#one last time...for da road... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magicwithered · 24 days ago

Text

Pairing: Remmick/Reader

Summary: He’s no wolf, and you are no Little Red Riding Hood.

WC: 8.6k | ao3

There’s a white man walking behind you. He’s always there in the dark when you make your way back from Annie’s house, but you often choose not to say anything. The ancestors crowd your mind with their fussing and grumbling as you follow the dirt path back to your cottage. The catfish she packed you rustling in the warm Mississippi night. You see him from the corner of your eye and an auntie snaps in your head to look straight ahead.

Keep your eye on the path, babeh. Don’t go lookin’ at that devil, she grumbles and your head aches with the warning. You wonder if Annie has to deal with this shit. You wonder how her connection manifests, because hearing them voices, often layered on top of each other, is not fun.

Still, you listen to them because they have always protected you. Even back when you had to run from them white men burning down your house. Even when you had to listen to the wail of your mother as the Klan burned their cross into your lawn. Way back when your daddy belted you so good you couldn’t walk for days and he got so sick he couldn’t go out and pick cotton for his work. They been keeping you safe, and they will continue to keep you safe until your last breath, whenever that was.

But that man, you can’t help but think about. Something about him tugging your awareness like a string you can’t snap. The leaves rustle for a moment and then–

Step, step, step.

Footsteps following yours, echoing exactly on time with the press of your feet in the dirt road. He’s not a second late, not delayed, matched so that it sounds like one.

Don’t turn around.

“Excuse me, miss,” he calls behind you and you don’t quicken your pace but you don’t turn. Somebody somewhere, crowded in there, tells you to keep walking. You do.

“‘Scuse me,” he says again and you take a sharp breath in, blinking at the dark path before you. Some time to go before you get to your cottage. “I just need a place to stay.”

Something chills in your bones, makes you feel like rot is unfurling under your skin. Death.

If you keep ignoring that white man he gon’ kill ya, girl.

Shut the hell up, Jimmy. If she talk to da man she gon’ die, too.

I done tol’ you about speakin’ to me that way woman!

Your eyes roll to the sky, as each voice stacks itself on top of the other. Pounding in the right side of your temple causes you to squint as the man steps closer. Silence.

Complete and utter silence. You’ve never felt such bliss before and you turn before you can stop yourself.

“Lis’en,” you clear your throat looking at the man. Pale skin, pale eyes and tall. Taller than you, definitely not taller than Cornbread, but tall enough. Decay. Flies feasting on a corpse, maggots twisting under flesh, fire and screams. Laughter, but none of which is in pure joy. No, that ain’t right. It is in joy. Joy of the carnage, joy of the pain, but not the pure lighthearted joy of having fun. Joy of chaos.

There’s a trail of blood against wooden floors, women kicking and screaming, men laughing as something screams itself hoarse trying to fight. You blink, stumbling back as the man catches you between two strong arms. The sweat sliding down your smooth skin is not from the heat this time, it’s from the vision.

“There’s an Inn down the road wit’ folks that look jus’ like you.” The man looks at you, eyebrow cocked up as you continue to talk whilst orienting yourself. “Reckon they’ll let you in jus’ fine.” A pause. “Sir.”

He chuckles, resisting for a moment as you try to pull away. Biceps bulge for a moment, locking you in the cage of his body.

“Don’t need to call me, sir, miss. Names Remmick.”

The world around you is dancing, spiraling, twisting, screaming—

God, all those screams, pistols and children crying. The grunts of depraved men over sobbing and despondent women and children, men and boys fallen to the ground, blank eyes staring at the sky. Villages burning, pillaging—

You leave my granddaughter alone, devil.

The breath slams out of you, back hitting the dirt as the man stumbles away from you. You roll to a stop, elbow slamming into the ground with a soft thump and you look at the man for one, two, three seconds before, fast as you could, stagger to your feet and run.

You should never turn your back on danger, especially when that danger is a white man, it’s something you know well. But it can’t be helped, you can’t run to your cottage backwards, and you need to be in the sanctity of your home. If he’s followed you, you wouldn’t know, tumbling into the door, slamming into the wood as your feet pass the threshold and your heart hammers in your chest.

The sun feels like a warm balm to a freezing winter. Shoulders tucked into your chin, you hip check the door of Annie’s house, tipping your head to the grave marker in a polite hello as the woman hisses something in annoyance.

“Stop bangin on my door,” she grumbles, cuffing the back of your head in affection and you duck, swiping the cornbread she was plating, off the hot rack and shoving it into your mouth. Grin infectious, your laugh fills the air as she fusses over you as if she can’t stand you despite the gentle hand she places just atop your head.

“Gotta let you know I’m here, Auntie.”

Quit irritating that lady.

Annie catches the slight twitch of your eyebrow and hums, waving the voices off with ease. Your shoulders lose their tension, and she places offerings on the alter and you sit. For the longest time she was the only one who had the power to slice through the throbbing in your brain and quiet the ancestors.

“Eat up.” A pause as brown eyes narrow looking at you. “You gon’ need it.”

“I ate,” you say with a smile, grabbing a piece of bacon and Annie tips her head to the side just as a group of children giggle their way into her house. “You got e’rythin? I gotta stop at Bo’s anyways.”

She nods as the kids give her their play money. It’s cute, a childs’ doodle on a fake bill. You crouch for a second as Suzy looks up at you, gently thumbing the spot between her shoulders. The skin there is hot, a blazing fire from an unneeded palm strike, bruised under cotton and dark skin and you scowl. Her smile is bright despite the bruise, the pain she seems to endure with childlike wonder and you hum softly under your breath, catching Annie’s gaze with severity.

“Hey, lil Suzy,” you mumble, reaching up to grab the salve and rub it into her pained skin. She makes a soft sound of discomfort before relaxing in the gentleness of your hands.

Oughta kill her damn daddy. Put his body same place ‘Lijah put his.

You sigh, looking up at the roof. Uncle Jimmy.

Knock that fool down that dirt road.

Uncle Jimmy, you think again and the old man’s grumbles die down. There’s a bloom of appreciation as you take care of his granddaughter, soothing her aches and pains. “You still the best at Hide n’ Seek?”

Suzy gasps at the audacity of the question, pointing at her chest in pride. “‘Course I am! Daddy couldn’t find me ‘til mama called fa me two days later.”

You nod, smoothing the hairs in her face down and kiss her forehead. “Make it three an’ ‘ll get you one of ‘em candies from Bo’s.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Annie’s soft gaze burns between your back and you stand up, lightly pushing Suzy out the door with you.

“‘Fore you go,” Annie calls out, and you turn, “‘rythin alright?” She gestures to the space around your head and for a second you’re reminded of the white man, Remmick, whose proximity silenced the connection for a moment as the folks up there quiet down.

“They jus’ loud today,” you say after a moment of silence. It doesn’t soothe whatever she’s reading in you, but she nods letting you leave for the errands that help her get by being so far from the town. “‘Ll be back.”

This is the part you hate the most, the walking. You can’t buy a car, and you would rather rip your own tongue out than ask any of them boys near the church to help. It would help, of course, but it would cause a fuss. Rumours get around this town fast, and you would rather not have anyone thinking they’re a prospect for marriage when you’re not ready. Not that it stops the folks around here, gossipping about how you’re getting too old to still be single, and you know your days are numbered until someone stumbles on your cottage and makes it a problem.

The problem was that you shouldn’t have anything to your name unmarried, but you make due. You make it work, and the women who do know about it keep it mum. They keep your land and cottage a secret and you help them out. It was mutually beneficial until you marry (whenever that was).

But the walk to the town is always the hardest, especially under the hot sun. The sweltering heat causing your clothes to cling to you until you finally get to some shade. You do your best to avoid any place that any white folks frequent, taking the path least worn until you hear the sound of your name being called by one of the church girls.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Cassandra says, linking your arms together, “I aint seen you since I last seen you.” Discreetly you pass her the vile sitting in her your basket, lips twisted in amusement as she slips it in her glove. “What you doin’ in town today?”

“Goin to Bo’s,” you say slyly, eyebrows raised as the woman next to you wiggles her eyebrows, giving you the coin that was promised.

“Now you know that Grace is a jealous lady,” she giggles as your hand snaps out, skin meeting skin in the humid air.

“You keep joking like that and ion think Grace gon’ let you in Bo’s no more.”

Cassandra rolls her eyes, stepping in front of you to twist and twirl for a moment. Her dark skin catches the sharp glint of the mid-morning sun, glistening with a hint of sweat. She was a beautiful girl, and she knew it. Knew it so well she was keeping her husband from getting a child. That, and the fact that she was having an affair with his best friend(s) behind his back. Not that you cared, judgment was what the ancestors did. It was all they did in the afterlife, they were probably bored out their mind dead now.

“Hush now. Even Grace can’t resist this.” Her hand slaps against her waist and you laugh, jogging to catch up to her. Shoulders bump into each other and she coyly waves at one of the many men eyeing her from their spot and they stumble over themselves to wave back.

Something nudges your brain and you can feel–

Please don’t start, you think just as her grandmother goes to say something. You can feel the spirit still gearing up to say something before waving her hand and settling down. Thank you, Grandma.

Don’t thank me when she die, she says, Girl ain’t got a lick o’ sense.

The bell chimes as you walk into Bo’s, Cassandra leaning enticingly against the counter as Grace’s eyes glance down to look at your friend.

“Whatchu doin’ here, ‘Sandra.”

“Oh Grace, don’t start,” Cassandra says, waving the woman off. You’d think the two hated each other if not for the way they both lean in whenever the other was in proximity. The three of them had something odd going on, but you weren’t gonna pry, lest you be traumatized.

“Bo!”

“I’ll be damned,” the asian man says, walking from the back of the store. He swings the long way, pressing a kiss to his wifes’ forehead, a hand brushing against Cassandra’s hand before enveloping you in a hot hug. Someone murmurs something you can’t translate in your head and you ignore it. “Ain’t seen you in a while, Hummingbird.”

“Too damn hot for all this huggin’” you say, despite not pulling away.

“Then come by more.”

You wave him off, procuring something for Grace to give to Lisa, and then, with a huff, you lean in. “Just outta curiosity–” your fingers press against the tab of flour and yeast– “any weird white men come by las’ night?”

“Honey, weird white men come by all the time,” Grace says, rolling her eyes. But you know she’s not talking about your weird white man. If she was, she wouldn’t be so blase about it. He was unnerving, something that sent your hair straight. Grace looks across the street and tucks the gift for Lisa in her apron. “I gotta head back.” She looks at you for a moment, taking in your stance and nods to herself. “I’ll keep an eye out for any weird white men, kay?”

“Thank you.”

Cassandra can’t follow Grace to the other store, even if it’s obvious she wants to. The two share a look before your friend sighs loudly, grabbing the flour you’d been eyeing and placing it on the counter.

“Need anythan else, Humminbird?” She knows what you pick up better than anyone else, she so often accompanies you to the shop when you make your way to the town.

“Seeds,” you say absentminded, staring out the back window for a moment. Something felt off, like you were being watched, and you catch the sound of a spirit, something angry and vitriolic. Something spitting mad at the presence of so many colored folks walking about, and you duck between stocks, grabbing Cassandra’s arm.

“What the he–”

Bo sees what you see a few seconds later, watching a few of the other black people in the crowd slowly start to congregate to the other side of the walkway, far from the man seemingly uninterested in the chaos he was causing by his presence alone. It didn’t matter how much the white folks liked to pretend, you knew a klan member from looks alone. So, it was obvious, did the rest of the folks as Hogwood rolls into town. He likes to pretend he’s some benevolent guy. Easy going and happy to be there. But his hatred for your people was told by the twitch in his eye and the pull of his lips.

Too many men and women had been lost to Hogwood to risk getting on his bad side. On the drop of a dime he might accuse someone of something, the poor men getting dragged into the sheriff's office only to be forced out in the blazing sun and work for whoever used to own them or their parents.

Not everyone made it back when their time was up.

When it’s safe enough Bo waves your coin off.

“Pay me back by comin’ over more often!”

You’d cuss him clean out if you weren’t so fond of the family, shaking your head and slapping 50 cents on his counter and running out the door.

“I’ll visit more when I got more time!” You yell over your shoulder, eyeing the afternoon sun. The walk here took much of your time, and the walk back will call the sun to drift lower and lower to the horizon as you make your way back to Annie’s.

It’ll be dark when you make your trek back to your small cottage, and you know what that will cause you.

There’s a white man following you. Again. The moons waning light just barely lights the way, and you look up at the sky, starlight illuminating just enough that you do not have to worry about where you step. It doesn’t matter how many times Annie tells you to stay, how dangerous the dark can get, you simply must sleep in your own bed. His foot falls a half second after yours, and you know he’s doing so to alert you of his presence. He could walk quicker, but he won’t. You’re not sure if he’s doing this because he wants to scare you, but you know he’s aware you know his presence.

“Ma’am?”

“Please don’t start with me today, sir,” you say with a sigh. Your footsteps don’t falter, even as his breath suddenly hits the back of your neck.

“I told you,” he says, with a southern accent just south of normal, “call me Remmick.”

“Sir,” you say again, firmly, stopping suddenly and turning, “what do you want?” What do you want from me?

Remmick smiles, charming, off–

Death.

— “Just looking for a place to stay.”

“Still?” You gesture, taking a big step back. “I tol’ you. There’s a Inn down the way, wit’ folks jus’ like you.”

He blinks once, twice, three times before laughing. “I don’t want folks who look like me.” I want you.

“Can’t help you with that.” A pause. “Bes’ get on your way.”

“Well at least let me walk you home.”

Deep breath, smooth and annoyed, turning your back to him. Dangerous, but protected. He cannot do anything to you. He walks so close you can feel his breath, the brush of his chest against your back. “I been seein you around. Live alone?”

You don’t answer him.

“Not safe for you out here by yourself, you know that right?”

You open your mouth before snapping it shut.

He huffs a laugh, amused at your silence. The ancestors are forced quiet for once, again in his presence, disconnecting you from them with his presence. Remmick mumbles something under his breath before gently grabbing your wrist. “Stubborn,” he says, turning you around to look up at him. He’s handsome enough, you can admit that. Not necessarily your cup of tea, but his danger is not yours, not for you to fear. His danger is something other, primordial for something, someone else.

Your jaw works for a moment before: “What do you want, Remmick?”

He smiles. His teeth are long, you blink, short. You blink again. Blood on his mouth. Blink. Gone. “A place to stay,” he says and you shake your head.

“I can’t help you there.” Silence. “Why are you following me?”

He tilts his head left, then right, bones cracking as he thinks. “You don’t want to help me? I thought your people were the helpful sort.”

A snort leaves you, and you shake your head. “Not to your kind.” You shake your head, clutching your basket tighter. “Not to a haint like you. No.”

He nods slowly, still smiling before shrugging. “Worth a try.”

Your steps echo as the two of you approach your house from the trees, pushing past the foliage that hides it away from view. “How many have you tricked?” You nod towards him, eyebrow raised. “Me or mine wouldn’t help you.”

Remmick stands at eye level with you now that you are on your porch and he chuckles softly. “Enough.” Blue eyes look past you to the door that keeps your home safe and then back at you. “You gonna let me in?”

“You gonna go up the way?” No. But he knew that already. “Why are you following me, white man?”

“I can’t follow a pretty girl now?” He looks aghast, shocked in a way you can tell is comical. He’s charming when he wants to be, but you see right through him. Maybe that’s why you’re even entertaining this conversation. He doesn’t let you say anything, instead he takes a step on the lowest stair so he’s back to being taller than you. Blue eyes look up at the ceiling of your porch, painted a soft blue and he takes another step, forcing you back until your back is to the door and he is under the soft protective blue of your ceiling. “Haven’t been drawn to something like this before.”

His head dips to the side, breath skimming the skin of your neck as he inhales. “I can smell the power on you.” Hands grip the fabric of his shirt, pushing him away suddenly and you stumble back, opening your door and falling in. The wooden floor hurts you when you hit it, but you slam the door shut, chest heaving, head resting against the door as you try to breathe through the sudden fear. The door jostles as Remmick, too, sits against it. “I’ll be out here,” he calls through the door, “until you let me in.”

Do not let that devil in, your grandmother says in your head, a crack of pain splitting down your temple just as Remmick says, “All that power in such a fragile body. Let me help you.”

When you next see Annie she’s frowning at you, and you look around to see what seemed to be pissing her off. “Annie?”

She makes a sound under her breath, walking over to you. Her hands press against your shoulders gently and you withhold a flinch before she remembers and slides them down to hold your bicep. “Somethin’s off witchu.” She squints, waving a hand in the air around your head. “Com’ere.”

“Annie,” you sigh and she raises an eyebrow that makes you chuckle awkwardly, “Okay.”

“Jus’ wanna check on you, babeh,” she says, pulling some fabric out and pushing you to the seat with her spices. “Gonna make you a mojo bag.”

“Annie, I don’t need a mojo ba–” A rough palm covers your mouth, something sweet on her face as she continues to grab the rest of the ingredients she needed.

“Hush, Hummin’bird.”

She makes you a mojo bag, and you know that you will wear it everyday until the day you die.

Remmick walks you home at night, sits on your porch, rocking in your rocking chair from then on. He’s annoying, but it feels good to have a break. Annie has to wave the elders away, she has to coax them away with sheer stubbornness and determination. But Remmick doesn’t have to. His proximity is enough to muffle the connection, and selfish as it is, you relish in it. You find comfort in the silence after being battered with it all.

It would be smarter to sit behind the threshold of your doorway, and sometimes when Remmick is eyeing your neck a little too long, and a little too hungry, you do. But most of the time, you sit right next to him, listening to the crickets rub their wings together and the ebb and flow of the fireflies illuminating the night sky. It’s something you enjoy, even when you can feel your grandmother's sharp disappointment when he leaves before dawn and you hate that you can’t help it. Remmick is charming, even if his charm is carefully crafted.

“Stop starin’,” you mutter, swatting at the man as he grins.

“Can’t help it,” he says, wiping the drool off his chin when you roll your eyes. “You are delectable, you know that?” A snap hits the air as he cracks his neck. “Pretty thing.”

Full lips curl into a grimace and you shake your head. “Don’t call me that, Remmick. I ain’t food.”

He nods to himself before shrugging. “No.” A pause and he leans in and takes a deep breath. If it was any other man, you would have hit him in the face. You would have flinched away and threatened him with the switch Annie had given you when you were 14 and had cried in her arms about a mean old man who tried to touch you weirdly. But he’s not any man, he’s Remmick. That shouldn’t mean much but it means a lot to you. It means a lot of silence when he’s around. It’s something pulling you to him despite all the common sense in your body telling you not to. “No you’re not food. You’re somethin special.”

“Is that what you say to all your victims? They special?”

“Don’t much talk to my victims,” he says easily, “but.” Another inhale as he seems to vibrate around you, a maw of a predator watching and waiting for the right time to pounce.

“So you want me to believe you don’t want to hurt me?” You turn to look up at him, resting your shoulder on the wood of your house, and Remmick makes no move to shift backwards. Instead, his chest brushes against your shoulder with each breath he takes. He lets out a huff of breath, something akin to a laugh and shakes his head, resting his hand on the jut of your hip.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, pretty bird.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You want to kill me, my apologies.”

His lip curls in a snarl, nostrils flaring as he takes a step back. “No, I don’t want to kill you either.” Blue eyes trail down the length of your body as he thinks. “What I want will hurt, I will not lie. But my intention is not to hurt you.”

“Oh.” A pause. “I apologize. You don’ wanna hurt me, but you will.” Your eyes roll and you cross your arms. “Bullshit, Remmick.”

“You and I both know if it were not for this damn—” his fingers sizzle as he reaches for the mojo bag— “I would have already done what needs to be done. But that does not mean I want to hurt you. I would kill anyone who wants to hurt you.”

