fascination with their tattoos. “Do you want one too?” he joked, letting you trace the lines of the intricate hanafuda design.

You had laughed, but deep down, there was something about those moments that felt more real than anything else in your life. As you and your fiancé exchange rings, you feel Manjiro’s eyes on you, a silent support that gives you strength. The night progresses, and you find yourself stealing glances at him, your heart aching with an unspoken truth. You didn’t want this arranged marriage. You wanted something more, something that only he seemed to understand.

It feels stupid though. It’s probably a simple infatuation but oh you had never felt this way in your life before and even as your fiancé slides the engagement ring onto your finger, the only thing that goes through your mind is Manjiro.

You sit alone in your room late at night on your bed, too lazy to sit at your dresser. Your dupatta was carelessly discarded at the foot of your bed as soon as you entered your room, too lazy to even remove your lengha and get in bed. The day had been tiring. You start to remove your jewelry, starting with the large diamond necklace that felt way too heavy. It’s as you are taking off the tikka from your forehead that someone enters. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. The air shifts, and the familiar, intense presence washes over you. It’s Manjiro. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. He steps closer, his movements silent on the plush carpet. He doesn’t say anything else, just stands there, watching as you fumble with the clasp of your tikka. Your fingers tremble, and the delicate piece slips from your grasp, falling onto your lap. “Let me,” he offers, reaching out. His hands are gentle but firm as he takes over, carefully removing the tikka and setting it aside.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a warmth spreading through you, melting the anxiety and sorrow that had been weighing you down. “Thank you,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible.

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s a question in his gaze, an unspoken query that you can’t quite decipher. The silence between you is heavy with words left unsaid, emotions unacknowledged. “Why did you come here?” you ask, needing to break the silence, to understand why he’s here, why he makes you feel the way you do.

“I needed to see you,” he replies simply, his gaze steady. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His concern touches you deeply, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You blink them back, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. Manjiro sits down next to you, being careful to not sit on your skirt. He reaches over and starts to remove your earrings. Despite his fingers being calloused and rough, his hands are gentle. He touches you like the slightest touch might break you. Each brush of his fingers against your skin feels like a promise, unspoken but powerful. You sit there, letting him help you, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over you. The weight of the day's events begins to lift, replaced by the warmth of his presence. When he's done, he sets the earrings aside and meets your gaze again. His eyes are filled with something you can't quite name, something that makes your heart beat faster. “Let’s get this off, hm?” Manjiro’s hand reaches around you and tugs the strings on the back of your blouse free

Your breath catches, but you nod, trusting him implicitly. The fabric loosens, and you feel the pressure on your chest easing. He helps you out of the heavy, ornate lengha, his movements were careful, his eyes never straying where they shouldn't. This was wrong. So wrong. You were a damn cheater. But as Manjiro unzips your blouse and pulls it off your arms, you can’t find yourself to care. “‘Jiro…” Your breath is shaky as he lowers your bare body down

“Don’t worry” he whispers, a heavy hand cupping your cheek so tenderly

Something in your head tells you it’s been years since this man was tender to anyone. Your breath hitches at the touch of his roughened palm against your cheek, a stark contrast to the softness in his gaze. Manjiro's thumb gently brushes away a stray tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that seems to pierce through your very soul. "I shouldn't be here" you murmur, your voice barely audible, a mix of fear and yearning.

It was a little stupid you were even saying that since it was your own room. "But you want me here" he counters softly, not a question, but a statement of truth.

The words hang between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. Your heart beats wildly, torn between duty and desire. You don’t reply, unable to deny the truth in his statement. Manjiro’s presence is intoxicating, a dangerous allure that you find impossible to resist. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. "Tell me to leave, and I will," he whispers, his lips so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his words. "But if you want me to stay…"

You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. The choice is yours, and you know what your heart wants. "Stay" you breathe, barely more than a whisper, but enough for him to hear and without missing a beat he slides your engagement ring off your finger

Manjiro doesn’t take your virginity that night. Instead, he calls you a good girl for saving yourself for after marriage and then gets down between your legs and ravishes you.

The next morning was the Haldi ceremony. In the ceremony turmeric paste would be smeared on your face and oil on your hair. It was more of a fun kind of thing anyway and during all the weddings you have attended in the past, all the guests would end up getting the turmeric paste all over themselves while playing around with it. You were wearing a yellow salwar kameez with flowers embroidered on the top and your dupatta was bright pink. You sit on the ground by the pool while your cousins hold up a heavier more embroidered dupatta over top of you like shielding you from the sky. “Don’t put too much” You warn your dad as he smears some of the turmeric paste on your cheek

There is oil dripping down your forehead from when your cousin decided he wanted to be funny and poured the entire bowl on your head. Tumeric paste is smeared on your feet, arms, cheeks and nose. The vibrant colours of the ceremony blur together, a swirl of yellow and pink, laughter echoing around you. Yet, despite the cheerful chaos, your mind is elsewhere, drifting back to the previous night. Manjiro's touch lingers on your skin like a haunting melody, one you cannot shake off no matter how hard you try. Your father's laughter brings you back to the present, his smile wide as he steps aside for the next relative to apply the turmeric paste.

As the ceremony continues, you feel a pair of eyes on you. You glance up and catch a glimpse of Manjiro standing a little away from the festivities, his usual quiet intensity softened by a hint of something tender. He stands apart from his associates, watching you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of you. The noise of the ceremony fades, replaced by the silent conversation happening between your gazes. Your heart beats faster as you remember his whispered promises from the night before. His words, his touch—they haunt you, make you question everything you thought you knew about your life and your impending marriage. You know it's reckless, dangerous even, to let yourself feel this way. But you can't help it. Not when his presence brings you a sense of peace and belonging you’ve never felt before. “This stuff smells weird” Koko comments as he crouches in front of you and smells the turmeric paste on his fingers before smearing it on your cheek “Are you sure this is safe for your skin?”

“Of course it is” you reassure with a smile

The rest of Bonten does the same. Finally, it’s Manjiro’s turn. He crouches down in front of you, an unknown emotion swirling in his eyes. Without a word, he takes the yellow paste and smears some on your right cheek then the left. His touch is gentle, yet it sends shivers down your spine, the same way it did the night before. The world around you seems to disappear as he smooths the paste over your skin, his eyes never leaving yours. The silence between you is filled with unspoken words, emotions too raw to be expressed in the midst of the celebration. Your heart pounds in your chest as his fingers linger on your skin, his touch both comforting and electrifying. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, his voice so low only you can hear.

His words are simple, but the intensity behind them makes your breath hitch. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise of the celebration.

You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, mixing with the turmeric paste. He offers you a small, almost shy smile, and for a moment, you see a vulnerability in him that he usually keeps hidden. You bring your hand up and smear the paste on his cheek too, making him laugh. His laughter is a rare sound, rich and deep, and it reverberates through you, filling your heart with warmth. You can't help but smile in response, your fingers lingering on his cheek for a moment longer than necessary. The world around you resumes its chaotic pace, but the connection between you and Manjiro remains, a silent promise amidst the noise and colour of the celebration.

As the Haldi ceremony continues, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of your engagement ring, now conspicuously absent from your finger, feels like a liberation and a burden all at once. You glance at Manjiro again, finding comfort in his steady gaze. It’s as if he understands the turmoil within you without needing to ask.

As the ceremony comes to an end and the guests start to leave, you struggle to pick your dupatta off one of the chairs with your turmeric-covered hands. “Damn it” you mutter and look around for someone to help you

“Here you go” Rindo picks up your dupatta for you

You sigh in relief. “Thank you. Can you help me go up to my room?”

It was going to be a task going up to your room while covered in turmeric paste so you needed help. Rindo nods and offers you his arm, guiding you carefully through the crowd and up the stairs. The turmeric paste makes everything slippery, and you're grateful for his steady presence. As you make your way to your room, you can feel Manjiro's eyes on you, a silent promise of his support and understanding. Once inside your room, Rindo helps you sit on the edge of your bed, his touch careful and respectful. “Do you need anything else?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

You shake your head, offering him a grateful smile, your eyes lingering for a moment of the front of his throat where the full moon hanafuda tattoo it etched then you look back up at his eyes. “No, thank you. I’ll manage from here.”

Rindo nods and leaves, closing the door softly behind him. You sit there for a moment, the events of the day and the night before swirling in your mind. You know you need to wash off the turmeric paste, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Manjiro. Eventually, you stand and make your way to the bathroom. The warm water washes away the turmeric, leaving your skin tingling and fresh.

Later that night was the mendhi ceremony. Your hands are covered in intricate designs of flowers and swirls made with henna all the way up to your elbows and your feet with the same. “Ma~” you whine to your mother who was too busy talking to her sister to feed you

Your mother laughs, a twinkle in her eye as she waves you off, engrossed in her conversation. You sigh, looking at the plate of food in front of you, and then at your hands, which are still wet with henna. The intricate designs are beautiful, but they make it impossible for you to eat on your own. You glance around the room, hoping to find someone to help you. Your eyes meet Manjiro’s from across the room. He’s standing with his associates, but his gaze is fixed on you, a soft, knowing smile playing on his lips. Before you can beckon him over, he starts to walk towards you, effortlessly weaving through the crowd. He kneels down next to you, his presence a comforting weight. “Need some help?” he asks, his voice low and warm.

You nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yes, please. I can’t eat with this on.”

Manjiro picks up the spoon and gently lifts a small portion of food to your lips. His movements are careful, and deliberate, as if this simple act holds profound significance. You open your mouth, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. As he feeds you, you catch the subtle smirk on his face, and you can't help but smile back. “This is quite the look for you,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Covered in henna and unable to eat by yourself.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, your voice playful. “This is supposed to be a special time, you know?”

“It is,” he agrees, his tone softening. “And you look beautiful.”

The sincerity in his words makes your heart skip a beat. You chew and swallow, the taste of the food mingling with the warmth spreading through your chest. Manjiro continues to feed you, the moment intimate despite the bustling celebration around you. Each spoonful feels like a silent promise, a shared secret that binds you closer together. “Food is spicy…” He murmurs

“You don’t like spicy food?” you ask him

He shakes his head no. “I like the sweets though… After you get married bring me some in Japan?” You laugh softly, the sound mingling with the music and chatter in the room. “Of course,” you promise, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of sharing such a simple pleasure with him. “I’ll bring you all the sweets you want.”

