#(still a baby adult) but slightly OLDER baby adult

[toasty-owl-arts]

oh yea i turned 18 two weeks ago i can be silly on the internet

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

[bet-on-me-13]

Thats not Fair!?

So! Danny is a Member of the JLA. He is a Millenia Old Ghost who is stuck looking the same as the day he died, so he never aged over all those Centuries. While the JLA is slightly uncomfortable at him being on the Team, they know his circumstances and try to ignore his appearance. He can't control it, its not his Fault.

Or at least, that's what he tells them.

Danny is in fact, a 15 Yr Old Kid, who used his experience as a Time Traveler to trick the JLA into letting him join the Adult Team. He is actually doing a good job in tricking them!

Then, in a complete accident, he runs into Jazz while talking to a few fellow Leaguers.

She showers him in older sister love, hugging him and giving him Nuggies, and when a Leaguer asks how old she is she says "Oh I'm 17, 2 whole years older than this little scamp!"

So there goes that lie.

Fortunately, the League decides to let Danny stay on the Adult Team.

Unfortunately, Young Justice learned about his admittance to the Adult Team and kind of lost it.

"What?! Why is HE allowed on the Adult Team!? He's only been a Hero for a Year! We've all been Heroes for so much longer!?! And for that matter why is Shazam still on the Team!? Is that the new Rule? If you can trick us into letting you in the Team you can stay? Cause we can do that! We can sneak our way in too!"

Basically I want to imagine YJ's reaction to 2 Child Heroes on the Adult Team when they are stuck on the "Baby Team"

I think it would be funny.

[lanasblood]

HOW DO I MAKE YOU LOVE ME | neteyam x reader

pairing: neteyam x f!omatikaya!reader (no mentions of y/n)

summary: you remember all of your attempts to make Neteyam fall in love with you, using various methods, experiencing numerous failures, and you finally come to a conclusion or the five times you failed to win neteyam’s affection and the one time you succeed.

word count: 10k (!!! damn)

warnings: actually none but let’s say hurt/comfort, reader is a simp, 5+1 prompt, confessing, mutual pining, mention of blood, requited/unrequited love, !!adult neteyam!!, flashbacks to childhood and teenager years

note: inspired by the five love languages and the weeknd’s song mentioned in the title.

* gif‘s not mine.

The soft rustling of the teal leaves falling silently to the ground, as light as an ikran feather, is one of the most soothing sounds heard on the still night. The wind touches them gently, as if caressing them, before whirling them up again in a powerful gust, starting the cycle all over again. The moons stand high in the sky, and the stars sparkle like little gems that can beautify anything. The night is quiet, and the soft breeze seems to calm everything down and lull it into a deep sleep. The bright light of the bioluminescent plants lays gently on the moist meadows, illuminating the darkness. It is like a magical tale, perfect and without blemish. Yet, there is one who can't sleep in this harmonic time: you. With your arms and legs stretched out, you lie on your back, feeling like hours have passed since you started staring at the night sky without moving a muscle. You have even decided to sleep outside your hammock to hear and feel the sound of the wind, hoping to finally sink into the dreamland. But, as you know, this has done little to help. 

All because of him. You sigh in annoyance.

For as long as you can remember you've had this crush on the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan, you don't know when you developed it, let alone how it really started. You just know that it might have been cute at first – a nice girl from a small clan who has feelings for the older boy next door, but as time went by, it wasn't cute at all; on the contrary, it robs you of precious sleep and will most likely cause you to age prematurely. 

Despite not knowing how and when exactly this crush thing has started, you know that it has gotten worse the more time has passed, and the more time passes, the more failed attempts to get his attention you have behind you. However, there's one event you categorize as time zero - the starting point of your attempts - that you remember vividly: 

You were a mere child and couldn't take your eyes off Neteyam, who was only slightly older than you. Confidently clutching the stem of the rare flower you had been searching for days, you made your way through the lush forest, searching for Neteyam. As you thought about the plan you had concocted, your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You had heard from a reliable source that Neteyam was a lover of rare flora, and you hoped that this gift would make him see you in a different light. 

When you spotted him in the distance, his tall figure was moving gracefully through the trees. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, holding out the flower to him.

"Hey, Neteyam," you said, trying to sound casual. "I found this and I thought you might like it." 