“Remmick–”

“Anyone,” he repeats sternly, gripping your wrists and bringing it close to his mouth. Lips press against your pulse, tongue sweeping out to lick the skin there. You pull your hand away, partially scandalized, heat rushing through your body as you do so. “When you’re ready, when you’re tired of all that power in your delicate body.” He does not finish his sentence, instead running his tongue along the points of his teeth as he stops hiding behind the facade of being human.

You should take a step away but you don’t. You can’t find it in you to feel the fear you did when you’d first acknowledged him. Beyond that you can feel the fissures of disconnection thread themselves close, bonds frayed suddenly healing in your skin, between teeth and tongue, you can suddenly feel them once more, fighting to get to you despite Remmick’s presence.

“You and I both know that ain’t the reason you can’t bite me,” you whisper into the night air.

There’s a white man following you. But it’s not your white man. It’s too early for him to be walking about, and even if it wasn’t you can hear the slow growl of those who have hated you and yours. Complaints despite the man ignoring them. The man watches you from his vehicle, slowing it down as you make the pivot to walk to Annie’s instead of your home.

Men like him, like that, are much more dangerous than most people give them credit for. They hate you, but they want you viscerally. They can’t stand the way their dicks harden as you walk past, can’t handle the sudden pressure in their chest and they make it your problem. Sometimes they make it your problem by antagonizing you. Sometimes…well, it’s a story you’re more than aware of. Pretty little mulatos born of a violence their mothers cannot say. Pretty children with eyes bright, and skin brighter from a man who does not take no for an answer. Does not think of those of you can tell them no.

He follows you until you’re far enough from him and his to say something.

“I can give you a ride, miss,” he calls out. Maybe the tone works on other women. Women who have skin paper white like him, loose hair and bright eyes. But even if you were one of them, you’re you. Who you are so intuned with the world around you can read behind the tone. Lust and entitlement coats his tongue. He will take it with or without your approval. “Getting late out.”

You hum a small thing, hiking the bag up as you glance at him. You keep him within your line of sight, not allowing a moment of unawareness. “Thank you, sir.” A smile, quick and fleeting. “But I’m all good. My momma not too far outchere.”

He parks the car in the middle of the path and hops out, feet pattering up to you with a slimy smile. “Well at least let me walk you home,” he says and you shake your head.

“Thank you kindly, sir,” you say firmly, “but ‘s no need.”

His easy-going expression changes suddenly and he grabs your forearm, roughly pulling you towards him.

“Now listen here, ni—“

You push him away, eyebrows raising up in surprise as he makes a soft sound when your palms hit his chest. He laughs, something low and mean, hand raising and slapping you just as quickly. It winds you, the flesh of your cheek stinging as you grip it. It’s not shock. It’s not not shock. Taken you off guard for sure, but not unexpected. From the corner of your eye, you watch as he deftly tugs the string of his pants to pull himself out. If you don’t move now you’ll be forced to live with something irreversible. The switch Annie had given you way back when is in your hand, your body on autopilot just as—

Kill him before he kills you, someone says it. Someone who doesn’t speak often, but one you know chose violence over chains every time. And make it hurt, hummingbird.

You do, the knife stabbing into his shoulder as you rush him. He screams in pain and you bring your thumbs up, fingers digging into the hollows of his cheeks as words, those unknown to you, come spilling out of your mouth. It’s clarifying, suddenly, the path that you see before you. Webbing out in whites and blues as the spirits of his spiteful ancestors try to fight against it.

A curse so violent, that it turns their souls to ash as it digs its way into his pores, his bones, his bloodline. It’s painful for him, though he probably thinks it’s from the knife wound, as it burns its way across lineages, latches on to cousins, uncles, unborn nieces and nephews. It connects to the wife he’s left at home and the family she has all the way in Alabama. It makes itself a home in their bloodstream, in the curl of their mouths, the flick of their wrists. A curse with no cure until the ancestors decide that enough is enough.

Or you heal them.

You know you never will.

He screams and screams as you scramble off him, pulling the knife out of his shoulder with you. You want to run but instead, you grab the keys out of his car, tossing them in the dark foliage of the forest surrounding you.

“Bitch! Bitch, I’ll fucking kill you!” He swears, snot and drool running down his face as he sobs in pain. You say nothing, taking off into the depth of the forest, making your way back to your house.

You should go to Annie. You know this, but you don’t. The sun is almost fully set, and Remmick will look for you if you're not home. You two have a pattern, one neither of you are willing to break. And you hate to say it, because Annie is the only safety you’ve ever known, but you need to see him.

You need it.

You don’t need that white devil, your grandmother says and you stumble into your house with a sob. Go to Annie’s. Go to Annie’s and be with your—

“Will you fuckin stop?” You cry, clutching your hair, frizzy and falling out of its style from the heat of the day. “I know, okay? I know. But I.” You clutch your hand close to your chest as if it could stop the panic. “I can’t. I can’t, I c—“

You hear your name from the door. You forgot to close it when you made it through and Remmick stands there all happy like until he sees the swell of your cheek. He forgets himself, trying to walk over the threshold, hitting an invisible barrier that keeps him from doing so.

There is no fanfare, no asking. He looks at you and any trace of humanity, the one he so often likes to pretend he has if not to keep from scaring you, leaves him completely.

“Let me in.”

You shake your head, taking a step back as your chest shakes from the force of your tears and fear. “I-I can’t, Remmick. You know that.”

He rests his forehead against the barrier keeping him out, staring at you. Something grim and violent under all of it. It reminds you of some weeks ago, back when he’d asked you for an invite with all the joy of a man who knew he would have to work for it.

“You gon’ let me in?”

You shake your head with a laugh. He shouldn’t be entertaining, truly. He’s all charm and wit, and you shouldn’t be fond of him. This white haint who can’t seem to take no for an answer, but also walks you home every night. Who walks around the perimeter of your house just before dawn and seems to clear any evidence of a path to your front door.

“You gon’ stop tryna turn me?”

He looks at you with fake surprise, but you both know the answer is no. You don’t fault him. Remmick is, despite the role he’s taken up, is exactly who you understand him to be. He can trick many, but you’ve never been any of the others, simply by way of your connection to the other side. Simply by way of what you were raised in.

You rub the palm of your hands against the cotton of your skirt as you stand up, eyeing the night sky. It was getting late and you had a busy day tomorrow. You’d promised Annie to help her with the farm animals. You thank the gods every day you didn’t have to think about being a sharecropper, you’re not sure you’d survive it. Not really. Not with all that you already have to contend with, a connection to the other side that disables you on some days.

“Tell ya what, Remmick,” you say, stepping away from him, “you stop speakin in that fake accent an’ ‘ll give you the invitation.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes as he stares at you. Whatever emotion that sits on his face is a new one you’ve encountered and you pocket the thought for another day as he smiles, one that doesn’t reach his eyes, so unlike the others he gives you. “Don’ know what you talkin’ ‘bout.”

You nod and step past the threshold. “Then there is no invite.” The door closes decisively as you lay on your cot for the night.

“Let me in.” He’s looking at you, red eyes wide and pleading. “Let me in, Pretty Bird.”

It’s not what he says that makes you cave. It’s the way he says it. Gone is the southern accent he’s put on since he first started talking to you all those months ago. It changes, rolls his r, dances over the letters in a way you’ve never encountered before. It’s something new. Something real. And you made a promise.

Eyes lock as you take in a sharp breath, blinking once in apprehension before you say it. “Come in, Remmick.”

He raises across the entryway, the thick of his hand wrapping delicately around your waist as the other grabs hold of your chin. He tips your head this way and that, silence settling in the air around you. A piece of you knows it was always going to be like this. He was always going to make his way into your sanctuary. The moment you started thinking of home as him. The moment you started associating your house with him, you knew it was a matter of time. But you’re happy it’s this. Not the circumstances, his thumb brushing against the heated flesh of your cheek as the look on his face gets more and more angry. As his anger turns to hunger, to rage, to something all consuming you know he will do what needs to be done. No, your happiness has no rhyme and reason, it’s just the slump of your shoulders as he takes on your weight. The knowledge that he is…sturdy.

His teeth elongate and he buries fingers into the thick of your curls, pressing your foreheads together. “You’re okay?”

You make a sound, the answer eluding you as well. “‘Ll be okay,” you correct softly and he nods.

“And this?” Remmick touches your fingers, the blood on your dress and you shake your head.

“His.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, lifting you up and placing you on your cot. He presses a kiss to the curve of your wrist, then your shoulder, then, delicately, brushes his lips across your swollen cheek before standing up. “I’ll be back,” he murmurs, looking at you. He takes a couple of steps before you reach out and grab his hand.

“Remmick, I cursed him,” you say, “‘s fine.” You did more than just curse him, but the words are…jumbled. Confusing as you let the truth of it sink into your body. You didn’t just curse him, you cursed everything connected to him. Everything that shares the same blood that runs through his veins and then some.

It looks like it’s enough to stop him, he hesitates, fighting between wanting to stay and leaving. But it’s not enough. Remmick’s entire being was created by a deep violence that you have no knowledge of. One that he is sure you can comprehend and empathize with. One he does not want to sully the safety of your home, the privilege you have given him to walk through those doors.

Besides, he made a promise after all.

—

He comes back with blood covering the front of his shirt. He does not ask for you to wake, though you do the moment your dream suddenly cuts off. You wake suddenly, with a gasp as Remmick sits against the far wall watching you. He shushes you, walking towards you within silence.

“Remmick.”

“Hush, pretty bird,” he mumbles, sinking his clean hand into the plush of your skin. “I’m here.” He hums a soft tune, something soothing and gentle.

“You’re covered in blood,” you grumble, body slumping down, “clean yourself.”

He laughs, gently massaging your muscles. “They put up a fight.”

“They?” You blink at him, bleary eyed and confused and Remmick pushes you down to lay on the bed.

“Go to sleep, pretty bird.”

“‘F I sleep, you’ll be gone.”

It’s quiet for a second as he looks at the way your cottage is built. Windows that will shine light all the way to the far side, except for the corner he had found himself sitting in watching you sleep. “Nawl, pretty bird,” he says softly, the fake southern drawl back in his words, “��ll stay the night. Shower and stay the night.”

He makes good on that promise.

Some nights he stays and presses you against the wall, pressing lips and teeth against your throat. Only when his intention changes does the mojo bag keep him from going any further. Every time his teeth elongate and push to press into the skin of your neck, he hisses with an annoyance.

He takes it out on the skin of your thighs, pressing tongue and teeth into the plushness of your skin. He sucks hickeys into them, covered by your clothes during the day. There’s a thrill in your blood when you remember it, when you brush your thighs together as wives and night women alike find you for help. A piece of you thinks it’s crazy that you’ve let a white man, a haint, no less, cause your blood to rush the way it does in your veins. When Annie sees you she squints, trying to figure out what changed in the months since she’d given you the mojo bag.

Your ancestors are angry.

Angry at his proximity, angry at the permissions you’ve given him to your body. Angry that you would betray them like you are. Your guilt ails you, their ire hurts you. Hands pressed together as you ask for forgiveness time and time again. Your knees bruise as you kneel against the floor, forehead pressing against the fabric of your bed.

You would let a white devil touch you? After the things he’s do—

Tch. When he hurts you don’t ask us to—

A haint! A slaver probably! After everything those people have done!

You moan in pain, body curling as they batter your brain. It feels like it’s seeping out of your ears, blood dripping out of your nose. Your grandmother won’t even talk to you, her disappointment clear through the bond. Ironically enough, it’s Jimmy who comes to your defense when they batter your body to the hells and back.

Leave the damn girl alone, Mabel! God damn! If you could see him you’re sure he’d be waving the woman off. Something gentle blankets your soul and he makes a sound. Now I ain’t sayin give him no pass. But you saw what he did, now! Took care of our baby girl afta that man tried t-ta take advantage. Ripped that whole town apart. Leave the girl alone.

It’s not Remmick, but Annie who finds you in pain. She scoops you up, pressing your head against her sternum and mumbles something softly, rocking you as the pain crescendos and unfolds.

“Hummin’bird,” she murmurs, calloused hand gently sweeping sweat stained curls closer to your scalp.

“Hurts,” you whine, trying to bury closer to her. It reminds you of when you were a child, after running from the Klan, after they burned your home to the ground and killed your parents. It reminds you of when she found you, told you she knew you were coming, that she had a dream and that she was going back up to Mississippi. She told you that she’d take care of you, this woman who only seemed to be about a decade older than you at the time, just barely hitting 17 to your 8.

“Ya been cursed,” she says softly, “by a haint.” A soft tsk, non-judgmental, sweet in the way she soothes you. “That’s what you been hiding, hm?”

You say nothing, squeezing your eyes shut as she pats the blood of the nostril of your nose.

“Hummin’bird.” This time, she says it firmly, grabbing both your cheeks and making you look at her. “You been hiding a haint?”

Your mouth screws up and you look away. “He’s nice.”

“A haint is a h–”

“I know,” you cut her off, coughing, “I know. But he helped me. Hurt the man who hurt me.” Your face crumples as you say it, lips curling into a quiet sob. “They’re so angry at me.”

Annie hushes you, sliding in the bed beside you, despite it being much too small for the both of you comfortably. “Oh Hummin’bird,” she murmurs. It’s comforting. She says nothing much after that. She doesn’t offer platitudes or sweet nothings. But she does offer sweet silence and no judgement despite her being within her right. You sleep to it. Right through the day and night.

Annie offers only understanding.

(And a prayer for your safety.)

Remmick does not like that you won’t take his offer to turn. He hardly respects it, but he can do nothing about it. You know this by the curve of his lips as he looks at you many nights later. He says nothing, though, despite his clear disapproval.

“Hummingbird,” he says after moments of silence and your head snaps to his, neck cracking from the force in it. “That’s what they call you.”

“H-how did you—?”

His face goes through a series of expressions before settling on one. Something a mixture between despair and anger. You can’t get a read on the rest of his face even with it.

“Was here the other night,” he says, sitting on the floor by your bed. Your hand reflexively tangles in his hair, and he rests his arm against the bend of his knee. “When they were hurtin’ you.”

A pregnant pause.

“They’re killin’ you, y’know?” This time, he turns, lifting to bracket his arms around you on the bed. “That power you got there. ‘S too much. You should just—”

“Remmick,” you cut him off and he hisses, ripping himself away from you to pace around your cottage.

“I know,” he snaps, scrubbing his face, “I know you don’t want it. But what am I to do? Hm? Watch ‘em kill you? Watch you perish?” He’s back over you, bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles. “You want me to be okay with it?”

You sigh, reaching up to press your hand against his cheek. “I don’t want you to be anythin’ but who you are, silly haint,” you grumble, bringing him down to meet you. “I like you. But I don’t want forever. I got people who want to see me. People I ain’t seen since I was a child.” You shake your head. “No matta how angry they are, I got family. Ion want that curse you got. Got it?”

He doesn’t answer, kissing you instead. His lips trail down, lower and lower. His continued muttering of “fine, fine.” Soft fingers, calloused but well kept, push your dress up, bunching it around your waist.

“Remmick.”

“Lemme taste ya, at least,” he grumbles, “so when ya gone I always have the memory.”

“Jesus Chr—”

In the middle of the night, Remmick left you with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to return. Eventually.

“Got some things I need to take care of,” he mumbles in his native accent in your ear. Whatever he’s got to take care of, you don’t want to know. You swat him away, grumbling as you bury your face into the pillow and fall back asleep. Something buzzers under your skin when you wake for the day. The hot Mississippi heat, even this far into the year, pooling the sweat on your skin.

You make your usual rounds when you hear it, a voice you haven’t in seven years. He’s in a blue hat, coming out of Annie’s shop with a shaky hand. You rest your hand on your waist and tip your head to the side. “This here Smoke?” Your head tips to the other side. “Or Stack.”

The man before you sighs and it echoes the sigh in your head. Leave that man alone, babeh, your grandmother says. The first words she’s said to you in weeks.

“Smoke it is, then,” you say with a smile. Smoke looks older than his days, eyebrows raised as a baby’s laugh echoes in the air.

“How you know that?” He flicks the cigarette into the ground, stomping it out and Annie shuts the curtain to her shop.

“Grandma gets happy when she hears you,” you say, “what you doin’ here? Thought you was in Chicago.” He nods slowly, walking over to you with measured steps.

“Well, I’m here now, ain’t I?”

“Why?”

He stands in front of you, towering as he always has. A symbol of strength, an immovable object in the face of the heaviness of the world. “Girl c’mere and gimme a hug ‘fore you start interrogatin’ me.”

You do, wrapping your arms around him and sighing. “Missed you.”

He’s quiet and the baby laughs once more. “She missed you, too.” You don’t specify who the she is, but he gets it nonetheless. He sighs, deeply, pulling your face up to check for injuries and tsks.

“Miss you, too, Hummin’bird.”

Smoke doesn’t smile. Not often. You can name on one hand how many times he has. But the look on his face is as close to one as you know he’ll get without prompting. “Annie told me you got a cottage now. ‘S not safe.”

“It’s never safe,” you wave it away, “but ‘m an adult. Been one for the last seven years. Now, where Stack stupid ass at?”

Smoke shakes his head as Annie comes out the shop. “Porlly botherin’ somebody. Hummin’bird, need you to watch the shop for the night.”

“Watch the shop? I was gonna–”

Annie levels you a serious look and you stop. “The twin’s opening a juke. Want me to cook catfish. Ion like leaving the shop that long.” She hands you the key and kisses your head.

“So I ain’t invited?” You say as Smoke opens the door for her and she waves a hand out.

“You want that headache. Hummin’bird?” Her words are said amused, and she half leans out the window. “‘Cause if you want it…”

She got you there. Though Smoke makes a face. It don’t matter how long it’s been, he’s never liked witnessing you in pain or around the wrong type.

“‘S no place for you anyways. ‘S full of sin.”

“Now I’m 25, not 5, Smoke.” You wave a hand out and shake your head to look at Annie. “‘Ll watch the shop. Yall better be back by the morn’, ya hear?”

Something feels wrong as you say it. Something feels final when you wave them goodbye. It’s not until dead in the night you’ll know what it is. It’s not until Stack and Mary that you wished you would’ve gone with them. Maybe then you could’ve made a difference.

#sinners x reader #sinners imagine #sinners #remmick #remmick x reader #remmick sinners #sinners remmick #sinners 2025 #writing #this took me like two months ANYWAYS #writing ; sinners

248 notes · View notes

futbolfatale · 3 months ago

Text

Origin Story: Morning After

Pairing: Alpha Alexia Putellas/Omega Reader, Omega Mapi León/Omega Reader, Alpha Ingred Engen/Omega Reader, Omega Ona Battle/Omega Reader

Summary: You run into Maddie after class luckily Alexia is there to save you.

Okay, maybe going to the after-party was a stupid idea you stumble your way to your 7 am lecture with a pounding headache and an ache in your cunt. You left Mapi’s apartment at 5 and caught a cab to get to your apartment so you could change and get to class on time.

There is no doubt that you reek like them but you didn't have time to shower and get to class on time. Leaving early had the added benefit of avoiding any awkward conversations since they didn’t know where you went to school and you hadn’t exchanged numbers with any of them. Surely they wouldn’t want to see you again after last night. You can’t help but wonder what life would be like if you were with them as unbelievable as that is. How happy you would be if you had always had a special connection to the omegas in your life and this pack has two it's like heaven for you.

Your lectures wrap up about four hours later and you trail out into the hall trying to avoid Maddie like the plague. But her lily and patulio scent hits you like a brick wall making you stop in your tracks. it seems your efforts are for nothing as Maddie rounds the corner walking directly toward you. So of course you like any normal person turn and start speed walking away from her. “Are you seriously running away from me right now?” She growls snatching your wrist. “Oh sorry Maddie I didn’t see you.” you smile fakely at her. “You owe me I can’t believe you just abandoned me at the game you could have at least helped me out” She glances down at her sweats and your eyes naturally follow. “I don’t believe I owe you anything” You try to pull away but her grip stays strong. She pulls your hand to palm her cock through her sweat and you bite back bile.