Manjiro's smile widens, a rare glimpse of genuine happiness on his usually stoic face. “I’ll hold you to that,” he replies, his gaze steady on yours. “But only if you promise to come back soon.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you find yourself nodding before you can even think. “I promise,” you say, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

The rest of the mendhi ceremony passes in a blur of laughter and music, but the memory of that moment with Manjiro lingers, a silent promise of things to come. As the night draws to a close, you find yourself reluctant to leave his side, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

It’s as you lay in bed and stare at your henna-stained hands, searching for your fiancé’s name among the intricate designs. But as you scan the patterns, your heart sinks, and a furrow forms on your brow. The once-clear inscription has been smeared beyond recognition, lost amidst the swirls of henna. A mix of emotions washes over you—relief, guilt, and a pang of sadness. Relief because it feels like a sign, a small reprieve from the impending marriage you’re dreading. Guilt because you know you shouldn’t feel relieved, and shouldn’t be hoping for a way out of a commitment you made. And sadness because despite everything, there’s a part of you that still longs for the simplicity of what could have been. You trace the faint outlines of the henna design, your mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The bond between you and Manjiro grows stronger with each passing moment, a silent promise of a future you never dared to imagine. But the reality of your situation weighs heavily on your shoulders, reminding you of the duty and obligations that bind you to your fiancé and your family.

With a heavy sigh, you curl your fingers into fists. The events of the day replay in your mind—the stolen moments with Manjiro, the whispered promises, the shared laughter. Despite the uncertainty of the future, one thing is clear—you’re falling for him, and there’s no turning back.

The next night is the ladies' sangeet. It’s the last thing left and the next morning is the wedding. You sit with all your female relatives as they sing and dance to old folk songs. You sit among them, a forced smile plastered on your face, your mind drifting to thoughts of the impending wedding. Tomorrow, you'll be bound to a man you don't love, forced into a life of duty and obligation that feels suffocating. When no one is looking, you stand up and hed to the backyard where most your male relatives are, drinking away as usual. You can see Ran has unfortunately been cornered by one of your drunk uncles and is explaining Punjabi politics to him. Ran looks at you for help but you just grin and shake your head. You spot Manjiro walking over to you and you smile at him. “Hi” You say as you walk through the garden together, you anklets jingling with each step you take.

"Hi," Manjiro replies, his voice low and warm, a stark contrast to the chaos of the sangeet unfolding behind you. His presence brings a sense of calm, a welcome respite from the suffocating atmosphere of obligation and expectation.

You walk through the garden together, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm light over the flowers and foliage. The air is filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and roses, a stark contrast to the heavy perfume of the crowded hall. You feel a weight lift off your shoulders with each step, the knot of anxiety in your chest slowly unravelling in his presence. "Having fun?" Manjiro asks, his gaze steady on yours.

There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation. You shake your head, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Not exactly," you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "I feel like I'm suffocating in there."

Manjiro nods in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I can imagine," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper “Japanese weddings are not this… festive or colourful. Must be a little overwhelming”

You nod, grateful for his understanding. "It's not just that," you confess, your voice tinged with frustration. "It's the weight of expectation, the pressure to conform to tradition and duty." You pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "I feel like I'm being suffocated by it all."

Manjiro listens in silence, his gaze unwavering as he takes in your words. There's a depth to his understanding, a sense of empathy that makes you feel seen in a way you haven't felt in a long time. "I know what it's like to feel trapped," he says finally, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "To feel like you're living a life that's not your own."

His words strike a chord within you, resonating with the turmoil you've been feeling. "Do you ever wish things were different?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Manjiro's gaze softens, a hint of something tender in his eyes. "All the time," he admits, his voice filled with honesty and you watch his hand come up to touch the full moon hanafuda tattoo on the back of his neck "But sometimes, we have to make the best of the hand we're dealt."

You nod in understanding, a pang of sympathy tugging at your heart as you take in the vulnerability in Manjiro's words. His admission resonates with your own feelings of frustration and longing, the desire for a life beyond the confines of duty and expectation. "But that doesn't mean we have to give up hope," you say softly "We can still fight for what we want, for the freedom to live our lives on our own terms."

Manjiro's gaze meets yours, a flicker of something akin to hope dancing in his eyes. "And what do you want?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to voice the question aloud.

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of your desires heavy on your shoulders. “I… I don’t know yet”

And Manjiro simply smiles at your answer and says “well clock is ticking… better hurry up and figure it out” then turns to go back to where he was sitting with your father, other business partners and relatives

As Manjiro walks away, leaving you alone in the tranquil garden, his words linger in the air, a gentle reminder of the urgency of your situation. The weight of expectation and duty presses down on you once more. You watch Manjiro's retreating figure, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing stirring within you. Despite the uncertainty of the future, one thing is clear—your heart is leading you towards him, towards a life of freedom and possibility.

You turn back towards the bustling sangeet, the music and laughter spilling out into the night air. Tomorrow is the wedding, the final culmination of weeks of preparation and anticipation. But as you rejoin the festivities, your mind is elsewhere, filled with thoughts of the man who has captured your heart and the future that awaits.

As the night wears on and the sangeet draws to a close, you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, apprehension, and a simmering sense of rebellion— something you shouldn’t be feeling. Tomorrow, you'll be bound to a man you don't love, forced into a life of duty and obligation. But tonight, in the quiet solitude of the garden, you allow yourself to dream of a different future, one where you're free to follow your heart, no matter where it leads.

As the first light of dawn breaks over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the garden, you feel a sense of anticipation stirring within you. In a few hours, you’ll be married. It’s scary. So scary and you feel sick. You sit in a yellow kameez and white salwar, fingers trembling as you put on the naath, hooking it to your nose and fixing the chain over your ear to see how you look in it. The cool metal of the jewellery rests over your lips that you’ve bitten raw. Your makeup lays untouched, face bare. You need to start getting ready.

It’s the early hours of the morning, not many are awake except the servants who are getting the house ready. Your deep red wedding lengha is draped over your bed and seems to be mocking you. Your fingers linger on the intricate embroidery of the deep red lehenga, but the touch brings you no joy, only a sense of resignation. As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, the naath adorning your face, you can't help but feel a sense of disconnect. The woman staring back at you seems like a stranger, a mere shell of the person you once were. The weight of the impending marriage hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you with its inevitability. It’s suffocating, and overwhelming, and you find it hard to breathe.

But then, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a sense of determination takes root within you. You refuse to let fear dictate your future, to surrender to the expectations of others. You may not know what lies ahead, but you know one thing for certain—you can't go through with this marriage. Your father may love you and only want the best for you but you are not a pawn in his plan to rule the world.

Gathering your courage, you make a decision—to follow your heart, no matter the consequences. It won't be easy, and there will be challenges ahead, but you refuse to let fear hold you back any longer.

As you slip out of your room after grabbing your yellow dupatta, the quiet of the early morning enveloping you like a comforting embrace, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you. It’s just as you make it past the hall, your anklets unfortunately still jingling with each step(you probably should have taken them off), you come face to face with Manjiro, Sanzu and Rindo. “Hm? And where do you think you’re going?” Manjiro asks and his hand comes up and lifts the naath up then lets it fall back in place resting over your upper lip

You freeze, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. For a moment, you're at a loss for words, your mind racing to come up with an explanation. But as you meet Manjiro's gaze, you see something in his eyes—a flicker of understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil raging within you. "I..." you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I don’t want to get married"

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of your confession. You expect judgment, condemnation, but instead, there's only silence. Manjiro's gaze softens, a hint of something tender in his eyes as he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Hm?”

You let out a shaky breath, henna-covered hands clenching at your sides. “You asked me last night what I wanted and this is what I want…”

There is a moment of silence. Manjiro looks back at Sanzu and nods and the latter pulls out his phone, frantically typing away texts. “C’mon then” Manjiro says and sweeps you off your feet in the same way the male leads in Bollywood movies would

You aren’t sure how things will turn out but as Manjiro carries you down the marble staircase and into a car, you don’t think about anything else. Just him. Manjiro’s arms feel solid and reassuring around you as he carries you down the marble staircase, the weight of your decision becoming lighter with each step. The early morning light filters through the windows, casting a golden hue over everything, as if the world itself is blessing your choice.

As he sets you down into the backseat of a car Manjiro brushes a strand of your hair away from your face then kisses your forehead. “I’m here” he whispers

end notes: at the end, when Sanzu is on his phone, he's texting Koko to post a bunch of evidence of corruption that reader's fiancé’s family has done. Now MIkey could have done that before but he wanted it to be reader's choice so.... yeah. Hope you enjoyed it loll.

#tokyo revengers #mikey sano #mikey x reader #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers fandom #tokyo revengers x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #kanto manji gang #tokyo revengers angst #bonten #bonten!mikey #bonten mikey #bonten x reader

142 notes · View notes

kisses4tom · 14 days

Note

PT 2 OF TOM AS A DAD PLSSS

ᡣ𐭩 DAD TOM part 2!