Neteyam stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. You held out the flower a bit higher, hoping to see a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said simply, slowly taking the flower from your outstretched hand. Looking at the flower now in his hand, the corner of his lips turned upward, causing your heart to flutter.

You told him happily, "It's a very rare flower," beaming a bright smile at him. 

And the next thing you knew, you were holding your breath as he bent slightly forward to your height and patted your head in praise, "It seems you're already a careful gatherer, baby neighbor. Keep it up!"

You felt your heart sink faster than a prey could run when he turned and continued on his way, leaving you standing there alone in the forest. You had hoped that your gesture would be enough to make him see you in a different light, but it seemed that it had made no difference at all, or even worse for he had called you the worst possible nickname to exist in all na'vihood. 

As you made your way back to the village, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment and frustration settling in you, the deep frown on your face mirroring your inner world. You had tried so hard to get Neteyam to notice you, but it seemed that he was simply not interested.

How do I make you love me?

After a few cycles and many more failed attempts in between, you realized that your little crush was not so little after all. Especially after Neteyam passed his Iknimaya at such a young age, your admiration for him grew every day. The feeling was almost unbearable as you found yourself constantly near him but not receiving the acknowledgment you wished for.

That was until one day, you decided to change that because your hormonal teenager brain had this glorious idea to spend some alone time with Neteyam. You had observed that he enjoyed hunting during his free time when he wasn't bound by his duties as the Olo'eyktan's firstborn. This is why you eagerly joined him on his next hunt, determined to impress him with your own hunting and tracking skills. Looking back, you now realize that your confidence may have been misplaced for your skills were basically non-existent at that time, but back then you were convinced that you were able to hunt.

So, you followed Neteyam deep into the forest, crouching right beside him in the underbrush, watching the herd of talioang grazing in the distance. Their blue and orange skin glinted in the sunlight, and you could hear the low rumble of their voices as they communicated with each other. 

"Do you thi—" Neteyam's hand swiftly covered your mouth, halting your words before they escaped, his touch gentle yet firm. It was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. He motioned for you to be quiet and directed your attention towards the herd. As he removed his hand, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement in your blood. This was your chance to prove yourself.

Neteyam slowly and silently made his way towards the herd, you right on his track, moving from one piece of cover to another. Your eyes followed every movement of the muscles on his toned back, you felt your heart pounding in your chest, and your palms were slick with sweat. Even though you had never really hunted before, you were determined to succeed but Neteyam's captivating presence proved to be a distraction that made it difficult for you to concentrate on anything else. 

As you got closer to the herd, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Neteyam signaled for you to stop, and you froze, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He reached out and brushed a twig aside at your feet.

"Watch your steps," he whispered close to your ear, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart raced as you realized how close he was to you, and you wondered if he could hear it pounding in your chest. Longing to feel his lips against your skin, you couldn't help but turn your head slightly towards him, but you knew you couldn't let your desire distract you from the hunt.

"I do," you whispered back. Trying to calm your racing heart, you focused on the task at hand, scanning the ground for anything else that might make noise. But when you moved, you felt Neteyam's body shift slightly against yours, sending another jolt of electricity through you, and you wondered if he felt it too.

"No, you constantly step on something," he told you, still whispering, but voice stern. 

Feeling caught because there was a high possibility that he was right for you hadn't paid attention to your surroundings in the last couple of minutes, too busy doting on him, you couldn't find arguments to defend yourself, "I do not." 

Neteyam firmly pressed his finger on his own lips, signaling you to be quiet yet again. Your heart beat faster as you met his intense gaze, and you felt a rush of desire wash over you.

"Too much noise," he mouthed, his voice barely audible, and looked back at the herd. Following his gaze, you saw that the talioang had picked up on something, and they were starting to look nervous. You and Neteyam held your breaths, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

Suddenly, Neteyam gave the signal, and sprang into action. You just weren't really ready when he gave the signal, so with the first step you took, you stumbled on something growing on the ground and fell over with a short cry. Neteyam who had darted towards the nearest talioang, already drawing his bow and arrow, stopped right in his track when he heard you fall. You looked up at him when he quickly turned to you and then back at the herd but it was too late, the animals already reared up in surprise, and scattered in all directions. However, you were too shocked by your fatal mistake to pay them any attention. You were frozen in place, lying in the dirt, watching Neteyam looking back at you with a slightly agape mouth. The blood rushed to your head and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. 

