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cloverque · 1 year ago

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paper heart (prosciutto)

masterlist, ch 1: panic at the gala

shortly after you were assigned the mission, giorno cordially invited you to a gala. seeing as how you'll be away from the group for a while, you decided to take part, just this time.

5174 words

After we moisturise, the next step is to apply sunscreen. I use this brand from Dior– the latest Diorsnow sunscreen with UV protection!

You sat on your bathroom counter, swinging your feet. With a Youtube video playing on your phone, you gently patted sunscreen into your face. The girl in the video– a young lady with rich pink hair– showcased a white tube. Yours sat on your lap while other products were scattered on the counter.

I'm a huge fan of this brand. I always buy their best sellers and give them to my best friends.

You smiled knowingly. As the girl on the screen rambled, you began touching up on your face. Just the bare minimum, seeing as how you were already late.

During your meeting with Giorno, which occurred a week ago, he invited you to a party he was hosting. He had handed you a formal invitation, like always: a letter stamped with a wax seal. To attend or not to attend– you sat on the fence until the last minute.

When he first took over, you happily turned up for his gala. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day, but you swore off the rest ever since. The reason was simple: you didn't want to work overtime. When you showed up, you quickly realised you had to socialise with coworkers outside usual office hours.

Rest was important! How else would you stay in tip top shape? So there was no way you would sacrifice your precious down-time over fancy parties. Even if they were hosted by Don Giovanna.

So what implored you to accept his invite? Soon you would be deployed for your mission; possibly far from home for a while. With that in mind, you wanted to hang out with your friends for a bit. But besides that, there was another driving factor. You stared at your reflection, stroking your lashes with mascara.

Curiosity, it was curiosity.

"I'd like you to be there. There's... Someone I'd like you to meet," he said that day. He pushed the envelope towards you with a faint smile.

You took it in your hands and blinked. "An important person?"

He fiddled with the ladybug brooch on his chest. A faint tinge of red dusted his cheeks. With a solemn nod, he planted a seed of curiosity in your mind. You never knew he was capable of being abashed.

"I wonder who he's talking about," you pondered as you checked your work. What kind of person were they for him to make that sort of look?

A knock on your bathroom door derailed your train of thought. "(y/n), you've been in there for an hour. What's taking you so long?"

"Oh, Fugo," You carefully swept a balm against your lips. "You should know by now not to rush a lady. Especially when she's in the bathroom."

"Give me a break. I've been standing here waiting like an idiot for thirty minutes."

"Some gentleman you are..." You muttered begrudgingly. It was him who volunteered to chaperone you to the party in the first place.

After his redemption– when he defeated the Narcotics Team for Giogio– he managed to tone it down a notch. The therapy he sought worked out too. His anger management issues had gotten better, but there was still a limit to his patience. And once that figurative thread broke, it would take more than apologies to placate him.

With that in mind, you hopped off the counter. You took one last look in the mirror. Tonight you were dressed in a satin backless dress. Its spaghetti-thin straps criss crossed behind, showing your supple back. The dress also had a side slit that teased your thighs. To complete the look, a silk shawl draped over your shoulders and around your arms.

Your outfit was a perfect mix between sexy and chic. A smile crept up your face and you blew a kiss at your reflection. Feeling like you could take on the world (and a furious Fugo), you were about to leave when you jumped up.

"Ah! I almost forgot," you chuckled and picked up the pin on the counter. It was a hair pin, a metallic accessory fashioned into a unique heart shape. You clipped it onto your hair and hurried out the door.

Standing outside was none other than Pannacotta Fugo, dressed in a custom tuxedo. His hair was pushed back, with a few strands hanging over his knitted brows. The strawberry blonde had his arms crossed, fingers tapping impatiently on his bicep.

"Are you finally done?" He muttered through clenched teeth.

"Gee, thanks for waiting," You rolled your eyes and walked past him. He trembled with frustration, and you almost felt bad. Tardiness was one of his biggest pet peeves, and for him to be late, without meaning too... Well, you had better head out, fast!

You swiftly packed your purse and the two of you left your apartment. At the entrance awaited a squeaky clean limousine. Fugo settled into a seat across from you, muttering about how embarrassingly unpunctual he was. You glanced out the window and as the car's engine revved to life again, you began to drown him out. The car picked up speed and zoomed to its destination: Giorno's mansion.

✶

By the time you arrived, it was nearly ten. An hour had passed since it had started. The car stopped outside the mansion's grand gates. An armed guard approached the driver's side and after a swift identification check, he opened the gate and the car pulled into the front yard. The chauffeur stopped the limousine outside the front door, where a pair of butlers stood. Wordlessly, they opened the doors for you and Fugo, and led you two up the stairs and into the mansion.

A red carpet was rolled out in the hallway. Sculptures, marble heads and oil paintings lined the walls, archaic pieces that Giorno attained for who-knows-how-many lire. Soft music lingered in the air whilst you began your ascend up a flight of stairs.

The long, winding staircase led the two of you to the second floor, which was decorated with more relics of the past. A few guests stood idly in the hallways, talking in hushed whispers. A couple swayed drunkenly beside a portrait of Don Giovanna. A glass of wine jangled from each of their hands. Hopefully they would not splash it on the painting.

After twisting and turning in the hallway, you finally found the source of the music. Another pair of butlers opened the doors for your friend and you.

The once muffled tunes converted to melodious harmonies, courtesy of a live orchestra. Violins, cellos and brass instruments and a piano were at their disposal. Situated on one end, they played a classical piece. On another side was a buffet spread, with cakes and delicacies a group of women were fawning over. You were soon to be one of them.

In the center people chatted idly while some danced to the lovely music. You caught sight of Mista, chatting with a lady in earnest. He was free of his sweater and instead dressed in a wonderful three piece suit. As for Giogio, who stood by the gunslinger, he was clad in stunning white and gold, wearing a soft primrose pink dress shirt. His long hair fell in voluminous waves behind him.

You searched the group they were with. Everybody maintained a fair amount of distance from each other. Which one of them was his special somebody?

You were about to greet them when your companion grabbed you by the end of your shawl. Fugo lifted up a finger, "I have some business to attend to, so I'll be back later. Remember, if you want to leave let me know. I will accompany you back, you hear me?"

You pried your accessory from him and rolled your eyes. "Yessir. See you later, sir."

The strawberry blonde exhaled, possibly from annoyance. He disappeared into the crowd and you gazed over at the dessert table. You visibly gasped and placed your hand over your heart.

It was radiant! In your sights were numerous three-tiered stands. An assortment of fairy cakes, with different frosting and toppings sparkled and shone on the stands. You licked your lips and rubbed your hands together, all goblin-like.

"Hehe... You can tell me about your special someone later, Giogio. Right now it's chow time!"

. . .

"Are you ladies seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Indeed... How can she pig out during such an elegant event like this?"

"The real question is how did she end up here in the first place?"

You turned to the women standing a few feet away. Just like you, they were dressed elegantly in gowns you saw on fashion runways. You chewed on your tenth fairy cake.

Even under your watchful gaze, they continued with their not-so inconspicuously whispers. You blinked innocently.

Rosa Romano. Caro Bianchi. Helen Bellomo. Daughters of high-ranking officials in Passione.

Rosa, the first born of Capo Romano. He dabbled in the gambling sector, a notable stand user. But unlike her father, she had not inherited a stand. Caro Bianchi. Born out of wedlock, her parents were faded aristocrats. They had history with the group, before Giorno took over. Also not a stand user. And Helen, daughter of a tycoon. Her family and her were sworn members of the gang. None of which were stand users.

In short, they were nothing to be concerned about. And from their ignorance, they didn't know you were part of the Passione's Escort Team. Excellent.

You finished the last of your cake and began on another. As you ate, you tuned them out and focused on the rich creamy treats. It mattered not how others perceived you, so long as you were happy. And with nothing but years of successful missions under your name, not even the Boss had a right to deny you of sugary, gastronomic delights.

"I can't believe you're actually here! You, who stays away from all of the Don's parties. Who would've thought?"

You blinked and a woman came into view. A familiar face had appeared. Fifty-something, the woman had her silver hair in 1940's waves. She wore a vintage cocktail dress, with matching elbow length gloves. A unique heart-shaped mole rested above her cupid's bow.

Your eyes lit up in recognition, "Signora Lucia?! Capo, I–"

"Nuh-uh! Today I'm not your Capo, my dear." She put a gloved finger to your lips. You fluttered your lashes, cross-eyed as you looked at her finger. She smiled cheekily. "Tonight I'm just a regular old lady."

You tilted your head, confused. She waved a waiter down and cherry-picked a glass of wine.

This lady here was none other than the Escort Team's capable leader– Signora Lucia. She was an aged and loyal member of Passione, and had served as the team's chief for years. Even during the period when you betrayed the old boss, Diavolo.

Giorno managed to trick everyone into thinking he had always been their leader, but you suspected Signora Lucia knew better. But even if she did, her loyalty never wavered. She was just as dedicated to her new Don just as she was to her first. And she was benevolent to you when you became branded as a traitor, later accepting you back with open arms.

Signora Lucia is a strange person. Even I have a hard time guessing what she's thinking half the time... You ruminated.

Gingerly swirling its contents, she gazed at you through hooded eyes. "This gala is swarming with the rich. I'm guessing today's a special occasion."

Your eyes flicked to the group of girls, still standing nearby. "Now that you mentioned it, there's also an unusually high number of women present today. I wonder if something's up."

With that in mind, you scanned the crowds for Giorno and Mista. They were preoccupied with another group of people, though this time a lady was between them. Her arm was looped around the blonde's, a dazzling hair pin in her bun. She wore an elegant cheongsam, and like her dress, you guessed she was from the East.

Who is she? She wasn't there a few moments ago. Could she be another woman Giorno has bagged tonight? Geez, talk about suave.

You looked down at your plate, piled with stacks of paper cups. The trio from earlier were now looking in your friend's direction. Like you, they ruminated over the unknown stranger attached to him. Subconsciously, your eye twitched. Signora Lucia took a tentative sip of her wine, watching you.

"I need some fresh air," You whispered to yourself. Leaving your Capo behind, you made your way to one of the many balconies in the room.

When nobody was looking, you pushed open the door just enough to slip through. You quietly closed it behind you and approached the railing. Leaning against the cold stone, your gaze instantly fell on the courtyard below. Even in the darkness of night you could see a table, the only furniture in sight. You and your friends would enjoy tea parties on that same table, sharing snacks and stories with one another.

An image of a certain blonde, smiling, swiftly surfaced in your mind. An unknown sadness bloomed in your heart. You already knew what it was, but you didn't understand why.

When did these feelings start? You weren't sure. They certainly weren't there when you first met him; back at the hideout in the vineyard many years back. Nor was it when he saved you from the persistent stand in the plane to Sardinia.

A gentle breeze tousled your tresses. Gently, you tucked some hair behind your ear. "Maybe I don't actually like him. Maybe I'm mixing up admiration with this."

Crrk...

The doors creaked open and you turned around. A man slowly stepped onto the balcony. He was dressed in beige and cream hues, a tweed jacket hanging over his broad shoulders. Champagne yellow hair was waxed back neatly, secured in little notches tied behind his head. A cigarette rested between his lips.

"Oh, I didn't know this place was already taken," His voice was a deep rumble. He held the little stick between his fingers. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," You gestured at the space around you. "There's room for more."

He joined you, back pressed against the stone balustrade. With a fancy little lighter, he lit up his cigarette. The blonde man took a long drag before puffing out a cloud of smoke. The scent of tobacco was sure to cling to your clothes, even if you kept your distance. Its dark tendrils began billowing in the balcony. Silently, the two of you stood together, watching the stars twinkle.

You knew who he was, and perhaps he knew who you were too. But your objective today was to find out who Giogio's special someone was, not to exchange formalities with him. You opted to stay quiet until he spoke up.

"I overestimated the crowd today," he muttered, and you glanced at him. His brows were knitted together, fingers in a little v-sign as he held the cigarette. "The last party wasn't as busy as this one."

"It's been a few years since I last attended, so I can't comment," you half-heartedly stated.

He raised a singular brow, "A few years, huh? Hm. I believe I've never seen you before. Is this our first meeting?"

You crossed your arms on the railing and glanced up at him. A finger rested on your lips as you exhaled nonchalantly. "Who knows? But I know who you are. You're an assassin from La Squadra Esecuzioni."