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HEYY OFCC 🤭 SO MANY PPL ARE REQUESTING THIS ACTUALLY!! 😭 here is part 1

To be quite honest with you guys, I don't really know what else to add 😭, but I'll figure it out and make something up along the way! 💕

I hope it lives up to your expectations because, I will not lie, I ran out of ideas for a few of them 😭 yet I hope you like it either way! 🫶🏻

I also mixed various topics and scenarios for a little more inclusivity! especially because I made a lot of these hcs for a teen daughter

Obviously Tom is gonna be a girl dad 'cause what else would he beeeee 🤭🥹

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he would keep almost every drawing she's made throughout the years

HE WOULD LEND HER HIS YELLOW DOG PLUSHIE‼️‼️

when she's older he would love to get matching tattoos if she wants, but he's definitely getting one dedicated to her (did y'all know Bill and Tom have a matching tattoo with Leni? 👀)

definitely making her a photo album

if anybody says that the baby looks more like him than her mother he would act so proud istg

"Yeah, Y/n's genes said BYE!"

he would become her personal Instagram photographer

whenever his daughter brings a boy home he would be so sus of him and maybe even tell them to keep the door open 💀

DAD REFLEXES 🤭🤭‼️ so hot istg

he would get dragged into tiktoks and learn some dances together 😭

when the baby was younger, her mama would surprise Tom with matching fits and he would be sooo gitty and happy

always keeping an eye out for her in public

if he's talking to some people and he hears the smallest noise coming from his daughter, he would immidiately put everything on pause and make sure she's okay (if that makes sense idk) or he would turn to look at her

he would try to attend as many school/dance recitals as possible, but with work it's a little hard for him to find time (at times)

is she plays a sport he would cheer the loudest for her

if she ever comes out as an lgbtq+ member, he would be very supportive and just act casual after her confession

when the baby was just born and he had skin-to-skin contact with her for the first time, he got emotional

he would wake up in the middle of the night and feed her himself so you could rest (currently in between tears)

the band is OBSESSED with that child and always play with her whenever they have a chance

Tom knows he can rely on them as babysitters

why do I feel like him and Bill would FIGHT to choose who holds her

"Tom you always have her come onnn let me have her this timeee"

he's so protective of that child

when she first started walking he’d kneel down and open his arms towards her

he would also scoot back so she could walk more and then let her fall in his arms (imagine him picking her up and kissing her cheek after 😭)

istg he would bring that child everywhere (especially when she's older)

he would make sure to dedicate her an episode/scene on Kaulitz & Kaulitz where he talks about fatherhood and his story

he's veeery supportive of everything she does

whenever he's live on Instagram or TikTok with the band he would call his daughter over and prank her with filters or something like that

he loves dressing her up, but hates changing her diaper

he usually doesn't enjoy shopping, but he would bring her everywhere and spend time together

he's such a quality time dad

when texting, he would send pictures of his honest reaction LMFAO😭

he would make sure his and Gustav's daughter are like little cousins (spoiler alert: they are)

his daughter will grow up with "do you need a stepmom by any chance?" questions 😻

if Tom and the baby's mom broke up, co-parenting would be pretty hard on him, as he loves that child so much it hurts him to know he can't see her for some time

he would probably bring her to some meet and greets with fans (both now and back in the day)

fans would give him so many gifts for her

sometimes he gets emotional knowing she won't stay a baby forever, but he's still very excited to know her character and mess with her more

when she was a baby, at the beach he would dip her feet in the water

when she's older he would splash the hell out of her and push her in the water

if you have more ideas leave them in the comments so I can add them! 🤭

48 notes · View notes

humanpurposes · 1 year

Text

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part iv, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // For fear that you'll find out, how I'm imagining you

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, smut, cursed dinner party, toxic family dynamics, Targaryen men being the worst

Words: 5700

A/n: Also available to read on AO3. And I made a Series Playlist :)

Over the last two months, finishing her thesis, taking exams, sending off masters applications and keeping track of a boyfriend has left little room in her mind for Aemond Targaryen.

For the last month or so she’s hardly even seen him. On the weekdays she gets up early and spends all day in the library. On the weekends she goes to Cregan’s place in central. He goes to the gym with Jace on Saturday morning and on Sundays he usually has a rugby match. Between that they watch movies in his room, go for drinks with his friends and sometimes she drags him around her favourite museums.

The sex is good. For a bulky guy with a nose piercing and sleeve tattoos of wolves and weirwood trees, Cregan is surprisingly gentle. He makes her cum on his tongue, then he leans over to fuck her with his hands pressed into the mattress, looking between her eyes and the space where their bodies meet. He doesn’t say much, a few strained “oh Gods” and a grunted “fuck” when he comes. When they’re done he falls into the bed beside her, throwing an arm around her while he rambles about whatever happens to be on his mind, exams, internships, summer plans…

She’s happy to rest her head against him, listening to the humming of his chest as he speaks, letting it lull her as she slips into her own mind. Sometimes she still feels a little empty when it’s over and doesn’t have the energy to go for another round. She puts it down to stress. Or hormones. Or something.

Now, being on the other side of everything she realises time is passing too quickly for her liking.

Joan Jett blasts through the car speakers while Alys and Cregan go on about the season finale of some drama series she’s not kept up with.

Alys loves Cregan. Everyone loves Cregan because he’s a people person. He speaks to everyone he meets like they’re already lifelong friends and he has a remarkable talent for finding common interests. If she were cynical she would say he’s palatable.

The weather has been perfect so far, bright and sunny but with enough of a breeze that the heat isn’t unbearable. Ideal for the graduation ceremony.

She looks through the recent photos in her phone. She took a few nice ones of the Sept, the nave lined with columns and towering statues of the Seven watching over the cohort of students in red and black robes. She keeps swiping through photos of her and some of her classmates on the front steps tossing their hats in the air, a few of her and Joanna, one of her and Cregan, and one of her and Alys.

Sometimes she thinks she looks nothing like her mother, but when they smile they look strikingly similar.

Everything had paid off in the end, the study dates with Joanna, the all-nighters, the last minute breakdowns crying over the kitchen counter with Alys. But she’s proud that she did it all on her own. Especially given how helpful Aemond had been last year. Just thinking about it makes her heart sink.

He’d been living with them for a few months by then. They were comfortable with each other, existing in the same spaces, eating dinner and watching movies together when Alys was out or working late.

Sometimes he’d put his arm around the back of the sofa, letting her lean into him while they watched 90s thrillers, leaning into her every so often to make a joke or a profound observation. They could analyse movies forever, staying up late until their eyes were tired, leaning in closer and closer and never really realising it.

And then when exams came around, the stress just got to her. “It’s half the suffering,” Alys insisted, “you’re not doing yourself any favours, so don’t do it.” Easier said than done.

There was one particular module on Conflicts in the Modern Era that was chipping away at her sanity. It was her last exam of the year and every time she went over her notes she just felt hopeless.

Aemond offered to help her study. He had loads of notes and old assignments on his laptop from his undergrad and his masters. They spent hours in the dining room, going over readings and practice questions.

He would sit next to her, leaning over every so often to read through what she was working on. Every hand on her shoulder, every reassuring “hmm,” or utterance of “good girl,” when she got something right sent shivers down her spine.

She knew it was wrong, but she didn’t exactly want it to stop.

The exam ended up going a lot better than she anticipated. She opened the paper and instantly saw that, by some miracle, there were a few questions similar to the ones she had done with Aemond.

She came home ecstatic. Alys was at work but Aemond was home, loitering in the kitchen. She practically leapt into his arms when she saw him, telling him every detail she could think of with a huge smile on her face.

Aemond’s hands settled on her waist. He leaned into her until all she could see were his bright, blue eyes. “I’m so proud of you baby,” he said in a voice that made her breathless.

He leaned in further until his lips were on hers, soft and warm, kissing her tentatively. She thought it might be over quickly, until she reached up, teasing her fingertips over the nape of his neck while his grip on her waist tightened, pulling her closer, kissing her deeper.

When they pulled away, both a little breathless, he rested his forehead against her and smiled. She smiled back.

But she snaps out of that trance when she realises they’re pulling into the driveway.

She looks across at Alys for a moment, laughing at something Cregan just said.

Her chest feels like it might crush under the weight of it all, but time presses on and things seem to be moving forward for the better. She’s happy with Cregan. Who wouldn’t be? He’s funny, smart, maybe a little over confident at times but she can forgive that. And she’s got the whole summer before she starts her masters. With Cregan in the picture she figured she might as well stay at KLU. He’s been trying to convince her to move in the flat with him. There’s no reason not to, it’s close to campus, his flatmates are nice and they seem to keep the place clean. She keeps saying she’ll think about it.

He reaches for her hand as Alys leads them through the front door.

The house looks immaculate and it fills her with dread.

Alys has decided to use her graduation as an opportunity to host a family dinner. Maybe she’s intending it to be a grand offering of peace, maybe she just wants to show off, or maybe she’s just lost her mind because putting two halves of a warring family in the same room seems like a disaster waiting to happen. Not to mention she’ll have to introduce everyone to Cregan.

The dreamy rhythm of a Mazzy Star song drifts from the kitchen. Aemond is leaning over the counter, in a black shirt with his sleeves rolled up, prepping a rack of lamb. She tries not to look at his hands as he takes pinches of salt, pepper and spices between his fingers.

Alys heads straight for the vodka, offering a round of martinis before the dreaded guests arrive.

She and Cregan both decline politely, and when Alys turns to Aemond he purses his lips. “I don’t drink vodka martinis.”

Alys rolls her eyes. “Thinks he’s so sophisticated,” she says to Cregan.

Cregan chuckles and plants a light kiss to her cheek, muttering about taking a shower and disappears down the hall.

Her eyes meet Aemond’s for a moment. He smiles sincerely. He’s playing one of her favourite songs.

She tells her mother she’s going to get dressed, and feels Aemond’s eyes following her as she heads upstairs.

When she gets to her room she puts her graduation robes on a hanger and lies on the bed in the black slip dress she wore underneath. Something’s pressing awkwardly into her back, Cregan’s jeans and t-shirt. She tosses them across the room and falls back against the mattress, staring at the ceiling and listening to the hum of the shower.

Is it unfair to hate someone for listening to a song? Did he remember it was her favourite or was it a lucky guess? Maybe he was trying to tease her, or else it could have just been a coincidence, but that doesn’t seem like him. Aemond rarely does anything accidentally.

Cregan saunters in with a towel around his hips. He looks down at his clothes on the floor in front of the door. “Not where I left them,” he mutters.

She pretends not to hear him.

He gets dressed quickly, all he has to do is put on his jeans and clean white shirt.

“How many people are coming tonight?” He asks, spraying some perfume on his pulse points.

She keeps her eyes on the ceiling. “Viserys, Alicent, Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jace, Baela, Aegon and Helaena.” Luke and Rhaena were going to stay home with Joffrey, and Daeron would still be in Sunspear until the end of the month. Just as well, there would already be too many people to keep track of.

“I hear some of the family stuff from Jace,” Cregan says, “sounds like a mess.”

She hums to herself. “Oh, you have no idea.”

She takes her hair out of its low bun and fixes it into a more casual look, leaving it mostly loose but out of her face. Her makeup has managed to survive the day pretty well. She touches up her blush and wipes away her lipstick, applying a sweet tasting cherry lipbalm instead.

When they reappear in the kitchen Alys is nowhere to be found but Aegon and Helaena have already arrived.

Aegon and Cregan pair up nicely, swigging bottles of beer while Aemond pours out three gin and tonics.

She compliments Helaena’s patterned skirt and red boots. In return she admires her dress. “You two are matching,” she says, as Aemond hands them both their drinks.

He raises his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth are tight. “Happy coincidence.”

“Black’s not exactly a fashion statement,” she adds, taking a sip.

