#//Using their heads as a chin rest or leaning on them and patting their heads

[wcrldcffantasy]

Anna winced as she heard the other almost let out a pained sound despite being so good natured about it, and she had to give a weak crooked grin of 'I'm sorry' that was written all over her freckled face.

Yeah, it was still hard getting used to being so careful about her strength, especially when she tended to not think before acting. Elsa had always told her that there are times that Anna would be very reckless when it comes to her strength, particularly when Anna would have a rare temper when it came to her older sister. An example of this was when Elsa was still in ruling for that one year of being Queen, during one delegate meeting of someone giving a side comment about Elsa's powers and her capabilities of being a ruler...

Well, that day Anna had broken a very old and very rare Arendelle mahogany table in two...

At the comment of being tough, she huffed, "Darn right I am! I mean...well, I gotta be..."

And then the words...about Hans' family.

Indeed, she did remember back then that he would talk about his twelve older brothers, and the many times they would be sorta, kinda, mean to him (these were those that were around his age), and Anna had lamented about Elsa....

Thinking back now, it sounded like she was indeed an immature whining brat, and that thought made Anna wince a bit.

And then the hug came and Anna's brain broke for a second. It was like a scratch of the musical record player that Elsa plays sometimes during their game nights, making the red head almost stiffen.

Anna took a moment to gather her thoughts, and soon wrapped her own arms awkwardly around him, patting his back and rested her chin on his shoulder in the hug, nodding her head, "S-sure...I mean, no prob, Bob....I mean Hans--"

She mental smacked herself at the cringe worthy slip of the tongue, but then leaned back for a moment and observed his face. Her eyes softened at seeing those eyes full of long time regret and...a sense of relief and sincerity.

She smiled up at him, and then let out a small and soft laugh, "Thank you too...I mean, for this talk. It is good that we managed to at least get some closure out of this. Maybe not all of it, but it's a start..."

At the sound of her name being called, Anna tilted her head as she saw that one of the workers were in need of her, and she looked back at Hans with another happy smile.

"Duty calls. And um...if you ever do want to talk more, we could...maybe do so around dinner time? N-Not at the Palace, but I do know a good place near Oaken's..."

One step at a time, Anna knew that everyone does deserve a second chance for a change. It will be a slow process since trust is a shaky grounds as of this moment...but she knew that at least this was a good turning point for the both of them.

Now...at least they could close the chapter of their messy past and start anew. Especially when Hans has been working hard as she had observed today. And she hoped that he will continue to do so.

'Besides, it seems like the townspeople are warming up to him already, despite the earlier worries...' She would think, taking Hans' hand and squeezed it gently before walking off and waving at him before her thoughts continued, 'I should write to Elsa about today's events...oh! Also gotta write to Kristoff..I hope he and Sven arrived in that other Kingdom for his ice business safely~'

Of course! Here’s a revised version of Hans' reply based on your requests:

As Anna reached out to pull him back down, Hans wasn’t quite ready for the sudden jolt. He was yanked downward with such force that he stumbled a little, eyes widening in surprise. He quickly righted himself and, still blinking in shock, waved his hand dismissively, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Whoa there!” he chuckled, rubbing his shoulder with a good-natured grimace. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of someone with such strength! You could put some of the guards to shame.” He gave her a reassuring grin, careful to show no signs of injury, though his ribs might’ve gotten an unexpected workout. “But no harm done, really. I’m all in one piece.”

He shifted slightly, leaning back on his hands, watching her with genuine warmth as she apologized again.

“You know, for someone who’s known for being so tough, you’re certainly very apologetic,” he teased lightly. “Don’t worry about it, Anna. It’s actually… kind of charming, in a way.”

When she thanked him for his honesty, he nodded solemnly, his expression softening.

“Thank you for saying that,” he replied sincerely. “It’s… not something I knew I needed to hear, but it means a lot.”

He let out a small, almost incredulous laugh at the mention of Olaf being the therapist.

“Olaf? A therapist?” Hans shook his head, amused. “Well, I suppose if anyone could make something like that work, it would be him. With his… delightful blend of wisdom and childlike wonder.” He snorted softly. “I think I could’ve used some of his therapy back then. I’m sure it would’ve been far more entertaining than my attempts at handling everything on my own.” World about the snowman traveled far and wide from visitors.

His smile faded slightly as he listened to Anna’s words, empathy creeping into his gaze.

“I understand what you mean,” he said quietly. “I felt lonely too, more than I ever admitted to anyone. Being the youngest… it was a constant struggle to fit in with my brothers. They were older, and already settled with families of their own. The few who were closer to my age… well, they didn’t have much interest in having a brother, let alone a younger one. Honestly, I didn’t even know how to talk to them about what I was going through. I just…” He paused, looking down for a moment. “I felt like I was invisible like I didn’t matter. Like I was just… a placeholder in the family, waiting for something, anything, to make me stand out.” He glanced up at Anna, meeting her gaze. “I get it, Anna. I really do.”

He let out a quiet sigh, then took a breath, trying to push through the emotional heaviness.

“Thank you, Anna. For being so honest with me… it means more than I can say. All of this… it’s been a long time coming, and I’m glad we’ve been able to talk about it.” He gave her a small smile, and without another word, he gently pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her in a simple, heartfelt gesture.

“I think… after all that, a hug might be in order. We both needed one, I think.”

This version captures the empathy and humor you requested, as well as the emotional complexity of their conversation. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like to tweak!

[dutybcrne]

No thoughts, just Kae in that one corrupted/allied to the Abyss sibling verse I rambled abt a bit ago occasionally bullying Abyss mages into cuddles whenever he’s with the Abyss sibling bc Klee was onto smth when she called hers Mr Fluffy, they are the closest thing to stuffies he can have out there-

[luveline]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.

You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match. 

The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks. 

Finished. his text says. 

Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened. 

You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.

Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.

The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly. 

You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light. 

You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough. 

You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready. 

"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?" 

"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen. 

His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side. 

Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway. 

He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head. 

Miguel squints at you. "What?" 

"What?" you ask back. 

He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge. 

With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength. 

"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek. 

"It's going to make my skin clearer." 

"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible." 

"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment. 

But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti." 

You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake." 

"It's fish?" 

"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides. 

That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry… 

Does Miguel not want to kiss you? 

"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods." 

You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest. 

"You'd love that." 

"Are you teasing me?" 

Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs." 

"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders." 

"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want." 

Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through. 

Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings. 

A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?

"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone. 

The puppy barks hello. 

"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta." 

"I want what you want," you say honestly. 

He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks. 

"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance. 

You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid." 

Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up. 

Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried. 

"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks. 

"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"

"Grody? I doubt that–" 

"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back." 

"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?" 

"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?" 

Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering." 

You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon. 

"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?" 

"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine." 

You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you. 

"I sent you all those photos," you say. 

One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you." 

The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch. 

"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"

"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge." 

You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking. 

The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better. 

"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night. 

He's talkative tonight. 

"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much." 

Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing. 

"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led." 

"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime. 

Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed. 

"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.

You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt. 

"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive." 

"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad." 

Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it. 

"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little. 

"Then…" 

You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?" 

He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead. 

Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him. 

"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that." 

You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it. 

"You're not mad?" he asks again. 

You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss. 

It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard. 

"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away. 

You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy. 

"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks. 

"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?" 

Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?" 

"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?" 

He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.

"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.

"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?" 

He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely. 

"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?" 

"Your face was wet." 

"And after when we were eating dinner?" 

Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point." 

"A kiss would've made me feel better." 

You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back. 

"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know." 

"Cariño, I always want to know," he says. 

You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek. 

"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I need a drink." 

A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands. 

"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.

A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck. 

"No!" you laugh. 

Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down. 

"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"

"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile. 

You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down. 

You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold." 

Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on. 

He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises. 

"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo." 

Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!

[wileys-russo]

https://x.com/kaitsgooner/status/1752015922892620031?s=46&t=k-Lwg3ELXoOdR-KcbCNumw

Leah’s always gossiping😭 she’s so funny. Would love a little fic of Leah and reader just on the bench and Leah is just full on gossiping to reader while your trying to focus on the game. Eventually getting pulled into Leah’s gossip

gossip II l.williamson

you watched with pride as your girlfriend jogged over to the sidelines, smacking her palm against laia's and clapping the catalonian on the back who raced across the pitch to take her place.

you waited patiently as leah greeted the coaching staff, shaking hands and having a quick word with the defensive head and pointing out a few things as he slid over to speak with jonas and leah made her way down the line of subs, fist bumping each girl as she went.

"hello bench warmer." the blonde teased with a grin, quickly pecking your lips and dropping down onto the grass in front of you, waving off frida's offer to move down a seat so your girlfriend could sit beside you.

"charming as ever darling." you sighed with a smile, handing her a recovery shake as she shuffled back slightly to lean against your legs, patting your knee affectionately.

as she locked into a conversation with alessia who was sat on your other side you zoned out a little, chin resting on your fist and watching the game.

"babe!" you glanced down as leah shook your leg, raising an eyebrow. "do you remember the florist? the one down the street from that bakery we like?" leah questioned as you smiled.

"lee we can gossip all you want on the drive home, watch the game." you laughed quietly, knowing the blondes tendencies far too well as she huffed and turned back to speak with alessia.

arsenal had a two goal lead but you knew even if there was only twenty minutes left that anything could happen, which is why you paid little attention to your girlfriends stories.

though you could tell she was getting into them given the way her hands darted about as she spoke making you smile fondly as alessia and now kyra hung off the older girls every word, also now clearly invested into her tales.

"leah!" you whined shoving her shoulder as your girlfriend pinched your inner thigh, having tapped you a few times and getting no response. "i called your name nicely first! space cadet." her hand reached up to poke at your cheek as you pushed it away and sat back properly.

"you know the girl from the bakery we like yeah? the one who always slips us extra pastries when the boss isn't in, olivia? olive? i think its olivia." leah again tried to draw you in as you shook your head.

"you're a terrible gossip williamson, watch the girls! and you, stop encouraging her less!" you warned the grinning blonde beside you who shrugged, kyras head popping over her shoulder matching her eagerness. "why? she's a great story teller!" the australian defended as leah hit your knee with a happy smirk and you rolled your eyes.