“Bebita there you are” a voice down the hall calls at you the strong scent of old spice filling the hall. “Oh, so you're a slut just not for me” Maddie spits. “Get your hands off my omega,” Alexia growls she grabs Maddie’s wrist holding it so hard you fear it might snap. “And who do you think you are” Maddie tries to pull away but can’t and a look of fear crosses her face. Alexia just pushes her away and pulls you behind her and out of the school quickly. “How did you know I was here,” You ask as Alexia helps you into her car.

“I made some call Mapi and Ona were so das when They woke up so I promised to come find you and let them tell you how much of a bad girl you are.” She leans across you to buckle your seatbelt and her scent overwhelms you. “Im the bad girl’ you ask slightly annoyed with her. “You left without saying anything. It won’t be safe for you by yourself anymore.” Alexia warns as she pulls out of the parking lot. It hits you that you are in a car with this woman you barely know this is the beginning of every kidnapping. “Maybe I should go” You try to pull on the door but it’s childlocked.

“Wherever you want to go I’ll take you but you can’t go alone.” her eyes never once leave the road as she speaks. “And why can’t I go alone” You say with some bite your scent no doubt turning sour. “The paparazzi will be all over you pictures from the party are all over. Plus I wouldn’t be surprised if my pups were already in you.”She smirks and it makes you want to bite her and not in a sexy way. “I can’t have your pup. I can't have anyone pup im in school full time” You try to open the door again to no avail. “Mapi and Ona can’t have pups till they retire. We need you” Alexia’s voice has turned to a needy whine. “So you want me to be a baby maker”

“No, I want you to be our omega, and pups would be an added bonus. Just see if you like it one week. If you hate it, you can go back to school, and we will leave you alone,” Alexia promises. “ I can’t not go to school; I’ll lose my scholarship.” You are over this whole conversation, but she doesn’t seem to be letting it go. “ I will sponsor your school, please. Just try that's all im asking you.” Alexia looks like a kicked puppy and you can’t kick her again. “Fine one week”.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso #alexia putellas x reader #mapi leon x reader

224 notes · View notes

milesmentis · 1 year ago

Text

As blight and civil war threaten to consume Ferelden, Loghain Mac Tir and Rendon Howe plan their next move.

A part of me was starting to believe that this fic would never see the light of day. If you like fantasy politics, introspective character pieces, and sad old men doing war crimes, I'd really appreciate if you gave it a read. Loghain and Howe are some of the most compelling characters in the franchise to me, and hopefully this fic can shed some light on why.

I was going to post an update for WIP Wednesday and then forgot, but ... I don't think it matters.... because I think ...

??????????????????????

#AT LAST #da fanfic #dao #dragon age fanfiction #loghain mac tir #rendon howe #meanwhile: Team Warden is stuck in the Deep Roads ... no one is having a good time :)

15 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 6 months ago

Text

Unraveled

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Elijah takes you lingerie shopping, with plans to spoil you and savor every second.

♡♡ This is inspired by this anon message I received about Elijah buying you luxurious clothing... this is just pure sugar daddy Elijah wish fufillment ~ enjoy! xo ~ ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smutt, lingerie, light dominance, oral (f!receiving), sugar daddy Elijah, Elijah being fussy, mildly possessive Elijah, lots of banter, a private fashion show, stockings, corsets, babydolls && garter belts...

@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka

@sleepmusicland @chaoticfanpeach @prettyinpinkandblack @brunettebri @aerangi

The air in the room buzzed with anticipation, your reflection in the mirror catching your attention as you fussed with the neckline of your dress.

“We are going to be late if you don’t hurry,” Elijah said, his tone calm but edged with mild impatience. He was waiting by the door, dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit, holding out your jacket to help you put it on. His voice was even, but the tap of his polished shoe betrayed his mood.

“I still can’t believe a lingerie boutique requires an appointment,” you grumbled, checking your appearance one last time in the entryway mirror. The faintest smirk tugged at Elijah’s lips as he watched your reflection fuss.

“The finest experiences always do,” Elijah murmured, stepping closer to rest his hands lightly on your hips. His chin came to rest on your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“You look perfect, as always,” he said, placing a kiss on your cheek before stepping back. The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks warm, a pleasant flutter stirring in your chest.

“If you say so,” you replied, letting him take your hand as you headed out the door.

"I do say so," he insisted, walking around to open the passenger door of his car for you. "I also say we are going to be late. We should have left five minutes ago."

You rolled your eyes at his insistence but hurried to get in the car. He closed the door behind you and quickly got in the driver's seat. The two of you were soon heading down the road. He placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. You smiled and laid your hand over his, threading your fingers through his.

"Is this necessary?" you began, hesitating. "I mean... It's very sweet of you, but isn't it a little..." You trailed off, unsure how to put your thoughts into words.

"It is completely necessary. As my wife, you deserve the finest things life has to offer. Especially when it comes to your attire," Elijah answered, glancing at you before turning his attention back to the road.

"And that includes lingerie?" you asked, arching an eyebrow at him, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He gave a slight nod, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

"It is quite important, yes. There is a difference between wearing a piece of cloth and wearing a piece of art. The latter is what I envision for my beautiful wife." He replied, squeezing your thigh once more.

"So basically, you want me to look pretty for you?" you questioned, trying not to giggle at the sincerity of his words.

"You are always pretty. Even in a paper sack, you are stunning," he answered, his tone soft as he brought your joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand.

"Oh, you are so smooth, Mr. Mikaelson. So very smooth," you said, shaking your head as you grinned at him.

"Only with you, Mrs. Mikaelson," he responded, flashing you his adorable crooked smile before he turned into the parking lot of a high-end shopping mall.

You let out a soft chuckle, rolling your eyes as you watched him find a parking space. Once the car was parked, you went to unbuckle your seatbelt. He was there in a blink of an eye, opening the car door and helping you out. He offered his arm, and you took it, linking your arm through his as the two of you headed toward the store.

When you entered the store, you were met with an employee who immediately took notice of the two of you.

"Mr. and Mrs. Mikaelson! Welcome. It is so good to meet you. We are excited to have the opportunity to help you today," the young woman greeted, her eyes bright as she ushered the two of you over to a large changing room suite with a leather sofa in the middle of the room.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable. We have water, coffee, tea, or champagne for you. Just let me know if there is anything else I can get for you. My name is Marisol," the girl said, gesturing to the table beside the sofa.

"Thank you, Marisol," Elijah said, giving her a charming smile. "Two glasses of champagne, please."

"Of course," she replied, returning his smile.

"Now, why don't you tell us about the collection you've prepared?" Elijah asked, sitting back on the couch, draping his arm around your shoulders.

He was such a natural in this sort of environment. His air of confidence was magnetic, almost disarming.

Marisol launched into a spiel about the latest collections the store had to offer, detailing the styles and fabrics used. She explained the benefits of each item, the best ways to care for them, and the importance of fit. You found yourself relaxing as her thoroughness seemed to match Elijah’s meticulous nature perfectly.

Elijah listened attentively, nodding along with her as he rubbed circles into your lower back. His steady presence grounded you, a subtle reminder that he thrived in moments where you felt unsure. You were thankful he was there because you had no idea where to start. This wasn't your thing, and he knew that.

When she finished speaking, she excused herself to get the items she had preselected for you. She returned with a rack of various styles and colors of lingerie, as well as some nightgowns and robes.

You stood and began to browse, while Marisol hovered close by. Elijah, however, made himself comfortable, taking the glass of champagne Marisol had poured for him and settling back into the couch.

"These are just samples, Mrs. Mikaelson, to give you an idea of the style and feel. Each piece is tailored for our clients, ensuring a perfect fit," Marisol said, giving you a warm smile.

"What do you think about this?" you asked, picking up a pale blue babydoll with a matching thong.

"It's a beautiful color. We also have a matching garter belt if you'd like to try it with stockings," Marisol suggested.

You looked at Elijah, raising an eyebrow. He nodded in approval, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

"I'll leave you two to browse. If you need anything, please let me know," Marisol said, disappearing out the door, closing it behind her.

Elijah watched her go before placing his glass on the table and walking over to where you stood, inspecting the babydoll.

"It's lovely," he murmured, placing his hand on your waist. His fingers skimmed the delicate fabric, testing its softness.

"I didn't know what to expect when you said you wanted to take me lingerie shopping," you said, leaning back into him.

"Well, now you know. And I intend to spoil you rotten," he replied, placing a kiss on your neck.

"Why?" you asked, turning to face him.

"Because I love you and I can," he answered, pulling you closer.

You giggled and shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Is it really that simple?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

"That simple and yet so very complicated," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against yours.

"You're impossible," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"But you love me anyway," he said, giving you a smile. "Now, try on some of these beautiful things for me."

"Bossy," you mumbled, turning away from him.

He swatted your bottom lightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. You squealed in surprise and gave him a playful glare.

The first piece was a pale pink set, the bra made of lace, the panties barely more than a scrap of silk. You stood in front of a giant mirror, watching Elijah's reaction. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. He was silent for a moment, just staring at you, before he walked up behind you. He placed his hands on your hips, gently tugging on the straps of the bra.

"Perfect fit," he murmured, his tone low and approving. His fingers adjusted the straps with the precision of someone entirely too focused, as though inspecting art rather than lingerie.

"Do you think I should get it?" you asked, pressing back against him.

"I think you should get all of it," he replied, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"'Lijah, that's literally thousands of dollars worth of lingerie," you whispered, feeling a flush spread across your cheeks.

"And worth every penny," he answered, his tone matter-of-fact, as though there was no other acceptable response.

You giggled and turned to face him, placing your hands on his chest. "Such a big spender," you teased.

"Only for the woman I love," he said, leaning down to capture your lips.

The kiss was soft and slow, his hands roaming your body, gently tugging on the fabric of the lingerie. He pulled back and smiled at you, his eyes bright with mischief.

"Now, show me more,"

It had been around a week since your delightful shopping trip. Elijah had insisted on buying you the whole collection, despite your protests. But secretly, you had enjoyed having him dote on you. It made you feel loved and cherished.

Now, the two of you were spending a lazy afternoon together, lounging on the couch. Elijah was reading, while you were cuddled up against his side, watching TV. It was a rare day where he was dressed casually, in a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt. But even his casual clothes were expensive and well tailored.

He had an arm wrapped around you, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hip. The gentle motion was relaxing and you found yourself starting to drift off.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, jolting you from your near sleep state. You looked up to see Elijah smirking down at you, a knowing twinkle in his dark eyes.

"I think our order has finally arrived," he said, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

"Orders," you corrected, giggling as he rolled his eyes.

"Semantics," he grumbled, placing a kiss to the top of your head as he rose to his feet.

He disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone. You sat up, stretching your arms above your head, a small yawn escaping your lips.

You could hear Elijah's deep voice mingling with the delivery man's. They were talking about the weather and other trivial things, making small talk.

Elijah reappeared a few minutes later, carrying a number or large boxes, stacked neatly in his arms.

"Looks like we got a bit carried away," he said, a smirk pulling at his lips as he placed the boxes on the coffee table.

"Maybe just a little," you replied, laughing softly.

He grinned and leaned down to kiss your cheek, before he opened the first box, pulling out the contents. You watched as he inspected the fabric, the soft material running through his fingers.

"Beautiful stitching, they don't make garments like this anymore," he commented.

He continued in this way, inspecting each piece carefully. His brow furrowed as he ran his fingers along the seams, testing the strength of the fabric.

You couldn't help but laugh, finding his intense focus on something as simple as lingerie adorable. He glanced at you, a hint of a smile playing at his lips, but continued with his task.

"Do you want me to try it on for you?" You asked, biting your lip to keep from giggling.

"Darling, why do you think I bought it for you?" He asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.

You giggled and shook your head, standing and grabbing the closest box. You took it with you, heading to the bedroom, the sound of his soft chuckle echoing behind you.

Once in the bedroom, you quickly stripped down and picked out the first piece that caught your eye, a deep green babydoll. The color was striking, complementing your complexion, and the fabric felt like liquid silk against your fingertips.

You slid the straps over your shoulders and adjusted the cups. The hem fell to just above your thighs, and the neckline was cut low enough to give him a good view.

You admired your reflection, twisting and turning to get a better look at the lingerie. The soft, delicate fabric felt incredible against your skin. It was unlike anything you'd ever worn before. Each stitch seemed to whisper luxury, and for a moment, you forgot about the price tag, lost in the sensation of feeling both elegant and utterly desirable.

A low whistle echoed through the room, causing you to turn around. Elijah was leaning against the doorframe, a crooked smile on his handsome face.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his dark eyes raking over your body.

"You don't look so bad yourself," you said, smirking at him.

"Why thank you, darling," he replied, sauntering over to you.

He placed his hands on your waist, gently turning you around so that you were facing the mirror again.

"This could be adjusted though," he murmured, tugging on a piece of fabric.

"What do you mean?" You asked, frowning at his reflection.

"Just a bit loose here," he answered, adjusting the straps.

"You are so picky," you teased, grinning at him.

"My tailor could probably-" He started, but you cut him off.

"Nope, no tailor. It's perfect," you protested, turning to face him.

"Are you sure?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Positive," you replied, leaning up to place a soft kiss to his lips.

You splayed your hands on his chest, pushing him backward toward the bed. He smirked, his hands resting on your hips. When the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, he sat down, looking up at you.

"Sit and watch. No touching," you commanded, smirking as he nodded and obeyed.

You stepped back, turning around so that he could get a full view. You swayed your hips, teasing him, before slowly bending down. You grabbed the hem of your panties and slowly dragged them down, exposing your bare bottom to him.

You heard a soft groan from behind you and glanced over your shoulder, smirking at him.

"Which one do you want me to try on next?" you asked, biting your lip as you stood up, turning to face him.

"The white one," he murmured, his gaze heated as he watched you.

You sauntered over to the boxes and picked out the white corset. With his eyes glued to you, you slipped the garment on, the lace covering your breasts, the silk ribbon criss-crossing your torso. You tightened the ribbons, the corset squeezing your breasts and waist.

This piece also came with stockings, so you took your time, rolling the sheer white material up your legs, clipping them to the matching garter belt. Then you slipped on some white heels to complete the look.

Elijah’s sharp inhale was almost imperceptible, but the intensity in his gaze gave him away.

"I think this is my favorite," Elijah mused, his dark eyes raking over your body appreciatively.

"I can tell," you teased, glancing at the growing bulge in his pants.

He smiled and rose to his feet, walking over to you. His warm hands skimmed over the smooth material, his fingers deftly tightening the ribbons in the front. The way he handled you and the corset was equal parts calculated and reverent, as if you were a piece of art he was refining.

"I confess... I have a certain affinity for corsets," he murmured, his voice low. There was something almost wistful in his tone, as though the sight of you had awakened a long-buried memory or desire.

"Oh, I know," you replied, smirking as he pulled the ribbons tighter, making your breasts spill out the top.

His eyes darkened further, a flicker of hunger crossing his features. He hummed appreciatively, his lips ghosting over the swell of your breast. The heat of his breath was a promise, igniting sparks that danced along your skin.

"This one is perfect," he said, his breath warm against your skin.

"Glad you think so," you whispered, shivering as his lips trailed up your neck.

Elijah's hands continued their slow exploration, his thumbs skimming the delicate lace covering your thighs. You leaned into his touch, breath hitching as he pulled you closer. His lips brushed over your collarbone, featherlight and teasing, before his mouth found your ear.

“I’m beginning to think this delicate fabric might be too fragile for what I have in mind,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You smirked, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “And here I thought you liked to savor things.”

He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest.

"Oh, I do. But I occasionally like to devour," he said, his teeth nipping at your neck.

Your breath hitched, his words sending a rush of heat straight to your core.

"Then why don't you start?" You challenged, arching an eyebrow at him.

His dark eyes flashed with desire, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. Suddenly, he lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder, the action causing you to shriek with surprise and your heels to fall off.

His hands rested firmly on your ass, kneading and massaging the soft flesh as he carried you to the bed. You couldn’t help but laugh, squirming against him as he playfully smacked your bottom.

He placed you gently onto the bed, his eyes roaming over your body. You looked up at your handsome husband, his hair falling in his face, his eyes dark with desire.

You reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down toward you. Your lips met in a heated kiss, and his hands moved underneath you, cradling your lower back and pulling you closer.

You slid your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. He groaned softly, pressing his forehead against yours. The weight of his body pressed into yours felt grounding, his strength wrapping around you like a shield.

You tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Your hands traced his bare chest, and down his arms. The muscles underneath your touch were hard and powerful, his skin smooth and warm. Even after years of being together, you always marveled at his strength and the power contained in his body.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to not touch you as I watched you try on all those gorgeous pieces? Watching your face as you put on each garment... My patience is running thin," he groaned, the roughness in his voice making you whimper.

"I recall you doing lots of touching," you murmured, giggling softly.

"That's not what I meant, darling," he growled, his fingers hooking into the edge of your corset.

"Oh? Then what did you mean, Mr. Mikaelson?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

His hands tightened on the garment, and you saw the threads start to pull away from the seams. You couldn't believe he would actually rip it off, not after all the fussing and adjusting he had done earlier.

You watched the material tear under his fingers, a gasp of shock escaping your lips. His hands tore the corset apart, spitting the expensive garment like tissue, exposing your naked breasts to the cool air of the room.

"Did you really spend a thousand dollars on something that you planned on tearing?" You asked, smirking up at him.

"Two thousand," he replied, leaning down to nip at your neck.

You giggled, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way down to your breasts. He nipped at your nipple before taking it in his mouth, sucking and biting, drawing a soft moan from you.

His hands slid up your thighs, fingers brushing against the soft material of the stockings. His gaze flickered over to your legs, admiring the way the delicate fabric stretched across your curves. He had always loved the way a women looked in stockings, the way the sheer material clung to their thighs, accentuating every delicious inch of skin. But seeing you, his wife, wrapped in them... Well, he didn't think he would ever tire of that view.

"Such beautiful legs," he murmured, his hands skimming along your calves before resting on the inside of your thighs.

His eyes met yours as his thumbs brushed over your silk panties, rubbing gentle circles over your clit. He grinned at the way your face flushed, watching your eyelashes flutter as his fingers pushed them to the side. He teased your wet heat, circling your entrance before easing two fingers inside, pumping slowly.

A low growl rumbled in his throat when he felt you clench around his fingers. The way your thighs squeezed together made him desperate for more, made him crave the feeling of you wrapped around his cock.

"I love it when you squirm like that," he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips.

He kissed you hard and deep, his tongue sweeping across yours. You let out a soft protest as he pulled his fingers away, only to feel him push them into your mouth, coating your tongue with your arousal.

Your eyes met his, your heart hammering in your chest at the feral gleam in his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, the dark irises nearly swallowing the amber. Rarely did this rough, dominating side of him make an appearance, but when it did, it took your breath away.

You whimpered when his fingers left your mouth, watching him decide what to do next. Your breathing hitched as he hooked a finger around your panties, pulling the soaked fabric away from your skin.

There was a tearing sound and you gasped when he ripped them from your body. He grinned at your surprised expression, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

You giggled as he tossed your panties over his shoulder, but the sound quickly turned into a squeal as his hands went to your hips before flipping you onto your stomach.

His hands traced the curves of your ass before moving between your thighs, fingers trailing up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. Your hips rocked against him, seeking more of his touch. You couldn't help the breathless moans escaping your lips, or the way your body shivered in anticipation.

His lips ghosted over your skin, placing wet open-mouthed kisses along the column of your spine, moving lower and lower. Your hands curled into the sheets at the feeling of his tongue dipping in-between your cheeks.