Aemond hums in agreement.

She takes a breath to relieve the tension in her shoulders. “How are you doing?” She asks Helaena, “didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you at the wedding.”

Helaena’s doing a PhD in Etymology at Highgarden, between that and her various art projects she seems happy, but something’s off. She’s never exactly been outgoing but she seems particularly timid, wide eyes darting constantly to Aemond and Aegon. She’s nervous, but in all fairness they all are. Or they should be.

While Helaena goes on about species of butterflies, she finds her attention almost completely on Aemond, his hand gripping his glass in the corner of her eye, the sound of his breath, those well timed hums and the smell of his aftershave. She takes another sip of her drink to steady her nerves, hoping neither of them notice her hand trembling as she brings the glass to her lips.

Eventually Alys waltzes in with Rhaenyra, Daemon, Baela and Jace following behind her. That seems like a good opportunity to escape. She goes to hug Jace and Baela, and follows them when they go to stand with Aegon and Cregan.

The tension is palpable, Alys having a stiff conversation with Rhaenyra, Daemon lurking at the edge of the room with a glass of whisky, and Jace stealing glances over her shoulder, at Aemond and Helaena.

She catches whispers of their conversation but nothing tangible.

“What’s your problem?” Baela hisses to Jace.

He tuts. “He’s staring daggers at me, fuck’s sake.”

Aegon’s lips thin. He excuses himself curtly and joins his siblings by the glass doors to the garden.

Their little group falls to an uneasy silence.

“Well done, dickhead,” Baela says, rolling her eyes.

Cregan gives her a confused look. She puts her hand on his shoulder and comes onto her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “I’ll show you the powerpoint presentation later.”

Somehow the mood only gets colder when Viserys and Alicent walk through the door. It’s almost pitiful, watching Rhaenyra and Daemon trying to win his attention while Alicent keeps her hand on her husband’s shoulder, muttering into his ear whenever she can.

Not speaking to Aemond has meant she’s mostly been out of the loop, but she can guess they’ve not moved past the dispute over Viserys’ will.

Helaena and Aegon both go to greet their parents. It’s cordial at best, light hugs and pecks on the cheek, and Viserys shakes Aegon’s hand like this is the first time they’ve met. Aemond doesn’t go near them.

The lack of warmth is only more noticeable when Viserys greets Jace and Baela with open arms and a pleasant smile. He hugs her too, congratulating her— after all that is why they’re here— and shakes Cregan’s hand firmly.

She catches Aegon’s eye over his father’s shoulder. He frowns, almost comically and goes to find another bottle of beer.

Before long Alys ushers them all into the dining room.

Alys and Viserys sit at the two heads of the table and the others fill in around them. When they see Alicent has taken the seat to Viserys’ right, Rhaenyra and Daemon move to the other end of the table. Helaena sits next to her dad and they both smile vaguely. Aemond, rather diplomatically, takes a central seat between Aegon and Rhaenyra.

In an attempt to avoid sitting across from either of his uncles, Jace settles next to Alys, and once Cregan sits next to him, the only free seat is directly opposite Aemond. She sits down without a fuss.

Once everyone is a bit more settled, Aemond and Alys go back to the kitchen to bring in small plates of salad and seared tuna.

It starts off with smalltalk. Cregan and Jace are muttering to each other on her left, while Baela and Helaena have a friendly catch up to her right, leaving her to prod at her starter, waiting for an appetite to appear.

She doesn’t dare to look up past the space in front of her plate, or the pair of eyes she can feel burning into her.

Once they’re finished, the plates are whisked away and Aemond presents them with lamb chops, fondant potatoes and summer greens, while Alys pours out glasses of red wine.

Viserys’ knife scratches against his plate as he carves into the meat. “Really excellent lamb, Alys.”

“Aemond did the food,” she says.

He pauses, looks down at his plate and carries on eating.

She hears Jace whispering something into Cregan’s ear and they both grunt in amusement.

“Something funny?” Aegon asks sharply, reaching for his glass.

She finally looks across the table. Aegon’s face is a dangerous mix of anger and anticipation.

“Just admiring Aemond’s culinary skills,” Jace muses, spearing a cut of lamb on his fork, “didn’t realise he’d gone domestic.”

“Jacaerys,” Rhaenyra hisses.

Aegon huffs but keeps his mouth shut with a stern look from Aemond.

Viserys’ attention suddenly latches onto his grandson. The rest of the table falls quiet while he asks Jace about his exam results. 65 average. Just a few marks off a first.

Aegon nudges his brother but Aemond doesn’t react.

Their father seems to notice. “Jacaerys is shadowing me for the summer,” he says pointedly.

Aegon finishes off his glass and immediately refills it.

“Not coming to Dragonstone, then?” Helaena pipes up in a brighter tone, leaning to look at Jace.

The ancestral home of the Targaryen family, a beautiful estate along the coast outside the city. It’s more of a castle than a house really, passed down the generations over centuries. They use it as a holiday home now.

She went with the Strongs one summer. Ten weeks of beach trips, reading by the pool and fresh seafood for dinner every evening. It was the first time she really remembers meeting the Targaryen siblings. Aemond seemed so quiet then, always with his nose in a book. It feels like a lifetime ago now.

Cregan’s voice in her ear takes her by surprise. “You alright?” He asks, stroking his hand along the silky black fabric on her thigh. “You looked a bit lost there for a moment.”

She can see Aemond looking at her in the corner of her eye. “I’m fine,” she says, pushing Cregan’s hand away.

“We’re just a little busy at the moment,” Rhaenyra says, “work is… hectic.”

Alicent visibly bristles.

“Might make it down for a few weeks, if the boss lets me off,” Jace says.

“I’m excited to have you,” Viserys says, “good to get him used to the order of things nice and early.”

“Yeah, amazing what you can do when you have everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter,” Aegon says, casually taking a long draw from his glass.

Alicent and Rhaenyra look horrified. Daemon and Viserys are both clenching their fists.

“He says as if Otto Hightower didn’t have to buy him a place at KLU,” Jace retorts.

Aegon shrugs. “So what if he did? Got the degree, didn’t I?”

“And what have you done with it?” Viserys says in a scathing voice, “bought a flat with my money. Drank and screwed your way through life with no concern for your career or your family.”

Aegon tuts. “The fuck does that mean, family?”

“Leave it,” Aemond mutters and the table settles into an uncomfortable quiet.

“At least Jace has some direction,” Viserys says, breaking the silence. For a moment his eyes dart to his wife.

Alicent’s brown eyes are wide and glassy. “And my children don’t?”

She watches Aemond’s lips flicker into a sneer before he composes himself and goes back to staring vacantly at his untouched glass.

“That’s not what I meant, love–”

Daemon chuckles quietly. “And yet…”

Alicent slams her knife against the table with a jarring clatter. “Maybe they would have amounted to something more if you had shown even the slightest bit of interest in your own children!”

A chair scrapes against the floor and Helaena’s silver hair billows behind her as she leaves the dining room.

Baela grabs her wrist and pulls her to stand. “Excuse us,” she says sweetly. Not that anyone will hear her over the shouting match brewing between Alicent and Daemon.

They find Helaena in the lounge, on the sofa, picking at her nails.

“Hey,” Baela whispers, coming to hold her hands so she stops.

Helaena looks up at them with glistening blue eyes and a trembling lip. It’s the first time she’s really seen the resemblance between her and Alicent.

Raised voices echo from down the hall. By the sounds of things Aegon and Viserys have joined in too.

Helaena releases her hands from Baela’s and presses her palms to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” she says, taking a few shallow gasps. “I just don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Baela hums in agreement.

Tears start to trickle from her eyes. “I used to love hanging out with you and Jace and everyone. I don’t understand… what did we do wrong?”

She isn’t sure what to do. She feels so helpless just watching Helaena as she starts to cry. Baela sits next to her and puts her arm around her shoulders.

And while the arguing persists, Helaena eventually starts to calm down a little, wiping her tears on her sleeve and leaning into Baela. “We missed dessert,” she sighs.

“We have ice-cream in the freezer,” she says, “strawberry or vanilla?”

And just like that her face lights up. “Both.”

“Noted. Baela?”

Baela smiles sympathetically. “Strawberry please.”

She catches fragments of the insults being thrown around the dining room as she walks past. “Hightower leech”, “spoiled cunt”.

She sees a figure in a black shirt through the frosted glass door to the kitchen. She holds her breath as she opens the door.

Aemond is leaning over the counter, fiddling with a packet of cigarettes. He looks up as soon as he hears the door. She lets it close behind her and leans against it.

He stares at her with a tight jaw, a sad little pout on his lips and a slight scrunch in his nose. Despite everything she can’t help but feel sorry for him.

She tuts to herself and goes to place two bowls and two spoons on the counter, avoiding Aemond’s gaze.

Not my problem.

She goes towards the freezer and hears Aemond sigh heavily behind her. She hovers her hand over the handle.

Not my problem. Not my problem. Not my problem.

“Is it stupid of me to ask if you’re alright?” She asks, turning to fave him.

One of his wide plams is pressed against the counter, his legs crossed casually at the ankle. “No.”

“And are you alright?”

His nostrils flare as he takes a slow breath. “I told her this would be a bad idea,” he says, tapping the box against the counter. “But what do I know, it’s only my fucking family.”

The way the light shines on his face makes the scar over his left eye seem like a shadow. She’s never asked about the details of what happened, but then he doesn’t like to talk about it.

Two months ago she would have held his hand or pulled him into her arms when he was this anxious.

But things have changed now.

“Aemond, I–”

“Babe?”

She whips her head round to see Cregan and Jace standing in the doorway. Guilt twinges in her chest and she doesn’t know why. A conversation is nothing to be ashamed of, surely? She hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Baela and Helaena are in the lounge, right?” Cregan asks.

“Yeah,” she says, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

They both glare at Aemond before they leave. When she turns to face him, he’s looking back with a cold indifference.

“He seems nice,” Aemond says once they're gone. “Palatable.”

She starts to drag her teeth over her bottom lip but stops herself. Aemond’s eyes are so intense, glaring from across the room with a dangerous look of fury and sadness. That’s exactly how he looked at her, the night of the wedding, when they were in her hotel room. When he asked her about Cregan then she liked how it made him jealous.

Her blood starts to simmer, a feeling that cuts deeper and hurts more than hate. “Is this it then?” She says.