You ruined it. 

Neteyam's disappointment was tangible. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew that he was angry. You would be, too. Struggling to express your remorse, the words got caught in your throat as you attempted to apologize. The weight of disappointment were heavy on your shoulders, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of letting him down.

After a long, awkward silence, Neteyam turned to you with a deep sigh. "You need to be more careful," he said, "When you're hunting, you have to be aware of everything around you. One mistake can ruin the whole hunt."

You nodded, feeling ashamed, you were sure your face was as purple as a yovo fruit. You had wanted to impress Neteyam, but instead you had embarrassed yourself in front of him, had blown any chance to show him that you were capable.

How do I make you fall for me?

Over time, you learned from your previous mistakes. Wanting to impress him proved to be harder than anticipated, but having a conversation with him was easier than expected. You needed to show him how much you appreciated him for who he was. As a result, you began to pay closer attention to the way he interacted with others, especially his younger brother Lo'ak, and you started to incorporate some of those phrases into your conversations with him.

One bright day, you nervously approached Neteyam, hoping to strike up a conversation with him using your newfound knowledge:

"Hey, Neteyam," you greeted tentatively, "Whatcha doin'?"

You left out the bro on purpose, fearing it would be overkill. Even so, the words coming out of your mouth sounded strange to you, and for him apparently too, as he rapidly looked up from his task upon hearing your voice, and his otherwise neutral face looked at you with a slightly frowned forehead and attentive eyes, studying you for a moment before he was quick to collect himself and greeted you with a slight smile.

"Not much. Tuk asked me to repair this old basket for her," he said, motioning with his hands on the basket between his legs, "And I'm trying." 

You nodded, trying not to seem too eager, "That's really kind of you. I bet she'll be thrilled once you finish it," you said with a smile. 

Neteyam simply hummed in response and went back to his task, his concentration returning.

"I mean, I would, too. Tuk is very lucky, it must be nice to have a brother like you," you complimented him.

"But you do have a brother," Neteyam reminded you matter-of-factly, "We used to attend the same training sessions so many times."

"Yeah," you continued, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "But, uh, he is not as skilled as you are." Good save. "And he never did such kind things for me when I was little. The only thing he did was teach me how to fight." 

"That's a valuable skill," Neteyam commented.

"Well, what I mean is, he's an ordinary brother, while you are one of a kind, Neteyam. Your siblings are incredibly lucky to have you," you said, emphasizing your point.

Neteyam smiled to himself, his canines slightly showing, as he went back to working on the basket. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the thought of him noticing your flattery.

"I appreciate that," he said, acknowledging your compliment.

After a few minutes of silence, you took a deep breath and you mustered up the courage to ask him a question, "May I say something?"

He looked up at you again and nodded. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You decided to take the chance, "I just wanted to say that you always seem to know just what to do and say, and that's very impressive. You're responsible, always respectful, and very patient. Not just with me but with everyone in our clan. And I want you to know that I really appreciate it, Neteyam." I appreciate you.

Neteyam's expression softened as he listened to your words. "You have a kind heart to express that," he replied, a hint of a smile still playing at the corner of his lips.

You took a deep breath and continued, "I know you don't share much about your personal life, but if you ever feel comfortable talking about it I would love to learn more about you."

Neteyam's smile reached his eyes. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind."

You felt a warm glow of happiness in your chest as you realized that your words affected him. You were willing to put in the work to get to know him better.

Encouraged by his response, you asked, "So, do you have any concrete plans after your Uniltaron?"

Neteyam's expression faltered a bit upon hearing you mention his upcoming Dream Hunt, he seemed almost reserved all of a sudden. "I do have a few, but they are personal," he replied, "I prefer to keep them to myself."

You felt a pang of disappointment. "Oh, I understand," you said, trying to hide your dejection, "I'm sorry. It was not my place to ask."

"You don't have to apologize," he responded, "But some things are best kept within the family."

"Yeah, I get it," you smiled weakly, feeling like you had hit a wall, "Thanks for talking with me, Neteyam."

He nodded and went back to his task, leaving you feeling deflated and uncertain about how to get closer to him.

How do I make you want me?