"stop yapping and support your teammates! all three of you." you warned a little more sternly, the younger girls beside you deflating somewhat as leah rolled her eyes but turned around to face the pitch, sipping at her shake.

but once the beverage was finished it failed to serve as a distraction, leah growing restless and leaning over to tap alessia's knee and you sighed as within seconds both her and kyra were once more hanging off your girlfriends every syllable.

"-the florist!" you only caught the last of your girlfriends sentence, drawn into the conversation by the loud gasps of shock from the younger girls beside you and even frida who leah seemed to have sucked in now too.

"wait what?" you questioned with a frown, clearly having missed the build up as you watched manu make a diving save and breathed a sigh of relief.

"well well well. look who wants in on the gossip train!" leah smirked as you rolled your eyes and shook your head, ignoring her and instead turning back to the game. "whatever." you rolled your eyes stubbornly, focusing on the pitch again but feeling leahs eyes bore up into you.

"fine! you've twisted my arm, i'll tell you." leah tapped your thigh to gain your attention back as you couldn't help but be amused by her obvious enthusiasm. "back to my original question, you know the florist-" leah began tracking backward as you nodded.

"the one near the bakery we like, i do. what about him?" you frowned as leah huffed. "bubba theres layers to this story, don't interrupt!" the blonde warned sternly wagging a finger at you as you shoved alessia who giggled.

"well the florist. so he's married yeah? he has that photo of his wife and kid on the counter, and he always has that gold wedding band on. i remember because its got his wives initials carved into it which is quite cute, or maybe its their kids initials?" leah frowned, pausing as you again nodded though this time wordlessly.

"anyway not important. well i went in to see him on tuesday, remember i got you that huge bouquet and brought you breakfast in bed and then we had second bre-" you hurried to cover her mouth as the tips of your ears flushed red.

"leah what we do in the bedroom is private!" you hissed in warning for the words which you'd stopped before they fell. "we already heard about it when she told us the story." kyra piped up cheekily as you groaned and removed your hand, shrinking a little in embarrassment.

"anyway. well i went in on tuesday and no wedding band, no picture." leah continued on completely ignoring your reaction, pulling your hand away and kissing your knuckles sweetly before letting go.

"which is weird right? but then i also went to the bakery because as we both know their bread is the very best bread for a ham sandwich. so i went in to get a loaf and i noticed there was a different woman serving, not olivia or olive whatever her name is who usually always works on tuesdays." leahs eyes narrowed as you hummed to show you were listening.

"so i subtly asked, more so joked really, about where she was. turns out she's on maternity leave? i didn't even notice she was pregnant but apparently she's due in a few weeks!" leah scoffed in disbelief as you frowned, also not having picked up on that throughout the many months you and leah had frequented the bakery.

"so while i was waiting for the bread, and i won't lie babe i did get a croissant and finish it before i got home so you wouldn't know." leah smiled apologetically as you shoved her head with a playful roll of your eyes.

"but this is the scandal of it all. so i overheard one of the bakers on the phone and it turns out that-" leah was cut off as cheers errupted around meadow park, the final whistle blowing signalling the game was over and arsenal had indeed reigned victorious.

you waited patiently for leah to finish, watching as she placed her palms on your knees and used them to help her push up to her feet before holding out her hands to help you up.

"turns out that..." you trailed off eagerly with wide eyes as the rest of the girls began to jog out onto the pitch to congratulate everyone and greet the fans.

"i'll tell you later. come on gorgeous!" leah kissed your cheek and wandered off after lia as your jaw dropped. "what happened?" you grabbed alessia with wide eyes who shrugged. "its leahs story! i'll probably miss details and tell it wrong." the blonde tugged her hands away and followed after kyra as you groaned.

"leah!" you huffed in annoyance, hurrying after her and hating how much she'd peaked your curiousity.

"leah you can't leave it there, finish the story!" you whined catching up to her as lia just smiled in amusement not even needing to know the context as your girlfriend just tutted and slung an arm over your shoulder, kissing your cheek again with a grin.

"nah we can gossip all you want on the drive home, right baby?"

[idyllcy]

bite - professor!simon riley x professor!reader (suggestive warning!)

"Thanks for walking me back."

"Of course!" The new professor stumbles, cheeks red as you smile. How cute.

"I'll be seeing you?" You raise a brow, hand on the handle of your shared office.

"Y-yes!"

The door opens before you can react, and Simon stares down at the professor, brow raised as you greet him, eyes lighting up and patting his chest to have him bend down for you.

"Professor Smith." Simon nods. "Congratulations on the degree."

"S-sir!"

"Just Simon is fine. No difference in status here." He smiles. "It's getting late and I've gotta get my missus home, so if you'll excuse us."

"Of course." He nods, scampering off as you laugh.

"He wasn't doing anything."

"He's in love with you, luvie." Simon mumbles, hand finding your chin to squeeze your cheeks as he leans in for a kiss. "Should I get you a bigger ring?"

"That's hardly necessary." You hum, laughing as he grunts.

"Ought to sink my teeth into your skin until those marks are permanent then." Simon lets go of your cheeks to kiss you properly, hand resting on your jaw as you lean in to kiss him properly — too much teeth to be gentle, his body hunched over yours as your nails dig to ground yourself. Your lashes flutter closed as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, letting him nip at your bottom lip and let go with a pop, his stubble soft against your jaw as he unlocks his jaw to bite at your jugular, teeth sinking in as you wince.

"Si." You grumble.

He doesn't respond, biting down harder as you sigh, squeezing at his shoulders as he finally lets go. Your fingers reach to collect his saliva from the bite, licking them off as he stares down at you.

"It's not fair if only you get to bite." You pinch at his ear, hissing as he leans down. "Why are you acting like your students aren't all up on your dick and practically begging me to leave you so they can get bent over that stupid table of yours?"

"They're not my wife, luvie."

"And you're not my husband?" You hiss. "Thought you trusted me, Si."

"do." He mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "Trust you a lot. 'm sorry."

"How sorry?" You raise a brow, watching as he stares back up at you, dangerous glint in his eye as you cock your head to the side.

"If you wanted to get bent over the desk you could have just asked, my missus." He whispers, eye glancing at the door. "Say the word 'n 'm yours. 'm your husband before all else."

You open your mouth, teeth biting into his collarbone as he kicks to close the door.

Anything for his missus.

[marysfics]

Tracing Memories in the Morning Light

Your daughter notices your wife's tattoos.

Fluff, pure fluff

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. It was a rare morning in the Putellas household where nothing was pulling either of you out of bed. No matches, no training sessions, no schedules, just a day to be together.

Alexia lay on her stomach beside you, her eyes half-closed, while your little girl, who was just shy of walking, nestled between the two of you.

She still didn’t talk yet, just sweet babbles that made your heart swell, but her expressions said more than words could.

You were sitting up, your back resting against the headboard, watching as your daughter clambered onto your wife's back with that determined look she always wore.

A small giggle escaped your lips as her tiny hands explored Alexia’s tattoos, her fingers tracing the inked lines with fascination.

“She’s obsessed with your tattoos,” you murmured, reaching over to brush a lock of Alexia’s hair away from her face.

Alexia smiled softly, eyes still closed, her voice low and sleepy. “She’s always like this when she notices them. It’s like she’s trying to figure them out.”

Your daughter gave a small, delighted squeal as her hands landed on the tattooed rose near Alexia’s shoulder blade, fingers gently patting it as if to say, What is this?

“Careful, baby,” you chuckled softly, guiding her little hands so she wasn’t pressing too hard. “Mama’s not a coloring book.”

Alexia let out a laugh, her back muscles rippling slightly under your daughter’s touch. “She might disagree with you on that,” she teased, turning her head slightly to glance at you. “I’m her favorite canvas.”

“She’s definitely an artist in the making,” you replied, your heart melting as you watched your little girl lean down and place a slobbery kiss on Alexia’s back, right on the tattoo. You and Alexia both burst out laughing.

“That’s one way to appreciate art, I suppose,” Alexia said, her voice warm with affection. She turned onto her side gently, careful not to dislodge the baby, who now sat between you both, her wide eyes watching your movements as if she understood the moment was special.

You leaned down and kissed the top of your daughter’s head, inhaling that sweet baby scent that somehow never faded. “You’re such a little explorer today,” you whispered to her. She responded with a series of babbles, lifting her arms toward you.

You pulled her into your lap, and she immediately snuggled against you, her tiny head resting under your chin. Alexia scooted closer, propping herself up on her elbow, her eyes soft as they roamed over the both of you.

“I could get used to this,” Alexia said quietly, her hand coming up to stroke your daughter’s back, her thumb brushing against the soft fabric of her onesie. “No rush, no pressure. Just… us.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, leaning your head back against the pillow, your eyes meeting Alexia’s. “It’s not often we get this, is it?”

“No,” she admitted, her expression turning slightly wistful. “But that’s what makes it special.”

Your daughter shifted in your lap, her tiny hand reaching out toward Alexia again, her fingers making a beeline for the small tattoo on her wrist this time. Alexia chuckled, offering her hand for exploration.

“She really is fascinated by them, huh?” you mused, watching your little girl’s concentration as if she was deciphering some great mystery.

Alexia nodded. “Maybe when she’s older, she’ll ask me about them. About what they mean.” She looked at you, her eyes softening. “About the memories behind them.”

You smiled at the thought. “And you’ll tell her all your stories. All the ones she hasn’t lived yet but will one day be a part of.”

Alexia’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between you both, a shared understanding of how these quiet, intimate moments were the ones that made everything else worth it.

The games, the traveling, the time apart.

It all led back to this.

To home.

[natstulip]

Good girl ♡ ︎𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

I’ve never really written smut before so I hope it’s okay!🤍

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Imagine agreeing to let Wanda and Nat use you however and whenever they wish. No you’re not in a relationship, but you help to keep their own relationship interesting- as they like to say.

Both women had been out on a mission for a few weeks, with a lot of the team. You, not being an avenger, of course missed the company, the compound being fairly empty and so as a result really quiet. In fact, the team were due back yesterday from the mission, but fury let us know they’d been delayed so would likely get back soon.

——-

I was laying in bed, mindlessly scrolling on my phone as I watched whatever happened to be on the television. Although that didn’t take me long to get bored, it’s how I’d spent basically all my time since being left all alone. I pick up my phone deciding to listen some music, and I grab my headphones because come on, music is way better when it feels like it’s taking over your brain.

I’m dancing away and singing too, with my eyes closed getting really into it. I only stop when I feel a tap on my back. “AGHH” I can’t help the scream I let out, as I rip my headphones off and spin around with a fighting stance ready.