He groaned at the taste of you, somehow made sweeter when you were clad in silk. He reached up and pushed your head down into the sheets, holding you in place, the way the bed sheets muffled your moans driving him wild.

Your mind went blank when he plunged his tongue inside of you, lapping up your wetness. He growled as he licked you clean, his grip on you tightening when you tried to squirm away, desperate for friction against your throbbing clit.

Suddenly, he smacked your ass, causing you to gasp and jump slightly. The sharp sting was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hand as he massaged your bottom. His thumb pressed against your clit, causing you to let out a soft sob of relief.

The pleasure was quickly becoming unbearable, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to send you over the edge. The sensation was overwhelming, your mind reeling and your body shaking from the intensity of the sensation.

You let out a low, shuddering moan as you came, your whole body quivering beneath his hands. Your breathing was ragged as you rode out your orgasm, your toes curling, thighs clenching together as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

When he finally stopped, you collapsed against the sheets, spent and breathless. You whimpered when you felt his lips brush against your ear.

"That was just an appetizer, darling," he whispered, the deep tone of his voice making your stomach flutter.

You could hear him unzip his pants, then the sound of fabric rustling as he kicked off his jeans. You turned to look at him, catching a glimpse of his hard, thick length before he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto all fours.

You both let out a soft sigh of relief as your bodies joined, his thick cock stretching you as he filled you completely. He rocked his hips, his movements slow yet firm, enjoying the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him.

He held you in place as he thrust deep inside you, his grip on your hips bruising. His hand coming down to smack your ass again and again, and the sound was music to his ears, causing his pace to quicken.

"I'm going to ruin every single piece I bought for you, sweetheart," he growled, his fingers digging into your skin. "Then we can go back and buy some more. Would you like that?"

"Yes, 'Lijah," you gasped, gripping the sheets tightly.

You moaned as he increased the pace, his movements becoming faster and harder, sending you crashing over the edge. He grunted as your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, making him see stars.

The room filled with the sounds of his grunts and your moans, the scent of sex heavy in the air. It was intoxicating, the way he moved, the way he controlled your body and the rhythm of his thrusts.

"I'm close, baby," he groaned, his voice strained. "I want you to cum with me."

He pulled you up, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against his chest. His lips ghosted over your shoulder, his fangs sinking into your neck, his bite a pleasurable pain that pushed you over the edge.

He growled as you came, the taste of your blood driving him wild and he swiftly followed.

You were both still panting, his chest pressed against your back, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

He hummed softly, kissing your neck tenderly. His hands smoothed down your sides, his touch featherlight as he trailed his fingers across the lace trim.

"This lingerie really is quite exquisite," he murmured, his tone reverent.

"It really is," you agreed, giggling softly.

You relaxed against him, his body molded perfectly to yours. He gently helped you to your feet, before scooping you up and carrying you to the bathroom.

He turned on the water, letting it heat up as he peeled the remaining garments from your body, admiring each piece as he went.

Once the steam filled the room, he pulled you into the shower, the warm water cascading over both of you.

"Next time, we should go suit shopping," you mused, smiling up at him.

"Is that so?" He asked, grinning down at you.

"Mmm-hmm. You like me in stockings? I like you in a three-piece suit. A nice, tailored one," you purred, biting your lip.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. "Do you plan on tearing it off of me?"

"Maybe," you said, giggling as he pressed you against the tile.

"I suppose we'll just have to see, won't we?" He teased, smirking down at you.

"I suppose we will," you replied, grinning up at him.

You could hardly wait.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #elijah mikealson smut

363 notes · View notes

lacydaydream · 2 months ago

Text

Letters To My Baby Girl

cw: nothing! just dean being a sweet n sentimental girl dad

estelle yaps: dean my beloved. this is a collection of letters dean would write to his daughter on her birthday! i got this idea from the amazing book Beach Read by emily henry. read it, it will change your life.

wc: 1.3K

Dear baby girl,

Today is the day you made me the happiest man in the world. You’ve got ten tiny toes, two bright eyes, ten perfect fingers, and the cutest little nose I’ve ever seen. And even if you didn’t- even if you had none of those things- you’d still be the most perfect girl to ever exist. No contest.

You fit right in the palm of my hand. When I held you for the first time, when I felt how small and breakable and precious you were, I cried. Didn’t stand a chance.

I knew you were coming. I knew it for months. Uncle Sam and I spent weeks working on your nursery. We had no idea we were signing up for the most important job of our lives- building a space that made your mama smile and still felt cool enough to be ours. So yeah, that’s why you’ve got both Winnie the Pooh stuffed animals and a Zeppelin record hanging on your wall. You’ll understand someday. Or maybe you won’t- but that’s okay, too.

Still, it didn’t feel real until they handed you to me. Not after the long hours of labor. Not after all the words that flew out of your mama’s mouth when things got tough. It was you- pink and new and naked to the world and all its ugliness- that made it hit me. You were something to protect. Someone to protect.

You’re a someone. You’re going to grow into a someone. That blows my mind.

Today is the day you made me a father. Today is the start of the long road where I get to watch you grow into the woman I already know you’ll become. Even now, as I’m writing this and watching you and your mama nap together, it brings me more joy than I know what to do with.

Right now, I know everything about you. You don’t know a thing about me. So I’m writing this for you- a way for you to know who I was before I was just “Dad.”

Hi, I’m Dean Winchester. Your dad. Not that you’ll ever call me anything else.

It’s November 3rd. And today? Today is the best damn day of my life.

・・・・・

My girl,

You’re a year old today.

I’m sitting here thinking about all the adventures we’ve had this year. The hours we spent figuring out what your mama calls “tummy time.” The late nights you and I stayed up, learning the words to the greatest songs ever written. The times you had my back and peed on your uncle- by the way, kid, that was awesome. And your first steps. Your first “Da.”

And all the times I had to leave to fight the monsters in the world.

That part broke my heart. Every single time.

It feels like I missed so much. If I count it up, it’s probably only a month out of your first year. Doesn’t matter. Feels like too much. Feels like I blinked and lost something I can’t get back.

You and your mama are the best gifts this life’s ever handed me. And even though I hate leaving, I take pride in knowing that when I do, it’s to make the world just a little safer for my girls. That’s what keeps me going. That’s what gets me home.

You’ve got my eyes, kid- those big green ones that make me hand over ice cream when your mama’s not looking, and let you babble your way out of naps. But you’ve got her smile. The brightest damn smile I’ve ever seen. Brighter than the sun, no contest. Right now, your hair’s this sandy blonde. Everyone’s betting it’ll turn brown, but me? I kind of hope it stays just like this.

Who am I today?

I’m the hands that help you climb those weird jungle gym contraptions at the park down the road. I’m the guy trying (and probably failing) to get you to eat peas for the first time.

・・・・・

Happy second birthday, kiddo!

You’re getting so tall. And your hair’s darkened up since last year. Your mama says you look like her sister, but me? I think you look like my mother.

I just know she would’ve loved you.

Someday, when you’re older, we’ll take over the kitchen together. We’ll roll up our sleeves and try to make the cherry pie she used to bake for me. Maybe we’ll nail it. Maybe we’ll make a mess of the whole thing. Either way, it’ll be ours.

・・・・・

Today you’re four.

Cas brought you a kitten. Do you remember what you named that white ball of fluff? Lady. Because you and your mama have been watching that Disney movie with the fancy cats-The Aristocats, I think. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re growing into your own little person, figuring out how you see the world.

You love pie. You think your mama’s the most beautiful woman on the planet (I agree). You think Uncle Sam should get a haircut (I definitely agree).

And kid, you share better than most grown-ups I know. If we’re sneaking cookies late at night, you’ll march straight down the bunker hall waking everyone up to ask if they want one too. You don’t stand for crap, either. We were at the park this week- some kid was being mean to his little brother, and you walked right over and gave him a piece of your mind. Like a true Winchester.

I’m so damn proud of you. Every single day.

My dad never told me that growing up. So I make sure I tell you every chance I get.

・・・・・

My little princess,

I raised my voice at you for the first time this year. And I’m so damn sorry.

See, that’s what I grew up with. Your granddad- the guy you see in those old pictures- he was a tough man. Ran a tight ship. If me or your uncle messed up, he’d yell loud enough to shake the walls. For hours sometimes.

I promised myself I’d never do that to you. And I broke that promise.

Truth is, kiddo, I was scared out of my mind. Somehow- we’re still not sure how- you got your hands on one of my guns. The second I saw you holding it, my heart just dropped. I’d never felt fear like that before.

I yelled. You dropped it. Nothing bad happened, thank God.

But that night, I cried. Right there in your mama’s arms. We both did.

She told me something I won’t ever forget- kids don’t come with manuals. You get dropped into our lives, and we’re just supposed to figure it out as we go. We make mistakes- sometimes big ones. But we learn, and we get better.

Now every single weapon, even the knives I once thought were fine, is locked up tight. Where they always should’ve been.

I’m here to protect you, kiddo. Always. That’ll never change.

・・・・・

10 years old.

Kid, I can’t believe it. Ten whole years.

Every day you’re growing, learning, testing the limits. You used to fit in the palm of my hand- tucked right against my side in what we used to call the Dean Cave. Guess it’s the Dad Cave now.

I’m sitting here, just thinking about how far we’ve come. You’ve been in my life for a decade. Ten years of the best damn moments I’ve ever had. Ten years of watching you figure this crazy world out- piece by piece, question by question.

You amaze me every single day. The way you think. The way you stand up for what’s right. The way you don’t back down, even when it’s hard. You’ve got more guts and heart than most people twice your size.

I feel like I never say it enough. But, I’m so proud of you kiddo. Always.

Love,

Dad.

divider by muruffin

estelle yaps some more: my requests are open! join my taglist here

#jensen ackles #𝜗𝜚 estelle writing #dean winchester #dean supernatural #spn #spnfandom #fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #sam and dean #sam winchester #girl dad dean #dean #my writing #dean fanfiction #jensen fucking ackles #letters

92 notes · View notes

uceyliyahh · 2 months ago

Text

GUARDED

summary: Genesis has been protecting her heart ever since she filed for divorce and didn’t want to be in another relationship until he came around and changed her mind.

this fanfic is 18+ NO MINORS ALLOWED

warnings contain: emotional abuse, divorce, depression, mention of guns, masturbaiton, unprotected sex, breeding,

word count: 8.3k

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

smut warning: it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I am improving at the moment

Jimmy Uso x Genesis

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

thanks to my friend @charmed-dreamssss for helping me with the title 🫶🏽

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @prettyfilmz @sharmelasworld @spiicii @formulafortyfour @theusotwinzcom @mingisfavgf

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @mjonthetrack

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @shanthefemalerapper @bloodlineslut @bookuce @sheaabuttaababyy @li-da-savage @luvrsluxe

𝞽𝞴𝙞𝞬𝞽𝞮𝞮𝞰

𝜣𝒎𝜼𝒊𝒔𝝇𝒊𝜺𝜼𝝉

gigispovv has posted on their story!

jonathanfatu replied to your story: it’s your world baby I’m just living in it with you, my ride or die 🩷

americannightmarecody replied to your story: JIMMY YOU BETTER TAKE CARE OF GIGI

biancabelairwwe replied to your story: omggg this man be dicking you down and buys you flowers? Ouuu girl

jadecargill replied to your story: GET MARRIED ALREADY PLEASE

jackieredmond replied to your story: so when is the wedding? 💒

uceyjucey replied to your story: he be taking you everywhere but complain when I ask him to take me to the gas station to get something to roll up some weed 🙄🙄

carmelohayes replied to your story: tell him it’s on sight when I see him and his bitch ass twin brother

trinity_fatu replied to your story: I fucking hate the both of you

Atlanta, Georgia - 5:30PM

Genesis and Jimmy took a weekend trip to her hometown, eager for him to finally meet her parents. Despite their hectic schedules, they carved out precious time to reconnect, especially since it had been quite a while since she last saw them.

As Jimmy navigated the road from the driver's seat, his free hand tenderly brushed against Genesis's thigh, a gentle gesture amidst the tension of their journey to her parents' home. She couldn't shake the anxiety that bubbled within her, worried that her family might not accept him.

As they arrived for the barbecue that evening, she felt a wave of hope wash over her. Jimmy parked the car and switched off the engine, then stepped out first, striding towards Genesis' door to open it for her.

As she exited the car, she expressed her gratitude to him while he closed the door. Their fingers intertwined, they could hear the pulsating music emanating from within the house. Together, they approached her parents' door and knocked firmly, both of them standing there eagerly awaiting a response.

As they waited, Genesis applied her lip gloss, attempting to soothe her anxiousness, when she suddenly felt Jimmy's hand wrap around her waist, drawing her nearer to him.

“You nervous mamas relax.” Jimmy whispered.

“I’m more worried for you than myself, be aware that my older brother will ask you questions including my father.” Genesis replied.

“Don’t worry baby, I know they’ll love me.” At that moment, the door swung open to reveal her older brother Jacari, grinning widely with a red cup in hand, as he looked down at his little sister.

“Gigi! Momma Gigi’s home!” Jacari hollered as he pulled his little sister in for a hug.

At that moment, he noticed Jimmy standing there, patiently waiting while Jacari smiled and gently dabbed him during their embrace, prompting Genesis to observe the two of them.

“You must be Jonathan right? Gigi doesn’t shut up about you dawg.” He said teasing his little sister.

“Oh? She doesn’t don’t she?” Genesis let out a weary sigh, realizing that tonight would stretch on endlessly, especially with these two jokers around. As she stepped into the house, she found everyone gathered in the kitchen, some sipping drinks while others were lounging in the front room, puffing on a blunt.

In that moment, she spotted her mother and aunt rushing towards her, enveloping her in a warm embrace before stepping back to marvel at how much their little girl had grown.

“My dearest! Welcome home, sorry for the chaos in here.” Mrs Porter said.

She chuckled at her mother, “it’s all good mama, there’s someone I wanted you to meet if that’s okay.”

“Of course dear.” At that moment, she spotted a towering figure, 6'3" tall, standing beside Genesis, a smile gracing his face as he intertwined his fingers with hers. “Mama this is my boyfriend Jonathan and Jonathan this is my mother you can call her Mrs Porter.”

Jimmy took his hand out, “nice to finally meet you Mrs Porter.” Her mother was taken aback to find her daughter with a man who was even more attractive than Quincy—she greeted him with a smile and a firm handshake.

“Gigi dear you didn’t tell me that he was handsome, nice to meet you son in law.” Genesis's eyes widened in surprise as her mother spoke, causing her cheeks to flush with color.

Then her auntie chimed in, “he’s better looking than Quincy ass I tell you that.” Jimmy laughed as he watched Genesis blush fiercely while she accepted the compliment.

Genesis' mother had whisked Jimmy away, eager to learn more about him and his intentions toward her daughter, leaving Genesis standing there like a forlorn puppy until her brother approached from behind.

“You want a drink sis?” Jacari asked.

She looked up at him, “yeah sure.” With a cheerful wave to familiar faces from high school and the neighborhood, she trailed behind her brother into the kitchen.

She rested her arms on the kitchen counter, watching her brother as he prepared a Jack Daniel’s cocktail. With a smile, she took the drink from his hand and savored a sip.

“So where did you find him Gigi?”

“We work together and be on the road together 24/7 Cari but my best friend Cody introduced me to him and his twin brother when I first started.” She took another sip of her drink.

Jacari nodded his head, “he the one? because I remember when you said that about Quincy and look what happened so are you certain that he’s the one?” Genesis felt a deep certainty that Jimmy was her soulmate. He had openly expressed his desire to marry her and start a family, a promise that many men make insincerely, yet there was something genuine in Jimmy's declarations.

“Yes, I’m certain that he’s the one. He takes good care of me Cari and plus he’s fucking crazy he would kill his cousin and Quincy over me.”

Jacari nearly sputtered on his drink, coughing loudly as Genesis softly patted his back. He reassured her, saying he was okay. "Is he really trying to hit on you?" Genesis was suddenly flooded with memories of Zilla's assault, a haunting experience she wished to forget. She didn't want to burden her older brother or mother with her fears until the trial began.

So she had to lie.

“Yeah, and he didn’t like that. Honestly a bunch of guys at my job is tryna holla at me and I just ignore them they’re so desperate to get some coochie brother let me tell you.” Genesis said.

Jacari chuckled at her while shaking his head, “damn I didn’t know my little sis got it like that, you must think you grown now huh?” She playfully elbowed her older brother, just like they used to do in their childhood whenever he would tease her about something. “Boy shut up I never said that.”

She longed for the moments spent with her family, and being surrounded by them filled her with happiness. Watching Jimmy toss the football to her little cousins made her heart soar with delight.

“You seen pops?” She asked.

“Yeah, he outside cooking on the grill. He was looking for you.” He responded. With that, she stepped out into the backyard, where a handful of people mingled, accompanied by the nostalgic sounds of 90s music. Her gaze swept across the scene, landing on her stepfather who was grilling and savoring the tunes that filled the air.

With a radiant smile, she approached him, playfully tapping his shoulder, prompting him to turn and discover his little girl beaming at him.

“Gigi! My babygirl! I didn’t know you were here!” Mr Porter Exclaimed.

“Cari said you were looking for me but here I am.” Genesis replied as She and her stepfather hugged each other tightly.

“I missed you so much Gigi, we were hoping to see you since I know your schedule has been hectic.” Genesis and her stepfather stepped back, allowing him to fully appreciate the sight of his stepdaughter, now transformed into a confident and self-sufficient woman. “Yeah, we were able to enjoy the weekend off.”

Her stepfather arched an eyebrow at her, questioning, 'We? Who exactly is this 'we,' Gigi?' She glanced over at Jimmy, who was busy tossing the football with her younger cousins.

“Is that the man you’ve been raving about to your mother?”

She nodded her head, “yes, that’s my boyfriend right there he’s a good man papa. he takes care of me.”

Her father was turning the burgers and hotdogs on the grill before he began to speak.

“Well I need to meet this young man that’s been taking care of my precious stepdaughter.” She smiled as she went towards Jimmy’s direction.

As Jimmy spotted Genesis approaching, he tossed the football back to her cousin, all the while keeping his focus on her.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” Jimmy asked.

“My pops wants to meet you—I hope you’re ready and I’m sorry about my mother, she's so clingy.” Genesis said.

“It’s all good mama I know where you get it from now and she’s a sweet lady.” Genesis beamed at him as she led him toward her stepfather, who was busy grilling the food.

Her stepfather gazed at the tall man beside his stepdaughter, clearly impressed by her choice. "Well, Gigi, you certainly didn’t mention he was such a dashing young man. It's a pleasure to meet you, son; I'm her stepfather."

They shook hands firmly before hugging each other.

“Nice to meet you too Mr Porter.” As she made her way back into the house to fetch another drink from the kitchen, she allowed the two of them to converse. Suddenly, she heard a whistling sound coming from behind her.

As she pivoted, her gaze locked with Darrius, her high school crush—a football star and notorious heartbreaker. She let out a heavy sigh before shutting the fridge door.

As she cracked open a can of twisted tea, she took a refreshing sip before leaning back against the kitchen counter. She noticed him approaching with open arms, attempting to embrace her, but she playfully pushed him away, proudly displaying the double band ring that Jimmy had gifted her.

“Oh? So since you got a new nigga now you wanna act brand new Gigi?” Darrius said.

“Boy please if you don’t get the fuck out my face for real Darrius.” Genesis replied.

He was with his homeboys scoffing at her trying to be all cool and shit in front of them.

“Look she tryna act brand new and shit because got a new nigga yall like she didn’t want this back in high school.”

Genesis rolled her eyes at him, “nigga you was all over me tryna holla at me knowing your repretation so don’t fucking play with me D.” She continued on. “And why is yo’ ass bringing up old shit anyways? Just a weirdo.”