His brows scrunch into a frown, but his wide eyes seem more bewildered than anything. “What do you mean?”

It’s like a switch clicks in her brain and something in her heart dies. These last few weeks, even with things going so well with Cregan, she’s carried Aemond with her, hoping that one day she’d wake up and things would have worked out differently. It’s what she’s been doing for the last year anyway, she just never managed to break the habit.

It has to end somewhere, the lying, the guilt, and the naivety that she meant something more to him than a pretty face and a convenient fuck.

She needs to let go and she’s known that for a long time.

“Forget it. You’ve made your side of things clear,” she says, her voice starting to tremble. “This was never going to end well and I should have thought about that before I led myself on.”

She takes a step towards the door but he’s in front of her, keeping her between the freezer and the counter.

“Do you love him?” Aemond mutters, quickly and quietly.

She can feel her heart beating in her throat.

“Do I… what?”

He takes advantage of her hesitation. His hand clamps around her wrist as he moves to the door. It takes a few moments to realise he’s dragging her with him.

The door to the lounge is shut. She hears Cregan’s booming laugh on the other side as Aemond leads her further along the hallway.

And suddenly they’re in the downstairs bathroom. She stands in front of the sink, staring at her own reflection as the lock clicks.

She watches Aemond in the mirror. The room is small and narrow, even when he’s standing by the door he’s close. Then he starts to close the distance between them with slow, taunting steps until he’s standing over her.

She can feel him and smell his aftershave, the bitterness of gin and the sweetness of red wine.

There’s that dark look in his eye again, determined, and hungry.

“Did you really think I’d let you keep up this pathetic little act?” He murmurs, eyes fixed on hers through the glass.

“What act?”

She lets out a little gasp when he places a hand on her hip and pushes his hips against her, grinding a growing hardness against her so subtly he might not be moving at all.

He leans into her but no part of him makes contact with her skin. She shudders at the heat of his breath running over her ear, neck and shoulders. “I said you were needy, didn’t I?”

Her shoulders flinch when a single fingertip touches the nape of her neck. He draws it gradually along her spine as she desperately resists the urge to cry out at the tingling sensation it brings, arching against him because her body has nowhere else to go.

“And so sensitive,” he says and stops just as he reaches her lower back. “It was all for me, wasn’t it? The crop tops, the staring, even Stark, you just wanted a reaction.”

She’s always been a good liar but when she opens her mouth to reply she finds she just can’t do it. She doesn’t want to, not when he places his hand on her side and traces over the curves of her waist, her hips, the pouch of her stomach and her thighs. It’s been so long since they’ve been this close, and it’s not close enough.

“You stopped wanting me,” she breathes.

“Stupid little slut,” he says, leaning his chin over her shoulder. He starts dragging both hands down her thighs, taking the hem of her dress with him as he moves back up. “How could I ever stop wanting you?” His voice is harsh and hypnotic all at once. Cold and unforgiving. It sets her skin alight and leaves her wanting more.

But it doesn’t make sense. He was the one who left the hotel room.

“I don’t understand… this isn’t fair.”

“But you and I both know you don’t like to play fair,” he rasps, tracing circles over the tops of her thighs, occasionally brushing over the hem of her panties.“I just know these last couple of months have been fucking unbearable without you.”

She bites down on her lip to stop herself whimpering at his touch.

He groans as his head falls against her neck, hands still pawing at her legs and the dress hitched around her waist. “Let me fuck you,” he utters in that low voice that means it’s taking every ounce of effort to hold himself back. “I know what you need. Just be a good girl and let me fuck you.”

Anticipation floods her body. She can feel her self-control slipping. She can’t think straight, can’t think past him or a world beyond this moment.

She wants it too much to feel guilty, for now at least.

“Please,” she utters.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me.”

Suddenly his soft touches are gone and he yanks her panties down to her knees. One hand slides between her legs, prying them open enough so he can circle her clit with the pads of his fingers. The other snakes up her body and takes a gentle hold of her throat.

He finally brings his lips to her cheek. They graze over her skin as he mutters, “you said something to me, that night. What was it?”

She scoffs. “You’re such a cunt.” She can hear how weak her voice is as she says it.

“Mouth on you, baby,” he coos, “come on, I know you remember.”

She shakes her head fervently, hoping she can focus on the movements of his fingers, the pleasure building and building inside her.

“I want to hear you say it, baby.”

She lets herself melt against him, clinging desperately on his arms, breathless but defiant as she meets his eyes in the mirror.

With a short huff he withdraws his hand, but keeps her against him by her neck. He easily undoes the buckle on his belt, bringing his trousers down just enough to free his cock.

She bucks her hips on instinct as he slides the tip through her folds, gathering her wetness, and smiling when he realises responsive she is to him.

“Have you always been this restless? Or have you just missed me?”

Her head hangs slightly as he teases between her entrance and her clit. She can feel how thick his cock is, how hard he is and she already knows it’s going to make her feel so fucking good.

The grip on her neck becomes firmer, demanding her attention back to the mirror. He holds her gaze as he slides into her tight, slick cunt.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, “look at how well you take that.”

He’s right. The sight of her pleading face and parted lips as he holds her and pushes deeper inside of her only adds to her arousal.

He fucks her slowly, precisely, placing a hand on her stomach and pressing into her while the impact of his thrusts are muffled by fabric.

“Can you feel that?” He whispers, “can you feel how tight you are? Can you feel how deep that is?”

“Ah— fuck, yes…” she chokes, savouring the burn and the stretch of his cock as he drags through her walls and hits her sweet spot. When his fingers come back to circle her clit it all becomes so light and perfect and deliciously overwhelming.

“I knew you still wanted me,” he pants between the gentle kisses to her cheek. “Say it.”

“No,” she manages to whimper.

“Say it.”

Her orgasm comes as a sudden burst of warmth and Aemond isn’t far behind, suppressing a grunt as his hips still and his cock throbs inside her.

A few moments pass and he turns her head towards him, keeping his eyes on her lips. He leans in to kiss her and she twists her head to the other side.

“Fucking brat.”

Suddenly he brings her to face him fully, effortlessly lifting her by her thighs to rest her against the edge of the sink.

There’s no teasing this time, no pretence, just need. He pushes himself into her in one cruel snap of his hips.

He’s too impatient to give her time to adjust before he starts to fuck her, fiercely and without mercy, hands digging into the flesh of her rear, pulling her in over and over again. He brings his forehead against hers, glaring into her eyes like he hates her.

But like this she can wrap her arms around his neck, hold him even closer and lose herself in just him.

“All you need to remember is you’re mine. You’re fucking mine and you know it.”

Tears well in her eyes and she can only take what he gives her. “Fuck… Aemond...”

Her climax builds until it’s almost excruciating, and then it tears through her, a release unlike anything she’s known for months. She keeps her arms tight around him, burying her face into his neck as her thighs shake and her whole body tenses and trembles.

Aemond doesn’t stop, fucking her through it until she’s writhing with the overstimulation.

“Too much,” she whines, “fuck it’s too much!”

He clasps a hand over her mouth to muffle her protest, dangerously echoing on the tiled walls and floors. He comes again, gnawing at his lip to keep himself quiet and spilling deep inside her as tears stream from her cheeks.

He admires the mess they’ve made as he pulls out, her cream on his cock and his cum leaking from her quivering cunt. His eyes flicker back to her face, his expression softening and his lips curling into a half smile.

Dazed and still desperate she leans into him, but her lips barely get to graze his before he pulls away.

“Oh now you want to kiss me?”

She frowns, which only seems to amuse him.

By the way he grabs her jaw she doesn’t need to be told what to do. She offers him her tongue and swallows when he spits into her mouth.

A satisfied groan rumbles in his chest and her belly flutters in anticipation, as if he hasn’t just made her come twice, as if she can’t feel his spend starting to drip down her thighs.

He slips her off the sink and kneels down to pull her panties up her legs. Then he fixes her skirt, smoothing down the fabric with his palms.

“You’re going to be civil,” he murmurs, one of his hands coming to fix her hair. “You’re going to go back out there, kiss your boyfriend on the cheek, but I want you to think about me. Think about how good I make you feel. Do you understand?”

She nods.

“Words, baby,” he says as his hand comes to cup her jaw, stroking his thumb over her flushed cheek.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“That’s my good girl,” he says softly, leaning in to plant an almost chaste kiss to her lips.

She tries for more but he steps away, eyes roaming over her to make sure she’s presentable.

With a vague “hmm,” he carefully unlocks the door and slowly steps out. He shoots her a quick wink before he closes the door, his footsteps fading down the hallway back towards the kitchen.

Her legs almost give out underneath her and she clutches the sink to keep herself standing.

That certainly wasn’t how she was expecting this evening to go.

She’s not sure how she’s supposed to show her face and go about pretending like nothing’s happened in front of their families. Maybe she’ll rediscover her ability to lie, kiss Cregan on the cheek and play the part of the sweet girlfriend, but what kind of person will that make her?

She looks at her reflection, at the glimmer of blissful tears and sweat on her face.

A familiar laugh drifts down the hall.

How is she ever going to look her mother in the eye again?

General Taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy

Series Taglist: @marthawrites @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlran @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @lost-and-founds @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @pet1t3

#my fics #aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern au #house of the dragon fanfiction #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

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girlinwoods · 9 months

Text

{ Him }

• dark minded jungkook x sensitive reader• ( non con)

....I am a working independent women but not that much.. just okay - okay ....and you know parents ..as well as how this society is they say a women always need a men in order to be happy...

" mom really ?? How many Times do I have to say this i don't wanna get married! Don't you understand?"

" y/n ..at least meet him he's so rich and handsome you surely gonna like him " my mom said in excitement..

" no means no...mom!" i said

" y/n please understand our condition too we are poor we don't have anything besides your salary and you also know that shity ass store manager gonna remove you any time he gets a better worker then you "

" mom...but-"

" i don't wanna hear anything it's final and it's your choice if you like it or not just get ready.. they're coming for dinner and i am warning you already baby be on your best behaviour okay... "

I didn't said anything because I can't believe her ....my life is full of shit i just went in my room and started crying...and fell asleep at 5: 40 pm... I came down wearing a red top and a plain long white skirt and ..my mother looked at me as she smiles

" they gonna be here in minutes"

And after 15 minutes our door bell rang so i went in the kitchen and my...mother went to answer the door I heard them talking... specially when my mother said..