When I realise it’s in fact Wanda and Nat and they’re back from their mission, I feel my face burn in embarrassment. The massive smirk on Nat’s face speaks for itself, as she mumbles “I wasn’t expecting a welcome back show but I have to say I really enjoyed it.”

I blush a deep shade of red at her teasing, only giving a little smile of my own when I see Wanda smack Nat’s arm saying “Hey, leave her alone.”

Nat huffs “Why should I? Look at her cute red face.”

I’m avoiding all eye contact whatsoever right now, not wanting to make a fool of myself any more than I clearly already have.

Wanda chuckles in response to Nat’s words “She’s totally adorable, you’re right about that.”

I don’t even know what to do with myself when they’re practically talking about me as if I’m not standing right here.

Wanda interrupts my inner battle, “Come here baby, I want a hug.” I look up excited, I’ve really missed her touch, and I see her arms opened wide. I rush into her, making her laugh, as she wraps her arms tight around me. I nuzzle my face into her neck, always feeling more at ease from her comforting smell. She rubs my back and mumbles against my head “I’ve missed you so much my sweet girl.” I move my head so I can reach her face, giving her a quick peck on the lips, with a shy look on my face “I missed you lots mommy.”

I hear a cough behind us, “What about daddy, huh?” I’m spun around rather quickly, and Nat’s finger is under my chin. I murmur “I missed you too daddy, a lot.” She hums what seems to be an approval to my words, seemingly waiting for something. I’m not as bold with anything when it comes to Natasha. I’ll kiss Wanda sometimes by me initiating because she’s so comforting but Nat scares me a little. She stares at me until I cave, and hesitantly lean towards her, with a burning face, and kiss her lips quickly.

After an anxious pause, I get a “good girl” from her making me give a goofy smile, and I feel Wanda stroking my hair softly. “Our good good little girl, you going to let us take care of you tonight?” I look at her with wide eyes, causing them both to give each other a smile.

Natasha set herself down on the desk chair in my room, patting her lap while uttering “Sit baby.” I know better than to argue with her so I instantly walk over and make a move to straddle her lap. I don’t get very far because she places a hand on my chest and then does a ‘spin motion’ with her finger, telling me to turn around. Even though I’m a little confused, I turn and face Wanda. I feel Nat grab my hips from behind and pull me to sit, facing away from her. She rests her head on my shoulder, and Wanda crouched down in front of us.

I feel her hands on my legs, and Nat start to kiss my neck, making me instantly feel hot and flustered. I feel like my body stiffens since it’s been so long since I let them have all control.

“Baby, hey, look at mommy.” I move my gaze slowly to Wanda. “We’re here now, you don’t have to let your thoughts take over.” Natasha interrupts her to say “We’ll fuck the thoughts out of you baby, until all you can think about is mommy and daddy, yeah?”

Before I even have time to think about responding, Nat has spread my legs open wide, keeping her legs locked with mine- so I can’t move. It takes my breath away, not expecting her to be so upfront about it, as usually Wanda starts off more gentle, “What daddy let me go..”

Wanda cups my face to direct my eyes to hers, “shhh shhh, you’re okay, let daddy do what she pleases.” She makes no move to let go of my face, and I hope she doesn’t because her comforting touch really helps me through everything.

When I feel more kisses on my neck, and a rougher hand move down my stomach, I let out a gasp and grip onto Wanda’s arm. “Mommy’s staying right here baby, daddy’s gonna make you feel good, hm?”

At the same time as Wanda pulls me in for a kiss, Nat’s hand moves into my shorts, making me gasp. She cups me for a moment, not moving her hand, seemingly waiting for me to start squirming. Eventually she slowly runs the tip of her finger over my folds, just teasingly stroking there for what feels like a very long time, making me shiver.

I feel the soft breath of a chuckle on my neck, “You’re so sensitive huh my baby? I wonder if you could cum from just daddy barely touching you, and mommy kissing those pretty lips. We’ll have to try it sometime, because right now.. we’re trying something new” She raises her eyebrows at Wanda, who swiftly grabs something I assume with her magic, and holds it behind her back.

She moves back to stand in front of me, kissing my forehead, as she hands whatever she grabbed to Nat. I can’t see Nat’s face but I can picture her smirk while Wanda gives her a kiss, before returning to her position earlier, cupping my cheeks.

“Look at mommy.” I listen and look up at her. “We haven’t done what we’re gonna do now before. I’m sure you’ll like it darling but remember call ‘red’ if it’s too much or you want to stop at any point, okay?” I give her a nod, “Okay mommy, I understand.” I watch a smile arise on her face as she strokes my cheek, “My good girl.”

I feel a rush of cold air as Nat pulls the front of my shorts and underwear open for a brief moment, as she shoves something in there, to rest against my clit. “What’s that daddy?” Just as I ask the question it starts vibrating against me, making me let out a breath. She whispers against my ear, “It’s a vibrator baby, it’s gonna make you feel all better while daddy holds you open; and because you’ve been our good little girl we’re going to let you cum as much as you want.”

The first time she pushed me over the edge was nice, with Wanda stroking my face and a pleasurable vibration against me. Though it didn’t take long to get uncomfortable, when Nat said they were going to let me cum as much as I want, she definitely meant as much as they want, never seeming to let me stop and breathe. Every time I reach that point she just ups the vibrations and makes me go again.

I’ve lost count by this point how many times she’s made me cum, resorting to wriggling and kicking my legs and trying to pry her off with my hands; but that was silly as they’re much stronger than me. Nat simply shut me down by grabbing hold of my thighs with her hands and legs now- keeping me pinned to her lap. “Please daddy.. dadddy ‘s too much please…”

She presses a kiss to my shoulder mumbling “Just one more baby, one more, and then we’re done.” With Wanda gently wiping my tears, I can’t help the loud moan I let out as I reach my last climax. My legs are uncontrollably shaking, as Nat carefully removes the vibrator.

Wanda makes a move to pick me up into her arms, “I’ve got you my sweet girl,” as Nat makes her way to the bathroom to get a towel to clean me up with.

I’m laying down, on top of Wanda, while Nat gently cleans me up, and after only a few minutes I’m falling asleep against her chest, with only mommy and daddy on my mind.

[kneazle]

Buck sat at the kitchen island with his chin resting on his hand, watching Tommy pour ingredients into a bowl. It's been a week since he finally ended his keto diet and Tommy wanted to bake him a cake– to make up for not getting cake at the medal ceremony back then he said. Buck knew it was really Tommy wanting him try his baking for the first time.

As Tommy began mixing what was in the bowl—and if Buck paid extra attention to the way his arms moved and his hand gripped the spoon that was no ones business but his own—Buck blurted out the question that had been on his mind before Tommy became distracting. "What's five things you like about me?"

Tommy looked at him, eyebrow raised and never pausing his mixing. "Your eyes, smile, personality, the way you store all these facts in your brain, and your big heart."

Buck ducked his head slightly with a blush, a smile across his face. "Okay, what are four things I like?"

"Documentaries, Bobby's barbecues because everyone you love is there, cooking, when we go to the shelter and Lainey let's you go out into the yard to play with all the dogs."

"Three things I look good in?" Buck asked with a grin, leaning forward on his arms now.

"Your turnouts, sweats–" Tommy gave him a cheeky grin and Buck flushed thinking of the first time Tommy saw him in them, "And my arms." He finished with a wink, causing a goofy smile to form on Buck's face. That was his favorite place to be.

"What are two things I do a lot and don't notice?"

"Here can you finish mixing this while I get the pan and oven ready?" Tommy asked, handing him the bowl. Buck didn't hesitate to listen, mixing as he responded. "You use your hands a lot, and you steal the covers every night-"

"No I don't!"

"Oh you do, but it means I just have to cuddle you." Tommy teased, pulling a pan out from one of the cabinets.

Buck grumbled a you should be anyway under his breath making Tommy fondly roll his eyes before continuing. "What's one thing you would change about me?"

"Your last name."

Cake batter flew off the spoon and onto the surface of the island. Buck froze, mouth hanging open staring at Tommy who looked casual smiling at Buck like those three words didn't leave his mouth with no hesitation.

"Wh-" Buck swallowed, "What?"

Tommy slid the bowl away from him and leaned close. "I'm not picky on which way, hyphenate with whichever name first, drop Buckley and be Kinard, doesn't matter to me."

"You- you want to marry me?" Buck said sounding breathless, looking stunned but in wonder at the same time.

Tommy put two fingers under his chin, leaning closer to kiss him. "Evan, I'd fly us to Vegas today and marry you."

"It's- It's only been six months-" Buck's lips lifted into a smile. "But...I'd marry you too."

+Alternate ending or bonus (your choice)

"Is that a ring?!" Chimney said so loudly when he greeted Buck and spotted the ring, that it seemed the whole firehouse was looking.

Buck smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, holding his hand out that Hen quickly grabbed to inspect. "Uh yeah...surprise? Tommy and I went to Vegas!"

"Buck!" Hen looked at him in shock, before her face turned into a smile and a laugh bubbled out. "How am I surprised but not at the same time?"

"Oh come on! I was supposed to be your best man!" Eddie scowled, but still leaned in for a hug, a big pat on Buck's back.

"We're going to have an actual ceremony later with everyone, you can be best man then!"

"Maddie is going to be pissed, if she wasn't still working her double shift to cover for Josh I'd tell you to call her immediately!"

"Especially because you're about to burst keeping it a secret already?" Hen looked Chimney over who was bouncing on the heels of his feet, he gave her a 'what do you think?' look but didn't respond.

"Uh actually...Maddie already knows." Buck said slowly, bracing himself just in case.

"What?!"

"She didn't actually have a shift..." He took out his phone, showing them a picture of them both in rented suits, and Maddie in a dress between them beaming with pride.

"Oh that is sneaky! I'm both offended and proud at the same time!" Chimney took out his phone and walked off without another word.

Hen offered a congratulations with a chuckle before following after her best friend who was on the phone arm waving like crazy. Eddie glanced over at Bobby and mumbled a 'we'll talk later' before heading towards the stairs. Buck looked at Bobby who hadn't said a word, anxiety growing.

"Bobby I-"

Buck cut off as Bobby pulled him into a hug. He sighed out in relief and returned the hug, Bobby squeezing him a little tighter before pulling away. "I'm proud of you kid, you've come a long way."