Darrius shrugged his shoulders, “I mean shit, a nigga tryna holla at you shawty. You glowing baby girl looking all good and shit.” Now she felt very uncomfortable with this conversation because she had the same issues with Carmelo at work not until Jimmy knocked his head off at his hotel room.

“Now yo’ ass just being desperate it’s always the desperate niggas tryna holla at a taken girl.” She retorted while folding her arm over her chest while holding up her drink. “It’s not like yo’ nigga is around to stop me so.”

Genesis wore a mischievous grin, shaking her head as she realized Darrius would soon regret his words, fully aware of how unpredictable and reckless Jimmy could be, especially since her brother despised Darrius just as much.

“I would be careful with my words dear, I could call him in an instant and he’ll show up so you better keep it pushing if I were you, my nigga is crazyyy.” She bragged.

He chuckled at her, “maneee ain’t nobody scared of that bitch ass nigga. I’ll put a bullet to his head. Lemme just get yo’ number Gigi.” What was with these men tryna get at her for? Knowing she’s taken.

“Yeah, no I’m gonna have to decline that offer. My man wouldn’t like that.” Genesis savored another sip of her twisted tea, her eyes fixed on Darrius. She had no intention of indulging him or his foolish antics, believing he could charm his way into acquiring her number.

She locked eyes with Jimmy and Jacari, who were chatting outside, and gestured for them to come inside. Meanwhile, Darrius took out his phone, trying to hand it to Genesis, but she once more turned him down. “C’mon baby girl lemme have yo’ number so we can talk you know.”

At that moment, a deep voice echoed, sending chills racing down his spine. Turning to his left, he spotted Jimmy and Jacari, their faces set in a serious expression.

Darrius was unaware that the towering 6'3" Samoan man was her boyfriend, as he approached her from behind, encircling her waist and planting a kiss on her neck.

“You good mamas? Do I need to embarrass someone this evening or what?” Jimmy asked, staring down at Darrius.

She shook her head, “no, I’m good baby. Just wanted to remind a certain person that I’m taken so they can get it through their thick skulls.” She smirked at Darrius who was furious.

“This yo’ nigga Gigi? I mean damn one good of an upgrade from your last one but I know this ain’t finna last just like that marriage of yours.” Darrius clapped back.

In that moment, the atmosphere shifted to a hushed stillness, as if a mouse had entered the room, with everyone locked in a silent showdown of glances. Yet, Genesis remained unfazed, confident in her recent transformation and the presence of a good man by her side.

She chuckled at him while giving her can to Jimmy—she had time this evening.

Jimmy was ready to pounce on him but Genesis held him back, “and nigga what that gotta do with you? Don’t you got an std from one of the girls you been fucking? How about you start getting that fixed instead of worrying about what I got desperate bitch.”

She noticed his expression shift to something unfamiliar as the gossip swirled around them.

“You bitch.” At that moment, Darrius attempted to confront Genesis, but Jacari and Jimmy swiftly drew their glocks in unison, aiming them at him and his crew.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow at Darrius giving him a stern expression on his face, “you might wanna back up playa. this mine right here and ion play about her so you better watch the fuck out.” Jimmy warned him.

“Man, fuck yo—“ With a swift motion, Jimmy cocked his gun, his thumb aimed directly at Darrius's head, as he yanked him up by the hem of his hoodie, locking eyes with him in a piercing gaze that seemed to penetrate his very soul.

“You wanna die play boy? Or you wanna live? your choice.” Everyone was taken aback by Jimmy's extreme protectiveness over Genesis; even her brother couldn't believe it.

Darrius raised his hands in a protective gesture as Jimmy pulled the gun away from his forehead, tucking it back into his jeans before releasing him. He adjusted his hoodie and made his way back towards Genesis, keeping her safely by his side.

“You might wanna get out of here Darrius before he actually fucking kills you.” Jacari said, keeping his gun pointed at them.

Darrius licked his lips in anticipation, quickly gathering his belongings as he and his friends exited the house—slamming the front door behind them while Jacari tucked his gun back into his shorts and secured the lock.

He glanced over his shoulder at his sister and Jimmy, who had his arm wrapped around her waist as he approached them, playfully teasing Jimmy.

“Thank you for protecting my little sister, that fool been tryna get at her.” He said.

“You know I got Gigi dawg, imma protect her for sure.” Jimmy responded after noticing Genesis yawning and rubbing her eyes.

“You tired baby?” She glanced up at him while nodding her head.

“A’ight then dawg imma take this little lady upstairs so she could sleep and we’ll finish talking.” With that, Jimmy lifted Genesis in her bridal style and ascended the stairs, making his way to one of the guest rooms in her mother's house.

He softly nudged the door open and stepped inside, carefully placing Genesis on the bed. As he removed her jacket and shoes, he set them aside in the room, then wrapped her in blankets to keep her warm against the evening chill.

He lowers himself to her height, gently pressing his lips against hers, captivated by her sleepy smile as she tenderly strokes his cheek.

“Don’t be gone for too long, I want you up here with me.” Genesis said in a soft tone.

He smiled at her clinginess before placing a kiss on the palm of her hand.

“I’ll be back mamas, just get some sleep okay?” Jimmy responded as he got up from kneeling.

Genesis let out a yawn, stretching her limbs as she settled into the bed, while Jimmy made his way out the door, rejoining the others downstairs.

—

As Jimmy relaxed in the backyard chair, savoring his beer, he noticed Jacari approaching with a chilled brew in hand. With a friendly gesture, Jacari offered it to him. Jimmy, not one to refuse a cold drink, accepted it and set it beside him, taking another sip from his own beer.

Jacari retrieved a blunt he had meticulously rolled, igniting it with his lighter. He took a few deep puffs before handing it over to Jimmy. As soon as Jimmy grasped it, he inhaled a few times, exhaling clouds of smoke into the air as the effects began to wash over him, before returning it to Jacari.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in stunning hues, the atmosphere buzzed with laughter and music. People were either savoring their meals or twirling joyfully on the dance floor outside. In that moment, Jimmy felt a warm sense of belonging with his family, a feeling he never anticipated experiencing with Genesis's family as well.

Jacari begins to say something, “you cool as fuck Jonathan no bullshit.” He said.

“I appreciate it dawg, this was nice.” Jimmy replied with a smile on his face.

The air was heavy as the wind rustled through the trees, and Jimmy inhaled deeply from the blunt, exhaling the smoke through his nose this time.

“You love my sister? I mean I’ve been protecting her ever since we were little, especially from his bitch ass.” He mentioned Quincy.

Jimmy to another sip of his beer before speaking, “Yeah, I love Gigi with all of my heart dawg. Your sister is like everything I needed.” He continued. “And I had to shoot his stupid ass put him in the hospital.”

Jacari's eyes widened in shock at Jimmy's words, nearly causing him to sputter his drink again. "Wait, are you serious about my little sister? I can't say I blame you, though; that guy has been acting strange ever since they tied the knot, and things only got weirder after she divorced him."

He gave a firm nod, saying, "Absolutely, that's my ride or die, Uce. I won't let anything happen to her." Jacari recognized Jimmy's protective instincts, having grown up as Genesis's guardian himself, often confronting boys who dared to bother her or express unwanted interest. It was clear to him why Jimmy felt so strongly about her.

“I understand fasho, how long y'all staying in Atlanta? I know yalls schedules are hectic.”

“Probably for the weekend since we gotta head to another city Monday.”

“y'all staying in a hotel down here? cuz our mama would let y'all stay.”

Jimmy informed Jacari about their weekend hotel plans, but mentioned that it would be great if her mother allowed them to stay here instead, especially since their luggage was in the rental car.

“I’m pretty sure our mama would let yall stay, especially since yall been traveling so much lately.” He said. “But lemme’ ask you this uce cuz I know my pops is gonna ask the same thing.”

“You wanna marry her?” He certainly wished to marry Genesis, but he preferred to wait for the right moment, taking his time to nurture their relationship before making any hasty decisions.

Jimmy exhaled a cloud of smoke from the blunt, gently tapping the ashes into the ashtray.

“Of course Uce, I wanna put a ring on her finger. She’s something special for real.”

“Well then you have my blessing as her big brother when the time comes.” He and Jacari shared hearty laughter, relishing each other's presence as they passed a blunt back and forth, the music pulsating in the background while everyone around them rose to their feet, dancing joyfully together.

At that moment, Jimmy spotted Genesis emerging from the building, her eyes softly rubbing as she scanned the surroundings in search of him—he handed the blunt back to Jacari and set his drink on the table, making his way towards her.

With her arms crossed tightly over her chest, Genesis pondered Jimmy's whereabouts until her gaze fell upon her charming boyfriend striding toward her, prompting a radiant smile to blossom on her face as she relaxed her stance.

He loomed above her, his height casting a shadow over her petite frame as she looked up with wide, innocent eyes, her arms encircling his neck while his strong embrace enveloped her waist, mingling their scents in a tender moment.

“Hii Bo.” Genesis said.

“Hey baby, did you sleep well?” Jimmy asked as he leaned into a kiss.

“Yeah, I did and I missed you so much.” He laughed softly at her adorableness, planting gentle kisses on her lips repeatedly. “Yeah? Daddy missed you too princess.”

His hands glided into her shorts, cradling her curves before he pressed a passionate kiss on her neck, igniting a shiver of pleasure that coursed through her.

As the background music swelled with the smooth sounds of 'Aaliyah's One in a Million', Genesis pulled Jimmy close, and they lost themselves in a dance, reveling in the joy of each other's presence.

As everyone else joined in, she embraced him, her arms draped around his neck while his hands rested on her hips. They swayed together to the rhythm of the music, her soft laughter filling the air as she breathed in his familiar scent, resting her head against his chest and letting her body melt into his warmth.

“you know I love you Gigi?” Jimmy whispered gently.

“I know you do Bo, it scares me sometimes.” Genesis replied while she looked up at him with her innocent eyes.

He released a gentle laugh, his tone rich and laden with a sense of fragility. “Why mama?”

She averted her gaze from him, reflecting on the five years spent with Quincy. The turmoil he caused left her feeling unfortunate—unfortunate in her quest for new love, plagued by a sense of inadequacy despite her efforts. However, since being with Jimmy, everything has transformed; it feels refreshing and uplifting.

For the first time, she felt a profound connection with someone new—someone who genuinely cherishes her. The way Jimmy showers her with love, indulges her with tenderness, and even spoils her a little overwhelms her, as she has never encountered such warmth before.

“Look at me baby, talk to me.” She locked eyes with him, interpreting his worried expression.

“I felt unlucky to find new love, I kept my heart closed off for so long and now I’m feeling more comfortable with you.” She told him.

He kissed her lips gently, “you don’t gotta worry about that anymore Gigi, you know I’m here for you and will be with you forever until we grow old together.”

With a gentle smile, she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. They shared several more kisses, and as she felt his hand tenderly cradling her chin, the kiss deepened, transforming into a slow, intimate exchange that revealed their vulnerability to one another.

Their tongues twirled playfully as his hand cradled her left cheek, a possessive gesture that declared her as his own.

“You don’t gotta run and hide anymore mamas.” He murmured between her lips.

“I don’t wanna run anymore Bo.” She murmured softly.

They gently separate, catching their breath as she looks into his rich, dark brown eyes, feeling his deep voice echo within her very being. “then don’t.”

His lips brushed against her neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that traveled up to her jawline. She tilted her head back in delight, lost in the moment, while the music played on and the rest of the crowd remained oblivious to the couple's intimate exchange.

“Lemme’ have you, lemme’ be the one to take care of you and heal your scars mamas. Imma show you and prove to you how deeply in love I am with you.” He sank his teeth into her neck, eliciting a soft moan that slipped from her beautiful lips, meant for his ears alone.

“B-Bo, W-wait.”

“Tell me you mine baby, tell me.”

Her fingers wove through his hair as he nibbled on her neck, claiming her as his own. When he finally pulled back, she noticed his lips stained a deep purple from the passionate kisses, while her cheeks burned with the heat of his unexpected caress.

She gently stroked his cheek before entwining her fingers with his. “I’m yours Bo, I’m forever yours.”

With a grin, Jimmy twirled her around, then drew her back into his warm embrace, making her laugh joyfully.

“I gotchu baby.” Jimmy said.

“I know you do Bo.”

As the night drew to a close, guests hurriedly gathered their belongings and prepared to leave. Genesis's mother graciously permitted her and Jimmy to stay for the weekend, sparing them the trouble of driving home late. While Genesis busied herself with fixing their plates, she heard her stepfather calling her name, prompting her to turn around with a bright smile lighting up her face.

“What’s up Pops?” Genesis asked.

“I just wanted to say how proud I am of you sweetheart, and you got a good man on your shoulders dear.” Mr Porter said.

She chuckled at him, “does that mean you approve of him papa?”

“Of course I do, we connect right on the money!” Genesis chuckled to herself, shaking her head at her stepfather's silly antics.

“Seriously though Gigi, he has a good heart and good intentions with you don’t let that man slip away.” She smiled and nodded as her stepfather planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, then made his way to the living room to enjoy some television.

The burden of her family's disapproval of Jimmy has vanished—now they adore him and his playful spirit. As she prepared their plates and stored them in the fridge for the next day, she made her way upstairs to one of the guest rooms.

As she reached for the doorknob, soft moans drifted through the crack, prompting her to push the door ajar. Her eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of Jimmy, his long eight-inch member gliding rhythmically in his hand, his head resting against the headboard as he whispered her name in a husky moan.

She noticed the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, while his thumb gently caressed the tip of his cock, stirring a warm sensation that pooled between her thighs.

She could hear his soft whimpers, “fuck Gigi, I need you so bad baby.” She anticipated his behavior upon their arrival, fully aware of his sexual frustration.

She had to feign surprise for a brief moment as she swung open the door, catching him off guard until he recognized her presence after her brief absence downstairs—his gaze revealed a hunger, as if he wished to consume her in an instant.

As she closed the door and secured the lock, she strolled past him on her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth, only to be interrupted by his resonant voice calling her name.

“Gigi.” Jimmy called out to her with a raspy tone.

“Hm?” Genesis turned her head, her eyes widening at the sight of his impressive eight-inch cock, standing proud and formidable.

He rose to his feet and approached her, who was retreating against the wall behind her, her gaze locked onto his dark eyes brimming with desire, and surprisingly, she felt no fear.

“C’mere baby, don’t run from me.” He said softly.

“I’m not Bo, whatchu want?” She reacted as her hand enveloped his rugged form, gliding up and down, making him dissolve under her caress, his eyes tightly shut and head thrown back in ecstasy at her touch.

“You want me baby?”

“Mhm, been wanting yo’ cute ass since we came up here. Keep stroking it like that Gigi.” Following his instructions, she caressed him gently, savoring the way he succumbed to her every movement.

She gently caressed his sensitive tip with her thumb, leaving a slick residue behind. As she did this, she felt his hand tugging at her waist, drawing her nearer so he could murmur sweet nothings into her ear while she continued to pleasure him.

Genesis pressed gentle, moist kisses against his neck, sensing his muscles tense as he lifted her nightgown, his hands exploring her curves in slow, circular motions before delivering a playful smack. “Fuck, faster Gigi. Stroke it faster mamas.” He moaned softly.

She quickened her pace, caressing him while leaving marks on his neck and chest. “Like this daddy? you like it when I’m stroking this big ass dick?” She whispered in his ear.

“Yes mamas, this yo’ dick baby. I’m yours.”

Her pace gradually intensified, the gentle touch of her hand becoming more passionate and enchanting. Every gesture, every whispered word sent tingles coursing through him, clouding his mind and making concentration ever more elusive.

“Oh my god, Genesis.” A deep, primal groan rumbled from his throat as he held her legs, pressing her against the wall while she encircled his waist, captivated by the sight of his muscles rippling with strength during the effortless lift.

The sharp contrast between the frigid chill on her shoulder blades and the intense heat radiating from Jimmy's body against her front sent a wave of exhilarating shivers racing down her spine.

He repositioned his hold, his powerful hands enveloping her form, gently parting her as he aligned himself at her threshold. “Imma fuck this pussy up, and you better be a good girl and take it.”

She obeyed, intertwining her ankles at the base of his back while he pushed her against the bedroom wall. Her fingers wove through his hair as she leaned in for a kiss.

He pressed into her softness and then penetrated her fully in a powerful thrust. Genesis bit her lip to stifle her cries, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of being so thoroughly filled. The angle was relentless—deeper than ever, reaching depths that clouded her mind.

The creamy essence enveloped him perfectly with every thrust, the gentle sound of her back hitting the wall, their breaths intertwining and echoing in the shadows.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good. I’m so addicted to this shit.” He let out a low growl, his motions steady as he penetrated her further. “So addicted to you mamas.”

Jimmy adjusted his hold on her thighs, his fingers digging into her tender skin as he pressed her against the wall. He widened her legs, enabling him to penetrate further. With each upward thrust, he pulled her down onto him, his fingers immersing in her softness.

The rhythmic sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, while her mind swirled with ecstasy and affection. With every thrust, her warmth wrapped around him tighter, flowing down to where they connected with each powerful movement.

“Oh my—“ She inhaled sharply, her voice a mere whisper as she struggled to remain silent. Her head gently leaned against the wall with a soft thump, revealing the elegant curve of her neck to his eager lips.

He quickly found her pulse point, sucking with enough intensity to leave a mark she would need to conceal the next day. His hips moved in a steady rhythm, the firm length of him gliding against that sensitive area within her. With every retreat, her body clung to him tightly, only to fully surrender as he thrust back in.

Their bodies were surrounded by her wetness, enabling each thrust to move more smoothly and reach deeper than ever.

He leaned in closer, his voice low and rough, nearly a whisper as it brushed against her ear. “this the best dick you ever had, baby? Huh?” His voice was taunting and teasing at the same time.

Genesis struggled to find the right words; she felt utterly lost as he shattered her into fragments.

Her body responded, drawing him in deeper with each thrust. The pressure in her stomach grew stronger, tightening more with every motion.

He maintained his pace of rebellion, “look at you mamas taking this dick so good baby.”

She eagerly embraced him, her toes beginning to unfurl from their previous tight grip. “Shitshitshit, Bo.” She emitted a gentle whimper, her thighs beginning to tremble as they encircled his waist. “it’s soo big daddy.”

“Yeah? Big for you to handle it baby like a big girl huh?” He emitted a deep growl, his hands holding her tightly. “Keep taking this big ass dick for me princess.”

He sped up, thrusting into her with intense desire. The sound of their bodies crashing together intensified, becoming more urgent. Genesis pressed her face into his shoulder to stifle her moans, her teeth digging into his flesh.

He overwhelmed her completely, with Jimmy's hands stretching her cheeks apart and massaging her backside. In this moment, she was entirely exposed and under his control. She gasped as he penetrated her tightness after teasing the entrance with a single finger.

He whispered, “Mhm, pussy so wet for me mamas." He noticed her face transforming into a pleading expression, reminiscent of a puppy asking him to take it easy. “I know mamas, I know just keep taking it for me baby.”

She felt as if she were floating, her thoughts consumed by the powerful emotions coursing through her.

As the pleasure heightened, her clitoris pressed against his lower abdomen with every thrust, creating the ideal friction that propelled her closer to orgasm.

“Clench onto me some more baby lemme’ feel her.” He urged, his voice tense as he struggled to keep his composure.

She tilted her face towards his lips, releasing a gentle moan as the first waves of her orgasm began to envelop her.

Jimmy became entranced by her sounds, his kiss growing passionate and fervent as he sensed her tightening embrace. "Mhmm," he whispered gently between kisses, “yess baby fuck.”

Her body transformed into a vessel of his delight as he rhythmically penetrated, driving her nearer to ecstasy. Each muscle tightened, and every nerve tingled with sensation as she neared her climax. Jimmy's movements became increasingly frantic, his breath ragged and heavy against her skin.