" sure .... y/n baby come here"

I entered... in living room and saw a old couple so I greeted them then I saw a men who's seems to be in his late twenties not gonna lie he was handsome and his whole arm was covered with tattoos....ear piercing and eye brow piercing his whole appearance was screaming dominant or power....

" y/n baby...sit down"...

I sat beside my mother

" your daughter is so beautiful... Mrs Kim..and y/n he's jungkook "

And jungkook suddenly looked up at me from his phone our eyes matched...but...i..i don't... know....if I feel love or fear...he was just staring at me ..and then Mrs Jeon said

" from our side it's a yes Mrs Kim because we liked your daughter alot and my son needs someone like her innocent.... And fragile...."

Wth fragile? is that a compliment huh and they just saw me ..and said yes I didn't even get to put my point....but he was staring at me... up and down mostly on chest...and i didn't liked that and he wishper something to his dad and Mr Jeon said

" i think it will be better if they can talk in .. alone...and get some understanding "

Understanding? No no ..

" sure .. y/n go show him your room ..." My father said

But I didn't move... and jungkook stand-up from his place and grabs my hand i yanked my hand from his grip and went in my room as he came with ....me ....it was silent....he didn't said anything but steps closer towards me

" you were mine from the day you born... princess and what you think....you can show me your attitude and you will get away with it baby..."

" i-..what?..." He didn't answer....my question but pushed me towards the wall and gripped on my....vigina through the clothes....i... screamed in pain....

" ahh...i-its hurts please" i cried on his tight grip

But he was staring at me blankly

" this cunt ...is mine"

Then gripped on my hair

" this all is mine....." And he pushed me on the floor as he started removing his pants

" please no please!!! Leave me !!" I was begging him but he didn't listen me and started jerking off then he grabbed my hair again as I screamed in pain he pushed his dick inside my mouth and started mouth fucking me ... after 20 minutes he cums ...in my mouth and he pushed me on the bed ...and went down on his knees and started eating me out i couldn't help but close my eyes and after few more minutes when he was satisfied he stands up from his place

" gonna breed you....like the bitch you are and after that you have to say yes by yourself baby...."

And he started fucking....me... after half an hour...he stopped and looked at her who was crying mess but no one came to help her and she open her eyes

" i h-hate.... you so much"

" I am sure you do.....my darling but you can't do anything about it other than...to cry and have my babies " he smirked ....

" my dumb little lamb"

#dom!jungkook #yandere bts #bts imagines #darkjungkook #yandere jungkook

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chosos-mascara · 2 years

Text

a white christmas

𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - you and your daughter spend christmas with choso and yuji.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 - fluff, like super tooth rotting fluff, big bro!choso, single mother!reader, smut, spit k!nk, unprotected sex, creampie

minors + ageless dni! 3.2k words

Choso Kamo had lived in the neighboring apartment, along with his younger brother, Yuji. You'd seen the pair in passing a handful of times since moving in, the small pink haired boy meeting the gaze of your daughter, Aiya, a wide grin shared between the two children, a polite glance between their guardians. It had been the beginning of October when Yuji had finally spoken to your child in a soft tone, asking where she'd gotten the toy car she'd grasped firmly within her grip, the packaging within the bottom of your shopping bag.

"My mommy got it for me!" She'd exclaimed with a grin, pushing the small toy forward to wave within his face. Yuji's eyes had spread wide, a sparkle within them as he'd watched her spin the wheels along the wall between both apartment doors. When he'd smiled along with her, you'd noticed a gap between two teeth, most likely accompanied by a visit from the tooth-fairy. He'd been older than your child, around eight or nine while Aiya had been five, though despite her age, she'd acted with maturity. She'd been a handful, an overwhelmingly boisterous nature, confident in her ways and energetic, though her perceptiveness had aided you when you'd been lower, Aiya's comforting hugs always there to comfort you when you hadn't known you'd needed one.

"Mommy," Aiya turned to you once she'd finished flaunting the plastic car in Yuji's face. "Could Yuji play with us?" The innocent question had been accompanied by a pair of ample puppy-dog eyes, an expression she'd learned far too quickly would get her own way. You glanced to the small frame of Yuji, and finally, the black haired male stood beside him.

Truth be told, you'd had a crush on Choso. Black hair falling to kiss his shoulders, a tattoo across his face and nails painted to match the dark clothes he'd worn. He'd often looked tired, caring for a child of his own, and yet the expression he'd had was always filled with care, his attentive nature visible through his loving gaze. Sometimes, you'd recognize the music from bands you'd enjoyed blaring through the apartment walls, a gentle reminder of the male who'd resided only an apartment from your own.

As heat had radiated through your body at the thought of Choso in your apartment, you'd glanced to him, seeking guidance for the question our daughter had abruptly asked. "Is that okay?" You quizzed, feighning off the awkwardness you'd felt flowing through you as you'd spoken to him. He'd nodded, lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "Sure." Voice soft, he reached to pat Yuji on the shoulder, pushing him toward the apartment door you'd been stood before.

The four of you passed through your hall, Aiya leading the way. She'd skipped toward the contraction you'd known she'd wished to show off, a hot wheels track towering tall within the center of the lounge, a collection of cars parked at the base. The track had been something the pair of you had worked to build between you, partially made up from the authentic hot wheels kit, and then as it had gotten closer to the rug, cardboard making up the chute. It had started two foot above the coffee table, ending at the carpeted floor. Aiya climbed onto the table to teach the top, putting a car through the toilet-roll tube you'd taped to the top, allowing it to whiz down the track. Yuji gasped as the toy turned the corner, running closer to inspect each plate of plastic, the fast wheels of the car whirring.

"Do another car." Yuji shouted, picking up a blue car from the assortment neatly lined up on the rug, passing it to Aiya. She'd repeated the action, this car exhibiting less speed, though more agile. A giggle passed your lips as your daughter's excited gaze met your own, hand raising to beckon you forward and pick a car from the line-up. You glanced over the assortment, eventually landing upon the first car you'd bought her, one she'd cried over in the store when you'd asked if she'd been sure that's what she'd wanted. Of course, this was a mistake on your part - Aiya had adored cars with all of her being. You'd been unsure why, but fed into the small obsession anyway, allowing her to collect more over time, many evenings spent playing together.

Taking your place beside your daughter, you hadn't needed to stand on the furniture to reach the top, instead remaining with your feet on the carpet, arm outstretched. Your car had been slower than the others, and as it had been a little more dated, it had clattered along the track, hitting the lip and almost toppling off multiple times, though eventually making it to the bottom. Aiya clapped her hands together before looking hopefully toward the final person within the group, Choso.

"It's the man's turn!" She declared, small finger pointing in his direction. You couldn't help but laugh, her explosive personality evident within moments of meeting others as he'd let a deep chuckle through his chest. His smooth, honey-like laughter had caused your cheeks to heat up, though you'd suppressed the thought as you'd instead watched the interaction before you. Choso had picked the truck, standing the other side of the track beside his brother, towering above the construction in both height and broadness, large hand making the toy look considerably smaller than it had in Aiya's, or your own. The truck had barely fit within the toilet tube, but with his index finger he'd pushed it through With such a square and bulky design, the truck had crashed into the lip of the track on the first corner, flying off the plastic to instead hit the floor. Aiya broke out in laughter at the display, a smile wide on Choso's cheeks as he'd glanced to the fallen toy. Yuji giggled along too.

This had marked the beginning of Aiya and Yuji's friendship. Although the interactions had been sparse to begin with, you'd soon exchanged numbers with Choso, and from time to time you'd babysat for one another. Over the span of a few months, the four of you had grown closer, so when you'd woken on Christmas morning to a thick blanket of snow coating the streets below, you'd entertained the idea of asking Yuji to play. A quick text to Choso after Aiya had excitedly opened her gifts, and you'd been at their apartment door.

"Come on!" Aiya had exclaimed, moving her arms upward to ushered Yuji from the apartment, though the thickness of her coat and the jumper beneath had restricted movement, so instead of ushering him, she'd been left to awkwardly wave. He'd smiled, the half grown back tooth displayed clearly before he'd turned on his heel to grab his coat. "Come in, I'll get my jacket." Choso's voice was soft as he tucked his hair behind his ear, stepping forward to allow space. Aiya flew through the gap immediately, running to catch up with Yuji, while you'd slipped through at a much slower pace, stomach churning with anxiety when you'd stepped into his home, embraced by his scent when approaching his lounge.

Beside the lounge door, Aiya had been helplessly attempting to aid Yuji with zipping his jacket, the small metal of the zip unable to be grasped between the knitted mittens. You giggled at the display, walking over to take over, doing up the coat and pulling the hood over his pink hair. "Did you get anything nice this morning?" You questioned, glancing to the tree decorated beside the window in multicolored lights, mismatched baubles you'd assumed Yuji had placed himself. There had been a pile of wrapping paper, with a few presents littered around the room, cardboard packaging discarded nearby. Yuji had nodded, pointing to the couch which had housed a few toy cars, similar to Aiya's.

"Santa got me hot wheels!" Yuji had shrieked, to which Aiya had begun running toward the couch, inspecting the toys. He'd followed suit, showing his favourite to her adorning gaze, jumping up and down.

Choso stood in the doorway of the room, hair now sitting beneath a black beanie, his coat zipped to his chest, where the length of a scary had been displayed through the gap. He'd led the way, the kids between yourself and him as they'd skipped down the steps leading to the building's main door. When he'd opened it wide enough for all of you to step through, the freezing air had hit your face, but you'd ventured out into the snow nonetheless.

It had been ankle deep, Aiya screaming and grabbing fistfulls to throw at Yuji after traipsing into the community gardens. "Are you seeing family today?" You questioned Choso while the kids had ran circles around you, occasionally landing a hit on one another through breathlessly sprinting. "We don't really have any family." He'd replied, placing his hands into his coat pockets for warmth. "You?" Shaking your head at the question, you'd replied with a simple no, taking your eyes from Aiya to glance over his face.

Choso's skin was pale, the thick black tattoo setting over the middle of his face had contrasted in color, and within the cold winter, there had been a tinge of red setting over the tip of his nose. "You could-" He began, brown eyes meeting your own. "You could have dinner with us, if you'd like." His voice was low, stare fixed on your own as he'd awaited your response. You'd smiled wide, thinking for a moment before graciously nodding. Aiya and Yuji's screams escalated to a louder pitch as he'd caught up to her.