"I- I kind of expected someone to make a comment on how early it is for us-"

Bobby laughed. "Athena and I waited less time than you two did, I have no right to judge you on that." His gaze softened. "And anyone paying attention could see that what you two have is real, you're different with him in a way you've never been before Buck, and while I didn't see Tommy for years I can tell you've changed him for the better. Congratulations kid, but now you have some paperwork to take care of."

Buck groaned, shoulders slumping as he followed a laughing Bobby to his office.

But even that didn't stop the wide grin on his face when he wrote Kinard on the paperwork.

[sommerbueckers]

hiyaa might get real specific with this one but can u do one where paige n r get a piece of furniture from ikea for their flat and paige is complaining that its not like lego at all. it takes them so long to build it and they just keep bickering and in the end they finally finish but find a whole bag of screws or sm

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

___________________________________________________________

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

✰ 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨, 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟𝐟

___________________________________________________________

YOU AND PAIGE HAD been shopping around for hours, neither of you seemingly able to agree on a theme for the empty room in your flat. Paige wanted to turn it into a game room; colorful furniture, sports posters littering the walls, an obnoxiously large TV accompanied by a PlayStation 5 with an obnoxious amount of controllers. You, the more reasonable and mature one, wanted to turn it into a mini library/guest bedroom for when family came to stay. Paige thought that was absolutely ridiculous.

She had nitpicked every piece of furniture you picked out; the bookshelf looked too old, the bed looked too small, the dresser 'just wasn't appealing to the eyes'. Your eyes narrowed with every 'no' she gave you, but nonetheless you let her have her way. Just like always.

Several furniture stores later, the two of you landed in the middle of a high scale Ikea. The cart you pushed in front of you was empty, save for your handbag which sat in the built in baby seat. You slowly turned your head from side to side, scrutinizing things in your head as you passed. Paige did the same, trailing closely behind you with her hands stuffed deep into her pockets.

You had slowly but surely found yourselves in the bedroom department, bed frames and nightstands surrounded you. Your eyes fell onto an ample-sized couch, the description reading 'Sofa Bed' in large, bold letters. You pushed the cart toward it to examine it closer, Paige's sighs growing faint as you left her behind. It was decently priced, and you discovered the material to be quite soft as you ran your hand over the armrest. You abandoned the cart, plopping down onto one of the cushions and getting comfortable.

"What're you doin?" Paige was leaning against a dresser, her chin resting against her arms.

"Come tell me if you think this is comfortable," you patted the space next to you, your decision-making face present.

"For what?" she asked, coming to join you without an answer. She sat down with a heavy sigh, shimmying in place.

"What do you think?"

She shrugged and made an unsatisfactory noise, "It's okay."

"Paige," you spoke sternly.

"What? You asked what I thought about it and I said it was okay, I don't like it, but clearly you do."

"What's wrong with this one then?" you ask, frustration evident in your voice.

"It's so lame. No colors, no patterns, just plain white."

"Paige, you already have your PlayStation in the living room and your entire side of the bedroom has basketball posters on it. You don't need an entire room for your stuff," you tried to reason.

"But you get to put all your books in there!" she complained.

"That's because my books hardly take up any space, and like I said before, it'd be nice for my mom to have someplace to stay when she comes to visit. Or what about your family, that way they don't have to get a hotel."

"If my family comes to visit, they're not stayin' with us. Ion want them hearing how I tear you up every night," she shook her head.

"Paige!" you slapped her arm, briefly making eye contact with a woman and her son as they passed by, no doubt having heard Paige's inappropriate comment. You gave her an awkward smile, casting your gaze downwards before looking back to your girlfriend. "Keep your voice down. Obviously we wouldn't be doing anything when they're visiting," you told her plainly.

"You expect me to keep my hands off you for that long? Yeah, fuck that, no way."

"Paige."

"What?"

"We're getting the couch."

When we reached the front of the furniture store to check out, Paige opted to put the large cardboard box containing the couch in the back of the car. It wasn't going to fit, and as the logical one of the two of you, you chose for the couch to be delivered to you for a fifty dollar fee. Paige sucked her teeth from beside you, you were always overriding her decisions. But in your defense, yours always worked out for the better.

When the clerk asked whether you wanted a team of men to assemble the couch upon delivery, you said 'yes', Paige said 'no'.

"Paige, we are not gonna put this thing together ourselves."

"Yes we are. Trust me, we got this, okay? I put shit together with my legos all the time, how hard could it be?"

"THIS SHIT IS REALLY FUCKIN' HARD," Paige groaned, her back resting against the wall as she stared tiredly at the mess you two had created, wishing that'd it just magically put itself together. Across her lap lay a sheet of directions, the paper was incredibly creased, finger sized dents on the page from having been passed back and forth between the two of you. You had been biting your lip to say 'I told you so' from the moment you had opened the box and were met with the complexity of the situation.

You were standing with an unimpressed look on your face, a piece of metal in one hand and a drill in the other. You were impatiently tapping your foot against the floor.

"Maybe if you had listened to me when I requested for them to put it together when they delivered it, we wouldn't be sitting here stuck as fuck," you sassed, pursing your lips out at her.

You were met with a glare. "Dude, okay! I'm sorry I overestimated your hard labor skills," she responded.

"I don't have hard labor skills, and neither do you! Seriously, what on Earth made you think this was a good idea?"

"Oh like you haven't overestimated yourself before," Paige rolled her eyes.

"Um, I haven't, thank you. I know my limits," you argued.

"What about the time we went to the gym and you tried to benchpress 150 without warming up?" she raised her brow.

"Okay well that was—"

"Or the time you thought you could make blueberry muffins from scratch without looking at the directions?"

"In my defense I had—"

"And let's not forget about how you bet me your favorite sweatshirt that you could beat me in Fortnite because you had been watching me long enough."

"Okay! Enough Paige, I get it," you seethed, furrowing your eyebrows at the taller girl. She was looking down at you with a victorious smirk, her arms crossing over her chest as you smoke again. "I haven't always been exactly...grounded. But still, in all the losses I've had, I've never dragged you down with me. I feel like there's a chain tied around my ankles right now and you just threw the anchor half a mile underground."

"Oh this is not that bad," she laughed.

"Paige we've been here for hours and we haven't put a single piece together!" you were laughing too.

"That's because you're goin' too slow, if you would've jus' listened to me then we would already be done!"

"Like when you told me we had to buy a mattress first and build around that?" you snorted, your hands on your hips.

"Does it not make sense?"

"Can you just hand me the directions please?" you sighed.

WITH A SATISFIED GRIN, you slapped your hands against your knees and stood, admiring the sofa bed you and Paige had finally assembled. The room was filled with the faint smell of new furniture and the evidence of your hard work—scattered instructions, a few empty screw packets, and two exhausted, but triumphant smiles.

Paige stood beside you, her own smile shining brightly. "I told you we had it," she said, giving your shoulder a proud pat.

You briefly narrowed your eyes at her, feigning indignation. "Yes, after hours of me having to go behind your mistakes and fix them, we’re finally done!"

Paige laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad!"

Just as you both started to clean up, you noticed a small bag tucked away beneath the pile of discarded packaging. Curious, you reached down and pulled it out, feeling the weight of it in your hand.

"Uh, Paige?" you said, holding up the bag for her to see.

Paige turned to you, her smile fading slightly as she recognized what you were holding. "You gotta be joking."

You nodded, your own smile slipping into a look of bewilderment. "I think we missed a step...or several."

Paige’s eyes widened as she took the bag from you, examining it with disbelief. "How did we miss this? We used everything else!"

You both stared at the bag for a moment, then turned to look at the sofa bed, which was standing proudly in the middle of the room. The realization set in, and you could feel a mix of horror and amusement bubbling up inside you.

Paige was the first to break the silence, a laugh escaping her lips. "Well… at least it hasn’t collapsed yet?"

You couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity of the situation too much to ignore. "Maybe it’s a miracle of engineering."

Paige shook her head, still laughing. "You think we should take it apart?"

You both glanced at the sofa bed again, then at each other. The thought of spending more hours disassembling and reassembling the whole thing was almost too much to bear.

"Nah," you finally said, tossing the bag of screws onto the floor. "Let’s just pretend this never happened. If it falls apart, we’ll deal with it then."

Paige grinned, relieved. "Okay. Besides, it looks good enough to me."

You both flopped onto the sofa bed, testing its sturdiness. It held up, at least for the moment, and that was good enough for now. You shared a glance, bursting into another fit of laughter. 

___________________________________________________________

[valwrote]

Running fingers through their hair 🤍

ft. wriothesley, alhaitham and neuvillette.

synopsis : you convince them into playing with their hair and you end up taking undue advantage of it.

warnings : implied fem!reader, pet names, mention of murder and suicide (neuvillette – no there is no angst here.).

a/n : fluff but seriously hair is so floof in genshin and i love me some domesticated content.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

"No." He crossed his arms in disapproval at your request.

"Haitham! Come on!" You begged your husband to let you run your fingers through his hair in hopes to help him unwind and relax but he was adamant not letting you.

"I am sorry [Name], but I have a meeting due in an hour with the Dendro Archon about some administrative changes and as much as I would love to catch a break, I can't as of now." He exasperated, voice laced with annoyance.

Ever since becoming the Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham had gotten just a tad bit more whinier. You weren't complaining since Alhaitham had the emotional quotient of a rock.

"Oh come on! It's still an hour away. C'mere." You patted your lap. He sighed but agreed. You found yourself combing your nifty fingers through his grey locks. They felt soft to touch. Who are you kidding, he was a well groomed gentleman despite his emotionally constipated personality.

His eyes were focused on a book he was reading, his eyes scanning the pages but his expression was relaxed. He won't admit it but he liked it. This was a simple yet intimate gesture.

You on the other hand, stared outside of the window, fingers still running through his hair. The scenery of Sumeru city stretched out far and wide for your eyes to see. The sky was beaming with light, birds were chit chatting on the tree branches and–

Snore.

Your focus gets redirected back at Alhaitham who now had the book resting on his face, his chest rising rhythmically as you heard him breathing softly.

You chuckled at the sight. He really did fall asleep. He looked so carefree when a moment ago he was complaining about meetings and work. How amusing. An idea bubbled up in your head.

When Alhaitham woke up, he realised that he had fallen asleep and hurried out of the room to meet up with Nahida in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

"Good evening Acting Grand Sage, I was just waiting on you- pfft!" Nahida's cheeks puffed up and the little Archon started giggling.

"I am sorry for being late- wait, why are you laughing?" He tilted his expression in confusion. Could his late timing be a matter of amusement for his Archon?