The previous attempts to win Neteyam's attention had proven unsuccessful: The gifts you gave him didn't have the desired effect, your attempts to impress him by spending time with him backfired (you want to forget that memory of the hunt so badly), and the conversations you had with him remained superficial, never delving deeper into meaningful topics. It was clear that you needed a new approach, a fresh idea to capture his interest which brought you back to point zero.

You walked through the forest, scanning the undergrowth for any signs of the flowers you had been studying for quite some time – the kind you gifted Neteyam when you were little. It turns out that the rare flower wasn't that rare after all, it only bloomed a short time a cycle, which is what made it so valuable. However, if they were dried and powdered, very useful medicines could be made. At some point you had started collecting this flower, as well as other herbs and plants for Tsahìk, and in return she had taught you how to make rich creams and pastes from them. And you could also consume this flower in meals if you let it cook over the fire for a long time. Pondering if it would evoke nostalgia within Neteyam, while you plucked them carefully from the ground, you wondered if he ever remembered the day you gave him that flower in the first place.

Gathering a variety of edible flowers, aromatic herbs, and other nourishing ingredients from the village, you spent all morning helping the women in your clan prepare a wholesome and delicious meal for the warriors. In anticipation of Neteyam's training session, you decided to take this thoughtful approach to show your support and care.

As the aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, you volunteered to bring the full basket of handmade food wraps and lovely cut fruits to the training area. 

The warriors were engrossed in their practice, their movements fluid and powerful. You scanned the crowd, searching for Neteyam among them.

Spotting him in the midst of the intense training session, his lean muscles glistening with sweat under the warm sun, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration. His movements were powerful and precise, each strike displaying his skill as a warrior. His strength and determination did something to you, feeling a magnetic pull towards him. 

Balancing the basket of food in your hands, you approached the outskirts of the training area, careful not to interrupt the warriors' focus. You set up a blanket and arranged the food on it attractively. Your intention was not only to impress Neteyam but to show your support for the entire group.

"I swear, Eywa send you here," you heard someone say next to you, a bit out of breath, while impatient hands reached into the basket and helped you place the food, "I'm starving!"

"Lo'ak, are you allowed to end your training like this?" You questioned, and turned your head in the direction of the warriors — the training was obviously still in full swing, but it was precisely then that you met Neteyam's gaze who was already looking over at you, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in his eyes. 

"Not really but it smells so good, I'm ready to be skinned for these delici— Oh, I'm taking this one, yeah?" He started unwrapping one of the food wraps and hastily bit into it. 

"Hey, wait for the others!" you admonished him, but his wrap was already half eaten.

"Mm, das bom!" you heard him smack loudly, "S'rusly, yur da best."

"I'm glad," you responded, suppressing a laugh. Lo'ak acted like he hadn't eaten in days. 

Noticing the spread of food, the warriors collectively ended the training session, and the men started approaching the nourishing dishes, including freshly grilled meats, vibrant vegetables, and flavorful herbs.

Sensing an opportunity, you went towards Neteyam, a food wrap in your hand, and a warm smile gracing your lips. "I thought I would spare you the long way, in case you're starving like your brother," you joked, gesturing with your head towards Lo'ak behind you, who was taking two more food wraps and calling dips on the rawp.

Neteyam's gaze shifted from the feast you had prepared to the food in his hands and then at you. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

"That's thoughtful of you," he replied, his voice carrying a subtle warmth, "It's been an intense training session, and this is a welcome surprise."

You stepped back, allowing him to enjoy the meal with his fellow warriors. Observing from a distance, you noticed the camaraderie and laughter that emerged as they gathered around the spread of food, indulging in the flavors that were carefully crafted.

Throughout the meal, you found yourself drawn to Neteyam's presence. The way he spoke with passion about his experiences, the way he listened attentively to others, and the way his eyes sparkled with a hidden depth — all of it only fueled your growing attraction.

As the training session continued, you lingered nearby, engaging in conversations with other warriors, offering encouragement and companionship. While your initial intention was to impress Neteyam, you found joy in connecting with the community as a whole, so much you almost didn't realize that the day's training had come to an end.

"Thank you for the meal and your company," Neteyam said softly as he walked next to you back to the village, carrying the basket for you with a genuine smile gracing his face. "It meant a lot to all of us."

Your cheeks warmed at his words, "I didn't do much, the others—"

"You are here, that alone is more than enough."

You nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over you. "I'm glad I could contribute," your voice was filled with sincerity, "Supporting you and the clan is important to me."

A surge of hope welled up inside you, but as the conversation continued, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Despite your efforts, the romantic tension you had hoped for seemed to elude you. The conversation remained pleasant yet distant, and it became clear that Neteyam saw you more as a friend than a potential partner. With a heavy heart, you realized that your attempt to catch his interest had once again fallen short.

And make it last eternally?

For quite some time now, you have firmly believed that you have left those days behind you, imprisoned in childhood memories, overlapped by numerous teenage embarrassments. After all, now you are an adult with serious duties and commitments to attend to, and there's neither time nor room for such childish infatuations. Crushing on the future Olo'eyktan. Please. Plus, once you found out how many other girls in your clan, both older and younger than you, adored him, you figured it is best to move on. You were frustrated at times, but you resolved to carry on, cherishing the friendship you shared with Neteyam while silently letting go of your unrequited feelings. At least, that's what you thought...

… until three eclipses ago.

Mere moments before the eclipse, the all-too-familiar soft light danced in the room,  casting a golden hue that revealed the tiniest pollen floating around inside Tsahìk's crowded tent. It had been a long time since so many people had been injured at once, yet no one was ready to explain or report what had happened.

As two new figures entered the tent, one of them supporting the other, you heard a familiar voice speaking calmly, "Focus on not getting blood all over grandmother's tent rather than worrying about my wounds."

"Nah, I'm just- Ouch! Careful, bro!"

"Sorry, brother, but you have to cooperate with me here," Neteyam uttered while carefully helping Lo'ak onto the mat made of woven grasses that Kiri had prepared for them with blankets. 

"I'm just saying—Ahh," Lo'ak hissed as Neteyam applied pressure to his open wound with his bare hands, while Kiri hastily tied together any available cloths for his wound care. "-it's not very mighty of you, you know."

"What is not very mighty of him?" Kiri wanted to know, now taking over and applying pressure to his wound as well to stop the bleeding. As you shifted to Kiri's side, you handed her more cloths that she could wrap around Lo'ak's leg.

"His wounds, of course," Lo'ak grinned when he saw you and gave his older brother another amused sideways glance, before continuing, "but I'm sure he will be in great hands now. Right, bro?"

Just a quick glance at Lo'ak was enough to see that he was far worse off than Neteyam. While his wounds did not appear to be life-threatening, he was bleeding profusely from his thigh.

Tsahìk had already rushed to the four of you, throwing a disapproving look at Lo'ak, "Oh, my boy, let me have a look." With her expertise, she quickly got the situation under control, ordering Kiri to get more cloths while you stood by her side to assist her.

"My child, attend to his wounds," Tsahìk instructed you, but to your surprise she nodded towards Neteyam instead of Lo'ak as she pushed a bowl of fresh water into your hands. "My granddaughter and I can handle this young clumsy man here." Her stern gaze was once again fixed on Lo'ak, who, in turn, only grinned at her.

"Grandmother," Neteyam began soothingly, ready to protest, "there is no need to—" but her piercing eyes silenced him, causing him to follow you wordlessly to the other side of the tent.

And that's how you found yourself sitting in front of Neteyam, tending to his wounds with the gentle touch of your hands, caring for each cut and bruise.

"You need to be more careful," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence as you wrung the cloth in the water that had already turned a muddy reddish color.

"I'm content with the present circumstances," he replied, his voice laced with a touch of amusement. You gave him a sarcastic look, which he reciprocated with a warm smile.

"Well, I suppose then you'll be content with this as well." Pressing the damp cloth into his hand, you stood up and leisurely made your way to Tsahìk's supplies to fetch some healing ointments, and you took your time doing so.

Upon your return, Neteyam watched you attentively, his eyes tracing your every movement, and you wondered if he had been watching you the whole time. There was a newfound curiosity in his gaze, a glimmer of something more. 

"My words came out wrong," he said when you sat back on the ground in front of him. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and unspoken emotions, a subtle tension hanging between you. "You're right, I should be more careful. I always strive to be. It's just that there's little one can do in the face of an ambush."

"An ambush?" you asked with big eyes, "Oh, Great Mother! That's what everyone's been trying to conceal. And I was wondering the whole time what could've possibly happened to cause so many injuries."