A small hand had suddenly met with your thigh as Aiya had attempted to protect herself from the large snowball flying from Yuji's hands. Mouth widening, you shrieked, the cold snow hitting your legs and coating the leggings you'd worn in a thin layer of water. Yuji's smile had contorted into a frown as he'd backed up, fear riddling his features as he'd waited to be scolded, though instead, he'd been met with a snowball. Gasping in shock, he looked at the melting white crystals across his jacket, and then to your empty hand. Shouting, he picked up more snow, tossing it your way, Aiya soon joining his side to make smaller, lopsided spheres.

"It's two against one!" You'd laughed, bringing your arms to block your face from the incoming attack. Through a gap in your arms, you'd watched a snowball fly in the opposite direction, much larger than the ones they'd created, crashing between them. Turning your head to the source, your eyes landed on Choso's gloved hand, freshly coated in snow. "Not anymore." Choso spoke, teeth displayed through a grin. The kids screamed, running to hide behind a bench as yourself and Choso had ran to them, snow in hand.

It had taken thirty minutes before the children began to complain they'd been too cold, and an hour before you'd returned to Choso's apartment, this time the scent of roasted vegetables mingling within your nose, tummy rumbling. While he'd plated up dinner, you'd entertained the children with a game of charades, and post-meal, the four of you had sat on the couch with full stomachs.

"I can't believe they lasted so long." Laughing, you'd watched Choso shuffle through the lounge to return with a bottle of wine, the red liquid filling glasses set out on the coffee table. He nodded, handing a drink to you before sinking into the couch. There had been a choir singing carols on the television before you, soft melody of voices accompanied by the warm tones of candle-light, and orange bulb within the aged lamp beside you.

"Do you have any other siblings?" You asked, taking a sip while keeping your gaze on the screen before you. Choso shifted beside you, wide stance causing his thigh to brush over yours. "We do, but family is a sensitive topic." His voice had been low as you'd nodded in agreement, attempting to offer solace with your own situation. "Yeah, that's... relatable." You sighed, flickering your gaze to him. He'd raised his hand, before uttering a few words in the form of a toast. "To shitty family?" Choso questioned, tilting his glass toward you. Laughing, you tapped yours to his, a gentle ting as both had collided.

Once each of you had taken a sip, attempting to focus on the television before you opposed to the pounding in your chests, Choso broke the silence. "You're a single mother?" He reached forward to place his glass on the table before you, then turning his body to face your own. "Yeah, her father was a piece of work - I left while pregnant." Choso wouldn't push you further, though raised a brow at the explanation, upset expression mirroring his internal monologue as he'd hoped the statement hadn't alluded toward anything traumatizing. "When Yuji was four, we left. Thankfully, our parents never filed a missing person's report or bothered to look for us; nicest thing they've ever done." His story had been a difficult one, too. "You're doing really well, you know?" Reassurance had been something you'd wished you'd gotten more of, working hard to create a stable environement to house the child you'd cared deeply for with little recognition had been tiring. "Raising a whole person is so hard, and Yuji is so kind-hearted."

Choso displayed a new expression, one you hadn't seen previously, and it had been difficult to read. His eyes shimmered under the amber light, lips curved upward and brows furrowing until he'd allowed a shaky breath to leave his lips, teeth protruding through his smile.

You leaned forward, placing your lips softly against his. He'd immediately kissed back, hand trailing along your arm until his fingers wrapped around the glass you'd held, relieving your grasp and placing it on the table beside his own, before reconnecting with you. His touch had rested at the nape of your neck, grasping you tightly and pulling you as close as possible. The kiss you'd shared had been somewhat sloppy, the long day fatiguing your body with each movement, drool coating your lips quickly, and with the addition of tongue, you'd slipped among one another.

Choso had held you lovingly, both hands placed over your body, his right clutching at your shoulder to hold you close, the left at your hip. You brought your own to cup his cheeks, the kiss slowing as he'd pulled you upward, your legs widening to cage around his thighs. With this, the grip on your neck was lifted, instead resting atop your hips. The hum of carols in the background drowned out by the leisurely tasting of one another, breaths ragged and fanning over the other's face between kisses, neither party wishing to pull away for more than a second.

You dropped your hands to graze over his chest, fabric of the loose t-shirt he'd worn caressing your fingertips until you pushed them beneath the hem, this time sliding bare stomach and upward to chest. His skin was smooth, warmth seeping to you as you'd touched him with ease. Choso sighed into the kiss, a low groan as he'd appreciated your touch, anticipation bubbling between you as you'd pictured the near future in which you'd further the situation at hand.

He slipped his fingers under your sweater, steadily drifting over your back with a light, feathery touch. Your skin prickled under his, goosebumps bubbling over the surface in which he'd sailed over. "I want you." A hushed whisper between elongated and disorganized kisses, a request that had Choso groaning again, squeezing over the skin of your hips as you'd rolled over him, in hopes he'd continue to action.

Choso pulled at your trousers, slipping the fabric downward before you'd adjusted yourself to remove the garment entirely, then fumbling over the button of his jeans with impatience, laughing as he'd taken over to undo it himself, large hands gently pushing past yours. He'd pulled his jeans downward, cock springing upward once free. You'd internalized the gasp at the reveal, though couldn't hide your wide eyes, graciously lapping up the sight before you.

His cock had sat at the height of his belly-button, neatly trimmed black hairs coating his groin and trailing up his stomach. Just as his features had been, his dick was pretty, pale skin and reddened tip already wet with precum. There had been no hesitation when you'd used your spit as lubrication when pumping over him a few times, his stomach sucking inward and a quivering breath leaving his lips at the contact, before lining yourself at his tip. Sinking down, he'd groaned louder than the small grunts he'd been allowing through parted lips previously, while you'd let out a sigh of relief. Choso sunk back into the couch behind him, alleviated features causing him to look beautifully at ease, softened cheeks, slackened lips fallen to part only a centimeter. His eyes hung heavy, watching you through half lidded eyes as you'd moved yourself on him, eventually allowing your cunt to graze his hilt.

You bobbed, coming upward and then down, clit chafing against his groin once more and causing a lewd whine to fall from your lips. Choso brought a finger to his lips, a shushing motion as he glanced toward the hall. "Don't want th' kids to hear." His soft whisper had been accompanied by his fingertip grazing your lips, slipping between them as he'd watched you take it within your mouth, gently sucking. Choso's head tilted backward, eyes squeezing shut as he'd inhaled deeply, attempting to control the pleasure he'd been encumbered by. From the way he'd kissed you before, you'd guessed he'd liked oral, or at least, saliva.

You too his fingers into your mouth further, lips caressing knuckle as you'd silently gagged over him, his hips bucking at the action. From this, drool had gathered against your tongue, in which you'd allowed to pass through a small gap between your lips and his finger. A thick glob of spit had rolled down his hand, slowing when reaching his wrist. "Oh, fuck." Choso moaned, loudly, hips bolting upward as he'd thrown his head back. You smiled around his finger, more drool pooling at his knuckles while his gaze bore into your own, pussy clenching over his bricked up member. Pulling his hand from your face, a pop when your mouth released him, you smirked at him. "Shh, don't wanna wake the kids." Bringing his hand to his lips, he licked your drool from his hand, breath trembling with each maneuver, relishing the taste of your mouth in his own.

"I'm- fuck." His whisper had been interrupted by cursing, head pressing back into the sofa cushion behind. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." His voice had been at normal level now, louder than you'd wanted it to be given the circumstance, though as his deep tone had pooled over every word, the internal battle to remain quiet displayed across his face, you hadn't minded. Full concentration on the sounds he'd been making had dissipated as he'd came, stuttered ropes coating your insides against the muffled whines he'd made. His lips had been pursed shut, back arching from the sofa and hands gripping tightly at the fat of your hips.

You'd sat on him breathlessly, body collapsing forward to rest on his as you'd smiled against his chest. "Y're good at that." Choso spoke quietly through huffs, hands caressing your back once more as both of you had calmed.

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corruptedcaps · 1 year

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A Bad Trip

In the quiet town of Greenwood, where the devout held their faith close like an armor, lived Amanda, a gentle soul molded by her mother's unwavering piety. Martha, her mother, was a pillar of the community, her unwavering commitment to religious principles permeating every aspect of their lives. Together, they inhabited a cocoon of righteousness, sheltered from the sinful temptations that lurked beyond their doorstep.

But fate had a wicked sense of irony in store for Amanda. On a crisp autumn evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, she found herself caught in a downpour. As the raindrops began their gentle descent, Amanda hurried along the deserted streets, her footsteps echoing in the damp silence. Clutching her books tightly to her chest, she wished for shelter from the sudden downpour. The storm seemed to mock her, dousing her in its cold embrace.

Unbeknownst to Amanda, Damien, with his black leather jacket and a devilish smirk, had been cruising along the same street. The sound of the rain pattering against his car's windshield matched the rhythm of his restless thoughts. A glimmer caught his eye as he spotted Amanda, her figure struggling against the elements. He was in the mood to stir up some trouble and he thought the daughter of the most prudish woman would be the perfect catalyst.

Without hesitation, Damien veered his car toward the curbside, pulling up alongside her. Rolling down the window, raindrops splattering against his face, he offered her an impish smile.

"Hey there, need a lift?" Damien called out above the rainfall, his voice carrying a hint of mischief.

Amanda paused, her heart racing with trepidation. The rules ingrained within her fought against the pull of curiosity. Not only that but Amanda knew Damien and his reputation all to well. He was a bully but also a loner, which only added to his mystique. There were rumours that he was into devil worship and may have sacrificed his ex girlfriend Mel in some sort of ritual but Amanda had always figured that was nonsense. The wild imagines of a town filled with bored housewives plus there were plenty of people who said Mel had just moved schools.

But as she stared at his tattoos, his jet black car and his even darker eyes there was a part of Amanda that told her Damien was no good, that anything he touched would turn to poison. However the offer of respite was too tempting to resist. With a hesitant nod, she moved closer, opening the passenger door and stepped into the warmth of Damien's car.

As they drove through the rain-soaked streets, conversation flowed effortlessly. Amanda tried to act calm and cool but she was quickly starting to regret getting into the car with him. Not that he did anything menacing but Amanda could feel a dark aura waft off of him. It didn’t help that she was soaked to the bone either, the combination of the two make her shiver non stop.