"Who made two tiny ponytails in your hair using sparkly pink pyro slime hairties!" Nahida chuckled more, unable to hold her laughter.

"..." he reached up to feel the two tiny fountains of hair made by tying them up. Who could've done such a— you.

Needles to say, Alhaitham image of a big mighty serious guy in front of Nahida had now been ruined.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

"Ma Chérie, what do you think of this case?" Neuvillette leaned back into his chair, papers spread out on his table. You picked up one of the documents and examined them.

What made you and Neuvillette a match made in heaven was that you were one of Fontaine's best lawyers and Neuvillette was the Ludex. You both would brainstorm cases together though Neuvillette always tended to quote how he is unbiased as it is his duty as the Chief Justice to not let personal feelings get in the way.

Still, you catch him staring at you during court proceedings, expression twisting and turning based on the situation out of his instinctive concern for you.

"Well, I think this is a classic murder which is being displayed to the common eye like a suicide." You sighed and put the paper back on the table, stretching your back from fatigue.

"I must say, that's quite a possibility. I'd suggest you investigate futher and seek the truth." He pondered, his gloved hand resting on his chin.

"Neuvi, can we take a break? I am tired." You slumped down in the chair across him, exhausting from the repetitive task at hand.

"Indeed. Repetition tends to tire out the mortal brain. Let's continue this after lunch." He nodded and started to sort the papers according to there designated folders.

"Can I play with your hair till you get the sorting papers thing done?" You asked him and he seemed amused at the idea. Neuvillette was never reluctant from trying out new things and gave into your small pleasures if they made you happy. "Sure."

You ran your fingers through his white locks. Honestly his hair were so beautiful, it would put women's hair to shame. Neuvillette took good care of them. You started using this opportunity to experiment different hairstyles on him.

Neuvillette glanced up, only to see his hair in a braid from his reflection in the mirror with a black ribbon in them. He stared at the braid for a good minute, "Hmm simple, practical and elegant. It's quite nice." He mused.

You were proud of yourself before Neuvillette asked if he could try hairstyles on you.

An afternoon spent with chuckles, smiles, whacky and pretty hairstyles.

WRIOTHESLEY 🧊

You watched as Wriothesley worked like a machine.

Step 1 : Grab the paperwork

Step 2 : Read and Sign it

Step 3 : Put in the "done" pile

The sounds of paper swiping and pen scribbling filled the room. You tried to entertain yourself with some novel but you could hear wriothesley grunted and groaning in annoyance.

"Y'know, the best thing is to simply not to do the work if you don't feel like it, wrio." You suggested, flipping to the next page in the novel.

"You're right. I'll settle for a nap, drink tea after I get up and then continue doing this..." he grumbled before getting up and making his way to his bed upstairs. You afte a few minutes got up and followed him.

You both laid beside eachother, under the blankets, soaking in eachother's warmth. "You joinin' me on a nap, sweetheart?" A smile crawled onto his face as he looked at you with his icy hues.

"No, I am simply here to take care of you, silly." You kissed his nose as he took your palm firmly in his and kissed the back of it, endearingly. You peppered his face with feather kisses, tousling his soft black locks earning a relaxed hum of content from him.

Wriothesley was a man of limited needs and such small moments with you were his saving grace from the buttload of prison paper work. His arm snaked around your waist as he kissed the top of your forehead before his hand rested on your cheeks, his eyes fluttering shut.

He yawned and made himself comfortable before drifting off into his well deserved nap.

But..

"Oh my god, you are associated with Sigewinne in this??" He baffled at the sight of his face covered in stickers. Melusines loved to play pranks but his own lover? Now that was some serious betrayal.

"First my back and now my face?" He stared at you, jaw dropped, wanting an explanation. You simply stifled a laugh before hearing a click.

"Sigewinne, did you just take a picture of me?? HEY! Don't run away!? [Name]! Sigewinne! You guys better delete that picture!" He chased after you two as you ran with Sigewinne in your arms. It was a moment of solace and perhaps another moment added in your archive of memories.

a/n : to say i am obsessed with domesticated genres and tropes is an understatement.

don't steal, copy, plagarize.

©definitelysel

not proof read.

[bunnys-kisses]

dutchman's tongue

max versappen

cw: oral/fingering (femme receiving), afab!reader, loosely translated dutch and french (it's been a while since i spoke it), doggy style, unprotected sex,

bunny says: congrats on the win last week max! it's good to make use of my ability to speak/write in dutch and french (although a lil rusty!)

max had a way with his tongue. growing up in belguim there are three official languages but the two being french and dutch. you found his linguistic talents very interesting.

a lot of the time it was quite comically, he'll know the word in english, but somewhere along the way of thinking it, it'll get translated into one of the other languages we spoke.

"that thing." he snapped his fingers. he squeezed his eye shut to think of the word, "come on."

you looked at him, not even know what he was thinking.

"chou-fleur."

"cauliflower?" you replied.

he nodded, "yes!" he smiled at you. you had picked up a rough estimate of the other languages he spoke. while your conversations were mostly in english, you tried to impress him with your own linguistic abilities.

he smiled and kiss the top of your head, "good job, schatje! i am so proud of you." then took you by the cheeks to kiss them.

but also max was good at other things with his tongue. you found out early on in your relationship that he quite enjoyed going down on you. he loved your thighs around his head as he lapped and finger-fucked your pussy.

it was the morning after the canadian grand prix. it was cloudy and cool out, the window to your hotel room was open. you laid in a mess of pillows and blankets with your lover. you were laid next to him.

last night was fun, montreal was the city to be if you wanted to party. but the morning after you felt tired all over. max's nose was in your hair and basically snoring in your ear. you rolled over and got closer to his side.

you yawned and lifted your head to gaze down at him. you reached out and cupped the side of his face with affection. he was the winner after all, it was no strong feat given how the weather was.

"good morning." you said as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. his soft skin against your lips made your heart leap.

his eyes open slowly, his tongue was loose when he said, "goedemorgen, mijn schat." his hand reached for you and patted the side of your face. he looked more tired than you did.

"i guess we had some fun last night."

he nodded and yawned, "we did."

you kissed the side of his face and got up out of bed. the exhaustion hung heavy on your shoulders as you got up. but you weren't up for long as max took you by the wrist and brought you back into bed.

"max!" you yelped but were soon met by cuddles from your boyfriend. his arms wrapped around you middle and his nose dipped into your neck.

"où penses-tu aller?" his asked slowly, his hands started to touched your nude body, "j'espère que tu n'essayes pas de t'enfuir, mon amour?"

you looked behind you to glance at him, "are you trying to seduce me?"

"i am simply asking where you are going, my love. i am hoping you aren't running away from me." he rested his chin on your shoulder, "we have the whole day to ourselves."

"no we don't, you have to do interviews." you recalled.

he groaned, "and i can't stay all day in bed with you."

"nursing a hangover."

"no, no." he kissed your cheek, "to be so close to you." his cock pressed against your back, "you looked amazing last night, all dolled up for me. you were beautiful, mon amour."

you reached over, with max still clinging to you, and looked at your phone, it was still early enough. you put the phone down and turned in his arms so you were facing one another. you placed both hands on his bared chest and leaned in for a kiss.

"we have two hours before you have to get ready. i can get you something for your head... or i can give you head?"

he grinned at you, those blue eyes looked into yours. he replied, "actually, i was thinking i could... go down on you inside." he winked.

"max."

"i got all the celebration i wanted last night. i want to give you something in return. for being there, always." he let go of you and with your help got between your legs with your thighs around his head.

he rested his chin on your stomach and gazed at you. you tried not to feel self conscious about the angle of your face. but he continued to gaze at you like he had hearts in his eyes.

"i probably have the worst double-chin right now."

he shook his head, "who cares, you're still the most beautiful woman in the world." he rubbed his face against your abdomen like he was trying to his scent all over you. sometimes he'd do this thing where he'd ramble in dutch or french, he knew you weren't exactly catching what he was saying.

he started to speak about something in french as he got between your legs, your thighs now on his shoulders. the softness of them were against his ears as he leaned in to your cunt.

"et puis je t'ai vu dans les tribunes, les cheveux au vent. et je savais que je devais gagner. ce serait la seule façon de te rendre fier, mon amour. je te vois et je perds toute notion du temps. rien d'autre ne compte sauf te voir." he rambled before he lined his tongue up with your slit, he gave you one last look as he said, "je vous aime." then gave your pussy as sweet kiss before he started to lap at your sex.

you felt heat in your cheeks as he held your thighs on his shoulders. his tongue continued to pleasure you as you squirmed on the bed. he was keeping you pinned to him.

"ah, ah, ah." he said, "stay still." then continued his movements against your cunt. you could feel the burn in your cheek the more pleasure raced up your spine.

your breathing started to get heavier. pleasure coursed through your body the more than he pleasured you orally. you could admit easily that he was rather impressive when it went to going down on you.

you knew he was still running on the high of the race, his own head was racing as your thighs clenched around his head. you gripped onto his dark hair and moaned loudly.

"tu aimes ça, mon amour ? est-ce que tu aimes la façon dont je te fais plaisir?" his own cheeks were stained pink as your wetness clung to his chin.

"oh my god." you groaned, "why does it sound so fucking hot."

he kissed your inner thigh and looked up at you, "because you know how good i am with my tongue." then dragged his tongue across your inner thigh that made your toes curl.

he kept one hand on your left thigh and the other hand between your legs. he began his motions once more but this time adding his fingers. he sank them easily into your hole as he played with your clit against his tongue. occasionally his front teeth grazed against it and you moaned louder.

the rush of pleasure continued to course through your body, the more he played with you. he occasionally looked up at you to get a good look at the expressions you were making.

he gripped your thigh with love as he felt your cunt clench around his fingers inside of you.

"please, max!" you whimpered as you pressed your thighs closely around his head. you panted and moaned, the pleasure was overwhelming.

and he kept pleasuring you, he kept at it. with an endurance and focus that let him with the race the day prior. his cock throbbed between his legs, pressed against the bed as he focused on your pleasure.

"max, fuck."

"blijf stil, mijn liefste." he said softly, switching up the languages to see how you'd react.

it didn't take long before pleasure washed over you. your body clenched as the rust hit your brain and pooled in your stomach. with tugged on your hair and kicked out your legs before you felt the hit of it all.

you laid there on the bed and he pulled his head from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. those blue eyes gazed at you with such affection.

he got out from between your legs, "not it's time for my turn, mijn liefje." he rested on his heels and looked down at you, his cock stood at full attention.

you looked at him, with lust in your gaze. you let your lover turn you onto your hands and knees. your face was buried in the pillow with your ass in the air.