"They probably didn't want to cause an uproar." You listened to his words, sensing the weight they carried. The mention of an ambush brought back memories of past dangers and harrowing encounters. The gravity of their lives was never far from their thoughts, and you understood the weight that rested on Neteyam's shoulders.

"You don't always have to be the strong one, Neteyam," you said softly, voice carrying reassurance, when you continued cleaning the cut on his chest, noticing that he tried not to wince under your touch, "It's alright to lean on others, to let them care for you." 

A flicker of emotion danced across his face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he regained his composure. His hand reached out to touch yours resting on his chest above his heart, the contact gentle yet charged with unspoken emotions.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and in that moment it felt like the boundaries between healer and wounded blurred, "Thank you for being here, for tending to me." His eyes locked with yours, an unspoken promise passing between you, turning your cheeks in a light purply color.

"Now," you cleared your throat with the intention of changing the subject, fervently hoping that he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks, "here comes the actual healing part."

Gently, you dipped your fingers into the jar of ointment, scooping out a generous amount. With deliberate movements, you applied the soothing balm to his wounds, careful not to cause any further discomfort. The ointment glided smoothly, creating a soothing sensation that seemed to envelop him in a healing embrace.

"What I meant before is that I am glad that you are the one taking care of me," you smiled upon hearing those words, feeling his gaze on you as you concentrated on his upper body. A gentle warmth radiated from his wounds as your fingertips grazed his skin, mingling with the tender touch of your hands. The ointment possessed a subtle fragrance, hinting at the natural remedies it held within.

As you continued to apply the ointment, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his chest, exploring the intricate landscape of his injuries, a comfortable silence settled between you. The rhythm of your ministrations became a quiet conversation, a wordless understanding of care and compassion. With every gentle caress, a subtle shiver passed through him, a reaction that spoke of both vulnerability and an underlying trust in your touch. There was a closeness in this shared moment, a connection forged through the tender act of healing.

Neteyam's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes revealing a depth of gratitude and something more profound. It was as if the vulnerability of his wounds had peeled away a layer, exposing a vulnerability of the heart. The strength he embodied as a warrior was softened in this vulnerable space, allowing a snippet into the depths of his mind and soul.

"It never stings when you patch me up, why?" Neteyam asked, his voice laced with wonder, tilting his head slightly.

"The secret is to mix yalnabark with 'omsyul," you replied, your voice gentle yet filled with a hint of playfulness.

"Care to share this secret with my grandmother? And Kiri, too?" Neteyam's request was teasing but also genuine, and you couldn't help but be touched by his thoughtfulness.

"Actually, Kiri is the one who taught me this," you admitted, a fondness in your voice.

Neteyam's forehead furrowed slightly, "Then why does it always burn when she patches me up?"

With a twinkle in your eyes, you playfully suggested, "Sibling love?"

A mischievous smile curved his lips. "Or perhaps your touch is blessed by Eywa?" His words hung in the air, filled with a newfound flirtation that took you by surprise. 

"Oh, come on now, exaggerate much, do you?" you responded, attempting to brush off his words with a hint of irony, not fully realizing the impact they had on you.

Undeterred by your sarcastic retort, Neteyam looked deeply into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "The caress of your hand weaves a tapestry of enchantment, casting a spell that captivates my very soul."

His words echoed in your mind, resonating with a blend of tender affection and longing. You wished he had said those words when you were younger and so in love with him, meaning every syllable coming from his kissable lips. What you would have given to hear him say it.

A blush spread across your cheeks as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The air around you seemed charged with electricity, the tension between you both palpable.

"You said I should exaggerate," Neteyam added, a witty glint in his eyes, as if to remind you of your earlier banter. 

Your younger self would have etched his previous words into a tree to make them eternal — words you longed to hear from your crush, words that felt like a dream.

"Crush?" he asked with interest, and your eyes widened with the realization that you had spoken your thoughts aloud. "On whom?"

"Um," a jumble of thoughts flooded your mind at once, too late for an excuse, "You?" 

Your confession left him momentarily speechless, and your heart pounded in your chest. 

It's in the past, so it's okay to admit it, you told yourself, trying to calm down a bit.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Had," you corrected quickly.

"You had a crush on me?" he asked again, as if needing confirmation. It seemed to sweep him off his feet, a revelation he hadn't expected.

"Everyone did, everyone does," you confessed, trying to downplay the significance.