Quiet resumed between you and the man. Without warning, the man swiftly crushed the cig against the stone. You straightened up slowly, holding his gaze. He was a man of average height, a head taller than you. He glared down at you as you peered up at him indifferently.

"Should I be worried about you, signora?"

"'I'm nothing more than what you actually see, but I am also the complete opposite.' A famous singer, Keren Ann, once said that," You answered, crossing your arms. The tails of your shawl fluttered in the cold breeze. An unassuming smile graced your lips.

"With that said, please decide that yourself, signore Prosciutto."

"Ahem. I hope I'm not interrupting something."

You froze at the sound of a familiar, buttery voice. Your face fell as you slowly turned. Giorno stood at the entrance, his brows furrowed in uncertainty. The lady from before stared curiously at you and Prosciutto. Your eyes fell on their intertwined arms.

"Giogio," you cleared your throat. Why were you suddenly feeling restless? You fiddled with your purse. "Um, no. You're not interrupting anything."

You ignored Prosciutto's questioning gaze as he side-eyed you. Giorno visibly relaxed and he smiled faintly.

"I'm glad that you could make it. Fugo told me a while ago that the two of you had arrived safely, but I was busy attending to some guests. Forgive me."

"Yeah, you were real busy back there, huh?" You teased half-heartedly before swallowing. "So um, who's this beautiful lady over here?"

He gestured to the both of you, "Let me introduce you two. This is (y/n l/n), a close friend of mine. She's like family."

You placed a hand on your chest and bowed slightly, lowering your head. These were pretentious formalities, but you didn't want to embarrass the head of Passione. Your nails dug into your dress discreetly.

"And this lovely lady here is–"

An awful sound cut him off. Screams of terror filled the ballroom and you peered past them. Your eyes widened, the sea of people were moving in different directions all at once. A familiar friend shoved past a couple and burst into the balcony.

"Fugo!" Giorno met him halfway. His voice was steady yet demanding. "Tell me what's happening, quickly."

"It's a stand attack! We need to evacuate everyone, Giogio." He panted, gripping his arm. Something pitter pattered onto the floor, and you realised Fugo was bleeding.

A gunshot rang out, and you hoped it was Mista firing. Giorno laid a hand on Fugo's arm, and his stand materialised beside him. A golden glow surrounded his wounded appendage, and you glanced over to the lady beside the guys, looking lost like a lamb in the wilderness.

More screams erupted and you whipped your head around. Fugo sucked in a pained breath and gritted his teeth. "We have to do something about these people. Most of them aren't even stand users– they're defenseless!"

"That's where I come in," you held Giorno and Fugo's confused gazes. Conviction shone in your eyes. "There's no time to evacuate, so I'll be taking them to safety myself."

Passione's Don nodded solemnly. He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm counting on you." You nodded and Fugo and him rushed into the fray.

Prosciutto and the lady remained with you and you turned to them. "This is gonna get freaky, so stick close to me." Obediently, they shuffled close as you opened your purse. You fished out a notepad, one of the many you kept within your little bag. With a flip of your wrist, you whipped it open.

"Paper Heart!" A (colour) aura enveloped you and the heart-shaped pin in your hair. The metal eroded away and became an origami-like texture. "Transport all the guests into this piece of paper!"

Fwoop!

The three of you were sucked into the notepad. It fell onto the ground and began changing its form to a paper heart, shaped much like your hairpin. Transported into a realm of blank whiteness, you stood among a horde of confused and panicked people. With a quick head count, you estimated about a hundred or so were present.

The three women from the desert table stood together, clinging to each other. They were almost pitiful with their panicked rambling. You cupped your hands and bellowed, "Don't worry, the Boss will take care of things from here. I've brought you to a secure place, the enemy can't come here. You're safe now!"

Heaves of relief filled the space. Luckily most in Passione knew what a stand was.. So it took little brain cells to put two and two together. You gazed up at the blank ceiling.

"So you're a stand user," Prosciutto drawled. You had forgotten the man existed in the heat of the moment. He glanced around, curiously. "Interesting."

You chose not to respond. Crossing your arms, you stood quietly, thinking. Only you could allow a person to enter and leave this paper realm. Even if somebody discovered the paper heart in the balcony, there was no possible way to enter. And if they ripped the paper to shreds, Paper Heart would transport everyone to one of the many notebooks stashed away in your purse.

As for what laid beyond this world, you had willed for Giorno and his personal guards to remain. Mista and Fugo included. Your stand wasn't the confrontational type, unlike theirs. Hoping this was enough, you looked up at the colourless ceiling.

A bead of sweat slid down your cheek. You wiped it away and realised your pulse had spiked. You held a hand over your chest. Transporting this many people at once was taxing on you, a feat you just recklessly pulled off.

Good grief, what fools would challenge the boss during an event of such a large scale? You sighed. It was a good thing you chose to attend the party.

"Um, I hate to be that one person... But what's happening, (l/n)?" The lady in the cheongsam muttered. She gazed around curiously and frantically. "Where's Giorno...?"

You watched her from your peripheral. Based on her concern, you figured she was a non-stand user. It wouldn't make sense if you shared your stand ability–not like you wanted to– to a complete stranger, even if she was close to Giorno. That was a secret, like your identity. So you decided against it.

"He's probably neutralising the enemy as we speak. He'll be fine. But, uh, are you feeling okay?"

She nodded meekly, and you breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing you'd want was for her to be hurt. She seemed like someone special, after all.

Wait, hold that thought...

"Miss," she turned to you with her big doe eyes. You swallowed nervously and pointed a finger, "Could you be... His–"

A shrill scream pierced the air. You whipped your head around as your heart pounded anxiously. A beady-eyed man held a woman in a headlock, his bicep rippling underneath his suit as he choked her. She squirmed against him, raking his arms. The other guests were pressed against the walls of Paper Heart, trembling like mice cornered by a cat.

He's one of them...!?

You reached out and he spun to you, pointing a gun. A Beretta, standard police edition. Squinting your eyes, you lowered your arms.

"I'm guessing you're one of those freaks with abilities!" He practically dragged the lady with him. The thug stood face to face with you, so close that you could feel his lukewarm breath. "I'm taking her hostage. I have no clue in hell where I am, but I wancha ta bring me back ta my buddies."

He pressed the barrel against the lady's head. Tears streamed down her makeup-caked face. Mascara smudged against her wide eyes. He sported a shit-eating grin as you frowned. "If ya try anything funny, I'll blow her brains out, ya hear?"

"P-Please... Help..." croaked his victim. Now that you were up close, you realised it was Rosa, Capo Romano's daughter. You bit your lip.

Was her father not here today? Where was a powerful stand user when you needed one? The fear in everyone's faces told you everything you needed to know: you were alone. Clenching her fist, you narrowed your eyes.

I need a plan. But what do I do?

You looked around for ideas and when you met the eyes of the guests, they screamed pleas of help with just their stares alone. You locked eyes with the Eastern lady too, and she was gazing at you with hope and anticipation.

You inhaled deeply and tried to gather your thoughts. The man hollered about something in the background as you began drowning him out.

Don't forget, you have the upper hand here. This is your world and stand ability, after all.

"Fine. I'll take you out. But first, I have a question for you," You placed a hand on your hip and pointed at him, jutting your chin out. "Tell me. Do you wipe yourself after a dump, or are you the kinda guy to use the bidet?"

The man cocked an unkempt brow. He bared his teeth, "Huh?! What the hell are you asking, bitch?!"

A barrage of his saliva and spit landed on your dress. You wiped it away and frowned. "C'mon, just answer the question," You tilted your head mockingly.

He hesitated before rolling his eyes, "I wipe myself after, duh. I don't like the feeling of water on my ass– Huh?"

The thug glanced around, gun in hand. He looked under his arm questioningly; his hostage had disappeared. Everybody else had too. Then he realised he was in a toilet cubicle.

"W-Where am I?!"

"You're slow. Slow to realise the predicament you're in, I mean."

Your eyes met his as you stood at full height before him. He, who was stuck on the surface of toilet paper, squirmed in his confines. He pounded his fist against the tissue. However, as if he was trapped behind a concrete wall, the paper refused to give way. The man began sweating profusely.

"You conniving woman! I told you to bring me back to my friends!"

You smiled sweetly and lowered yourself to eye level with your tiny captive. "Did you forget what I said?" Your orbs darkened as your lips thinned.

"I said I'd take you out myself."

He hollered profanities as you began unrolling the toilet paper. With a bundle in your hand, you crunched it into a ball and tossed it into the toilet bowl. Wordlessly, you flushed the man down. His garbled curses faded out and disappeared.

You walked out of the cubicle and washed your hands. Paper Heart allowed you to utilise anything as long as it was a form of paper. From bamboo paper, recycled sheets, newspapers... Teleporting from one source to another was child's play– and for those that remained in the paper realm, they were bound to it forever.

"That's what you get for thinking a woman is an easy target." You mumbled before summoning yourself back into the previous realm.

People fussed over Romano's daughter, who had coughed up a storm since you left her. A nasty bruise had formed itself around her neck. A cut traced her nape too. Everyone parted for you, and you kneeled beside her. She gazed at you with gratitude, a far different expression from your first encounter earlier.

"Thank you for saving my life. I don't know how you did it, but thank you..."

You managed a smile. As you rummaged through your purse, you took another notepad and ripped out a page. Carefully, you placed it over her cut. Like a regular bandaid, you plastered it to her skin. It gently fizzed into her skin, and the fleshy part of the wound was overlaid with paper.

She tenderly held her neck and you stood up. People rushed to help her to her feet, and you stepped aside. Suddenly, you heard a squeaky voice echo around you.

"(y/n), you're in there, right?" A hiccup followed after. You knowingly smiled. It was Number Five, one of Mista's Sex Pistols. "Mista and the others have dealt with the enemies! You can bring everyone out now."

"Roger, will do." You responded before turning to the guests. "We're busting out of here, everyone! Make sure not to leave anything behind. Once we leave this world, anything that remains will vanish."

You counted to ten and the pin on your hair glowed brightly. Everybody shimmered out of the notepad and returned to their original places. Your heels clacked against the balcony floor, along with the Eastern lady and Prosciutto. She leaned against the railing, cross eyed and with wobbly knees. The guests held their heads in their hands, groaning.

The after effects of entering and leaving the paper realm gave most people vertigo, but you overcame this ages ago. You expected the same wooziness from the champagne blonde hitman but to your surprise, he was perfectly fine. You held his gaze, confused. Was he a stand user all along?

An irk mark formed as your eye twitched. Then why the hell did you not help out earlier? Maybe this was his way of payback for my snarkiness earlier... Ugh. You clenched your teeth.

With a sharp exhale, you turned away and searched for your notepad. It had morphed back into a regular block of paper after everyone left it, and dusted it clean. Your hairpin had returned to its previous appearance as well. You slipped the notepad into your purse when a dishevelled Giorno burst into the balcony.

Running past you, he enveloped the lady in a hug and squeezed her. She disappeared in his larger frame, her lithe arms wrapped around his back halfway. The sight would've been funny if it weren't for the jealousy brewing in your chest.

After he got his fill of her, he turned to you. Gratitude shone in his viridescent gaze. "Thank you for protecting my fiancé, (y/n). You did well."

Your mouth slipped open as you gaped in shock. With your eyes shifting from him to her, to her to him, your mouth hung open silently. An ugly bitterness bubbled within your stomach, threatening to spill out of your oesophagus. Its claws raked into your heart, a stinging pain growing within.

Smile. Do it for him, a voice chastised you, and you snapped your mouth shut and smiled. You smiled brightly, so radiantly as if your heart didn't shatter into millions of fragments like glass.

"Your fiancé? Oh man, that's crazy!" You exclaimed as your insides grew numb. With a hand behind your head, you guffawed. "So she's the one you wanted me to meet all along! I guess I should've known, silly me."

"I hope it's not too sudden. I meant to tell you but the right moment never arose," Giorno looked apologetic. Was that a faint blush on his cheeks?

The blonde and his partner exchanged looks: they were beaming. You mustered your courage, but your heart was cold and your fingers dug into your palms. With all of the goodness in your heart, you bowed once more and spoke softly.

"Congratulations, Don Giovanna and... La Madrina."