Jimmy let out a soft groan against Bia's lips, his rhythm faltering for a moment as her body clenched around him. “I’m about to fucking nut. Ohh Gigi. I’m about to nut baby.”

His actions became more frantic and intense.

Genesis held onto him tightly, her thoughts clouded with a desperate hope that her parents remained unaware of their presence.

Before she could articulate her thoughts, she surrendered completely, her body quaking as she clung to him desperately, her essence flowing down her thighs, prompting Jimmy to glance at the chaos she had made.

He gently kissed her forehead, offering comfort as he made love to her with deep affection, which he truly felt for her.

“Pull out Bo, pull out.” She begged him.

“Where you want it then baby?” He breathed out deeply against her neck, his voice tense as he struggled to keep his composure.

“On my face cum on my face daddy.” She wrapped her legs around his waist as his thrusts grew more intense and frantic. Breathing heavily against her neck, she felt herself losing control, pulling him in closer.

“Fuck I’m cummin’ again Bo, I’m cummin’”

“Cum for me baby, let it out baby.” Jimmy thrust deeper and deeper, triggering her second orgasm, causing her to squirt on his body as she felt euphoric, as if she were on cloud nine.

“Keep cummin’ baby c’mon gimme one more baby.” She let out a soft whimper against his neck, her eyes rolling back in her head as she felt overwhelmed by his presence.

She whined, “Dadddy I can’t, I fucking can’t.”

He penetrated further into her, eliciting a loud gasp. “yes you can, fuck Genesis. Make a mess on me some more baby let it out.

She was reaching her limit, her nails digging into his skin, but it was his whispered, crude words in her ear that pushed her over the edge.

“Fuckkk Jimmy! Ohhh fuckk.” She cried out passionately as she experienced her third climax of the night, tears streaming down her face and fluids trickling down her thighs.

He thrust into her one final time before withdrawing, as she fell to her knees, tongue extended, while his thick streams of semen erupted onto her face, accompanied by a deep growl that escaped his lips.

Genesis knelt with trembling legs, savoring his sweet essence on her tongue while offering him a weary smile. He paused his movements, observing the remnants of his release on her face, before gripping her throat and kissing her deeply.

The kiss was intense and fervent, her fingers entwined in his hair as they passionately embraced, savoring the sweetness of his essence.

“You so good to me baby, so fucking good.” Jimmy murmured between her lips.

Jimmy held her close as he carried her bridal style into the bathroom, using his foot to close the door behind them. He gently set Genesis down on the sink counter, positioning himself between her legs.

He positioned her legs over his shoulders, aware of her heightened sensitivity—he gently bit her lower lip, tugging it back before diving back into the kiss. He took hold of himself, rubbing his tip against her folds before entering her, eliciting moans from both of them.

“Bo, baby.” Genesis moaned softly.

Their gaze remained locked as her creamy essence enveloped him, allowing for smooth movements in and out like a water slide.

“What baby? What?” Jimmy taunted.

His hips collided with her thighs, their groans intertwining and resonating in the bathroom as he thrust into her, prompting her to arch her back in pleasure.

He was ensuring she experienced every sensation he desired as she bit down on her bottom lip, holding his gaze, fully aware of how much he cherished looking into her innocent eyes.

“Pretty ass keep looking at me, look how I’m good I’m fucking this pussy baby.”

“Fuck me s-so good d-daddy.”

“Yeah? Daddy fucks you good huh mama.” She remembered him saying that once she allowed him in, she would become addicted to him, and he was right; she became deeply attached to him, as if he were a drug.

He was her heroin addiction.

And so was she.

Jimmy maintained his rhythm as he penetrated her deeper, causing her eyes to roll back and her mouth to open wide, until he lifted her and began thrusting into her slick core.

“B-Bo!” She gasped.

“Un-Huh, take this dick I’m giving you.” She was taken by surprise when he entered the bathroom for a second round, as she had assumed he would be tired, but she was mistaken; he was brimming with energy.

She continuously rolled her eyes back, keeping them shut as waves of pleasure washed over her. It felt as if he was delving deeper within her, gradually unraveling her piece by piece.

Genesis could feel his body connecting with hers, igniting her passion as he kissed her deeply during their intimate moment.

His tongue explored her mouth while her hands tugged at his curls, and with each thrust growing deeper, she felt overwhelmed, as if she couldn't endure it any longer.

“B-Bo baby, I-I C-can’t.” she breathes out while trying to keep up.

He ignored her pleas as he drove deeper, causing her to gasp and moan loudly, the sound of their bodies colliding resonating throughout the bathroom.

She clawed at his skin, causing him to hiss in pain as he bit down on his bottom lip, looking down at her intently.

Genesis experienced a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach, realizing she was about to climax with this man. She sensed he was aware of it as well, given her expression.

He stimulated her g-spot while she tugged at his curls, engaging her with conversation throughout. "you finna cum? go ahead, make a mess on me, mama daddy gotchu." Jimmy was aware of his charm in conversation.

As he continued to hit her sweet spot, she was so overwhelmed by the depth of their connection that she couldn't comprehend the impact she had on him.

“This my fucking pussy huh? Tell daddy this shit belongs to him.” Genesis struggled to speak as she was contorted like a pretzel.

“Talk to me baby.”

“Yess! Yes Bo! This is all yours!” Her fourth climax of the evening enveloped him in her creamy essence, reminiscent of vanilla ice cream, while her legs trembled.

She desperately wanted to escape his grasp, but he held her firmly against the wall, penetrating her deeply and making her feel every sensation.

“Don’t run from me, take this dick mama.” His voice was low and gravelly, nearly breaking as he clung to her thighs for stability.

“D-dadddy, oh my goddd.” Genesis was overcome with emotion as tears started to stream down her face.

Jimmy pressed his lips to her cheeks and then to her lips, attempting to soothe her as his actions became increasingly uncoordinated.

As they became more careless, she felt ecstatic at that moment, tugging at his curls to draw him nearer.

She embraced his damp body closely, feeling his breath on her neck as he planted several wet kisses there, prompting her to moan his name softly in his ear.

He felt himself on the verge of climax as he thrust into her with intensity, and without hesitation, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Shit, I’m finna cum Gigi. Where you want it?” Jimmy groaned as he was giving it his all.

“In me, cum in me Jimmy.” He gazed into her eyes, ensuring she was choosing wisely.

“Mamas you sure? Ion wanna get you pregnant baby.”

He was unaware that before booking their flight to Atlanta, she had visited the clinic to start birth control, ensuring she wouldn't get pregnant until she felt prepared.

“It’s okay Bo, cum inside of me I want all of your kids.”

She granted him permission once more as he passionately made love to her, seeking his pleasure while burying his face in her neck, savoring her warm kisses trailing down his skin, all the while spreading her further apart and thrusting deeply into her.

“Cum for me daddy, cum.” Her sweet little mischievous whispers.

In that moment, he thrust into her one final time, completely filling her as a groan escaped his lips, while her body trembled beneath him and he shuddered.

He withdrew from her, breathing heavily against her neck as she clung to him, savoring his warm kisses on her neck and cheeks. When he finally pulled away, she looked at him with a hint of concern.

“Why would you let me cum inside of you baby?” Jimmy asked.

“I allowed it because I’m on birth control right now Bo.” Genesis explained.

“You got on birth control? You didn’t tell me baby, I should’ve been there.”

He was right; he ought to have been there, but she didn't inform him, so she went by herself.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, you were busy with your schedule before we even planned this weekend trip.”

He gently set her on her feet, maintaining his grip on her waist as he caressed both sides of her hips.

“Still you could’ve told me Gigi.” She felt a pang of regret for not speaking up, aware that all he ever desired was for her to share her thoughts, even if they were just small matters.

Jimmy gently held her chin and pressed a tender kiss on her lips.

“I’m not mad at you baby, just tell me next time please? I don’t need you shutting me out mama.” She embraced him firmly, nodding her head as he rested his chin on her head and gently rubbed her back.

Following their shared shower, Genesis drifted into a deep slumber on Jimmy's chest, while he gazed at her serene beauty, gently brushing her hair away from her face to appreciate her more fully.

As he was occupied, he noticed her phone illuminate, piquing his curiosity. He picked it up, unlocked it, and discovered a message from an unfamiliar number, suspecting it might be from Zilla.

However, upon reading the message, his entire attitude shifted dramatically.

Unknown Number: Next time yo’ Samoan ass nigga point a gun at me I’ll shoot his ass dead Gigi trust

Jimmy let out a soft laugh as he set her phone back on the small dresser beside them, settling into the bed together. He was determined to keep his composure in front of her friends, but he couldn't shake the thought that Darrius was in for a surprise come tomorrow afternoon.

Aware that they will stay through the weekend until Monday morning, when they board their flight to a different city.

He quickly picked up his phone and sent a message to Jacari, sharing all the important details.

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: Aye we need to handle that little boy toy Darrius tmr you down?

Cari🎯: I’m down fasho been wanting to whoop his ass ever since he been tryna get at Gigi since high school

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: bet yk where he stay at?

Cari🎯: sure do nigga lives in them little ass apartments down the street I can drive us there tmr fasho

Jimmy❤️‍🩹: aight let’s leave in the afternoon that way Genesis can spend time with yall momma and pops

Cari🎯: aight see you tmr

As Jimmy set his phone down beside him, he pulled the blankets over their bodies to ward off the evening chill. He leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on Genesis's forehead before settling in for a cozy night in bed.

He gently shut his eyes, sensing Genesis stir in her slumber as he drew her nearer, basking in the warmth that enveloped them both, before surrendering to the embrace of sleep.

jonathanfatu, biancabelairwwe, jadecargill, and others liked your post.

gigispovv: pressure? still applying it 🩷

jonathanfatu: pressure indeed baby look at you 😩😩

gigispovv @ jonathanfatu my hype man 🫶🏽

biancabelairwwe: girrlll your face card will forever be eating 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

uceyjucey: my brother giving you that GLOWSTICK

gigispovv: @ uceyjucey DONT PMO JOSHUA 😭😭

carmelohayes: damn you look good asf

jonathanfatu: @ carmelohayes you must want to get yo’ ass whooped right? stay outta her comments bitch

yaonlylivonce: girrrrl get his name tatted on you pleaseee or him shi both of yall should do it

gigispovv: @ yaonlylivonce i heard that give you bad luck ill think about it 😭😭

MontezFordWWE: Jimmy bagged a pretty one

americannightmarecody: I MISS YOU GIGI

gigispovv: @ americannightmarecody I’ll be back on Monday nigga calm down 😂😂

rikishi: the fam misses you Gigi ❤️

gigispovv: @ rikishi tell em i'll visit soon pops 🫶🏽

jackieredmond: so we gonna speed past the fact that they had a time together with that fucking Don Julio in the second pic or what? 😭😭

gigispovv: @ jackieredmond JACKIE 😭😭😭

read all comments.

GUARDED

a/n: Darrius better watch out Jimmy ain’t no bitch he’ll kill him if he has to.

but I hope y'all enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

chapter fourteen

previous chapter

#black fanfic writer #black oc #black writers #wwelove #wwe fanfiction #big jim #jimmy x black oc #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso fanfic #jimmy uso fanfiction #guarded🤍#Spotify

82 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 17 days ago

Text

Fury Road (Prologue)

Summary: They messed with the wrong person.

Pairing: Harry Da Souza x fem! Reader

Warnings: secret relationship, established relationship, hand around throat (not the reader), world-building

A/N: For my story, Harry is not married. There’s no cheating. It’s better if you watch the first season to know the characters aside from Harry, but it's not necessary.

Harry Da Souza has many flaws. He’s grumpy, a hard-ass, and violent if he must. Being a coward or leaving the people he cares about behind is not one of them.

He watches from afar, eyes never straying to prevent the person he swore to protect from getting hurt. Harry could imagine better places to be in the middle of the night. He sighs and runs one hand down his face.

Sometimes he feels too old to be a fixer for messes other people leave for him to take care of. “What a sack of shit,” he grunts, downing a glass of water instead of a drink. Harry must focus and cannot drown his frustration in booze. “That little shit fucks with all of us and parties as if he didn’t almost get us killed.”

Frustration clearly written all over his face, Harry nods at Zosia. She taps her glass before making her way toward the bar to stop Eddie Harrigan from getting himself into trouble tonight.

“Fucking great,” Harry huffs, because Eddie, the little shit, tries to provoke Zosia. If he doesn’t go over and stop Zosia, they will lose not only their jobs but their lives too.

“I told you to stop making things difficult. Your grandfather told us to pick you up. Now, get your shit together and come with me.” Zosia is close to knocking Eddie.

“Eddie,” Harry’s deep and rough voice makes itself known. He doesn’t have to raise his voice or threaten the young man. His presence alone makes most of his opponents nervous. “Your grandfather expects you to be present tonight. It was a long week, if not a month.”

Eddie grins like the asshole he is, but Harry won’t have it. He grabs Eddie by the throat and slams him against the bar counter. “You will get into the car with Zosia and let her drive you home. If not, I can still break your neck. Your grandfather wouldn’t mind.”

Eddie claws at the much stronger man’s hand, struggling to breathe.

“I guess this is a yes, Harry,” Zosia muses as she watches the little shit she had to save more than once over the last few weeks whine like a baby. “Please don’t make him pee his pants. I’d hate my car to smell like baby piss and fear…”

“You’re so…tense,” you sigh deeply. Harry came to your apartment, tense and pumped up once again. “You need to calm down.”

“That vile boy,” Harry grits out. “He’s irresponsible, disloyal, and a freak.” He rolls his shoulders, fighting your hands. “Sorry… I promised to not bring my job home.”

“It’s alright.” You press a soft kiss to his neck, feeling his shoulders relax. “You can always tell me about your job and the things going on in your pretty head.”

“Pretty, huh?” He looks over his shoulder. “I think this is the first time someone called me pretty.”

“Well then, everyone you met before was blind,” you conclude before kissing his cheek. “Alright. Take a shower, big boy. I’ll prepare a plate for you. You have missed dinner.”

“I’m sorry about that too,” Harry curses himself for being late…again. He tries so hard to not fuck your relationship up and make you leave.

“Hey, sometimes people can’t make it in time.” You pat his shoulders. “Don’t sweat it, baby. I signed up for this. All of it. The late nights without you. Missed dinners. A dangerous man taking me apart in the best way.”

He laughs now. “You like dangerous men, huh?”

“Maybe…” You shrug, earning a growl from Harry. “But I do not like when they reek of pee and little boys.”

“Alright, alright,” he raises his hands in surrender. “I’ll take a shower,” Harry smirks at you, eyes dropping to your crotch. “And maybe, you’ll tell me again how much you like dangerous men.”

“I only like one.” You raise your index finger, pointing at Harry. “A grumpy and beefy one. The guy pushed me out of the way when a car almost ran me over.”

“I’d do it in every life, at any time,” he honestly says, eyes softening when you sigh. “Not tonight, maybe. Perhaps I should take a shower before rescuing the woman in distress.

“Asshole,” you giggle and throw a pillow at Harry. Of course, that cheeky bastard catches it before it can hit his face. “Go. Take a shower!”

Harry wakes with you in his arms. After you joined him in the showers to help him relax in a better way, you had a belated candlelight dinner to celebrate your second anniversary.

“I can’t believe you are mine.” He kisses the top of your head. “But you are, and I hate that I cannot tell anyone you are mine. Sooner or later, we will get out of this life and have a better one. One in which I do not have to take care of other people’s mess…”

Part 1

#harry da souza #harry da souza x reader #harry da souza x you #Fury Road #harry da souza x y/n #x reader #female reader

89 notes · View notes

porty · 2 months ago

Text

drinks or coffee

lovestruck!oikawa x f!reader

summary: oikawa only wanted one more night with iwaizumi before heading off to argentina. to celebrate his new job as an athletic trainer. but turns out the party is for two people, iwa and someone else…

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | part 2

iwaizumi scoffed softly. “i don’t really want you there but… i guess you can…”

tonight, his new job at the jva was hosting a little something for their newest additions - two bright, freshly-hired athletic trainers. naturally, Oikawa had whined and moaned his way into coming as iwaizumi’s so-called guest of honor.

“you’re my snuggle pookie bear. you won’t regret it!” oikawa had chirped with a grin. these were his last few nights in japan before heading off to argentina. not that he was complaining - playing as their official setter was a dream. but spending one more night with his best friend? that sounded a lot more comforting at this very moment.

he heard iwaizumi groan, strained, and fed up. “i’m already regretting it… and you will not steal my spotlight tonight.”

oikawa scoffed faintly as he stuffed his final sweater into his suitcase. “i would never… how can you think so low of me, iwa?”

before he could finish his dramatic sigh, iwaizumi cut him off. “because you’re the worst.”

rolling his eyes, oikawa muttered, “anyway, iwa, pick me up tonight and i’ll be the hottest date there.”

“i hate you, shittykawa…” iwaizumi grumbled and hung up the phone, leaving oikawa pouting on the floor of his half-empty room. he looked around slowly - this might really be the last time he saw it like this. everything felt too quiet. too final. he let out a soft sigh and zipped up his suitcase.

that was it - his life in japan would end in the next 48 hours.

after what felt like days, his phone buzzed with a message from iwaizumi: ‘come down… you have 10 seconds…’

of course, oikawa ran faster than sonic straight to the car.

“this is NOT how you treat your da—”

“i will run over your foot right now.” iwaizumi snapped.

oikawa yelped and slipped into the passenger seat without another word. “thank you for inviting me, iwa. that’s very kind of you,” he said softly, fumbling with his seatbelt.

“so you know, mattsun and makki synced,” he said after a beat of silence, breaking the tension.

iwaizumi raised a brow. “those two?”

“yeah. it was only a matter of time… so what about you, my friend?” oikawa asked curiously, eyes drifting to his own red string - nearly faded away. that damn string. that faded red color kept him up st night.

“i cut my string. i don’t have time for that. my career matters more,” iwaizumi said bluntly, eyes locked on the road.

oikawa had always believed in soulmates. in the red string of fate. but he was never one to fall in love at first sight. he liked attention, sure, but it would be nice - really nice - to spoil someone special. even so, with him leaving for argentina in about 48 hours, falling in love now would be downright stupid.

the car fell silent again, and stayed that way until they pulled up to the restaurant.

“well, well, look at you. they rented out a whole restaurant in your honor?” oikawa teased.

“it’s not just for me. they hired someone else too. and you will be on your best behavior,” owaizumi warned, eyes narrowing.

oikawa raised his arms in mock surrender. “alright, i will…”

but it only took about 30 minutes for boredom to catch up with him. he scanned the room, hoping for something - anything - fun to do. just a moment to poke fun at iwaizumi. but his best friend was stuck talking to stuffy old men. oikawa groaned under his breath and played with the ice in his drink.

“i am so sorry we’re late!!”

the soft voice made him lift his head.

and then he saw you - rushing in with cat boy and owl boy. not that he cared to remembered their names. all he saw was you.

“yn, kuroo, and bokuto - good to see you,” iwaizumi greeted you and you smiled. a smile so bright it nearly blinded Oikawa.

before the conversation could go anywhere, one of the stuffy old men called you and your friends over. oikawa took advantage of that moment and rushed to iwaizumi’s side.

“iwa! who is that?” he tugged on his string, eyes wide. for a split second, he swore… swore… that the pigment had returned - it was dark red for a couple of seconds.

iwaizumi didn’t even look at him. “shittykawa, can this not be about you?”

“please, it’s important,” oikawa groaned. “just tell me her name.”

he must’ve looked truly pathetic, because iwaizumi caved. “fine. that’s yn. we’ll be working together.”

yn… yn…

yeah, that name just rolled right off the tongue.

“yn?” he repeated softly.