"Everyone except you?"

You shrugged, unsure how to answer, "I guess I'm… over it."

"Why?" he inquired.

"Come on, Neteyam," you sighed, trying to mask the bitterness in your voice, "don't act like you didn't know."

"I swear by Eywa this is news to me… I have never…" he hesitated briefly with his words, "It doesn't even make sense."

Make sense?

"Don't make me regret telling you," you said, your voice tinged with frustration, "It's not about making sense, and it's not a big deal either, don't you agree?"

"Yes, but I try to understand."

"What is there to understand?"

"Why would you even crush on me in the first place?"

Oh. 

"You're right," you tightly gripped the cloth, forcing a smile, "why would I."

Even though you reluctantly admitted it, it hurt you and scratched at your ego. You were now more than grateful to have never openly communicated your feelings. As an adult, you could handle it, but you know exactly that this reaction would have devastated your childhood self. You were not accustomed to this insensitivity from Neteyam, considering he always maintained a noble and respectable demeanor. This showed you even more how repulsive the idea of having you by his side was to him.

"Also, I'm sorry," you turned around in a swing, your voice filled with sadness, disappointment, and above all, anger—anger at him for acting like a skxawng and anger at yourself for being a skxawng by confiding in him, "that the thought of me being attracted to you disgusts you so much. It won't happen again, rest your mind."  

He seemed lost for words, blinking once, twice, and opening his mouth only to close it again, processing your words. Part of you yearned for him to say something, to prove you wrong, but nothing came. His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, altering between your eyes, the unspoken words hanging in the air. 

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere," you said, your voice tinged with resignation. You prepared to turn away, ready to retreat from the turmoil of the moment. But just as you began to pivot, a sudden, gentle grip on your arm stopped you in your tracks. It was Neteyam, his touch both unexpected and tender.

In that instant, conflicting emotions surged within you, caught between the instinct to push him away and the captivating gaze that held your attention. Without uttering a single word, he drew you closer, wrapping you in a tight embrace that left you completely defenseless, your body momentarily frozen in surprise against his bare skin.

Your initial response was to resist, your mind still reeling from the whirlwind of confusion. Yet, as his arms enveloped you, a scent as enchanting as the forest's vibrant essence and the serenity of sacred woods wafted into your consciousness. It was a harmonious blend that stirred your senses, mingling the fragrant allure of nature with the grounding whispers of sandalwood.

Inhaling deeply, the captivating aroma cast a spell upon you, dissolving the remnants of anger and frustration that had once consumed your thoughts like a distant memory as he held you firmly in his strong arms, the warmth of his body seeping into your very core.

In this suspended moment, time appeared to lose its grip as the only audible sounds were the rhythm of your synchronized breaths and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.

"I'm sorry too," you heard him whisper in your hair as he pulled away from you and left the tent, leaving you confused.

It was in that moment, surrounded by the fading light and the soft whispers of the forest outside the tent, that you realized the painful truth: nothing would be the same between you and Neteyam because

no matter what you did, you would never be able to make him love you.

And exactly this is the reason of your sleepless nights, which is why, in the middle of your melancholic nostalgia, you decided to take a little walk to the lake nearby to pass the time until daybreak which leads you to the lake. You currently sit on a mossy tree stump above the shimmering water allowing your feet to hang freely just above the glistening surface of the lake, instead of sleeping safe and sound like the rest of the village. The purples, greens, and yellows of the bioluminescent flora and fauna smile at you but you fail to smile back. Your heart heavy with a mix of emotions and your mind full of questions, you try not to think of more memories, each one feeling like a dagger, piercing your already fragile heart. 

You try to understand, yet it's difficult for you.

After so many failed attempts and moments of acceptance in between, he still manages to confuse you with his mixed signals. The moment, when he hugged you, replays relentlessly in your thoughts as if burned in your mind, a vivid recollection that carries the weight of his proximity, the tempting linger of his scent, and the electric touch that ignited a fierce tension within you. It was an encounter that left an indelible mark, an irresistible dance between desire and restraint, etching itself into the deepest recesses of your longing soul.

You groan into your hands. You want to hate him. So much.