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jojo-reader-hell · 2 years ago

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Head full of nothing but Trish x witch reader. Like the reader is really into tarot cards (her stand could also tie into it) and gives her girlfriend readings, making her protection jars, teaching her about crystals, teaching Trish how to manifest things easily ect. AND FOR CERTAIN TRISH WOULD LOVE GLAMOUR MAGIC

Yaaaaas. Admittedly I’m not as much in practice as I’d like to be, so reader is more casual brujerias.

I’d love to say she’s supportive off the bat, but this is spoiled Trish Una after all…

Ok but, let’s be honest and approach Miss “I only drink French Mineral Water” Una with the lenses that at first she thinks witchcraft is complete bullshit.

She would probably call you a weirdo for lighting incense or cleansing anything with moon water.

Tells you to stop sprinkling salt because it’s messing up the floor.

Also gets annoyed when you do random tarot pulls at the start of every week.

However, as my former Catholic friend from Italy and I discussed, Catholics will talk so much shit about witchcraft yet they still hit up that one vieja in the side alley for any kind of remedios.

Trish is no exception to that rule because she deadass secretly thinks you’re going to hex her after she laughed at your crystal collection.

One time she also saw you burning a bay leaf with someone’s name on it, a mutual acquaintance that had been acting like an asshole. Said person ended up having the shittiest month of their lives.

You explained to her that you’ve been doing these rituals for a while and noticed hey, they actually work, so you keep it up.

Yours is a more casual approach, your book of shadows is more a scrap book page in an old diary that looks like a grocery list.

Some shit works, some doesn’t. You prefer to keep whole specimens of crystals around the house.

You explained to Trish the various crystals you had and the cultural significance of each based on extensive research.

You also give her things and she’s very touched. Because she’s a romantic, she often begins choosing jewelry that has rose quartz in it.

“I asked my rose quartz to find me someone who would love me as much as I love them, and I found you. My pink haired sweetie pie.~”

Ok, now she is obsessed with rose quartz.

Absolutely cherishes anything you give her. Especially loving the extra attention when you tell her things like “I made sure to light a candle for your show honey, best wishes!” Or when you give her one of your crystals to take on tour.

You even started carving sigils of protection in her compacts, and she swears she can feel the good intentions when she puts on her blush or highlighter.

#jojo’s bizzare adventure #jjba #jjba x reader #trish una x fem!reader #trish una x reader #trish una #jjba golden wind #jjba vento auero #jjba va #jojo’s bizarre adventure vento aureo

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raekensluver · 4 months ago

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savage temptations

description: when theodore nott's touch becomes more intense, he creates blending sensations that will leave a lasting impression.

pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, dom!theo, p in v, p in v from behind, unprotected sex, breath play, mentions of blood, spitting, name-calling (slut), overstimulation, squirting.

song rec: if you think i'm pretty by artemis- "if you think i'm pretty, lay your hands on me."

w.c: 1.4k

an: midnight thoughts are what fuel me 😝

theo's lips crashed into yours, a furious storm of passion and urgency. you could feel the stubble on his chin scraping against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. his hands, usually so gentle, now had a firm grip on your face, holding you in place as if he was afraid you might vanish if he let go. your eyes fluttered shut, and you let out a soft gasp as his tongue pushed past your teeth, dancing with yours in a fierce, desperate rhythm.

his touch grew rougher, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he pushed your legs apart. you felt the heat of his body pressing against you, his hips rolling into yours with an intensity that stole your breath. the sound of fabric ripping filled the room, and you realized he'd torn your lace underwear off. a thrill of fear and excitement shot through you, but you didn't stop him. instead, you reached up, your nails scratching along his back, leaving trails of red in their wake.

his teeth grazed your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a bruise, and you moaned, arching your back. theo's hands were everywhere, touching you in places you didn't even know could feel so good. his breath was hot and ragged in your ear as he whispered dark, dirty words that made your cheeks burn. every touch, every word was like a brand, marking you as his.

his weight shifted, and you felt him position himself at your entrance. without warning, he thrust into you, filling you up in one swift, brutal motion. you cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure that echoed through the room. your nails dug deeper into his back, drawing blood this time, but he didn't flinch. he just grunted and pushed deeper, his eyes never leaving yours.

theo's hand slid up to wrap around your neck, his thumb resting on your pulse. he squeezed gently, not enough to cut off your air, but just enough to make you aware of his power over you. your heart raced in response, beating faster as he began to move. every thrust was punctuated by a squeeze, a silent promise that he could take it all away if he wanted to. but he never did. he just held you there, suspended between fear and desire.

you felt your body responding to his roughness, your walls tightening around him, urging him deeper. and with every movement, he whispered, "good girl," in your ear. it was a mantra, a declaration of ownership, a reward for your submission. his voice was gritty with passion, his eyes blazing with a fierce love that seemed to consume him. and as much as it scared you, it also made you feel alive.

theo's grip on your neck tightened, and he leaned in, his teeth capturing your bottom lip in a bruising kiss. "open your mouth," he growled, and you obeyed, sticking your tongue out. without hesitation, he spit into your mouth, and you swallowed it, feeling your arousal spike even higher. it was crude, it was filthy, and it was everything you never knew you wanted.

with a snarl, he flipped you over onto your stomach, your hands planted firmly on the bed for balance. your hips were pushed up high, your body arching back towards him. he slammed into you from behind, and the new angle had you seeing stars. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your cries of pleasure and his grunts of satisfaction.

his voice grew deeper, the words coming out as harsh whispers in his native tongue. "sei una troia," he murmured, his breath hot against your neck. you didn't need a translation to know he was calling you a slut in italian. it only served to turn you on more, the way the words rolled off his tongue, sounding so beautifully wrong. your hips rocked back to meet his, desperate for more.

theo's other hand found your hair, pulling it back in a firm grip. "good girl," he said again, the words sounding almost like a purr. he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin of your shoulder. the pressure built inside you, like a volcano threatening to erupt.

his hand reached around, his fingers finding their way to your clit. he began to rub it in tight, fast circles, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. you could feel yourself getting wetter, your hips bucking back against him in response. his strokes grew rougher, matching the tempo of his thrusts, and you knew you were close, so close to the edge.

suddenly, your body convulsed, and you squirted, the wetness soaking the bed beneath you. theo's eyes widened with lust, and he swore in italian, his grip on your hair tightening. the feeling was indescribable, a release that washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. he didn't stop, though, instead using the slickness to drive himself deeper into you, his movements growing more erratic.

with a guttural moan, he pulled out and flipped you over again, so you were facing him. your legs were shaking as he positioned himself between them, his cock glistening with your juices. he slammed back into you, and you could see the hunger in his eyes, the need to claim you fully. your nails dug into the bed sheets, desperately trying to find purchase as he pounded into you, his muscles straining with every thrust.

you whispered through clenched teeth, "i can't, theo, i can't," but he just leaned down, his mouth close to your ear, and whispered back, "you can, tesoro." his voice was a dark promise, a challenge that you felt deep in your core. something within you responded, your body begging for more despite the ache that was building.

his hand slid down your body, his thumb pressing against your clit, and you bit back a scream. the pleasure was too much, too intense, but he didn't relent. "you're so close," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "just a little more." you felt yourself rising again, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you thought you might snap.

then, with a savage snarl, he pulled out, leaving you gasping and empty. "tell me," he demanded, his eyes boring into yours. "tell me you're mine." the room was spinning, your body desperate for release, but you knew what he wanted. you had to give it to him. "yes," you choked out, your voice hoarse from screaming. "yes, i'm yours."

theo's smile was wicked, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "say it," he whispered, his voice a dark caress. "say it like you mean it." and so, you did. "i'm yours, theo. i'm your slut, your good girl." the words were like a password to some hidden part of yourself, and as you spoke them, you felt something inside you unlock, something wild and primal.

his hand moved to your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you feel the throb of your pulse. "good," he murmured, and then he was back inside you, filling you up completely. his strokes were slower now, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every inch of you. your eyes rolled back in your head, and you couldn't help but moan, the sound strangled by his grip.

his free hand snaked up to cover your mouth, muffling your cries as he pumped into you with increasing ferocity. the pressure was building again, a crescendo of sensation that you were powerless to resist. your body was his playground, and he knew exactly how to push you to the brink.

theo's breath grew ragged, his hips moving with a wild, almost desperate rhythm. you could feel the tension in his body, the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining as he held himself above you. and then, with a final, guttural moan, he pulled out, his cock spurting hot, sticky cum all over your chest and stomach, painting your skin with his release.

his free hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. he kissed you there, his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "you're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "always."

edited 8.27.24

taglist: @nottsangel

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kombuuuu · 2 years ago

Note

hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first🤭?

For the Soul (and the Heart)

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE

Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection

please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!

The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.

Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.

Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.

Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.

Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”

There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.

The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.

The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.

The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.

“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.

“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”

You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”

Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”

You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.

“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”

She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”

“Thank you.”

She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.

“Thank you, again.”

“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.

“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”

"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."

Miles glanced up in confusion.

“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”

“Why me?”

“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”

“She’s pretty, and around your age.”

“Ma, porfavor.”

“Ma, please.”

“Go.”

“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.

You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.

There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.

The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.

People feared him, the violence he brought with him.

You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?

If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?

The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.

“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”

“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”

“Sí mamá, ya sé.”

“Yeah mama, I know.”

The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.

The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.

“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”

“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.

“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.

“I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”

His lips upturned again at the compliment.

You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.

“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”

You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”

He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.

Like claws.

—

Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.

Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.

The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.

And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.

Miles was about the same, probably worse.

You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.

So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.

“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.

You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.

Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.

You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.

“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”

He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.

—

“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”

Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.

You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.

“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.

His voice had gone deeper, smoother.

“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.

He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.

The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.

“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.

“Of course, Mami.”

“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”

You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.

“Mm, it is.”

“And you’re here.”

He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.

He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.

“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”

“You too, Miles.”

“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”

He hummed.

“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

—

It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.

Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.

How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.

Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.

Every little thing.

He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.

He knew you felt the same.

Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.

And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.

He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.

You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.

—

Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.

Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.

It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:

Can you come over later?

He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.

And you did, swiftly replying;

okayyyy !!

I’ll pick you up at 7.

six…?

7, [Name].

>:(

Don’t be childish.

i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:

You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.

Your phone pinged again.

See you at six.

You smiled.

You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.

—

He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.

“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”

“Don’t apologise, Miles.”

You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.

“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”

You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.

You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.

You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“You good, Chiquita?”

“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”

“Mmhm.”

You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.

“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.”

He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.

“Maybe ask politely.”

You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.

“Miles.”

“[Name].”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s just a ‘please’.”

“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”

“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.

You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.

You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.

—

He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.

Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.

“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”

“Mm, thought you’d like it.”

“I do, so much.”

You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.

The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.

“My dad.”

Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”

He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.

Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.

He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.

There was no escaping his death.

So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.

He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.

“Come sit, vida mía.”

You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.

A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.

There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.

You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.

“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.

“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”

You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.

“Wh—.”

It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.

“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”

“It would.”

He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”

“Mm, we could—,”

He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.

“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”

“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.

“I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”

He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.

“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”

“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”

“Uhuh.”

“Miles!”

“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”

“Oh my goodness!”

—

And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.

Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.

But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.

It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.

—

YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️

thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife

(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)

#across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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milliumizoomi · 6 months ago

Note

armando x black!fem!reader where they get into an argument but it ends all fluffy ? 🙏🏾

𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄

☆彡SUMMARY.; Accusations get thrown around and disrespect as well.

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO ARETAS x BLACK!FEM READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

☆彡FORMAT.; ONE SHOT

☆彡GENRE.; ANGST + FLUFF + A TAD BIT SUGGESTIVE

☆彡WARNINGS.; Mature Topics, Mature Language, accusations of infidelity, name calling (bitch), Armando not knowing the weight of his words, fake friends and poorly translated Spanish (Google Translate).

☆彡NOTES.; when I TELLL you I had to shorten this so many times because my mind was running a mile a minute and I was packing so much in here. In the end tho I hope yall enjoy it and tysm for the request bb!!💕

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED😉.

🎧FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE, YOU CAN LISTEN TO SELFISH by PNB ROCK🎧

The shit that is leaving this nigga’s mouth right now is nothing short of absolutely appalling to you right now.