“yes, and that’s all you’re getting. you should be worrying about argentina. you don’t have time for a silly crush… especially not if that person isn’t even the one.” iwaizumi glanced at oikawa’s almost invisible string.

of course, iwaizumi knew oikawa wanted to fall in love. but he also knew that argentina was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. throwing that away for someone who might not even be fated to him? too risky. too stupid.

“tooru, be realistic. come on, i’ll drive you home so you can finish packing.”

oikawa nodded, though iwaizumi didn’t know - he was already done packing. he’d be returning to an empty room. a small bed. just him and his thoughts.

thoughts of you.

the girl he’d probably never see again. the girl he was already creating “what if” scenarios for. the girl he’d affectionately nicknamed as ‘the one who slipped away’. when he will talk about you to others.

as he followed iwaizumi out, he couldn't help to steal one last glance at you, for the one final time. you were laughing at something cat boy said. and it sent shivers down his spine. in the best way possible.

“let’s go…” iwaizumi called out. oikawa said his first and final silent goodbye to you.

the drive back was filled with iwaizumi’s usual lectures. unfortunately, oikawa tuned all of it out. which that would piss iwaizumi off, of course - but it was worth it. his mind was too full of you.

he wondered what kind of person you were. what you liked. what you hated. and most importantly, who was at the end of your string.

but what got his mind and heart racing was the moment he saw you - and his string seemed to darken. just a bit.

who are you, exactly?

“get out,” iwaizumi barked, snapping oikawa back to reality. they were parked at his home.

“oh. thanks, iwa…” oikawa muttered.

iwaizumi grunted and waved him off, speeding off as soon as oikawa closed the door.

left alone with his thoughts, oikawa went to his room and sat on the floor, reaching for an old volleyball. wondering what your first date will look like.

“i wonder if she prefers getting drinks or coffee?”

AN: say thank you to the rosé, the knicks, and the yankees… also for my starlight is causing me stress and stomach pains…

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

@porty || do not plagiarise or translate any of my work. I do not own any of the Haikyuu characters all rights goes to Haruichi Furudate.

#haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #hq oikawa #oikawa fluff #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa imagines #drabble #oikawa drabbles #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq x you #iwaizumi hajime #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi

65 notes · View notes

baronessvonglitter · 3 months ago

Text

🔥Vulgar Display of Power🔥

(Part 1 of "The Assistant From Hell")

Marcus Moreno x OFC Cat Cruz | WC: 4.9K

Summary: Being Marcus Moreno's assistant is an easy gig for Cat Cruz. Until she makes an impulsive decision to show she's more than meets the eye.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! M for Mature. Allusions to smut. Adult language. First person narrative and maybe even an unreliable narrator? Mentions of pyromania. Petty violence. Brief allusions to kinks. One vulgar (but also pretty cool) display of power. Cat is basically a walking Intrusive Thought.

A/n: Hi my name is Adriana, and one time when I was a kid I ate an entire bag of miniature Milky Ways and then I threw up. We were on a road trip and I was reading while the car was in motion.. so that's how I found out I get motion sickness 😎

A couple months ago I was really stuck on a couple of fics I was working on, and so to get unstuck I started a stream of consciousness exercise, written entirely in first person. This is the result - with some polishing and editing lol. Cat's story is going to be told through parts rather than chapters, because it might be one of those stories that doesn't really have a true end, just a collection of adventures. I plan on sprinkling in a few P-bois in later chapters (and this one!)

dividers by @kodaswrld 👑

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You can call me Cat.

Not Catherine. Only cops and judges call me that.

And don't you dare start with Cathy or the godforsaken Kitty.

The last man who called me Kitty.. well..

To put it lightly, that man is no longer among the living on this earth.

To put it darkly I jammed an ice pick through the base of his skull.

But let's not get caught up in that. I tend to get easily distracted, so bear with me.

Anyway it's a typical fucking Monday and because I live in a society I'm driving my shitty canary yellow Saturn SW to my job at Heroics HQ instead of relaxing on a nude beach somewhere getting tan all over or partying somewhere in Dubai and getting a billionaire to give over all his money.

It sucks being an adult. But you already know this. I'm not here to tell you things you know, I'm here to tell a story. So be quiet and listen.

😊

I pick up a couple drinks at Starbucks and cruise into my assigned parking space at work. Mine says Employee of the Year in thick black marker, as it has since the day I started working there and wrote it in thick black marker. It should say Milennium instead of Year, but there's not enough space on the sign and I always forget how to spell 'milennium.' Anyone else who tries to park here mysteriously gets their tires slashed. It's a crazy and sad world we live in. Some people just don't have any sense of right and wrong.

Anyway, I haven't had to slash anyone's tires in awhile, which has made for a boring few weeks. Did I mention how boring my job is? But it's safe, and it pays really well. Plus my boss.. well, you'll see..

I saunter into the office and--

Did I mention my outfit? I didn't, did I? Well I look fucking good. 😉

Much of my paycheck goes to keep me dressed in L'ecole des Femmes, which isn't cheap, but holy fuck have you seen the clothes?? Today I'm in my usual Belle de Jour dress with the oh-so-necessary black Louboutins (genuine, thank you very much!) with white ruffle socks and my hair in a high ponytail with a black bow. My hair's dark so the bow doesn't always show, but I like knowing it's there, making me look very coquette. The red lips and black winged liner let everyone know I'm not to be fucked with.

Here we go.

I waltz in, drink holder in hand as I flash my badge and am given entry to the building. Blowing the security guard a kiss, I make my way to the elevator bank, the doors gliding right open for me as if they know I'm here. The ride goes by so damn slow but no one in this building seems to give a damn. They're all a fit bunch who take the stairs. Well la-dee-da my preferred cardio is--

Eep. Fourth floor. My heart rate speeds up a little bit. Adrenaline courses through my veins, waking up every sense, firing off neurons left and right. I feel all tingly, like my spider senses are activated.

He's here! I can already hear his voice from out here in the hallway.

Sauntering into the office (by the way, have you ever "sauntered" in Louboutins? It ain't easy work, honey. It's a goddamn art, which I have perfected. Most people would probably fall and break their nose trying to walk a mile in my shoes but that's okay because I am Cat Full of Grace and I am a rarity among all).

Fuck, I got sidetracked. Okay, so I saunter into the office and am met with the sight of my boss, arms crossed as he leans against the doorway of his office, speaking with one of the other employees.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts playing in my head and as if in slow motion he turns to look at me, a little smile on his face.

"You're late, Miss Cruz," he says, a bit sternly.

"Fashionably so," I do a little spin in my outfit, hoping he'll get excited by how short my skirt is.

"It's ten thirty. You're supposed to start work at eight." He is most definitely not looking at my legs. Bummer.

"I'm late because I stopped to get you a drink," I hand him a cup, lighting up when our fingers touch.

"What is it?" he asks, looking pleasantly surprised that I'd thought about him on my morning commute.

"Actually, I'm not sure. But surprises are the spice of life, am I right?" I take the cup from him and sip it, swishing it around in my mouth for a bit before swallowing. "Mocha latte, extra whip," I proudly announce, handing him back the warm cup of coffee. He stares at the ruby bloom of my lipstick stain on the lid.

"Did you know they just make a bunch of drinks and then leave them out on the counter, completely unattended?" I giggle as I put my purse away, finally taking a sip of my own drink and getting a big gulp of matcha. Ugh. Well, at least it was free.

A confused look crosses his face as he pieces together what I'm saying. "Cat, I think these are mobile orders for other people. You literally stole drinks off the counter."

"I prefer 'swiped' over 'stole'," I correct him. "And anyway, those lazy fuckers can just go through the drive-through or wait in line like everyone else. I swear, some people are so self-righteous and egotistical."

The look on his face is priceless. His deep brown eyes get all big behind his glasses (did I mention he wears glasses? Rawr, people are a thousand percent hotter with glasses) and his lips get all pouty and o-shaped beneath his mustache--

Okay, stop. I know what you're thinking.

No, I don't have a crush on my boss. That's ridiculous and I'd laugh right in your face if you were here right now.

Marcus Moreno is conventionally attractive. That's all. Stop giving me that look.

Do you know how many hot guys I see every day? I work with goddamn superheroes. The abundance of testosterone makes every one of my coworkers a little more attractive. It's a pull on the pheromones or the ovaries or something, I'm not a scientist.

He's standing there, watching me with that adorably clueless look and I'm standing there like an idiot, watching him because he's so cute.

"Don't you have some work to do? While you're still employed by us?" he says, a little smirk on those lips that I definitely don't dream about kissing or imagine how soft they'd be on my skin.

"I'm right on top of that, Rose!" I say cheerfully. Marcus just gives me a blank look.

I put my hands on my hips, feigning annoyance. "Haven't you ever seen Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead?"

"Umm.." his lips pout as he genuinely tries to remember.

"Dude. that movie's like thirty years old by now. Do you not watch movies?"

"Of course, I watch movies with Missy all the time," he says a little defensively as he speaks about his daughter.

"I don't mean Pixar movies." I roll my eyes.

"Miss Cruz. Back to work," he says, a tinge of iron in his voice.

"Yes, sir." Jesus, when he says it like that, I can't help but follow orders.

I need to start on something to do, but I immediately start browsing Dolls Kill. There's a sale on platform heels! I think Marcus wouldn't mind if I get settled in before going through all those boring emails.

My nameplate says, I put the Ass in Assistant on the side that faces me. The other side just says Admin Assistant. (I've asked Accounting for a new one, but the department head is a bitch and says only team leaders are allowed personalized nameplates. But she has one. I asked if she's a team leader and she said no, just a department head. So I asked why she has a personalized nameplate. She said no, she's just a department head and I said well why do you get to have one, that doesn't seem fair, and she had no reply, just stared at me open-mouthed like a bass caught on a fishing pole.)

So yeah I started a small fire in her office, but she was okay and all the other accountants were at lunch, so nobody else would've gotten hurt anyway.

See? I got sidetracked again. C'mon, I need you to keep me from doing that!

God, it's boring. Does anyone else have a problem just diving into work? Who would dive headfirst into a pit of needes? I need to merge my way into this evil Monday morning.

I spin in my chair, sliding to my left to get a view of Marcus, who's typing something on his computer. His brows are knitted together, a small stray strand of hair falling over his forehead which he doesn't seem to notice. He looks so Clark Kent right now. Seriously, you'd love him.

Not that I do. Shut up!

Typically I wile the work day away as Marcus's personal assistant. I answer the phone and respond to emails, and I'm also in charge of his schedule, both work and personal.

He never has anything in his personal schedule. It makes me really sad for him. The most exciting thing he has planned this week is price comparing Roombas. (Yes, he actually carved out time just for that. Isn't that adorable?)

I line up work meetings, sometimes snoop around at his music collection. (I don't think he knows it's paired to my Bluetooth.) And often I'll play songs on my speaker that are his own playlist and he'll peek his head out of his office and say something cute like "Is that 'Porcelain' by Moby? I love that song!" and I know he loves it because I'm playing his playlist.

Right before lunch is when I feel it: like a fire in my bones (I'm not attempting to be poetic, that's really how it feels!) and a buzzing in my brain. My hearing goes all staticky and it's a battle just to keep control of my faculties.

'Hello, darling.'

Aw, damn it.

"What the fuck do you want?" I whisper to the voice in my head.

'Quite a rude way to greet an old friend, isn't it? Whatever happened to hello, how are you?'

"Get out of my head!" I whisper harshly. I hear Marcus's fingers abruptly stop typing.

'Thinking about that man's hands again, aren't you? They'd make a good necklace, wouldn't they?' the voice teases. 'I know you've always enjoyed the rough stuff.'

I hurry out of my seat and past Marcus's office. "Hey, you okay?" he calls out.

"Fine! Period emergency!" I shout back, making haste to the corner of the front hallway where no one goes.

"Seriously, dude, you need to leave me alone!" I whisper-hiss to the evil voice.

'You used to like when I come into your mind like this..' I can almost hear the pout in his voice.

"You're not welcome here!"

'Too late.'

My stomach heaves when he says that because it means he's actually near.

The elevator dings and the doors open up on my floor to reveal him -- the bane of my existence, the curse of all good things.

Come on, we've all had that ex.

"Not now!" I whisper

But he's already here, his entire personality taking up so much space in the hallway, brown curls falling over soulful dark eyes, a cigarette between his lips. There's no smoking allowed in the building, but what do I care, I started an office fire, remember?

"Why is that damn elevator so slow? Hey, don't I get a hug?" He opens his arms wide, his watercolor print shirt rising up a little to show his tummy.

"You can get fucked for all I care," is my stone cold reply as I cross my arms, not making a move towards him, showing him I Mean Business. "Go away! I didn't call you. How'd you even get past security?"

"You don't need to call me. I know when I'm needed. And I have my ways of getting in to where I want to be. You know that, Kitty Kat." He sidles up to me anyway, and I wince when he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

I groan at the nickname. "It's just Cat, with a C. And by the way, I need you like I need a limp dick."

"Classy as always, Cat-With-a-C." He makes himself at home in a chair in the empty waiting room. His cigarette never ashes, never gets used up or goes out. If he flicks it away he simply makes a new one appear and starts over again.

"I need you like I need a UTI. Speaking of which, how's the new wife?"

He groans. "Darling, you can't keep bringing up old shit. I thought we were past that."

"I am past it. You're the one who came to me." My arms are crossed, not relenting even a little, not even when he appraises my outfit. I already know what he's thinking.

"Something important is going to happen today," he says, grinning at me like a fool.

I sigh deeply. "What exactly?"

He says in that singsong voice I've come to loathe: "Don't pretend like you don't know..."

I pause, my body so still I swear I can feel the thrum of my heartbeat in every part of my body. "No.. no, please!" I whisper.

"I am afraid, darling, that it's not up to me. You forget that I know everything that's going to happen."

"Not true. You've always been a liar."

"And so are you. You're an extension of me. Aren't you tired of pretending, Cat? Don't you want to show everyone what you're truly capable of?"

Just then Marcus approaches, and I back away from my unwanted and uninvited guest as if to let him know hell no I'm not with this dude.

He appraises us with a look of concern, his dark gaze flitting between me and the disheveled goon smoking like a chimney.

"Is everything okay here?" Marcus asks. "Miss Cruz?" He looks at me, those big puppy dog eyes full of concern. It's so heartwarming.

He must have heard us from his office. Damn his supernatural sense of hearing.

"He was just leaving." I smile.

But nooo, this idiot decides to introduce himself to my boss. He extends a hand towards Marcus. "How's it going? My name is Lu-"

"Lucien," I interrupt. "This is Lucien, my...uncle?" I hate the idea of introducing Lucien as someone I've ever been romantically involved with.

There's an evil gleam in Lucien's eyes (when is there ever not?) and he plays along with it. "That's right, I'm her uncle," he says as Marcus tentatively shakes his hand.

"I'm Marcus Moreno," my boss introduces himself.

"Good to finally meet you." Lucien's eyes light up as he glances my way and I give him an imperceptible shake of my head. "Kitty talks about you a lot. You should hear some of the things she says about you."

"Oh, that's enough out of you!" I laugh and try to shuffle Lucien down the hallway. "Don't listen to him, Marcus. He's had a recent brain injury. He says things that aren't true."

I have to give credit to Marcus, he's incredibly calm during all this, though I can sense he has a million questions on the tip of his tongue.

Nope, don't think about his tongue. Or his lips, which are right now curving into a smile as I continue to push Lucien out the door. "It's a pleasure to get to meet you, Mr. Cruz," he says politely. "Your niece has been a great addition to our team."

"Mr. Cruz?" Lucien whispers to me, barely containing his gleeful laughter. "It's DeLeon to you, and a thousand happy returns, my good man!"

"Shut up," I hiss at him, grabbing him and walking him back to the elevator. "Get the fuck out. Don't come here ever again. Don't tap into my brain or I will perform the necessary task to get rid of you for good," I threaten him.

There's a brief flash of fear in his dark eyes, just a flash, but it's there before he resumes his usual sagacious demeanor.

(Sagacious is my word of the day. I think self-improvement in one's vocabulary is a wonderful thing. But I still enjoy saying "fuck" a lot.)

"You will see me again," Lucien promises. "No matter what, you and I are bound together. Forever."

He takes his leave right before I get the chance to punch him or kick him in the balls. I watch him from the window, making sure he's really gone. He gets into a jet black Ferrari Testarossa and speeds away.

I miss that car.

"He seems nice," Marcus says, appearing at my side, also watching Lucien burn rubber on the road.

"He's Satan Incarnate," I say glumly.

Mondays suck and this is the suckiest Monday ever to Monday, but this particular Monday sucks for another reason: team meetings.

Everybody hates them, probably none moreso than me. Meetings suck, Mondays suck. Why clump them together? I've asked Marcus but he says it's on the orders of the higher ups.

At two p.m. we begin the journey to the main board room. During our walk Marcus practices his "no nonsense" look. But no matter how hard he tries I can tell he'll definitely tolerate some nonsense. He's just too good of a guy.

When I realize there's no backtalk in my brain, that means Lucien really is gone. My thoughts are my own again. Thank the gods. Now I can concentrate on how cute Marcus looks, that little crease between his brows deepens as he likely thinks over what he's going to say to the others.

"Good luck, gorgeous." I wink at him before we go in, and smile just as I see a faint pink blush rise in his face.

"I'll need it. Thanks," he mutters. As we enter the room, one by one the other team members turn to look at him, their looks varying from annoyance to disappointment and disdain.

I keep my smile on even as I glare back at them. The disrespect is blatant in their eyes and I will not tolerate it. Marcus may be a good guy, but I take no such fuckery lightly. I have complete faith in Marcus's ability to get them to agree.

I'm starting to see the reason for Lucien's appearance. He's only around when something bad is about to go down. People fight, argue, kill each other when he's around, and it seems the very air he breathed out has now infected the rest of the team. They're a fidgety, pompous lot. Superheroes are perceived through the media in a very positive light. Let me tell you, they're actually all dicks. And poor Marcus has had to handle their bullshit on a daily basis.

He stands at the head of the table and I sit at the side of the room near the door. First one out in case there's a fire. (Seriously, I've told you about the random acts of pyromania that go on around here.)

Marcus stands at the head of the table, a confident and serious expression on his face. "All right, let's just get straight to it, shall we? I'm sure you're all aware that I've been out of the field for some time now."

"We're aware!" someone yells from the back. "You leave the field then think you can make all these changes! We won't take it!"

My boss's gaze darkens but he keeps his composure and I mentally applaud him for that. "I'm well aware of your concerns, however, despite not being on the field as much, it doesn't make me any less of a leader."

"A leader should be with the team during battle! When's the last time you did that?" another complains.

I can already see the vein in Marcus's forehead start to twitch and my own body tenses up with anger in a purely empathetic response.

"Before my wife passed away and I was left to raise my daughter on my own.." he says quietly. "That was the last time I fought alongside you all."

Oof. He really just played the dead wife card. Not a fun card to play. He must be able to zone in on my thoughts, though, because his eyes seek out mine and I feel as if my heart is on full display for him when our gazes meet. I start to rise from my seat, my first instinct to pull him away from this stupid meeting and just make him feel better.

"It's not the same," another hero says with less ire in their voice. "We need a leader who's out there with us, not just up here calling the shots."

Marcus nods in acknowledgement. "I understand your concerns, however, my duty as leader has shifted. I look after operations, training, public relations, and Miss Cruz has been an adept assistant at my side the whole time."

I stand and do a little curtsy in honor of being recognized so kindly. I must give Marcus a proper thank you when the meeting's done. If you know what I mean..

Anyway, Marcus is continuing, so let's listen.

"...but each and every one of you have something in common. You're not just heroes.. you're all egotistical, arrogant bastards."

The whole room erupts in chaos. People rise from their chairs, papers are strewn, threats are made, basically it's a mess. This group is calling for Marcus's head on a stick and it's then that I realize that I can't sit back any longer.

"STOP!" I bellow, the power I so rarely get to use is surging within me. The heroes freeze in place, literally unable to move except for Marcus.