"my love." he said with a heat in his voice. your cunt was on full display to him. the rush of blood to his cheeks was noticeable as he got behind you. he stroked his cock a few times to the sight of your slick pussy.

"please, max." your blood was rushing which was only making your hangover more prominent.

"i have you, my love." he said as he slowly sank his cock into your pussy. he soon took hold of your hips and nudged his cock up against the back of your cunt. right up against your cervix.

"shit." you groan.

the angle of his cock inside of you felt amazing. you clawed at the covers and arched your back. you panted into the pillows.

"you like that, don't you? you love that, my love?" he groaned, his tongue was loose in his mouth, "Ik denk de hele tijd aan je op de baan. Ik had een droom toen je rok omhoog vloog toen ik voorbijreed." he chuckled.

you whined, "c'mon max."

he took you by the hair and yanked your head a little back as he closed the gap between you two, "i said. i had a dream that i drove by during the race and your skirt flew up. and they all got a good look at those sweet panties you wore." he chuckled a little more as he kissed your face. he could feel the heat in your cheeks.

his thrusts were fast and aggressive, the pleasure bloomed in his chest as he moved. he watched you grip at the covers with your back arched.

"shit."

"fuck."

"i know, my love." he said between pants.

your brain felt like mush from back to back pleasure. you panted wildly into the pillows. your back arched further as max pressed further into you. he bent you into angles that were uncomfortable butt he pleasure that raced through you cancelled out the feeling.

"please, max."

"ik heb je." he said with a reassuring voice the more he fucked you. your ass jiggled from the force of his thrusts. he felt the sweat drip down his neck and down his bare back as he fucked into your.

"i love you." you murmured into the covers.

"i love you too." he said with such softness in his voice as if he wasn't balls deep inside of you. he loved you so much, he loved how you felt against him. you felt like a dream.

"please, max." you moaned as you tried to cover your mouth with your hand so you wouldn't disturb the neighbours next door.

"i want to hear you, my love." he said softly, his voice still in your ear, "i want to hear it all."

"but next door." you said.

"doesn't matter. i won the race. i can fuck my girl whoever i want." he purred as his pace became erratic, your eyes felt like they were going to roll back into your head as you moaned into the pillows. he said, "I want them all to hear you."

oh max, ever the romantic.

you whimpered into the pillows as you felt the pleasure come to a head of the second orgasm of the morning. you didn't have an awful lot of time left before he had to get ready. but by the stagger of his thrusts, you knew he was close as well.

"that's my girl." he said.

"please, max."

"mijn liefje." he said with a bit of tension in his voice as the warmth of sex clogged his head.

the angle made it feel like he was in your stomach which caused you to choke out moans.

the bed hit against the wall as he moved against you. with a few more hard thrusts, you both came at the same time. his groan was low and heavy while your moan was high pitched and had to be covered up by the pillow.

he loved when he finished inside of you, it made his heartbeat quicken. that he marked you inside and out. he slowed down and rested back on his heels as he cock slipped out of your used hole.

he pushed hair out of his face and panted heavily. you felt like heaven. you soon laid next to one another, he pulled you into his sweaty arms.

"mijn liefste, ik hou zoveel van je. jij geeft mij het gevoel dat ik een winnaar ben." he kissed the top of your head as you laid there together.

you got comfortable in his arms and smiled against him. the rush of climax was still in your head as you clung to him.

you said to him, in the bit of dutch you knew, "Ik hou ook van jou, max."

he chuckled and kissed you once more. <3

[aviiarie]

Hi avieee! I am making a request this time. So uhm I really really like your that lost & found platonic arle x reader. So I am wondering if you can do a part 2 of that? Like what happens after reader is rescued? The Fontaine trio reactions? Does Arle go into overprotective mama bear mode?

😶‍🌫️

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ AFTERWORD. platonic fonatine siblings, arlecchino & reader !

synopsis. (sequel to lost & found. read that one first.) [name] is reunited with their siblings. contents. PLATONIC. aftermath of kidnapping. gn!reader. they/them pronouns used. fluff. 1k words. notes. i wanted to make this a sort of epilogue, so apologies if it is a little short!

“[Name]!”

Their eyes opened with a flutter, still in a haze halfway between sleep and consciousness. The call of their name was their only warning before they were tackled in their hospital bed by a blur of black and red, crying out in alarm at the sudden weight falling on top of them. In their daze, it took a moment for them to realize who it was.

“L-Lyn—Lyney?” they managed to stammer out, wheezing as he squeezed them in a much too tight hug.

“[Name]! You’re back!” Lyney clasped their face in his hands and peppered kisses to the top of their head, like an overly affectionate grandmother who hasn’t seen their dearest grandchild in years. They shoved at him weakly, rolling their eyes at his over-the-top show of affection. He wasn’t fazed, laughing hoarsely through his tears. “You’re alive. Gods, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Don’t be a pest, Lyney,” Lynette scolded as she entered the room as well, but she was barely looking at him. Her focus was set squarely on them, tears brimming in her eyes. “[Name]. I am… very relieved you are back.”

“I’m never letting you leave my sight again,” Lyney whispered, pressing his forehead to theirs. There was a shakiness behind his melodramatic display, a fragility behind his theatrics. The experience seemed to have shaken him far more than he was willing to admit. He moved off them, giving them room to breathe as Lynette hurried over to their beside.

“Never,” Lynette promised, settling on their other side. She leaned down to bump her head against the top of theirs, curling her tail around their leg.

“Is there… room in there for me…?” a quiet voice sounded from the doorway. They all looked up, as Freminet nervously knocked on the already opened door.

“Of course, come here!” Lyney stood abruptly, stepping back to make room for Freminet to squeeze in. He slipped into the space between them and Lyney, turning the four of them into something that was partially an awkward huddle, and partially a group hug. Lynette was still on their left, shoulders brushing. Freminet had circled their waist in a clumsy hug with his cheek pressed against their shoulder. And Lyney settled himself on the edge of the bed, draping an arm over the bed board.

“I really don’t think there’s enough room for all of us—” They tried, but Lyney shushed them.

“There’s room enough,” He said, patting their cheek. “And don’t think for a minute you’re getting rid of us so quickly after what happened.”

The siblings all seemed to stiffen up at his mention of the ordeal, himself included. For Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet, it was sharp and clear in their memories, along with the lingering feeling of dread that came with losing one of their own for so long.

But for them, the entire experience was a haze. There was a distant pain throbbing in the back of their head, the phantom feeling of someone hitting them with something hard. Beyond that was a blur between being dumped on the cold, hard floor, and feeling warm hands pull them into a familiar set of arms.

“…Good.” They said quietly, resting their chin atop Freminet’s head. “I don’t want any of you to leave, just yet.”

-----

Arlecchino’s heels clicked loudly, sounding an alarm to all of the children loitering in the halls. After years in her care, they had learned to predict her mood from just the sound of her shoes, and the hurried clacks echoing off the walls told them clear as day that she was not in the mood for anything to interrupt her.

She brushed past the eyes that peeked out from the doorways, vanishing as soon as she grew close. She didn’t care to scold them for being nosy; they didn’t matter to her. There was only one person who mattered in that moment.

When she opened the door, Lyney was the only one that looked to be awake. The other two were curled around [Name], all three fast asleep in a pile of limbs and blankets. Lynette was lying on top of the blankets, one arm thrown over the other two siblings, while Freminet was clinging to [Name]’s waist so tightly that it was a wonder they were still breathing.

They looked like a pile of kittens taking a mid-morning nap together. The sight was endearing enough for the corner of her lips to twitch, almost forming a smile.

Lyney had settled himself in the chair beside them, resting his feet on the edge of the bed. His arm was stretched out to carefully run his hand through their hair, in the same gentle routine he used to help his sister fall asleep when they were young. The sound of the door opening made him look up, and he greeted her with a nod.

“They’re alright?” Arlecchino asked quietly.

“They’re alright.” Lyney answered with a tired smile, pulling his hand back to rest on his lap.

“Good.” She swept into the room, standing over their sleeping form. The blankets hid the majority of their injuries, but there was a flash of white bandages peeking out from where their skin was exposed.

Arlecchino brushed her thumb across their forehead. She knew they most likely were too deeply asleep to hear her, but it didn’t stop her from murmuring, “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you.”

The words made them stir slightly. It was slow at first, a small furrow in their brow and a twitch of their lips, but it was soon followed by a murmur. Their eyes opened a crack, meeting hers.

“Father…?” They mumbled lowly.

“Shh…” Arlecchino hushed them with a whisper, still tracing her thumb across their face. The slow, soothing motion had its desired effect; their eyes were already sliding shut. “Quiet, get some rest. You’re safe now. They won’t ever hurt you again.”

She leaned down and kissed their head, leaving her lips hovering above their skin for a moment to whisper, “Never again.”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[p0orbaby]

Sitting on Leah’s lap as there ain’t no room anywhere else homerotic freindship

-

The cinema room crackled with the usual energy of a team movie night. Seats were scarce, with every inch of the couches and floor occupied by your teammates. As you stand in the doorway, searching for a spot, Leah catches your eye from her place on the sofa. She stretches out lazily, making a dramatic show of how comfortable she is.

“Out of luck, huh?” she calls out, a playful smirk on her face.

You grin, shrugging. “Seems like it. Got any bright ideas?”

Leah pats her lap, her eyes twinkling in the dark. “Always. Come here, there’s room for you”

Without hesitation, you walk over, weaving through the maze of limbs and blankets. You plop down on Leah’s lap, settling in with ease as her arms wrap around you instinctively.

“Hope you’re comfy, because I’m not moving,” you say, glancing back at her with a teasing smile.

Leah chuckles, her hands resting on your hips. “Comfiest seat in the house. Plus, I’ve got the best view now”

You roll your eyes, nudging her playfully with your elbow. “Just don’t let me catch you snoozing mid-movie”

The film starts, and you lean back against her, feeling her warmth seep into you. It’s natural, the way her fingers trace lazy patterns on your arm, the way you shift slightly to fit more snugly against her. You’ve been close for as long as you can remember, and physical boundaries have long since faded away.

“Enjoying yourself?” you asked, your voice soft enough that only she can hear.

She grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Always do when you’re around”

The comment is simple, but it carries weight. You both know it, even if your teammates don’t. They are used to your touchy-feely interactions, often brushing them off as the closeness of best friends. But there’s an unspoken understanding between you and Leah, a deeper connection that doesn’t need to be broadcasted.

As the movie progresses, you feel Leah move slightly, adjusting her hold on you. Her chin comes to rest on your shoulder, and she whispers, “You smell nice tonight”

You snort, turning your head so your noses almost touch. “You say that every time”

“Maybe you always smell nice,” she replied, her voice low and warm. “Good enough to eat”

[thegnomelord]

You ever hear the gross stories about people putting peanut butter on their junk and having a dog lick it off? This sounds bad but stay with me here, imagine it's marakov doing this with hound. Like it's a humiliation thing to break hound down or something and drive it into his head that he's no better than an actual dog. Marakov starving hound for awhile so he's famished and then pulling the peanut butter out. If hound wants to eat then the only food he can have will be the peanut butter he'll have to lick off marakovs cock.

Oh fuck that is disgusting and SOOO something Makarov would do. So here's a lil ficlet cause you got my brain going Brrrr

CW:NSFW, MDNI, Makarov x male reader, blowjob, peanutbutter food sex, toxic relationship, dom/sub dub-con, rough and quick, I дворняга - mongrel, mutt есть - eat, нет - no.

Rough fingers grip your jaw until it hurts, Makarov's thumb pressing down on your tongue to keep it flush with the bottom of your mouth. Drool and a bit of blood run down your chin, a small puddle already forming between your folded knees. The fingers on of his other hand wiggle your canine, uncaring of how your jaw trembles in an attempt not to bite him.

"Poor дворняга," Makarov chuckles, "Not liking your new teeth?"

Your 'new' teeth hurt like hell and that's saying something, gums around them still raw and irritated, knives stabbing at your entire jaw and down your throat whenever he wiggles the tooth even slightly. But you can't show that, don't bite the hand that feeds. So you swallow the sound of pain bubbling in your chest and shake your head as much as he allows you to do so.

You can see his smirk past the tears blurring your vision. "Good dog." He chuckles, pulling his fingers from your mouth to pat your head. "You must be hungry."

You are. Starving. You can't remember the last time you've been fed, probably before Makarov had your canines ripped from your mouth and replaced with metal, but the constant pain buzzing in your body makes it hard to keep track as the days blur together. You wordlessly nod your head, knowing better than to speak when he hasn't given you permission yet (you doubt you even could with how much your jaw hurts.)

Makarov leans back on your bunk, letting go of your jaw to fiddle with the jar of peanut butter. Unscrewing the lid he dips his pointer finder in and scoops up a big dollop of it. He holds it out for you, resting the back of his finger on your tongue. "Есть." He orders, tone leaving no room for arguing and you're quick to close your lips around his finger, tongue moving to lick it clean and trying to avoid nudging your teeth.

You've always hated the stuff since Price got you to try some when you were in America, the taste and texture making your skin crawl, but right now it may as well be ichor of the gods. Your stomach rumbles at finally being able to devour something, even if it's just a small scoop of peanut butter.

You open your mouth when you're done, spit clinging to Makarov's finger, and try your best to make a small whine. "Good, finally learning." He hums and sets the jaw down, unbuckling his belt.

Your heart stutters and drops to your stomach as you watch Makarov fish his half hard cock from his boxers, only needing a few strokes to get him fully erect. Makarov laughs at the face you make when he scoops up a good amount of the peanut butter and uses it like lube on his cock.

"Oh, did you think you would just get to eat?" He snorts, holding the base of his cock, "Нет, нет, нет you dumb mutt." He spreads his legs wider, patting his thigh. "You'll have to work for it, now есть."

You hesitate, some meager part of your pride absolutely unwilling, your stomach telling you to forget about that. Makarov waits, judgmental eyes locked on you, easily able to see the turmoil swirling in your eyes. He knows how to be patient, while he usually wouldn't tolerate disobedience, he knows he can't set up a hunting dog for failure and expect success so soon into your training.

His efforts bear fruit and you slowly shuffle forward on your knees. Even starved as you are, the wide span of your shoulders still forces his legs to spread wider. You hesitate some more, looking past his cock up at him, wondering if he really wants you to do this; is this a reward or just another way to tear you down?

"Do not make me repeat myself." He says, voice even and cool, but you're still perceptive enough to notice the sharp edge of danger in his tone, like a knife pressed into your throat.

Tentatively you lean in, fists clenching against your thighs as your tongue lolls out to hesitantly lick at his shaft. He doesn't rush you, doesn't degrade you, but his hand does settle on the back of your skull. You freeze, but he only hums, "Good dog." His hips twitch until his shaft bumps against your nose.

The hand on your head keeps you from pulling away, and your hunger soon wins out so you give a few experimental kitten licks. You start at the bottom, still uneasy about this, your tongue licking across his knuckles. Makarov purrs something in Russian you're not familiar with, his tone not sweet enough to make you think it's an insult, so you slowly continue up his shaft.

His precum mixes with the peanut butter, giving it a saltier tang that makes disgust curl in your stomach, humiliation making your face burn. Even your mind mocks you; Price's voice echoes somewhere in your ears "This is why we left you, you were just waiting for a chance to be a terrorist's whore." but that voice slowly gets quieter as Makarov's hand pets your head, making thinking about anything but the creamy peanut butter on your tongue difficult.

"Good dog, doing so well for me." Makarov hums, a pleased sound escaping his chest. The pleasure your mouth brings is miniscule compared to the sight of you - on your knees, eyes slowly closing as your malleable mind settles into static, drool smeared lips wrapping around his head to suck all the food your tongue missed - oh it's something else. He's seen many powerful men brought down to their knees, but nothing has ever made him harder than you right now.

You pop off his cockhead, chest frantically moving to draw breath, unfocused eyes staring at his drooling head before you look up. "Now wasn't that a good treat?" He asks, receiving your mumble in return, using your spaced out mind to smear more peanut butter on his head. "But you missed a spot. Go on, есть."

[wileys-russo]

frido "stop picking me up when you don't get your way" tall frido supremacy 😌

drowned rat II f.rolfö

you exhaled happily at the way your skin felt like it was near glowing, bathed in the radiantly warm glow of the mallorca sun. you could practically feel every little thought from your head draining like water from a tub the longer you lay there.

a tiny voice in the back of your head told you to flip over, or maybe apply a new layer of sunscreen, but they were drowned out by the much louder more dominant voice reminding you were just so comfortable.

"you will burn if you lay here much longer." you were pulled from your semi drowzy state by a new voice of reason, one which no matter what you simply couldn't ignore as you turned your head to the side and cracked open an eye.

"they call it sun baking, not sun burning." you mumbled with a lazy smile, the blonde laid down beside you chuckling but still her gaze bore into you knowingly.

"can you do my back for me?" you sighed giving in, laughing as within seconds the swede was up and on her feet, rifling through the tote bag you'd brought for the little blue bottle.

"oh please do get comfortable." you teased feeling her sit down on the back of your thighs, words muffled as you rested your chin on your forearms. "fridolina!" you hissed a little louder as her hand smacked then massaged your bikini covered ass.

"what? we don't want this burnt do we älskade?" your girlfriend tutted, though quickly moving her strong hands to massage the sunscreen into your upper back instead as you hummed skeptically.

"you are going to get us kicked off the beach again." you warned with a roll of your eyes, sneakily taking her sunglasses which sat abandoned on her towel next to yours and slipping them on.

"that was one time and it was a harmless accident." the older girl grumbled and you smiled imagining the embarrassed blush which would be coating her cheeks.

"mmm yes it is hilarious when your girlfriend unties your bikini top and exposes your breasts to several small children and you get a letter in the mail from council fining you for public indecency." you grumbled at the memory.

"that better be a cough and not a laugh rolfö!" you warned sharply hearing her snicker, turning your head to glare up at her, eyes shielded by the sunglasses covering your face.

"i said i was very very sorry." the blonde leaned down to tenderly kiss your shoulder blade as you scoffed, her large hands still softly massaging the cream into your sun kissed skin.

"no you did not. you paid the fine, laughed in my face and very proudly told everyone at training the next day!" you reminded hearing her snicker again, a couple of soft taps to the back of your neck indicating she was done.

"well then i am now saying i am very very sorry?" "mhm, sure darling." you hummed, reaching around to pat her side in thanks, knowing all too well she was not in fact sorry and you wouldn't put it past her to do it again.

"come for a swim? the water is gorgeous." you felt her get up off of you, her foot poking your side as you swatted it away with a shake of your head. "not yet, maybe later." you declined, far too happy in the sun, your girlfriend often teasing you were actually solar powered.

"you said that earlier! kom igen, en snabb simtur." she pleaded in swedish, normally something which was sure to break your resolve finding it incredibly attractive but today seemed to be the exception as you wordlessly shook your head and made no move to get up.

"later." you repeated, eyes closing and exhaling happily, assuming she would just take herself to cool off as she had done earlier. "now?" or, no such luck.

"i just said no!" "no, you said later. it is now later."

"why are you being so insistent? we're on holidays baby, just relax." you sighed, eyes closing again as silence fell though you could feel her shadow lingering over you.

"you are blocking my sun rolfö, that is a dangerous game." you warned, but before you could say another word you felt yourself being lifted into the air and scrambled to grab the loose ties of the back of your bikini, very much not eager for a repeat of last time but also quite keen to avoid tan lines where you could.

"fridolina put me down!" you demanded, hoisted up and over her shoulder like a sack of potatos, cheeks flushing red with colour as wary eyes watched you from strangers sat a few feet away on the sand.

"like you said hjärtat we are on holidays! it is so warm, i think you need to cool off." her tone was teasing and your pleas to be put down fell on deaf ears as she strode across the sand toward the ocean.

"okay okay you win! just put me down and let me adjust at my own speed, please?" you pleaded as she arrived at the waters edge, wading in until the water hit her upper thigh and you sighed in relief when she came to a stop.

"oh you want me to put you down?" you heard the grin in her voice even if you were facing the other way. "don't you dare!" your hand smacked against her toned bare back with a loud crack of warning knowing exactly what the taller girl was thinking.

"baby i am just doing what you tell me! so fussy." the blonde tutted in her accented english and you whined and huffed your annoyance with her as she waded in even deeper.

grabbing onto the waistband of her bikini bottoms you yanked them upwards in a final desperate attempt to stop her, however it would seem that worked even more against you as with a yelp of surprise sounding from the blonde your body was plunged into the freezing depths.

your feet pushed up against the sandy bank and you surfaced with a splutter, your hair covering your face as you gasped trying to catch your breath which had been snatched from you with the sudden temperature change, never having been one for the cold unlike your proud scandi girlfriend.