Just 15 minutes ago, you literally just walked into the house and put your purse down on the seat closest to you. You haven’t even had the chance to take your shoes off before you hear your name being called from down the hall by your boyfriend.

“YES BABE?” you called back. He didn’t answer. You rolled your eyes and took your shoes off the walked down to where you heard his voice come from, your bedroom. You walked in and see him laying on your bed shirtless, pants hanging low on his hips and had one hand laying over his face.

Damn he looked good.

“Babe you called me? I just got in” you told him. Still he doesn’t answer. Wordlessly, he moved his hand from his face and looked at you with a weird look on his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Still nothing.

Now you were getting pissed off. If he didn’t want anything, why’d he call you? You look back at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, and still nothing. He just lays there.

Rolling your eyes, you turn on your heel, ready to leave the room since obviously he doesn’t want anything nor has anything to say.

And surprise surprise, that’s when he speaks.

“I ain’t say you could leave.” His voice is low, and almost.. menacing?

You turn back around and look at him.

“Well you didn’t say anything at all so I thought I should just be on my way.”

Sighing, he gets up from the bed and walks over to you as you watch him.

He stands directly in front of you and then grabs your face with one of his hands and cranes your neck to look at him.

“Who else you fuckin’ hm?” He asks so calmly, raising his eyebrow at you.

Meanwhile, you nearly choke on air.

The fuck was this man talking about?

“Nigga what?”

Which leads you to now.

The sheer audacity of this man to ask you this question, and now give you the silent treatment. He asked the question and when you tried to explain, you were once again met with silence.

Minutes go by as you practically trailed behind him around the whole apartment to ask him what the hell he was talking about. You told him that he’s being ridiculous and continued asking where he even got that idea from.

At this point you’re getting frustrated.

“Armando I don’t know where the fuck you’re getting this from but if you think I cheated on you then I’m telling you I didn’t!” Your voice was hoarse and your chest was tightening by the second.

How could he accuse you of doing something like this?

He looked at you standing in front of him, practically shaking in place and scoffed. “You know if you’re gonna lie about it.. don’t leave evidence behind.. eso es una tontería.” Now you scoff, you can’t believe what you’re hearing right now.

“What fucking evidence?! Where was it huh? Where’d you find it?”

He looks at you unamused then sits up because at this point, he had been sitting on the couch, with his arms resting on his knees and he was hunched over.

He pulls out his phone and throws it on the table in front of you. “Unlock it and see.”

At this point you’re shaking so violently you feel like you’re in a blender packed with ice. You pick up the phone and unlock it and the first thing you see are an assortment of text messages, screenshots and supposed photos with you and other men.

“This isn’t fucking me.” You threw the phone back done, having seen enough. They all looked convincing to the naked eye but you knew you didn’t have anything to do with any other man that wasn’t him.

“Yeah? Then who is it?” He asks condescendingly. He’s staring you down with such disgust in his eyes it makes you want to double over and throw up right there in the living room.

“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!” Your voice is shaky and you feel lightheaded. The only thing you can do now is to sit on the floor, just so you don’t fall over and hit your head, or injure yourself in any other way.

“Where the hell did you even get that bullshit from?” Holding your head in your hand, you didn’t even look up at him. You were beyond anxious and stressed about the whole thing.

He leans back in the couch and manspreads, looking at you looking absolutely distraught and confused on the ground. “¿Y por qué debería decirte perra infiel?”

And at this point, you’ve reached your absolute limit.

“NIGGA WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO?”

Getting up off the floor, you circle the little table separating the both of you and then proceeded to get up in his face.

“Watch your fucking tone with me. You know I don’t like being disrespected and not only are you gonna accuse me of fucking some other nigga, you’re gonna sit up in my house and call me a fucking bitch? Armando are you fucking serious?” At this point you’re crying, pools of tears cascading down your cheeks as you give this man a piece of your mind.

“I am so devoted and in love with you and you treat me like some common fucking street whore that would leave you to fuck other men? You’ve given me the silent treatment and seem convinced that I’d actually do something like this when I’M the one that coordinates and works with your dad for when you get out of jail, I’M the one that cleans all those damn cuts, stabs and scrapes you come back here with, I’M the one that’s up with you all night if you can’t sleep. I cook, I clean, and I take care of you when you need me to and now you’re believing some other motherfucker over me?! And if that wasn’t bad enough, you won’t even tell me who told you all this shit! And then after all that you call me a bitch?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Armando is floored at your outburst. He hears the raw emotion in your voice paired with the look of heartbreak and like you’ve been kicked in the stomach all over your face. As you finish you just sink to the floor, completely and utterly exhausted and defeated.

How could he do this to you.

Even after you’ve said all that, he says nothing.

Absolutely nothing. It’s like his mouth had been wrapped with duct tape multiple times. He didn’t even murmur or whisper anything.

He just sat there.

Your definitive next words are what jump starts his brain again.

“Get out.”

ミ★

It’s been about 2 hours have passed and you’re wrapped up in bed, laying in a ball while, at this point, softly crying. 2 whole hours has gone by and you haven’t moved since Armando left. You haven’t ate, used the bathroom, hell you were still in the clothes you were in earlier when you just got home.

You’ve cried so much your eyes burn and your body feels heavy. To be quite honest you’re mentally and emotionally exhausted. You just want to understand the situation better and put this behind you because if you didn’t, you knew you’d be incapable of doing anything else until you get a grip on your emotions.

And apparently your boyfriend has the same idea.

You heard the front door of your apartment open and close, followed by footsteps. Growing up in a black household, you were already familiar with knowing who it was that was walking down the hallway. So you knew, even before hearing his voice or seeing his face, that’s it was Armando.

He comes straight into your bedroom and stood at the entrance of your room, because the door wasn’t closed. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at your frame laying on the bed facing the way.

You get nervous and tried to steady your breathing.

“Mama?” He called out.

You didn’t answer, why would you when he didn’t give you the same courtesy?

And you guessed he picked up on that because he just continued.

“Lo siento mamá, la cagué.. i shouldn't have said those things but i got so angry when i thought you were..—“ he trails off. He took a deep breath and continued. “I got possessive.. that’s what my dad said anyways.. I uh.. I talked to him about it and he told me I fucked up. I should’ve let you explain and I should have listened to you. I let me not knowing how to deal with this shit hurt you and I ain’t want to be a person to do that to you… I’m sorry baby.. te amo mamá.. mucho.”

You always cursed at yourself, knowing you were too weak to him when you found yourself turning around to face him. He watched as you turned and when he saw your face, he felt terrible. Immediately he reached out to wipe the little tears rolling down your cheeks but stopped himself. He knew in this moment he didn’t have the right to touch you.

He looked at you first, and you looked back at him, silently.

“Babe I’m so sorry.. I ain’t used to talking much but.. I won’t treat you like that again.. prometo.” You sit up slowly as he watches. “Don’t ever call me nothing disrespectful like that again or I promise your father will be digging my nails and teeth out of your chewed up body parts.”

He laughs a little. “Te lo prometo bebe.”

He spent the rest of the night showering you in love. He bought you a bouquet of roses and got your favorite food. He held you on his lap and kissed your tears away, promising you he’ll never do that again and tells you to kill him if he does it again.

Truth be told you don’t know if he meant that literally.

You spent the night laughing and giggling at his attempts to make you feel better. Yes he did hurt you a lot, but you can tell he was genuine about his apology and that made you feel better. You know he doesn’t have much experience with relationships, so you want to learn and grow with him.

Still though, he better not cross that line again.

Afterwards after the situation was settled to a degree, he finally explained the entire situation to you, saying it was apparently one of your so called “friends” that orchestrated the entire thing. She made fake messages, fake call logs, and even went as far as editing those pictures to make it look like you.

The bitch just wanted your man.

And the gag is, Armando didn’t even know who she was, she sent everything to him anonymously. The only reason you knew it was her was because of how she texted the messages, she used phrases that you wouldn’t normally use in messages.

And your slow ass boyfriend didn’t even notice. Men and their lack of attention to detail.

Safe to say both you and Armando were ready to handle her ass. But before that.. he had to handle you🩷.

[GLOSSARY]

“Eso es una tontería” — “that's just dumb shit”

“Lo siento mamá, la cagué..” — “I'm sorry, mama, I fucked up..”

“¿Y por qué debería decirte perra infiel?” — “And why should I tell you a cheating bitch?”

“te amo mamá.. mucho.” — “I love you mama, so much”

“prometo” — “Promise”

“Te lo prometo bebe.” —“I promise you, baby.”

ミ★

{TAGLIST} :: @loakswifesworld @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf @radioloom || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms🤗💕.

ミ★

#🪸 :: 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 #armando aretas #armando armas #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #armando aretas x reader #armando armas x reader #jacob scipio #armando x reader #armando lowry

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pottersfia · 11 days ago

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hola, extrañamente esto me da mucha pena, pero es una cosa que por alguna razón quisiera experimentar (ya me avergoncé mas) donde Theo y la lectora sean pareja y la lectora le de consentimiento de que la folle mientras ella duerme.

solo si quieres!!!!!

sleepless night | t.n. x fem!reader

a/n: i translated this to English and i hope you like it! i really like this kink hehe

cw: 18+ smut, somnophilia, cnc ? (permission is established)

theodore couldn’t sleep. insomnia was something he was no stranger to but this night was especially difficult as his gorgeous girlfriend was fast asleep night to him. it was practically 3am and just half an hour before, the two of you were in the middle of a heated make out.

he loved the feeling of your hands in his hair or squeezing his arms, feeling you grind down on his hard on, all while his lips are on yours. soon after you rolled off him and whispered how tired you were. he gave you a kiss goodnight and covered you up as you fell asleep.

this was no issue for him besides the fact that you had been wearing thin pj bottoms with no underwear and he could feel you getting wet on his lap. the thought kept him awake and painfully hard. he swiftly pulled his pants down and stroked himself as he looked at you. you were on your back with your face towards him and the tanktop you wore was falling off your shoulder, almost exposing your chest.

theodore couldn’t take it anymore when he remembered you sharing that you wouldn’t him using you while you were asleep. he smiled to himself and moved the blanket off of you. he slowly pulled your pants down and reached between your legs to touch you.

“still wet.” he muttered to himself. his movements caused you to move in your sleep, facing your face away from him. he carefully angled you body to the side and let you adjust. he then rubbed his cock between your wet folds as he bit his lip to hold back a moan.

“fuck, s-so warm.” he stuttered out. theodore couldn’t take it anymore. he needed to be inside you as he felt himself throbbing. he grabbed his cock and slipped it inside your wet pussy, letting out a whine of relief. you moved slightly to the feeling and he quietly shushed you as he rubbed your thigh.

“shh, stay still..” he whispered and started thrusting into you. theodore was completely taken but the feeling of you clenching around him. he moved his hand up to pull your top up, exposing your tits. he held onto one and played with your nipple. he closed his eyes as they rolled up. he had to hold back his moans but it was so hard with his cock twitching inside you.

suddenly he felt himself grow more and more desperate as his high was coming. he thrusted into you faster, now leaving kisses on your shoulder and neck. you were just opening your eyes as you became conscious of the full feeling you felt between your legs. the kisses and touch you felt was familiar and you immediately knew what theodore was up to.

“theo?” you groaned. he eyes opened to see you looking back at him. he loved your face so much.

“fuck, bella. just keep looking at me. n-need to fill this pussy.” he was finally free to moan for you. you loved seeing him in this state and wanted him to feel good for you. you took his hand and stuck his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it and looking right at him. he then let out the most pornographic moan as his warm cum filled you.

“that was perfect.” he smiled and kissed you.

#theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott smut #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott smut

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rockstvrdotcom · 1 year ago

Text

⪼ 10.01 KINKTOBER DAY 1, MIGUEL O'HARA X FEM READER

power play, dumbification, unintentionally slutty reader, dubcon

click link for kinktober mlist c: not proofread!!!

miguel hated you for some reason unknown to anybody. every time you even walked pass him he would shoot you a glare.

maybe because he was against jessicas idea to bring you into hq and have you become part of the spider society.. or maybe it was because the first mission you had you fucked it up. hard.

nobody really knows. but it's probably because of the way you prance around in your skimpy spider suit, acting oblivious to the wide eyes and open jaws as you passed by the other spiders. probably because of the way you add a bit more sway to your hips as you walk past o'hara.

clearly you were teasing him on purpose. so you can't blame him when he gets fed up with your antics, blasting over the speakers that they needed to find you stat.

barely a minute later you were shoved into his office by another spider, a confused expression on your face as you stared up at him with those same doe eyes you always look at him with— those same doe eyes that make his dick throb.