It's the most satisfying thing to see the looks of horror and shock on their faces as I keep them in thrall to me. "Marcus is right. You're all a bunch of egotistical bastards. So for once in your fortunate lives, sit down and shut up!"

I smile, pleased when they have no choice but to obey my command. "You're going to listen and discuss with respect for your team leader.. or I'll explode all of your fucking heads." I smirk.

The group is silent but for a few puttering sighs and pathetic groans. "God damn," Marcus mutters, obviously taken aback by my sudden revelation that I'm not that different from the rest of this crowd.

"They're going to behave now, Mr. Moreno," I announce, releasing them from my hypnotic spell. "Aren't you?" I growl to them.

The heroes all nod instantly, not wishing to challenge me again. Their thoughts come to me unbidden. They're scared, most are angry, some impressed and even aroused by my display of power. But they're going to comply out of straight fear of what I might do next.

Marcus's thoughts are the hardest to ignore. He's thinking about my confidence, my scent, the way my clothing clings to my curves.. I've just silenced an entire room of supernaturally gifted people and the first thing he's thinking is he wants to fuck me.

The meeting goes by smoothly, no further incidents. I was pleased that Marcus's ideas were presented with little objection. And when the heroes leave I feel waves of deference, curiosity, fear, even jealousy as they pass me to exit the room. I smile and drink it all up like a Diet Cherry Coke on a hot August day.

"Successful meeting," I nod to Marcus, who's picking up the loose papers off the ground. With a wave of my hand I sweep them all up into a tidy pile then burn them to ash in less than a millisecond. They were all petitions to demote Marcus from team leader. We can't have that.

"Very successful.. thanks to you." He won't look me in the eye, despite the absolute wave of desire I felt coming off him when I'd shut up his inferiors.

He pauses before we leave. "You know this means you probably won't be able to work here anymore, right?"

My stomach sinks and a it feels like an icy blast hits me right in the chest. "What? Why?"

He shakes his head. "It's against policy to use your powers on others. Some of them could sue saying they were harmed, or under duress in making a critical decision for the future of this enterprise."

Shit. I hadn't thought of that. As usual I'd acted on impulse. And in that moment of reckless impulsivity I may have done irreparable damage to my career.

(Okay, that's the most adult-y thing I've ever said and I'm pretty proud of myself.)

"That's not fucking fair!" I whine. (Annnd there goes my shining moment of maturity down the drain.)

"I know," he soothes, pushing his glasses up on his nose. Oh god damn, I love when he does that. "But it's not my decision. It'll be left up to the higher powers."

"Fuck them! I helped you! You have to tell them that I helped you, Marcus.."

For a moment I can feel the mixed emotions he's going through, regret and sorrow mainly. "Did you.." he starts to say, and my heart skips many beats because I already know the question burning in his mind.

He clears his throat and looks at me with those baby cow eyes behind those glasses. "Did you ever use your powers on me?" He pauses because he senses my struggle. "The truth, Cat," he insists, voice soft, like we're talking friend-to-friend instead of boss-to-employee.

"No," I lie, schooling my features into the epitome of innocence: eyes wide, forehead slightly creased as if to say I would never.

But I did. (I'll get to that part later.)

Marcus looks relieved. "I appreciate your candor, Miss Cruz." (Oh, I guess we're back to boss/employee status again.)

"Yeah, anytime," I mutter, glancing around the room and making sure it's tidy before we leave.

Not even five minutes after I get back to my desk Marcus comes out from his office, a harried look on his face, and he's unable to meet my eyes. He gives no reference as to where he's going but I can already tell. He's off to a meeting. About me. About my sudden and rather vulgar display of power.

I don't often feel anxious but this is one of those scenarios where I actually do, and that anxiety sits like a rock in the pit of my stomach. No matter how many times I check my lipstick in the mirror or update my social media apps, the brief peace I'm granted dissipates and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

The clock makes its interminable half-moon from the twelve to the six and that's when Marcus returns, his footsteps not as hurried as before, yet anxious energy emanates from him like radioactivity. I try not to look too hopeful. What if they've decided to fire me?

Or worse. they could ask me to work with them, buddy up on missions. No thank you.

"What'd the jury say?" I ask as he comes around to my side of the desk.

He's quiet a moment before he nods. "The higher-ups think it's best if you take a couple days vacation."

"With pay?"

"No," he says, and his countenance grows stern as he adds, "and don't try to Jedi mind-trick me into saying yes. It's not my decision. And frankly watching you do that is kind of creepy."

I flash back briefly to the bright burst of lust I'd read in his brain shortly after telling off the damned Heroics. Does he know I know? Was it just a knee-jerk reaction? Does he not like me back that way?

Again, not that I like him that way, it just feels nice to be crushed on.

But if he finds me creepy, that's almost as good.

"Okay, fine. But Marcus, do I still have a job here?"

He can't bullshit me and he knows it. "I don't know. When you come back on Friday you'll be expected to give your own account of what happened, along with some tests they want to run.. your abilities and all that. And a thorough background check. It appears we never gave you one."

Oh, they did one all right, I just made damn sure it turned out completely in my favor.

"So that's it? A little slap on the wrist? 'Bad girl, Cat, mind your manners better next time Cat'?" I ask hopefully. When Marcus blushes I take a little peek into his mind hoping to see him imagining giving me a spanking, but then suddenly he blocks me out.

"I told you to stop that," he warns.

He's pretty sexy when he's strict.

"Alright, alright," I relent, backing off. "But I'm serious.. if they want to go hard on me then you've gotta swing for me, Marcus."

"I can't promise anything," he says with a sigh. "But I'll try."

"Do, or do not. There is no try," I say in my Yoda voice.

He scoffs, turning a little pink. "It's going to be very quiet and very boring without you here. I'll do what I can.."

tagging the peeps who showed interest when this baby was a wip: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @burntheedges @sunshinehaze1 @joelalorian @604to647 @almostfoxglove @inept-the-magnificent

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @puddles221b @bunniboo0015

@happylove1223 @angiewatson

Comments and reblogs appreciated!! 🖤🖤

#pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom #ppcu #marcus moreno #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno x ofc #we can be heroes #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal cinematic universe

64 notes · View notes

hatsbuckets · 3 months ago

Note

Oh god you didn’t have to write the actual Price death scene after he retired. I love it. I love how domestic it is. I love how peaceful it is. 😭♥️🙏🏻 cottagecore of my dreams thank you. I got a kick out of imagining their little girl explaining how she has FIVE DADS, and no one dares makes fun of her because her five dads, well enough said lol

omg I'm so glad you like it, I just really wanted to give that peaceful feeling so I'm so glad it hit... 😭🙏 (reffed post)

I low-key have soooo many slice of moments from that one blurb... so I'm gonna rant now.

like:

They each get a nickname.

Price is "Dad" of course, "Daddy" when she's young, and "Pops" when she's teasing. ("C’mon, Pops, race me to the swing!" “Call me that again and I’ll sic Ghost on you.” "Liar")

Nikolai gets "Batya" (Батя) after she hears him called that a few times by family/friends. Of course, his heart melts the first time he hears it. ("Batya, I packed you the last cookie. Don’t tell Uncle Johnny.") I think he calls her solnyshko in return. <3

Soap gets "Uncle Johnny" most of the time. But the more Johnny says, 'come to your da, dearest' when she's little, She starts calling him "Da" and he's a blubbering crying mess the first time. She also calls him Soap because it's funny.

Simon gets the everyday "Uncle Si" (he loves it) and occasionally, when she's younger, tired/upset or in her feels, he gets "Daddy." (He absolutely doesn't expect it, but now he keeps a stuffie in his room so she can use it with her nightmares.)

Kyle gets "Abang Kyky (keekee)" after hearing Kyle's mom/siblings call him that. He melts because she does it unprompted. (thank you @goatgoesmbe I love the indo gaz hc so much y'all should seriously go look at it.)

Kate is "Aunt Kate" or just "Kate" (their little girl is obsessed with Kate (and her wife) when she visits.)

Collectively they are "My Dads”. “My dads will kick your dad’s ass." “I have five dads.” “No, I’m not kidding. Do you want pictures?” (a picture of them after an op that she got from Soap, carried in her bag. They look terrifying.)

Their little girl gets extra cupcakes at every school function because they attend everything they can, and they give her their cupcakes.

Simon, when he arrives and stays, never misses a function. (Neither does Price or Nikolai) but Simon made a vow.

She knows how to hide a body (it started as a joke but now you can thank Nikolai) and also how to plant wildflowers.

She learns to love through quiet actions, watching Nik and Price especially. She learns to make everyone's tea just the way they like it, learns when to hold a hand and when to kiss a forehead. She's so emotionally intelligent, and it's all because they have peace, and they get to love.

“Maggie chewed through the tomato netting again.” (She was being a good dog chasing the racoons away!)

Soap teaching their girl to paint rainbows on the small barn's walls.

Kyle making her wear a helmet on the tire swing Nik built, because “just in case.”

Her coming home crying once, and within an hour, four trained operatives and one terrifying Russian (and a fucking CIA agent) are planning how to emotionally (or tactically) destroy a 10-year-old’s bully. (It always ends with her being kind and 'taking the high road' but also kicking the bully's ass if needed.)

Yeah. Them.

#cod #big ask button #oops i kept going #tf 141 #captain john price #nikolai cod #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #poly 141 #adding a tag?#141's kiddo #I love them your honor #where the hell did this come from #thank you anon :)

65 notes · View notes

city-of-ladies · 3 months ago

Text

"Chen Biniang, d. 1279 (Southern Song dynasty), of Chaozhou (in the east of present-day Guangdong Province) is remembered for her loyalty and the patriotic sentiments she expressed in her poem “Farewell to My Husband” (Ci lang xing). After years of resistance, in 1276 the Southern Song court finally capitulated to the Yuan dynasty (1271–1368) when the Mongol armies of Qubilai Khan (1215–1294) captured the capital, Lin’an (present-day Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province). Remnants of the imperial family sought refuge elsewhere and by 1278 had fled to various places in Guangdong and nearby Kowloon, including present-day Kowloon City on Kowloon Peninsula, Hong Kong, where a monument to the events of that time still stands.

Chen Biniang and her husband, General Zhang Da (d. 1279), were among those who accompanied the eight-year-old last emperor of Southern Song, Di Bing (r. 1278–1279). When she and her husband parted at Haizhou (in present-day Guangdong Province), Chen Biniang wrote the poem for which she is remembered, here translated by Lily Xiao Hong Lee, encouraging him to remain loyal in the face of almost certain death and to staunchly defend the child emperor, giving no thought to the fate of his loved ones:

My husband, you have in your bosom the king of Song, You bid me farewell to pursue the journey by the boundless sea. There are traitors and wicked men but I will resist them. Behold my sword with its frosty blade. Once you begin your journey, don’t look back. The north wind whistles through the trees at Humen. The order is to pacify the road along Chaozhou. When you have recovered the Central Plains, announce it to the nation. You have a life, pledge it to the nation; Only by forgetting your home can you avenge the nation. I have a life, I pledge it to you. Don’t say that because a woman like me is with the army, It diminishes the army. I wish I could wash away the opposition to women’s aspirations,

A thousand years of it. Shed blood, not tears. I urge your horse forward, saying good-bye at the boat, If the shame of our nation could be eradicated, What more could I ask?

It seems from this that, during the last stage of his struggle, Chen Biniang did not accompany her husband and his army because of the traditional belief that the presence of a woman would be counterproductive. However, it also seems to imply that up until that time she had been with him. The place where they parted may have been Chaozhou, which was somehow mistaken as Haizhou: Haizhou was in Jiangsu Province, north of the Southern Song capital of Lin’an, while Chaozhou was on the coast of Guangdong Province. Mention in this poem of Chaozhou and Humen, both of which were in Guangdong, makes it more likely that they said farewell in Chaozhou.

From Kowloon, the boy emperor’s court moved to Yamen in present-day Donghuan, also in Guangdong. It is said that over 100,000 Mongol and Chinese soldiers perished during the three-week-long Battle of Yamen (Yamen zhanyi) in March 1279. The Chinese were defeated, and the boy emperor is believed to have drowned, possibly in the arms of a loyal minister. It is assumed that, as Southern Song collapsed, Chen Biniang and her husband also died during the fighting."

Zheng Bijun, Li Guotong, "Chen Biniang", in: Lee Lily Xiao Hong, Wiles Sue (eds.), Biographical Dictionary of Chinese Women, Volume II: Tang Through Ming 618 - 1644

#chen biniang #history #women in history #13th century #women's history #historyedit #warrior women #women warriors #female poets #female authors #feminism #china #chinese history #asian history #song dynasty #yuan dynasty

58 notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write part3 of stepmother reader? I'm waiting for that!!! ❤️❤️

Yes! omg I'm so sorry this too so long! Thank you for being patient with me💗

König x Stepmother!Reader Part 3 (fem)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

MDNI🔞

Tags: @lhhlver

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, p in v

1.5k word count

“Mein Sohn, das ist wunderbar!” Irma, König’s mom, exclaims as she hugs you tightly.

König stands with his hands on his hips, a prideful smile on his face. His eyes trace your body up and down. He just broke the news to her that you're engaged. Felix wrote him out of the will and sent you divorce papers. That was his chance to swoop in and take you as his own.

Irma lets go of the hug and looks at you with a wide smile on her face, “I’ve been waiting for him to settle down and make a family!”

“Mama,” König rolled his eyes and chuckles. He’s a fully grown 46-year-old man and his mom still treats him like he’s a child. He knows it’s out of love, so he doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

“Was? Ich bin so glücklich!” Irma laughs, walking to König and pinching his cheeks. He laughs and looks over at you with a blush on his face.

“She still thinks I’m a child.” He chuckles.

“Ja! Natürlich, bist du mein Sohn!” Irma walks to the kitchen, gesturing for you both to follow her. “Setz dich.”

König pulls out a chair for you at a small wooden table in his mom's kitchen. You take a seat and König sits next to you. Irma makes a pot of coffee as she continues to speak.

“So, did you visit your father yet?”

You look over at König, and he looks back at you with a smirk.

“Nein. Why?” He clears his throat.

“I heard he married some 20 something-year-old.” Irma sits at the table with a humored look on her face.

“Hm? Really?” König tries to act surprised.

“They won’t last a year.” Irma laughs, causing you and König to laugh.

The situation was awkward, and you couldn’t wait for the topic of conversation to change. König can see that you’re nervous, so he reaches over and places his hand on your bouncing legs. He gives you a wink and squeezes your thigh lightly.

Irma sees her son acting gentle with you and she can feel the love radiating from him to you. König has only ever had two relationships serious enough to bring home to meet her. Both times, König was standoffish with them. With you, he seems like he can relax. It’s all she’s ever wanted for her baby, König.

“I love how you look at her,” Irma says while watching the two of you.

You smile at her and then look back at König, placing your hand on his.

“How did the two of you meet?” Irma asks innocently, unaware that you’re still currently legally married to her ex-husband and König’s father.

You stare at her for a while, unsure of how you should answer.

“We met through a friend,” König covers quickly. It’s not exactly a lie.

Irma doesn’t question it, she’s just happy to see her son so happy and in love. After spending an entire week with his mom, you both say goodbye. Irma stands in the doorway watching you both get into the car and drive off, a wide smile on her face. You wave to her until she’s out of sight.

“I love her.” You turn to König smiling.

“I’m a lucky man. The perfect partner and sweetest mom.”

König wraps his large hand around your thigh, squeezing as his gaze shifts from the road to you for a split second. You can see the joy radiating from him, the fact his mom loves you and you love her means the world to him. He lets out a soft hum and nods his head as he drives down the country roads.

His eyes flicker to the GPS that has their ETA on screen. Those forty-five minutes just seem so unbearable. It’s been one week without your body, his mom being Christian, she forced you both to sleep alone. Whenever he would try to slip into your room, you’d turn him down wanting to be respectful of his mother. Slowly he moves his hand further up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up more slightly.

“König, focus on driving.” You look at him with a smirk.

“I can multitask.”

He continues to move his hand up your thigh, feeling you as you adjust your body and spread wider for him. His fingers brush up on the soft fabric of your panties, moving up and down in a teasing manner. There is no way he can possibly make it almost an hour.

König pulls his hand away and turns the car off the road and into the grassy field, turning off his headlights. Once the car is parked, he undoes the seat belt, and leans his seat all the way back. His hands go to his hands to quickly undo them and look over at you.

“Come here.”

“König someone could see.” You say with a light chuckle in his voice, looking around to see the isolated landscape in the darkness of night.

“Who? No one lives here.” He reaches a hand out to you, his pants now down around his knees. “Come ride my cock, Liebling.”

You unbuckle yourself and pull down your panties. As you're about to toss them down, König snatches them from your hands. He instantly puts them up to his nose to smell you. You raise your dress up to your thighs and straddle his body. One foot on either side of him as you grab the car's grab handle above you to help balance yourself.

König reaches up and pulls down the top of your dress to expose your breasts to him in the dim moonlight. His hands cup them, squeezing them gently, causing you to whimper with sensitivity. He just takes it as a sign that your period will start soon.

“Es tut mir Leid.” He whispers as he sits up to gently suck on your left nipple while caressing your right.

His cock twitches underneath your heat, the feeling of your hardened nipple in his mouth causing his excitement to grow more and more. He pulls his head back, grabbing the back of your head to guide your mouth to his. Your lips press against his, eyes closing shut as you lower yourself onto his cock.

The feeling of your cunt swallowing his cock, your wet heat intoxicating him. König leans back in his seat, allowing himself to melt away into pleasure. Your slick cunt glides up and down his length, each time you sit fully on his cock he whimpers out with pleasure. He can’t help but to thrust up and meet your every bounce.

“König…” Your moans sound pathetic as your legs begin to get tired already.

König loves hearing your voice call his name out like that. The fact you are slowing down is no problem as he grabs you, leaning you forward slightly. His hands wrap around the flesh of your supple ass as he thrust up more rapidly.

Your hands reach forward to rest on his chest, feeling his muscles flex under your hands. König watches as your eyes flutter back. Loud pants coming from him as he focuses on making your orgasm before he does. You lean forward, your lips pressing hard against his muffling your own moans.

With four more harsh thrust, you unravel around his cock. You pull away from his lips as you cry out in euphoria. König’s eyes watch you, traveling down to your breasts before looking back up at your face. His voice is soft as he encourages you in German. He can feel his balls tightening, needing to cum.

“May I cum, Liebling.”

“Please.”

With weak wobbly legs you steady yourself, leading forward once more, and moving your ass in a twerking motion. The feeling of your soaking silky walls bouncing around him with all the energy you have left is pure perfection. You’re always dedicated to making sure he feels satisfied.

“Mein Gott, Liebling. You ride my cock so well. Please don’t stop.”

König moves his hands away from your ass so he doesn’t interfere with your rhythm. Letting himself enjoy the show of your breasts bouncing and your face twisted in pleasure. He’s on the brink of orgasm.

“Y/n…” König moans in a deep rumbling groan. “Oh fuck, ja.”

You lower yourself all the way down on your cock, feeling him throb as he releases inside of you. Your lips meet his neck, kissing his pale skin as his hands grab your hips to keep you in place. He doesn’t know how he went a week without your sweet little pussy.

Later at home as you both are naked and getting ready to shower together, as König leans against the wall behind you looking at your breasts in the mirror’s reflection. He’s noticed that your nipples look slightly darker and you’re a little bit chubbier now, not that he minds at all. He just knows what it looks like.

“Liebling,” König walks up behind you and moves his hands around the front of you before cupping your breast with his large hands. His pointer and thumb finding your nipples and toys with your nipples.

“Hm?” You rest your body back on his and enjoy the feeling. Your eyes find him in the reflection.

“You know I love you so much?” He kisses the top of your head.

“I love you too.”

Part 4