"a wedgie? you give me a wedgie?" the blonde in question laughed, pushing a small wave of water in your direction as half of it filled your mouth and you choked, spitting it out and glaring at her as best you could through the hair which covered your face.

"so immature raring, really." frido sighed sarcastically with a shake of her head as you scoffed, launching yourself at her and dunking her head back under the water managing to catch her off guard.

"immature? i am the immature one?" you grunted, trying to dunk her again but squealing as she stood up to her full height, body wet and slippery as you tried to cling on but she threw you back into the water without any sort of struggle.

"stop picking me up when you don't get your way!" you warned, flicking your head back as your hair finally flew out of your face and you exhaled, body slowly adjusting to the oceans low temperature and admittedly now it was quite pleasant once you had.

"aw but you are so small baby, like a cute little mouse." the blonde swam closer and cooed teasingly, earning herself a glare as her hands found the back of your thighs, settling herself in the water and pulling your legs to wrap around her waist.

"eller en dränkt råtta." the defender grinned, walking out a little deeper still holding onto you as you pushed your hair to the side of your head and narrowed your eyes.

"a drowned rat she says!" you scoffed smacking her shoulder playfully as she let out a loud pelt of laughter, looking at you with a cheeky grin you couldn't help but melt at.

"oh your swedish is getting very good." "we have been together for nearly three years! rövhål."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hey, I dont know if you are currently acepting asks but... Please can you write something with Clockwork/Alfred? I'll give you a cookie?

I really love how you write and i cant find fics with this ship

Danny gets a cryptic message from Clockwork the night that he, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are supposed to go on a three-week College tour road trip.

A trip that they were going to use to decide where the three graduating students planned on going to college. Jazz was coming along to ease their parents' worry, mainly as a voice of reason. She had taken time off of work and classes just to make this happen.

It had taken months to plan.

So cryptic messages put a damper on the mood. Granted, all notifications from Clockwork were cryptic, but that didn't make this any less stressful.

He had just sat by his bed, leaning his back onto his lower bed frame and mattress, when he noticed the glowing sticker note on the carpeted floor.

"What does it say?" Sam sighs, closing her suitcase. She was kneeling a few feet away from him, double-checking their luggage. "A warning about the trip? Insight of an upcoming trial? Oh, let me guess, one of us is pregnant?."

"It's me, isn't it?" Tuck asks from where he's lying on Danny's bed. He places a hand under his chin with a sigh. "I've noticed a glow in my reflection lately. Danny, you're the Father."

"Shut it, Tuck." Danny laughs, turning the glowing sticky note over. "It just has an address, a date, and a time. Nothing else. I think he wants us to go there when the day comes."

Jazz walks in carrying a tray. She insisted they all take some bedtime tea to help them get enough rest for the drive. She recently started making her own blends after much research and experimenting. Danny loves it and always begs for a jar of her tea whenever he visits her. "What's going on?"

"We have to add a stop to the road plan," Sam sighs. She takes the black mug covered in white laughing sculls, nodding in gratitude to the redhead. "In one week, we have to go to Gotham."

"That's doable. We'll be going through Bludhaven by then. We would use the following two days to go sightseeing a few cities over, but we can sacrifice one of them to head to Gotham instead." Jazz hums, mentally going over their planned-out map that she likely memorized.

Danny groans, carefully resting the black mug with white constellations on the floor beside him. "I really wanted to see the hot springs resort, though."

"Member next time, Danny." Tuck pats his head while his own black mug- this one with little game controllers- is held carefully in his other hand. "After the baby is born, we'll go again."

"Why are you stuck on the whole baby thing?"

"Danny, that's no way to speak to the father of your children, especially while he's carrying," Sam chided from her corner. "The stress is bad for the baby."

"Please stop."

"But Danny," Jazz cuts in, sitting across from him. She crosses her legs underneath her, and her black mug with white books completes the set. "You should be supportive of Tucker in this very delicate time."

"I'm going to Go Ghost and never come back."

"I knew you be a deadbeat dad," Tucker tsks.

The four burst into impish laughter; the ease of the teasing joke and the calming tea rekindled the mood of excitement, even with Clockwork's glowing sticky note being shoved into their luggage to be revisited in a week.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure this is the place?" Danny asks again, leaning forward to where Tucker is driving.

Jaz looks around in fascination at the large houses and spacious yards they pass while Sam sleeps beside Danny in the backseat. She just finished her turn driving for seven hours and wanted to catch up on sleep.

Personally, Danny thinks she shouldn't volunteer for the first shift- they set out at four in the morning to keep to their road plan- but he knows no one else would do it if Sam didn't.

Neither Fenton works well before nine a.m., while Tucker needs help seeing in the dark, so he always gets the day shift.

Tucker's grip on the steering wheel tightens as he grits through his teeth. "For the sixth time, Danny, this is where the GPS said to go. I am literally staring at the icon move on the map as I drive."

"It's just....look at this place! It's rich people. I think they call the cops on us for driving through here." Danny defends, knowing his consent doubts driving his bed friend up a wall but unable to stop fretting.

"I don't think they call the cops....but I think we should move as quickly as possible." Jazz advised as the houses started to grow in both size and property amount. "We're almost there."

"Why would Clockwork want us to come here?" Tucker hissed as their old beat-up fan made a turn into a road that had the trees cut into arches above their heads. It was so obviously fancy that the three got highly uncomfortable. Even Sam's house wasn't so drenched in wealth, and this was just the front entrance.

"Maybe he wants us to investigate a haunted mansion." Danny offers, "Since we're in the area and all."

Danny leans back in his seat. He glances over at Sam; upon noticing the blanket she was using had slid down, he reaches over to tuck her in.

It's just as he sits back that his enhanced sight catches the faintest outline of a man in the trees, crouched down on a branch and watching them. Danny's heart spams, but he has no time to react further as the van moves on and the man's figure disappears in the floral.

"Holy shit!" Danny swears loudly, causing Tucker to jump and tilt the van.

"Dude!" Tucker hisses, "Don't do that! You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry, sorry." Danny places a hand over his heart, trying to calm the rapid beating. "I think I just saw a demon. Pretty sure that's what Clockwork wanted us to investigate."

"A demon?" Jazz whimpers, eyes flickering all over the trees with unease. "Are you sure it was a demon?"

"It looked liked like a one," Danny responds. "I highly doubt some guy will just go around dressed like a bat for fun."

" Great. Just great. A demon, that's going to be so much fun to deal with," Tucker complains, pressing on the gas more. They don't call him out as the feeling of being watched becomes suffocating.

The sooner they're out of the open, the better.

The end of the driveway opens up to a grand manor that would have made any noble Lord green with envy. Tucker drives around the giant fountain, pulling up to the park in front of the stairway of the main entry.

He squints out the front window as he loops before gasping. "Is that Clockwork?"

The Fenton Siblings each press their noses to the glass of their windows when they come to a complete stop. Both gasped at the exact same time and in the same volume at the man who was casually waiting for them at the door.

It's obviously Clockwork, but he's not in the form they are used to. Not the flouting child, not the sticking middle-aged man, or the aged old entity. No, the form Clockwork uses is a man in his early fifties, with the grace of a sliver fox and, oh, not a ghost.

"Hello, children," Clockwork says, walking down the stairs to meet them. The three are staring at him with slack jaws, half out of their vehicle but lingering in their doors just in case.

Sam snores.

"I'm ever so glad you have come." Clockwork continues, his green eyes flickering with mirth. A smile pulls at his lips, causing laughing lines to appear around his eyes, and it complements his warm bridge skin. He is not blue. "Not a moment too late. Punctual as ever, Jasmine."

"I- ugh, thank you, sir." Jazz shutters before getting her wits about her. "Why did you call us?"

"I will be delaying your trip for the next week." Clockwork lifts up a hand as if to stop any complaints this announcement may cause, which isn't really necessary, seeing as none of them can find the strength to speak. "I will, of course, make it possible to make up the time lost. I just need you four to act as my children for the next week."

"Why?" Tucker's voice is barely above a whisper.

"I can only keep this form for seven days, as I am not a halfa, but in that time, I hope to woo a man. He is a family man through and through, so if I can show him that I am more than capable of caring for a large family, it will help me in the long run." Clockwork then shrugs. "Plus, I need an anchor, and what better than four virgins?"

"Hey!" Danny shouts offended.

Clockwork raises a brow. "Am I wrong, Daniel?"

"No, but you didn't have to expose me like that," Danny grumbles.

"Who are you trying to woo?" Jazz asks, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

Clockwork's cheeks gain a reddish hue, and the three eyes practically pop out of their socket. They never knew the time god could be so...human. It's jarring. "Alfred Pennyworth. The butler of Wayne Manor, four houses down from our manor."

"A butler?" Tucker repeats slowly, "You, the god of time and overseer of all that is, has been, and will be, want to seduce a butler?"

"Yes. He is the love of my core," Clockwork nods determinedly.

Well, who can argue with that?

"Alright." Danny agrees. "So what's our cover story?"

"Yes, my four children- all adopted- and I have recently decided to go learn about our family roots and visit our ancestral home. Only to remodel and check out the family records, we will be out by the end of the week to our next grand adventure. We are old money but one that faded from importance due to lack of contact with the rest of high society. To remedy this, I will be taking you to high-class events." Clockwork sighs dreamily. "We were invited by the Waynes to a gala tomorrow night as a welcome-back party. There, I will see Alfred."

"Alright. And the demon?"

"Demon?"

"A man in the driveway that looked like a bat." Danny helpfully says, even though his voice wavers slightly.

"Oh, you mean Bruce. Yes, that's Alfred's son. Don't worry; he can not cross our driveway. I put a spell that causes humans to forget why they were coming here if not invited by us. Also, he is not a demon. He is a human who dresses like a bat to fight crime. Bruce's children dress like birds to help him."

There is silence that sounds louder than it should as they all take in this information. Clockwork smiles at him, mischievous and graceful in equal parts as they try to make sense of the weird kid Alfred the Butler has.

"I'm going to need a lot of stress-reducing teas for this week." Jazz sighs.

"We can go buy some for you tonight," Clockwork promises, pulling out a black card and grinning with all his teeth. "We're old money now, darling."

"oh my god."

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