"i know you're doing it on purpose." he says, eyes narrowed as he tapped his foot. he watched your face contort into an even more lost expression, your lashes fluttering each time you blinked.

"i don't know what you mean, boss." you said innocently. there you go again, putting up that same ol' innocent act. his eyebrows furrowed together, a scowl on his face.

"don't act oblivious, y/n," he spat, taking a step closer and closing the distance— now you had to crane your neck up to look at him. "walking around and swaying your hips like some.. some slut."

you were taken aback. how could miguel possibly think that about you? you've been on your best behavior, never referring to him as anything less than boss or sir. you were quick to bite back, scoffing and cursing him out.

you both bickered back and forth, an angry expression etched onto both of your faces. yet the way he glared down at you— calling you all of these degrading names somehow sparked an unfamiliar feeling in your core; hidden deep beneath the humiliation you felt.

halfway through scolding him for being a 'perverted asshole', you blinked and he had you wrenched over his shoulder, a look of confusion on your face and a look of pride on his.

"put me down, miguel!" you demanded like a child stubbornly pleading for candy; thrashing and scratching at his back until he placed you on his desk. pens and documents scattered and tipped off the table, cluttering on the floor as miguel glared down at you.

"alguien tiene que enseñarte una lección puta." he mumbled beneath his breath, shaking his head. his hand snaked up your thigh as he watched your expression contort from anger to arousal, blush creeping onto your face as he squeezed the fat of your thighs.

you muttered his name quietly. a triumphant smirk formed on miguel's face, his fangs poking out from his lips. he took your wrists between his large hand and pinned them above your head.

his freehand trailed down your body, exploring it and making sure every curve and contour was engraved into his brain. talons extending simply for the purpose to rip your spidersuit to shreds.

you complained and whined about how that was your only one. "this is what you wanted it, isn't it?" he shushed you with a claw up to your neck, eyeing you hungrily like a wolf and it's prey.

you yelped when he flipped you onto your stomach harshly, your lacy panties and the clasp of your bra on display for him. his hand ran up the curve of your back before getting rid of your bra, tossing it to the side.

he pressed his bulge against your clothed, sopping pussy, grinding slightly as he leaned down to leave kisses and bites on your neck.

you grinded your hips against his only to be stopped harshly by calloused hands. you turned around and began to complain until he shushed you. "beg, mi vida." he demanded, leaving no room for refusal.

"w- wha?.." you stuttered, cheeks lit up with humiliation and lust. you immediately shook your head, the thought sending shivers of embarassment down your spine.

he tch'd, before ripping off your panties in one swift motion. his nanotech suit slowly dissipated away; leaving him only in his boxers. and good lord, he was fucking fit, chiseled abs and veins running along his arms.

but the thing that really caught your eye was the tuft of brown hair peeking out of the waistband and the large bulge.

he made you turn your head around, not facing him. you felt a heavy weight on your cunt, his tip prodding at your entrance. there was no foreplay except for the fact that you were soaking wet, "w- wait. miguel—"

he was ramming into you before you could even finish your sentence, broken and choked out moans being punched out of you with each thrust.

you revelled in pleasure and a sting of pain as you adjusted to his size. "fu.. fuck! miguel, s- ah! slow down-" you managed to let out in between whimpers, eyes rolling back as the sound of his hips slapping against yours filled the room yet his pace didnt falter.

the way his balls slapped against your clit with each thrust was fucking divine, making you grip the edges of the table as he fucked you raw.

groans from him and moans from you echoed off the walls, the smell of sex filling your senses, "m- miguel.. s' too hard~.." you complained, biting your lip.

but the second his tip thrusted into that spot that made your mind go numb you forgot whatever you were begging for; all logical thoughts blocked out by pleasure as you gripped anything for purchase; trying to prevent the loud moan that eventually escaped and bounced off the walls, clenching around him tightly and making him groan.

"c- calláte.. making too much fucking noise." he grunted out, wrapping a hand around your throat as he continously thrusted up into your gspot, your eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out.

raspy whimpers and pleads for him to keep hitting that spot barely made it out with his large hand around your throat. black spots littered your vision as your breaths became shallow, yet he still continued to thrust.

you felt the knot in your stomach snap as you cried out in pleasure, squeezing around him as he let go of your neck; his thrusts becoming sloppy. your vision went blank, only miguel and the shape of his cock on your mind as your orgasm washed over you in waves.

your release left a ring of cream at the base of his cock. you could tell miguel was close too, his pace erratic before he burried himself deep inside of you, tip nestled comfortably in your cervix.

"c- cum in me please.." you begged pathetically, eyes rolling back in satisfaction as he emptied his load inside of you.

after what felt like hours with his dick balls deep in you, he pulled out, your clit twitching and your hole aching as some of his cum leaked out and onto his desk. you could hear him tut in disapproval.

"perra dejó un desastre en mi escritorio.." he scoffed before spitting on your pussy, admiring the mess he made of you before turning his suit back on.

"clean yourself and my desk up, ¿comprende?"

#miguel #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara smut #astv #kinktober #october #smut #miguel smut

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cuarzorosita · 11 months ago

Note

por faa, hace algo doméstico con enzoo 😭😭🩷🩷

🍑 ˚. ࣪ ⊹ AMOR EN LA PIEL . . . enzo vogrincic

♫ play like the dawn by the oh hellos

⠀⠀⠀𐙚 ˚. ࣪ ⊹ . . . pairing : enzo vogrincic x fem!reader.

⠀⠀⠀𐙚 ˚. ࣪ ⊹ . . . warning(s) : enzo estando ⠀⠀⠀completamente enamorado de r, mucho fluff, ⠀⠀⠀boyfriend material? no, husband material.

⠀⠀⠀𐙚 ˚. ࣪ ⊹ . . . summary : cuando es hora de hacer tu ⠀⠀⠀rutina de cuidado de piel, enzo siempre esta ahí, ⠀⠀⠀tanto como para observarte como ayudarte.

⠀⠀⠀𐙚 ˚. ࣪ ⊹ . . . emi's note : no sé si esto cuente como ⠀⠀⠀doméstico pero lo amé, espero te guste bellaa; este ⠀⠀⠀es mi primer pedido chiquillas, si les gustó pidan ⠀⠀⠀más, y si no, bueno na que hacerle jandkskjs. la ⠀⠀⠀rutina que use aquí. <3

tú rutina para el cuidado de la piel era fundamental, sin importar si se trataba de el rostro o el cuerpo.

cuando enzo estaba en casa, él disfrutaba de ver como hacías todas esas cositas, como él decía. le gustaba tomarte fotos cuando lo hacías o participar de lleno, poniéndose de igual manera un poco de tus productos en el rostro.

pero lo que más disfrutaba, era cuando le pedías ayuda y era él quien al final te masajeaba las piernas, brazos y hombros.

después de una ducha para relajar tus músculos tensos por el trabajo, te sentaste en su cama compartida con tu bata alrededor y los productos en las manos.

enzo no tardó mucho en aparecer por la puerta cuando escuchó que salías de la ducha, sabiendo lo que tu rutina decía que seguía.

comenzaste poniéndote una banda que el mismo enzo te había regalado, para sujetar y evitar cualquier pelo sobre tu rostro. enzo amaba particularmente este paso porque podía ver tú rostro completo, al natural y completamente despejado. solo para él.

"que hermosa te ves, eh" habló desde la puerta con una sonrisa en el rostro. lo miraste desde tu lugar y le sonreíste.

"tú también te ves hermoso" le respondiste, observando como su cabeza se iba hacía atrás al reírse.

"nunca tanto como vos, gordita" se acercó hasta la cama, rodeandola hasta sentarse detrás de ti, lo sentiste pasar sus brazos por tu cintura y entrelazar sus dedos, bloqueando el agarre.

dejo un beso húmedo en tu mejilla, observandote a través del espejo de mano frente a ustedes. le devolviste el beso antes de continuar con la rutina.

abriste tu crema de ojos, sacando un poco de producto con la espátula que venía incluida. con tus ojos y los de enzo observando el espejo, pasaste la espátula por alrededor de tus ojos, expandiendo y masajeando lo suficiente.

enzo observaba como pasabas tus dedos cuidadosamente, como esparcías cada gota de la crema por tus ojitos y le fascinaba la forma tan delicada que tus manos se movían.

no pudiendo contener el sentimiento cálido de amor en su pecho, dejo un beso en tu hombro, logrando que lo mirarás por el espejo.

"¿quieres un poquito, amor?" le preguntaste y él asintió emocionado. te giraste entre sus brazos aún agarrados y dejaste un poco de producto debajo de sus ojos.

antes de que tus delicados dedos tocaran su rostro, tomó tu mano para llevarla a sus labios, donde dejo un beso en cada dedo.

sonrió al ver tu mirada llena de amor, quería asegurarse de capturar ese momento tan íntimo entre ustedes dos con lujo de detalle. desde como estabas vestida hasta el brillo innegable de tus ojos.

"algún día de estos me vas a matar" le dijiste, acercándote para dejar un rápido beso en la punta de su nariz.

"espero que no" susurró sobre tus labios, con los ojos aún cerrados. soltó tu mano suavemente para que comenzarás a masajear su rostro con la misma delicadeza que lo hiciste contigo misma.

abrió los ojos lentamente, apreciando tu cara concentrada; desde que te había conocido, enzo había sentido que tú eras su one and only, el amor de su vida y de las próximas si es que tenía.

sus ojos se llenaban de estrellas igual que el cielo por la noche cuando te miraba. llenos de admiración y sobretodo, amor.

un pequeño puchero se plantó en sus labios cuando dejo de sentir la calidez de tus manos en su rostro. te reíste y besaste su puchero.

"fue muy rápido, gordita" dijo triste, con unos ojos de perrito, sonreíste por su ternura.

"lo siento, amor" dejaste otro beso en sus labios "si te hace sentir mejor, ahora tengo que ponerme crema en las piernas"

su puchero desapareció rápidamente, logrando que rieras con fuerza. esa era realmente su parte favorita.

"rápido rápido" te apuró, soltando su agarré en tu cintura para que pudieras sentarte frente a él.

mientras tú te acomodabas en la cama, él tomó entre sus manos tu crema corporal; cada vez que esa crema se te acababa, él siempre te la compraba, específicamente la misma, porque amaba ese aroma, porque la habías usado desde que se conocían y para enzo, ese era tú olor característico.

el que se quedaba en su ropa cuando te abrazaba o en las sábanas cuando se dormían. un recordatorio de tu presencia en sus fosas nasales.

"¿ya?" preguntó desesperado, asentiste sonriendo, levantando tus piernas hasta dejarlas estiradas sobre la cama.

ante él, cada parte de ti era simplemente perfecta. tus piernas eran una de las miles de cosas que amaba de ti. tenían un color y un brillo gracias a los cuidados que tú o él mismo le daban.

dejo caer crema desde tus muslos hasta tus tobillos, apresurandose para pasar sus manos por tus piernas.

siempre pensaste que enzo tenía las manos perfectas para ser masajista, pero cuando se lo dijiste su respuesta fue que "las únicas piernas que pienso tocar, son las tuyas" logrando que tú corazón se derritiera otra vez.

pasaba las palmas de sus grandes manos por tus muslos, haciendo pequeños círculos con sus pulgares o dándole leves apretones.

sus manos subieron hasta el costado de tu muslo, haciéndote reír.

"¿qué estás buscando, eh?" te reíste y gracias a la cercanía en la que estaban, enzo miro tus labios antes de besarte.

"yo voy a hacer mi trabajo bien, y esto" dijo apretando suavemente la carne "es parte de tu pierna" sonreíste, dejándolo seguir adelante.

siguió masajeando, disfrutándolo mucho a tu parecer pero se lo permitiste. se veía concentrado y casi anonadado por tu suave piel contra su mano.

sus dedos por fin abandonaron ese espacio en tus muslos, permitiéndote sentir la perdida de su calor en tu piel. viajaron hasta tu rodilla, donde se inclinó para dejar un par de besos, susurrando palabras de apreciación por cada beso.

pasaste una mano por su cabello café, despeinandolo un poco en el proceso.