Damien peered at her shivering and for a moment Amanda could have sworn she saw his gaze softened. She felt a moment of safety that was quickly undone as he pulled to a stop on a deserted road and reached behind his seat suddenly. She thought to herself how stupid it was for her to get in the car, that this was the moment he would pull out a knife and slice her up. To her shock he pulled out a worn leather jacket. Holding it out to her, he said, "Here, take this. It’s my ex’s, it'll keep you warm."

Amanda hesitated, her upbringing cautioning her against accepting such an intimate gesture from a boy like Damien. Yet, the droplets of rain continued to dance upon her skin, coaxing her into the comfort that lay within his offering. With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, she took the jacket from his outstretched hand.

“Thanks.” She said softly as she slid her arms through the sleeves. The jacket seemed to mold to her frame, as if tailored specifically for her. Its scent, a blend of leather and perfume, mingled with the rain-soaked air, creating an intoxicating fusion that sent her into a kind of daze, making her close her eyes.

Her mind wandered to imaging what wicked things Damien and Mel would have gotten up to while wearing their jackets. She started to feel a heat between her legs that pulsed through her body pleasurably the more she pictured the cruel acts of Damien and his ex.

However as the heat increased all over her body she found herself thinking more about the sexual acts of Damien and Mel. She imagined how his ex might have ridden him like he was some wild animal. The very thought caused a moan to escape her lips.

Damien looked over with a smirk on his face knowing Amanda’s corruption was only starting. It had taken him years and several girlfriends to imbue the jacket with enough darkness to sway a girl like Amanda. Mel had just been the latest to be sucked dry and she had been one nasty piece of work. Now she was upstate somewhere with not an once of evil in her. Last he heard she was going by the name Melody.

Amanda felt a mixture of disgust and excitement at her uncontrollable thoughts. She was not one to think about sex about anyone before but now it was all she could think of and it felt amazing. The goodness in her was still strong though and she forced her eyes open to escape her imagination. That proved to be a mistake however.

When her eyes fluttered open she saw Damien looking at her with a smirk plastered on his face. His handsome chiselled face. He was eying her with delight but also a growing hunger. A growing lust for her. Amanda couldn’t help but give him a silty smile back and bit her bottom lip. No one had ever looked at her that way before and she liked it.

Now even though her eyes were locked on him she couldn’t stop herself from imagining the lewd sexual acts again. Only this time instead of Mel, she was picturing herself in the role of Damien’s girlfriend. She saw herself stroking and sucking his dick eagerly and expertly. Long manicured nails wrapped around his member.

Her thoughts began to manifest in reality as she looked down at her hand to see the shiny long nails shine back at her. There was an ounce of fear when she saw them, knowing something dark and supernatural was afoot but at that moment her strongest feeling she felt was desire. Desire for more.

“How is this possible?” She said with a soft voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re finally letting go and embracing your inner power. Don’t believe me though, go ahead and imagine some more.” Damien said with a wicked smile that sent a shiver down Amanda’s spine.

Closing her eyes again she let her imagination wander more. A body like hers was fit for kneeling and praying, but she didn’t want to kneel anymore. Not for anyone. She wanted a body that was envied, fought over. One that commanded respect, even fear. She imagined her pudgy waist was slim and toned, perfect to show off her midriff. With a crunch she felt her bones reform around her stomach, and with a sucking sound she felt her fat disappear.

Opening her eyes, she pulled up her top to marvel at her now flat stomach. She new nails looked hot against them.

“How are you doing this?” She asked Damien.

“I’m not. This is all you, with the help of the jacket. It’s helping awaken the part of you that doesn’t want to be good anymore. Soon you’ll be the baddest bitch around.” Damien said with a fire in his eyes but Amanda was having second thoughts.

“You are into dark magic! This is wrong! What would my mom think? Fuck that stupid whore! Oh god what am I saying. I need to get out of here.” Amanda said opening the car door preparing to get out but Damien grabbed her arm before she could get up.

“You’re free to go anytime, but the jacket stays here with me.” He said tugging at the sleeve of the jacket. Amanda stood frozen as the sleeve started to come off her arm and she saw the nails of her hand revert back to the nail bitten, dirty set she hand before. A panic set in her. It felt too good having the nails and her new waist, she didn’t want to give it up, but could she essentially sell her soul for it?

“Stop!” She said pulling the sleeve back from Damien and quickly diving her hand back into it. She felt a pleasurable tingle run up her arm as her hand popped out the bottom and her long nails returned.

“Just drive me home and I’ll decide on the way ok?” Amanda said as she stared living out at her nails. Damien shrugged and out the car back into gear and drove back onto the road.

Amanda closed her eyes again, intending to think about what she should do but found her just imaging more ways to improve her body. She imagined a smooth and hairless body completely below her neck, one that would drive a guy like Damien wild.

She pictured herself with perfectly straight jet black hair, the kind that light couldn’t penetrate and that matched Mel’s jacket. No wait, her jacket. Speaking of which, it was far to bulky and baggy for a girl like her to look good in, she needed it shorter, tighter. Something that clung to her body, showing off her curves.

Curves like bigger breasts barely contained in her bra. Tits that even the jacket couldn’t zip over and why would she want them to? A body like hers should be shown off and displayed for the perfection that it is.

But what’s a hot body without a face to match. Her lips, once unadorned, now would hold a daring shade of crimson. Her innocent doe like eyes would become surrounded by dark makeup to make her stare both terrifying and alluring.

Eyes that shot open in that moment as if awakening from a dream. Her hand’s immediately went for the overhead mirror and she adjusted it to take in as much of herself as possible. Her whole appearance had changed to match her fantasy.

Her transformation extended beyond her physical appearance. Amanda felt a newfound confidence wash over her the longer she stared at herself. However it was an arrogant kind of confidence. She thought of herself as the most beautiful woman in the world in that moment and a growing voice inside her told her no one rivalled her. As she felt Damien’s eyes on her she knew it was true. She also knew she wanted him badly and the voice inside her told her to take whatever she wanted from now on.

She stretched out her new body letting Damien drink it in. She loved the way he looked at her. She moved her hand to Damien’s leg where they found purchase on his strong thigh. Amanda squeezed it feeling it’s strength as she let her hand roam further towards her true target.

“Mmmm baby can’t you speed up? I’m some wet… from the rain… and need to get out of these clothes.” She said playfully as she stroked the outline of his cock which she felt twitch with each syllable of her purr.

Damien put his foot down and ran red light after red light until finally they pulled up to Amanda’s house. Amanda smirked as she got out slowly from the car to let Damien take in her perfect Ass. Her new high heels clicked on the wet pavement as she walked up to the door with a Damien close behind.

Strutting in Amanda was immediately greeted by her mother who’s eyes increased in size as she realized who she was staring at.

“A-Amanda? What has happened to you?” Martha stuttered trying to make sense of the scene. However when she spotted Damien, it all clicked into place.

“You! You’ve done this to my daughter! How dare-” Martha began before Amanda roughly pushed her mother to the ground.

“Shut the fuck up Martha, you’re ruining my horniness. Things are changing around here. I’m not pathetic like Amanda anymore. I’m Mandi and I won’t be listening to you or your religious bullshit anymore. There’s only one thing I worship now.” Mandi smiled as she put her arm around Damien and stroked his crotch.

“Babe tie her up.” Mandi said to Damien who jumped to action and quickly tied Martha to a nearby chair while Mandi watched on with cold indifference.

“What are you going to do to me?” Martha said in between sobs.

“Oh we’re not going to do anything TO you. No you’re just going to sit there and watch.” Mandi said getting close to Martha for her mother to smell her bitchy perfume. Before Martha could ask her what she was going to watch, Mandi had already began to strip.

The first thing she started with was her new leather jacket. It’s evil had filled Mandi up totally that taking it off no longer reverted her back to Amanda. No she was Mandi forever now. Knowing this she walked the jacket over to Martha and draped it on her shoulders.

“Here keep this warm for me will you? I think you’ll find it comfortable.” Mandi said with a knowing smirk. Martha felt a shiver at her daughters words but strangely the shiver felt pleasurable and was the jacket moving on her body?

Meanwhile Mandi and Damien had gotten down to business quickly. Mandi had pushed Damien against the wall and kissed him hard while expertly removing his pants and her own. With gymnastic perceives she jumped onto to him and slowly lower her aching pussy on to his eager cock. She moaned an animalistic moan as she started to ride him like he was a fairground ride.

Martha at first averted her eyes from the sights she was being subjected to but as the jacket draped her shoulders began to tighten around her body she felt compelled to watch. She found herself getting turned on with each thrust, wishing she could be a part of the action. Each sinful thought chipped away at her soul and corrupted her body, remaking it into a tight and youthful altar to lust.

She didn’t realize how much she changed until the binds around her body fell away as her flab melted away freeing her. She could now escape or save her daughter but she had changed too much now. Instead she ran her hands down her transformed body now wrapped in slutty black latex. It felt good to touch herself, it felt even better when she slipped a hand under her pants into her welcoming pussy.

Mandi looked over at Martha with a devilish grin on her face, knowing the jacket had done its job perfectly, despite its evil nearly being sucked dry by Mandi. Martha was now an evil slut like Mandi but she would very much be a beta in their new relationship.

“Mmmm baby why don’t you go over there and give ‘Mara’ a hand. Don’t worry about me, I’ll watch.” Mandi said whispering in Damien’s ear. Mandi felt a pleasurable throb in her pussy from Damien’s cock as he looked over to see who this Mara was. He gently let Mandi down and pulled his dripping cock out of her. Mara meanwhile licked her lips as he approached.

Mandi was about to settle in for an enjoyable viewing when she heard a car pull up to the house and she peeked out the window. She had totally forgot about her step father Christopher. He was the local pastor and was the reason why her family was so devout. Mandi knew if they could corrupt him, then the town would fall under her heel. She could become queen of a sinful utopia. However the jacket had lost all its power so she would have to do it the old fashioned way.

As she sauntered naked to the door to greet Christopher she mused to herself that this way would be much more fun anyway. The door swung open and Christopher was immediately beset with the sounds and smells of lewd sex being performed on his wife. However his eyes quickly locked onto the body of his step daughter.

“Hello daddy, welcome home.” She said with a darkness in her eyes that Christopher knew to be pure evil and yet found himself closing the door behind him.

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #corrupted clothing #evil couple #corrupted couple #cc2023

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