"sos mi pieza de arte más preciada, gordita" te susurró contra la piel de tu rodilla. juraste que tus ojos picaban ante la amenaza de unas lágrimas.

se estiro nuevamente, llegando hasta la última gota de crema. seguía haciendo círculos con sus pulgares, pero ahora eran más lentos, queriendo disfrutar el momento con todo su ser.

frotó y presionó cada musculo, tendón y los ligamentos de tu pierna, hasta llegar al final.

lo viste suspirar cuando se dio cuenta que había terminado, adoraba tanto cuando podía tocar tu piel de manera tan íntima, pero tan delicada, que la idea de que solo él podía hacerlo le llenaba el pecho de orgullo.

su rostro se elevó, al igual que los costados de sus labios.

"ahora la otra" susurró, deslizando sus dedos por tu otra pierna.

#cuarzorosita 𐙚 one shot #cuarzorosita 𐙚 enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic #la sociedad de la nieve #enzo vogrincic fluff #enzo vogrincic one shots #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic x you #the snow society

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sthavoc · 9 months ago

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Hi bestieeee, can I request something cute ? It could be short if you like.

You never call Enzo by his name he is used to hearing “mi amor” or whatever you like but when you say his name for something he’s like the confused pikachu meme like what did I do wrong? Who you talking to cuz that ain’t me I’m the love of your life future father of your children EXCUSE YOUUU TREAT ME WITH SOME RESPECT.

Thank you !! 💖

*๑՞ 🍏 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: you decide to pull a little prank on your boyfriend, wanting to see his reaction to you calling him by his name.

·˚ ༘ warnings: I believe it’s only fluff (if not i’m sorry)

·˚ ༘ note: guys i’m finally on spring break!! I can write more fics now! this one is a small blurb <3 i’m sorry if there’s any grammar mistakes.

The times you’ve called Enzo by his name could be counted. Those few moments could be times when the two of you would either fight or be on serious topics. Apart from that, his name wouldn't be a part of your daily vocabulary around him, or on the list of names you were used on calling him.

But today, you decided to see and test the waters. What would his reaction be to you randomly calling him by his name? Right now both of you found yourselves in the kitchen after you guys had gotten back home from doing your grocery shopping.

You thought this was perfect timing for you to ask him for something.

“¿Enzo, me pasas las manzanas por favor?” And there was his reaction. You tried to ignore it, but the facial expressions he had were difficult to dismiss. Your lips quivered from trying your best not to break character, you even had to seal them completely.

“¿Cómo me llamaste?” He spoke with confusion and astonishment in his tone. You never looked up from what you were doing and continued to put the groceries away.

“¿De qué hablas?” You followed along. The smallest of smiles broke from your lips when your back faced him and he wasn’t able to see any sign of facial expressions on your face.

“Me llamaste Enzo.” He sets both palms on the cold stone of the kitchen counter, his knuckles bending with the action. By this moment you had turned towards him again but continued to move.

“Pero si así te llamas amor.” You played dumb.

“No, no—” He points with his index before making his lips damped with his tongue. “Para vos yo soy tu “mi amor”, futuro marido, el padre de tus futuros hijos, el amor de tu vida.” You were trying your very best not to laugh right now. He appeared offended from hearing his name coming out of your lips.

You couldn't hide the smile on your lips, and he realized it. The crease that formed between his brows hadn't missed the way your cheeks grew for the smile. Which was when he asked—

“¿Por que sonreís?” he continued to look annoyed as you continued to smile.

You shook your head trying to cover your smile, but you were failing to. “Era una bromita amor.”

A smirk appeared on his lips, where he stuck his tongue inside his lower lip with a small shake of the head. “Ah ¿una bromita eh?” He copies. He had walked closer to you, his hands had found its way to your waist. “Pues tus bromitas me van a dar algo chiquita. Pero todo lo que dije es verdad eh.” He points.

“Lo se, y lo siento.” you whisper genuinely. Your eyes looked up at him while you continued to share your smile.

His index finger and thumb rested on your chin while the lack of space stayed between the two before he leaned in to share a gentle kiss. A kiss from which you were able to hear the smooch after you both pulled away.

“respeto, nena.” He said.

And you knew that the man meant for you to have respect for him, on knowing how to call him. It was mostly banter, but he did prefer for you to call him any cute pet name than his name. A million times.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic blurb #enzo vogrincic fic #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic x you

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quennyquinn · 1 year ago

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Rica y mimada T/N, siempre sabe todo

Kozue está preocupada, mentira, está muerta de preocupación baki no aparece por ningún lado por casi una semana, no contesta su teléfono, no va a la escuela, no está en su casa se ve por la fina capa de polvo, ya ha hablado con doppo orochi, katsumi orochi, con hanayama Kaoru, retsu kaioh, Mitsunari Tokugawa, Gouki Shibukawa y nada, baki parece que se lo trago la tierra lo que preocupo a todos.

Así que kozue junto con todos los mencionados están en la oficina de Tokugawa, están tratando de pensar que paso con baki, ya casi a las cuatro de la mañana cando kozue tiene una idea que tal vez sea estúpida, pero está desesperada……llamar a T/N.

Así que en altavoz kozue llama a T/N, frente a todos.

T/N: -durmiendo felizmente en su cama-…hola, con quien hablo?

Kozue: T/N, sé que es tarde, pero es una emergencia.

T/N: ¿emergencia?, que paso quebró dior?

Kosue: no, dior está bien.

T/N: ¿le paso algo a natsue orochi?

Kosue: que…

Doppo orochi: -interrumpiendo kozue- señorita como conoce a mi esposa?

T/N: todos los jueves nos hacemos las uñas y tomamos café en una cafetería cercana, ¿pero está bien?

Doppo orochi: si, mi preciosa natsue está bien.

T/N: oh…entonces no es tan malo, que pasa kozue.

Kosue: perdí a baki.

T/N: te dije, baki tiene el cuerpo de un dios griego pero el cerebro de un niño de 9 años que quiere pelear con el tipo mas grande para ser el rey de la caja de arena.

Kosue: no, nadie puede encontrarlo, estoy nerviosa.

T/N: -suspirar-bien…dame 20 minutos, besos -cuelga-

-20 minutos después-

T/N: hola

Kozue: lograste saber algo

T/N: si, baki actualmente está encerrado en la prisión de máxima seguridad de Arizona en estados unidos.

Todos: ¿QUE?

T/N: bueno, eso pasa cuando secuestras al presidente de los estados unidos frente a todos en el aniversario de la muerte del presidente john f. kenedy, no se preocupen mañana al medio día tomare un avión y traeré a baki de regreso ahora necesito mi sueño de belleza adios.

-con kozue y el resto-

Kozue: …bueno al menos baki volverá pronto.

Retsu: tu amiga puede hacer lo que dice.

Kozue: si, ella no puede, ella conoce a alguien que si y esa persona le debe un favor.

#baki son of ogre #baki the grappler #baki the grappler x reader #baki hanma #baki headcanons #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #baki x reader #female reader #kozue matsumoto x reader #natsue orochi #natsue orochi es una reina #katsumi orochi #doppo orochi #kaoru hanayama #baki hanayama

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mxtantrights · 2 months ago

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estoy rendido del amor de una mujer

a/n: he got me y'all don't look, I'm down bad. so basically this is just a one-parter. I don't know. If you ask for a part two or if I see y'all like it maybe I can whip something up. lets just see how it goes.

and for the sake of this story: Armando didn't kill the captain, and he's out on some 'good behavior' deal and helping Mike and Marcus with cases linked to the cartel.

Armando Aretas x fem!reader

SUMMER 2023, MIAMI FLORIDA

You almost got burned tonight. A rookie cop saw you, and the heat you were packing and tried to arrest you. After hastily explaining to him that you weren't packing for no reason, he let you go. But you had missed an important meeting.

It had taken you two years to get into German's inner circle. German is a big player in the Miami scene. He's not known for being a trusting person. But he does have a thing for high ranking positions of power and women. Deadly combination, which was what you used.

Although he's putting you on the back burner after tonight.

You sigh and slot your key into the lock. The lock doesn't turn. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You take out your knife, not wanting to make too much noise for your neighbors.

Slowly you ease into your apartment. You look around quickly. The four corners of the living room are clear. Then again they would be, anyone who was lurking inside could be seen from the window.

You had your knife up as you tip toe into the kitchen. And there you find them.

Mike and Marcus. And they brought company. Three other people you don't know in your house. Your undercover house. They are all looking above something on the table, too occupied with it to notice your arrival.

"Oh what fresh hell is this." you say.

They all turn around.

Mike smiles, "I was just telling the crew about you."

You hold up you hand, "Whatever the hell this is, is gonna fuck with my shit so you need to go. Now."

"Langauge! I thought I told you that last time." Marcus shouts.

You put down your knife with a sigh.

"I've been working this guy for two years, and if he sees two cops coming out of my apartment I'm done. I'll curse if I want to curse." you explain.

The tall blonde man raises his hand, like he's in school. Your eyebrows raise in surprise as you look at Mike and Marcus.

"Dorn, you don't have to-just say what you want say man." Mike says.

The man, Dorn, nods his head and then looks at you.

"We know you're after German. And we're not here to cause any trouble but we just needed to ask for any information you have on his right hand man." Dorn says.

He picks up a tablet and shows you a picture. You look at the screen and then back at Dorn.

"Do you know him?" the woman asks you.

"That's Nico, they call him Nissan. Well, called. German found out he was skimming some off the top and lets just say he's not on vacation right now." You answer.

Mike groans, "He was our only way in."

"Into what? What have the two of you old-timers got yourself into this time?" you ask.

Mike and Marcus start arguing loudly when you call them old. You snicker as you reach into your fridge and look for the last Corona you had. When you find the bottle is not inside, you close the fridge door.

Your eyes scan the counter top, to see if you maybe left it out. But you don't find it. So you look over at the table. You find it there, opened and empty. Next to the unknown male in your kitchen.

You meet his eyes.

"You drank my beer?" you ask, though it's not a question.

He smirks and tilts his head at you. "Problem?"

You roll your eyes. Then you walk over to Marcus and Mike.

"I've told you that he's dead, so he can't help you. Neither can I. Yo've gotta go now." you say.

"No no no, hold on. If Nico is burned then the only one who can help us is you. We just need some files-" he speaks but you cut him off.

Burned. Nico is burned. He was an informant? German definitely didn't know that. Or if he did, he is keeping it close to his chest. Christ.

"Do you want me dead?! German either killed Nico knowing or not knowing that he was an informant, but either way he's dead. If I go snooping around I can just drive myself over to the morgue." you argue.

"She's got a point." Dorn says.

You turn to him, "Thank you, tall International man."

"Dorn is not international, but that's not the point. The point is, you have an in. And we need you." Marcus says.

You sigh. They need an in when you're not exactly in German's good graces. Great. Not only would you have to work your way back but you'd have to work under pressure.

"He'll smell her from a mile away." the unknown man says.

Mike looks over at him, "She's very good at what she does."

"Cops tend to have a tell." The man shrugs.

"She's not a cop. She's a freelancer." Marcus answers.

"And the best one I know." Mike tags on.

No doubt buttering you up. You groan. Yes, you liked being called the best at what you do. And it wouldn't take much to get info. You have the access. You'll be under a close eye but you can pull it off.

"Tell me what you need and when you need it by." you say.

2 DAYS LATER, MIAMI

You pulled the straps of your dress tighter. No wonder needed them to be 'loose' for an accidental cleavage slip.

The compute chimed and altered you that the information was done copying. You ejected the thumb drive and stuffed it into the fake juul packaging. You closed all the windows on the computer and pressed restart.

Now came the hard part. You smoothed out your dress and walked over to the door. You checked between the blinds and made sure no one was coming this way.

It's not like you couldn't be in the office. If someone a bit lower than you saw you coming out you wouldn't be questioned. But if someone higher than you in ranking saw, they might be curious.

You exit the office and turn down the hallway. Taking the way with the most witnesses as possible, more people to account for you later on.

Into the blue room, where you pass the exotic dancers. Then though the 'greenery' room, where some workers are watering the plants. Finally through the purple room where the weapons are stored.

You make it all the way outside with no one stopping you.

With a sigh of relief you quick walk to your motorbike. You take out your helmet and put your bag into the storage underneath the seat. Without another thought you get on your bike and ride out of the compound.

You ride from South Miami to your apartment near Hollywood.

When you get there, you go around the back. Better to let everyone think you weren't here than you were. Who knows who could be watching you.

You come in from the window in your bedroom. And somehow it feels like you're intruding because here he is. In your room.

Mike told you about him, a little. Armando is his son. His son with the cartel woman he was seeing way back when that he didn't know he had. He's done things, bad things. But he's making up for it.

Making up for it by sitting at your computer in your room.

"Oje, get the hell out of here!" you shout.

He turns to you slowly. You hate his cocky attitude. You hate his smirk and how he keeps eye contact with you. You step fully into your room and slide the window closed behind you.

Armando gets up from the seat with his hands up, "Lo siento,"

"You're not sorry, otherwise you wouldn't have found your way in here in the first place." you speak.

He looks you up and down. Yeah it was probably the dress. It's summer time in Miami and you weren't about to put on a sweater. You'd have to blend in and a sundress was about as normal as ablue sky here.

"You know spanish?" he asks.

You start walking away from him, "This is Miami."

You take out the thumb drive and open the door to your room. When you stop walking, you hear him laugh to himself. You watch him walk through it first and then you after him.

"Mike, I got it." you say as you walk into the living room.

The shades have been drawn and the black out curtains too.

"I ever tell you you're the best?" he jokes.

"Yeah every time you need something." you reply.

You hand the drive to Dorn. He takes it and plus it into his computer. You watch as the flies pop up on his screen. He seems to be reading them a mile per minute.

"What'd you want with all that anyways?" you ask.

You watch as Marcus and Mike share a look between themselves. It unnerves you. You know they have a way of talking without sharing words. It's what happens when you work with someone for so long.

Marcus smiles and claps his hands together, "Mike thinks I should be the one to tell you. Because he has a more salp-able face."

You squint your eyes.

"Are you about to screw me?" you ask.

"Not per say, but you might not like what we have to say." Marcus ushers you to the kitchen.

The two of you walk all about two steps in before he's unloading on you. He starts off pretty strong, that you''re more than capable of handling German. And that you put in the time for it too.

But then he's telling you a different story.

German is in connection with a guy they're looking to take down. Something about a syndicate. Something about getting both of them at once. And Mike and Marcus have the backing of the PD.

You can feel the steam coming from your ears.

"Marcus you can't be trying to poach my guy right now!" you yell.

"The yelling, keep it down, you're undercover after all." He holds his hands up in defense.

You cross your arms over your chest, "You don't even know who I'm working for."

"Well, it's not someone who's paying you that's for sure." He divulges.

All at once he realizes he probably shouldn't have said that. Because if he knows you're not getting paid for this job then he's went though your bank statements. And probably a lot more.

Your eyes widen and your turn around and run into the living room. There you find Dorn, hiding behind Mike, with his computer in hand.

"You got beanstalk here to go through my stuff?!" you yell.

Mike pushes Dorn back even further.

"Look, we needed to know if we were stepping on government agency toes. And now we know we're not." Mike answers.

You leap to pounce on him but Marcus is faster and grabs you by the waist. You fight against him a little, knowing the he's probably gonna feel it tomorrow morning.

"That's an invasion of privacy. But I guess like father like son, since this one was in my room when I got here." you shout.

Mike looks at Armando, "Now, I told you to get out of there."

Armando shrugs.

"I'm sorry. But listen you can still be part of it." Mike says.

"How nice of you Mike. I'll be sure to thank you when we're done." you spit sarcastically.

Marcus lets you go and you decide to take a seat on the couch. Dorn frees himself from the corner of the room and takes a seat in the arm char that is farthest from you.

"You never take a job for free. What gives?" Mike asks.

You roll your eyes. It's not like you were money hungry. Yes you needed money to survive but you weren't broke. You could afford to not work for the next ten years if you wanted to. But you'd miss it too much.

This isn't that though. This isn't fun.

This is revenge.

"I thought you read through my stuff. You didn't put it together?"

"It's revenge." Armando answers.

You turn around from your seat on the couch and look at him. He's looking right back at you. He probably didn't read your file, probably was too boring for him. But how'd he figure it out?

It's not like you left the reason on your computer. You wouldn't make such a rookie mistake.

"How'd you figure that out? Did you find her moodboard?" Marcus jokes.

You pass him a look. He takes a step back.

"Alright, alright, no more jokes about the mood board. Got it." Marcus says to himself.

"What other reason could she be doing this for?" Armando asks.

"It's been twelve years. I spent ten years tracking him down and two years infiltrating his circle. He has no clue who I am. None." you start to explain.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't in your file. Who are you?" Dorn asks.

"Well she was leader of the dirty dozen in New York. Highly effective tactile group, skin ranging from murder, assassinations, weapon making, and a whole lot more." Mike says.

"And when the group cut ties, she ran the underground for a bit. Nothing happened without her knowing it." Marcus adds on.

"Not a cop." Armando says.

"I'm the daughter of German's former right hand man." you answer.

Which is why it stung a lot that Mike and Marcus wanted to take this case from you. Knowing who you are and knowing what it means. You worked for this. And you're gonna see it through come hell or high water.

THE NEXT NIGHT, MIAMI

Mike and Marcus were all set with their crew. German would never allow them to step foot into his compound but lucky for them they don't have to.

You snuck in last night and triggered the sprinkler system. Everything got flooded. So while German is getting everything cleaned up and possibly looking for a new base of operations, he's hanging out with a buddy.

Zio. Money hungry drug mover. Only thing he loves more than money and drugs is his expensive shoe collection. Which he's putting on display tonight.

A rich man's party is the best place to re-con. You told Mike and Marcus how many men German has on him at all times, but that doesn't give them much for when the time comes to take him down.

What's their tactical response like? What weapons do they bring on the move? How many cars? Things like that. Which was smart thinking and not at all on your mind when you first started this.

Armando leans back in the van's chair, man spreading. You roll your eyes but you say nothing. You weren't really trying to talk to him. Lest he find out more about you.

He seems to be tapped in to you. Which is weird. You've never had someone checking for you before.

"I can hear you rolling your eyes from here. What's up? he asks.

He spins around in his chair and faces you. Smug look on his face as he leans back.

"Nothing. Just want to get this over with." you say.

He nods once, then he creeps closer to you with his chair. He's about a foot away from you.

"You wanted to be the one to kill him." he muses.

You look at him, "Well yes. It was my mission. I found him. I infiltrated. I lost someone to him."

"It won't make the pain go away." he says.

"Oh please don't give me the 'revenge will just turn into guilt' talk. I got it from Mike and Marcus." you sigh.

Before you can blink or think of anything else to say, you feel your chair being pulled to the left. You grab onto the only thing in view and that happens to be Armando's leg.

"If I get him in my crosshairs, I'll hand the shot to you." he says.

You look him in the eyes, "Do you want a thank you or something?"

He smiles, "No te preocopes, no quiero nada."

"It doesn't seem like you don't want anything." you reply.

The back door of the van opens and he lets go of your chair. You slide back a bit to put some space between you two. He turns back to the screen in front of him.

THE NEXT MORNING, MIAMI

The steam from the shower wafts out the bathroom. You wrap your towel around your body a little tighter as you walk into the kitchen. The tea you were making is beyond ready, the kettle at this point screaming at a frequency only dogs can hear.

You turn it off and set it aside.

As your reaching for your favorite mug, you hear faint noises from the front door. You run over to the dinning room table and reach underneath the wooden chair. Your fingers wrap around the gun and you pull it close.

One swift check and the safety is off. You crab walk to the other side of the kitchen counter, away from the door. The noise becomes louder until you hear the door open.

"Shit, where'd she go." a voice says.

A voice, you know it. You get up from your position on the floor and look around the wall. Armando.

"What the hell are you-" you're about to ask.

"We need to go. now. No time to pack. Put some clothes on." He directs you.

He almost gives you no say when he grabs you by the elbow and maneuvers you into your room. He closes the door behind him and takes out his gun.

"Am I just supposed to undress in front of you?" you question, with your eyebrow raised.

He lets his arms fall to his sides. Then he walks over to the window, allowing you to walk over to the closet. You pull the door open and grab the first pair of jeans and shirt you can find.

Making sure he's actually turned first, you then put on your underwear and bra. Then you pull the shirt over your body, lastly your pants.

You walk to your dresser and reach into the cabinet. The noise must alert him that you're dressed because he turns around.

"We don't have time. You got made." Armando says.

"What the fuck do you mean I got made?" you ask.

"What I said. You're not safe here." he answers.

You grab your go-bag and move over to the window. Chest to Chest with Armando you look up at him.

"Where the hell am I gonna be safe then?"

He doesn't answer you. Maybe because he didn't have an answer. Or because the bullets started raining into your apartment right on time. Then he was nudging you out of the window and down the fire escape.

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, UNAMED MOTEL, ORLANDO

You put your bag down on the floor. The bed looked horrible. But horrible would have to do for now. You can't really make requests on the run.

Armando shuts the door behind him.

"Since you paid you can take the bed." you say.

He scoffs, "I'm not that kind of man."

You look over your shoulder, "Just one that snoops through my personal stuff and ignores personal space."

He says nothing. He walks silently into the bathroom and closes that door behind him too. You sigh and plop down onto the bed. You didn't understand.

Before Mike and Marcus showed up you were on track to get revenge within the next two weeks. Everything was set. There were backup plans. They were contingencies.

Now it was all shot to hell.

You hear the shower start up and lean back into the bed. And without meaning to you end up falling asleep. Right there on your back.

Armando comes out of the shower about five minutes after that. The soap sucked and the water had no pressure but at least he didn't feel like the sweat was clinging to him anymore.

He walks out of the bathroom and finds you laying on the corner of the bed. He looks you over once and crosses the room to cut off the lamps.

When the room is dark, he takes one of the pillows from the bed and sets himself up by the door. His gun tucked to his hip. This way he can keep an eye on the door and you.

You were interesting to say the least.

Usually people don't affect him this much. He can get on with his day and do what he has to do. Nothing comes in between him and a mission.

Especially now when his only mission was his freedom.

But there was something about you. Or, that's not really true. There were multiple things about you. He could see the lust for revenge in your eyes, he recognizes it well. He could tell you weren't being forthcoming either.

And he liked how you spoke your mind.

Liked? Why is he saying liked?

He doesn't really know you. He knows a little bit. He knows you only like tea, there is no coffee in your apartment. And you live in sweatpants when you don't have to be undercover. You also seem to have an aversion to the color blue.

He doesn't really know you. He can't like you.

He looks over at your sleeping form. How your lips part just a little bit and you snore. And your head leans to the right, your dominant side. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable and move you. But he knows you'll wake up sore from sleeping this way.

So he gets up. He gets up because he needs to stretch his legs. Not because of any other reason.

He walks to the bathroom and turns on the light and the vent. Hoping the sound will rouse you and you'll move on your own. He steps into the bathroom and closes the door with a bit more force than needed.

He looks into the mirror. He looks himself in the eyes.

This is bad. This is bad because you're the type of girl he would take a bullet for.

THE NEXT MORNING, ORLANDO

"Mike-"

"I fucked up. I know you wanted this, and I took it from you when I should have let you handle it."

"Mike-"

"And now you're on the run. You've never been burned before, and it's because of me."

"Mike!"

"What?"

"Shut up for a second and let me think."

You sigh.

German caught on to the eyes on him when he was at the shoe party. While anyone else would have packed up and fled to a non extradition country, he's staying here.

A sign.

Whoever it is that wanted to get him, should come see him face to face. No way in hell were you going to do that. Not only did you have the smarts to wait him out, you didn't want Mike and Marcus to put themselves on the line. They would no doubt follow you into the fire.

"I think I should make my peace with this before anyone gets hurt." you say.

There's silence on the other end of the line. With Mike not talking , you turn around to find Armando. He's standing there, two feet away from you on the hood of the stolen pick-up truck from the motel parking lot.

"That's big of you." Mike jokes.

"Very. But I mean if I see him about to get ran over, I'm not goin to save his ass." you quip.

Mike laughs, "He doesn't deserve it. Your forgiveness."

"I know," you say and Armando looks at you then. "I should probably return him to you, since he's on parole."

"Yeah well he did some things that might kick that back a few years." Mike answers.

You shake your head, "You can say it was all me. Make sure Dorn gets rid of any incriminating footage."

"I didn't tell him to go get you, you know that?"

You don't know why but hearing that makes your heart kind of thump weird. Not thump weird. Your heart is already thumping, but it feels different.

Different as you look him in the eyes.

The first time you interacted with him you hoped it would be the last. And now here he is sticking his neck out for you when you haven't been all that kind.

"I didn't know that. I'll get him back to you in one piece." you speak.

"Thanks. And keep me updated wherever you land."

"Will do. Thanks Mike."

You hang up the phone. Armando takes a step closer and you hold out the phone for him. When he does you feel the quickest static brush against your fingertips.

"You good from here?" he asks.

You nod your head, "I'm a big girl, first time for everything."

He nods once with a small smirk on his lips. He looks away, somewhere off behind your shoulder. It's not like you didn't notice he's good looking. But you just never thought about it for too long.

"Let me drop you off at the station." he says.

You don't want to smile. You shouldn't smile. "Okay."

Armando waits for you to start walking. Once your in front of him he walks over to the driver's side. You climb into the truck and shut the door.

You could've walked. The station is only ten minutes from here. You smile a bit to yourself when he puts the car in drive.

#armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #armando x reader #bad boys

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galacticseonghwa · 4 months ago

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SERÁ UNA NOCHE INOLVIDABLE - chenle smau

your friends were all you needed, they were your brothers from another mother they loved to say. but that all went to shit after ricky dragged you to one of his motorbike sprints.

who are you to say no when ricky's opponent claws his way into your inner circle and present himself as your dream man?

biker!chenle x fem!reader

INCLUDES — fluff, crack, bickering between y/n & chenle, smut (eventual), a slow(ish)burn, swearing

AUTHORS NOTE — this is my first time writing a smau, but i'm saur excited !! i’m also VERY bad at spelling lol

STATUS — ongoing

PLAYLIST — spotify

TAGLIST — open !

SCHEDULE - i'll try to post at least once or twice a week, but there's no promises as i'm currently studying and working sigh.

y/n profiles || chenle profiles

1 ) you're always number one xx

2 ) she’s OUR gf now

3 ) stole your rich lingo

4 ) chat is this real?

5 ) my daughter is sad

6 ) you guys had a gay kiss

7 ) you okay, mama?

8 ) i’m faint, give me a second

9 ) we’ve lost him to the system

10 ) #toptenanimebetrayals

11 ) and fly to shanghai

12 ) pouri ahau

13 ) i need jaemin

14 ) because i love you?

15 ) my angel baby

16 ) lol bye

17 ) pack it up shawn mendes

TBD

#galacticseonghwa #nct #nct dream #nctzen #chenle #zhong chenle #nct chenle #chenle fic #chenle smau #chenle texts #chenle smut #nct dream smau #lee jeno #lee haechan #na jaemin #shen ricky #seok matthew #huang renjun

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moralesluvr · 2 years ago

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high maintenance gf x earth 42 miles and how he would literally spoil her sm!! and everytime she gets her hair, nails, etc done he always wants to see them #SoCute🤭

take care of my woman ft. miles morales

♡ pairings & aus: earth42!miles morales x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: your boyfriend loves keeping his girl spoiled and happy, and he especially loves to see what he does for you ♡ warnings: one swear! just sum' good ole fluff ♡ a/n: thanks for your request!! we love the softie side of mr morales ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

MILES MORALES DEFINITELY SPOILS YOU. Every chance he can get, he's finding reasons to provide for his girl or finding ways and outlets to get you what you want. On this particular day, you were sitting in a hairstylist's chair after Miles caught you scrolling through different hairstyles on your Pinterest feed.

"You want that one, hermosa?" He had asked you earlier when he saw you save a picture of some goddess braids to your hair inspiration board. You didn't even bother to lie and say no, because you knew he could tell if you were lying, so you just nodded and watched as he sent you three hundred dollars to go and get your hair done. As you stood up and got ready to go, he came up to you and pulled his car keys out his pocket, "Take my whip. I'll see you later, okay? Love you."

Grinning at him, you had kissed him and left his house to go to your favorite hairstylist, Monica, who has never done you dirty in the years she's been doing your hair. You were sitting comfortably in her chair, catching up on the latest neighborhood gossip as your phone charged next to her hair station. She heard it buzz and she tapped your shoulder, "Girl, your man is texting you."

"Hand me the phone, please." You requested, the device getting placed into your palm as you felt Monica start on your next braid. You swiped your phone open and clicked on your boyfriend's text.

from [mi novio <3]: hey amor from [mi novio <3]: what yo hair lookin like? lemme see

You giggled at his message, "Yo, Monica, can you take a picture of the back of my head and send it to Miles?"

Monica snorts, "You do know this big 'ole ponytail ain't finish yet, right? I'm jus' starting the third row."

"Just take it." You urged with a laugh. You heard your stylist snap the picture and click send, and within seconds, your boyfriend was texting you back.

from [mi novio <3]: yikes bae from [mi novio <3]: thats the end product? from [mi novio <3]: u need some more $$ ??

to [mi novio <3]: no u idiot, she ain done yet to [mi novio <3]: i think imma get blonde ends whatchu think?

from [mi novio <3]: get 'em, youll look cute in that

to [mi novio <3]: wait crap i dont have enough money

MI NOVIO <3 HAS SENT YOU $100 DOLLARS.

from [mi novio <3]: here u go ma from [mi novio <3]: txt me when u done from [mi novio <3]: i love u

You grinned at your phone and set it down, slumping back in the chair as you waited for Monica to finish your hair up. You couldn't wait to get home to your boyfriend and show him.

After what seemed like an eternity, your braids were finally finished, dipped, and your scalp had been moussed. You swiped your (more like Miles') card and smiled at Monica, who wished you a good day and slipped a free hair oil in your bag. You made your way outside and quickly drove back to your boyfriend's place, excited to show him your new hairstyles.

You unlocked the door to his crib once you arrived. You saw him sitting on the couch, manspreading with his hands behind his head, watching something on TV that you would probably have little to no interest in. You grinned and squealed when you saw him, plopping down next to him, "Look at my hairrrrr!"

He smiled at you, kissing your cheek, "Lookin' so fine, déjame hacer una foto."

You watch as your boyfriend takes out his phone and takes a picture of your hair, saving it to some folder. You peek over with a smile as you see the name,

my woman and the shit i pay for.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10

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flan-tasma · 11 months ago

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With a Baby! (Neuvilette x Fem!Reader)

💖~ Hey, I'm back!

Yeh, I'm not dead, I just disappeared a lot.

Warning: Nope now💖, light spicy at point three, Female Reader | Google Translate sponsors me (it's a lie) If I made any mistakes in the english translation, I would be happy to read your comments! | Content in spanish and english

Spanish:

Neuvilette ha pensado antes en tener una familia contigo, siempre que te comportas tan bonita como siempre con él, cuando cuidas de alguna Melusine que encuentran en el camino a casa o cuando haces cosas tan normales como preparar algo de comer. Siempre piensa en ti como una madre fabulosa.

La idea de que seas una figura cariñosa con posibles hijos suyos pasa desde los escenarios más dulces y adorables, verte cargando a un pequeñito parecido a él y llamándolo tu amor, levantarse y verte arrullar a una niñita con sus ojos. Está en las nubes cada que lo imagina.

Luego todo lo dulce se va filtrando a la necesidad de que tengas a sus hijos, la necesidad de verte con el vientre abultado por su escencia, la necesidad de criarte. Y eso es exactamente lo que hace.

Luego de que logran tener un descendiente, creo que Neuvillette tiene problemas a la hora de llamarlo. Le dices que es un bebé y él dice que es una cría, con el tiempo aprende a llamarlo bebé, pero sigue susurrando que es una pequeña cría formándose en el vientre de su mamá, todo mientras acaricia tu estómago.

Durante el embarazo se vuelve muy sobreprotector. No quiere que te muevas mucho y te canses, no tienes que levantarte a cocinar porque puedes quedarte, no debes agacharte, él recogerá lo que tiraste o te conseguirá otro. Solo no quiere que te hagas daño.

Definitivamente hace una especie de nido con ropa vieja y cómoda, almohadas y deja alguna piedra brillante porque brilla y cree que te gustará.

Sigue preguntándose si pondrás un huevo o no, solo espera que no te duela mucho. Se prepara mucho para dar la bienvenida al pequeño nuevo ser que tendrá su sangre, ya eligieron un nombre, ropa y juguetes divertidos.

Estuvo muy enfocado en decorar la habitación del bebé, quería que los colores le dieran paz y que le gustara su habitación.

Cuando el bebé nace, casi está rezando a todas las deidades que conoce o conoció porque no quiere que sufras, pero se calma cuando le dicen que todo está bien y que el parto está llendo con naturalidad.

¡Felicidades, tienen un adorable bebé! Al inicio puede ser extraño, tal vez incómodo y doloroso, pero hey, estás dando a luz a un dragón.

Literalmente un dragón, largo y escamoso, con pelo muy corto y casi inexistente. Parece un pequeño perrito, pero Neuvilette dice que es normal, aprenderá a tomar forma humana cuando crezca.

Lleva al bebé y a su pareja a casa y los hace descansar mientras se toma su tiempo analizando al drahoncito que tiene en brazos, cómo se retuerce entre sus brazos y cómo su respiración se siente en su mano. Está casi llorando y lo sabes porque algunas gotitas empiezan a resbalarse por la ventana.

Está muy feliz, abraza a la cría y lo acurruca en su pecho, dándole calor, recordándole que su papá estaba con él. Que nunca estaría solo, siempre tendría a alguien que cuide de él.

Cuando pasa un tiempo y el pequeño ya abre los ojos, Neuvilette está decidido. Te mira con toda la seriedad del mundo y te pide dos o tres crías más. Quiere una camada.

English:

Neuvilette has thought about having a family with you before, whenever you behave as nice as ever with him, when you take care of some Melusine you meet on the way home or when you do things as normal as preparing something to eat. He always thinks of you as a fabulous mother.

The idea that you are a loving figure with possible children of his comes from the sweetest and most adorable scenarios, seeing you holding a little boy who looks like him and calling him your love, getting up and seeing you cooing at a little girl with his eyes. He is in the clouds every time he imagines it.

Then everything sweet filters into the need for you to have his children, the need to see yourself with a bulging belly due to his essence, the need to breed you. And that's exactly what he does.

After you manage to have an offspring, I think Neuvillette has problems calling the baby. You tell him it's a baby and he says it's a offspring, eventually he learns to call it a baby, but he keeps whispering that it's a little baby growing in his mother's belly, all while caressing your stomach.

During pregnancy he becomes very overprotective. He doesn't want you to move a lot and get tired, you don't have to get up to cook because you can stay, you don't have to bend over, he will pick up what you threw away or get you another one. He just doesn't want you to get hurt.

He definitely makes a kind of nest with old and comfortable clothes, pillows and leaves some shiny stones because it's shines and he thinks you will like it.

He keeps wondering if you'll lay an egg or not, he just hopes it doesn't hurt too much. He prepares a lot to welcome the little new being that will have his blood, you have already chosen a name, clothes and fun toys.

He was very focused on decorating the baby's room, he wanted the colors to give them peace and he wanted them to like their room.

When the baby is born, he is almost praying to all the deities he knows or knew because he doesn't want you to suffer, but he calms down when the doctor tell him that everything is fine and that the birth is going naturally.

Congratulations, you have an adorable baby At first it may be strange, maybe uncomfortable and painful, but hey, you are giving birth to a dragon.

Literally a dragon, long and scaly, with very short and almost non-existent hair. He looks like a small dog, but Neuvilette says it's normal, he will learn to take human form when he grows up.

He takes the baby and his partner home and makes them rest while he takes his time analyzing the little dragon in his arms, how he squirms in his arms and how his breath feels on his hand. He is almost crying and you know it because some droplets start to slide down the window.

He is very happy, hugs the baby and snuggles it into his chest, giving it warmth, reminding him that his father was with him. That he would never be alone, he would always have someone to take care of him.

When some time passes and the little one opens his eyes, Neuvilette is determined. He looks at you with all the seriousness in the world and asks for two or three more offsprings. He wants a brood.

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