Three eclipses have come and gone since then, way too much time to think between that and the part where you made the decision to distance yourself from Neteyam. This time for real. You wake up earlier than everyone else, dedicating yourself to your work, skipping communal meals and shared gatherings entirely. You complete your tasks and retreat back to your home, like a ghost in the clan, yet living unscathed within your own space, seeking solace in the sanctuary of solitude.

Almost every hour, you find yourself battling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, you long to see him, to be in his presence, and to feel that familiar connection. But on the other hand, you remember his last words and the way he looked at you when he learned about your past feelings. Distance will be best for the both of you. The ache in your heart hasn't subsided, but you know the step is necessary for your own well-being, it's a shield you've built to preserve what little strength remains within you.

Yesterday, your changed behavior was noticed by Tsahik, so she confronted you directly, but she neither questioned you nor expected any form of explanation. Her words still echo in your mind, partly because forgetting the moment will be difficult with the way she looked at you with her kind eyes, as if understanding the depths of your heartache.

"My child," she laid her hand gently on your shoulder, her voice carrying the wisdom of the ages, "Sometimes the tides do not turn in the way we hope but that does not diminish the beauty of the love within your heart. Always remember that Eywa has woven the threads of affection and devotion. Thus, have trust that the stars will align one day, for love, in all its form, is a gift to cherish."

The words resonate deep within your soul, as you sit by the tranquil water, the soft glow of the plants casting an ethereal light around you, a gentle breeze rustles through the verdant foliage. In these moments of isolation, you reflect on the times you've spent with Neteyam, the moments that sparked the flame of attraction within you. You question whether those were genuine or merely figments of your imagination, the doubts swirling in your mind, clouding your judgment and feeding your insecurities. 

The stars above seem to mirror the twinkle in your eyes, a bittersweet reminder of the unfulfilled desire for you can't comprehend why your heart continues to long for him despite your mind trying to move on. Your thoughts are deep in contemplation when—

"Can we talk?" The voice startles you, and you flinch sharply, almost letting out a scream. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, the fright taking hold of you. Quickly, you turn around, only to see that out of everyone, Neteyam approaches you, his figure blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a crooked smile forms on his lips.

You look up, meeting his gaze with a guarded expression, unsure of what to expect from this encounter. His presence catches you off guard, causing your heart to skip another beat. The sight of him stirs a mix of emotions within you—longing, uncertainty, fear, but also a flicker of hope.

"You didn't," you lie, your voice tinged with coldness.

He nods his head towards the space beside you, "May I?" 

Neteyam's eyes hold a certain earnestness, a silent plea for understanding. You just shrug your shoulders, and he interprets it as a yes. He takes a seat beside you, his movements graceful and measured, his tail gently swaying in the air, your shoulders and thighs nearly touching. 

The silence between you is tense, charged with unspoken words and residual feelings. You let your feet dangle above the water. As you wiggle your toes, you feel a gentle coolness from the air mingling with the refreshing touch of the water below.

He clears his voice, "I've noticed your absence these past few days."

"Oh?" Your ears perk up with curiosity, surprised that he has noticed, "I was busy."

"You were missing from the meal servings as well," he notes, his words carrying a hint of concern.

"Yeah, I haven't had much of an appetite lately," you reply, sounding detached.

You aren't sure if you have misheard, but it seems like Neteyam has whispered softly to himself, "Me neither," although it can also be your mind playing tricks on you.

"You see, I, uh..." he pauses, seemingly struggling to find the right words which is so unusual for him, "Can I speak openly with you?"

"Don't you always?" Your voice still laced with a hint of coldness.

"Indeed," you noticed from the corner of your eye a brief tension in his hands that gradually relaxes, "I just wanted to let you know that there is no need for you to feel obligated to skip communal gatherings because of me." 

You can't help but scoff at that, however, he remains undeterred by your reaction.

"It's okay if you don't want to see me — I will keep my distance if that is what you want, but, please, don't avoid the clan in an attempt to avoid me. Don't isolate yourself."

"Funny," you say bitterly, your gaze still on the water, "that you think you have that much power over me."

"That's not what I wanted to say, it's—"

"It's fine, Neteyam," you interrupt him, turning your head to him, your jaw clenched, "I get it. If the future Olo'eyktan says so, I'll comply. See you at the morning meal."

You attempt to get up, but he gently grasps your wrist, halting your movement.

"I can sense that something has changed between us, and it weighs heavily on my heart," his voice carries a hint of vulnerability.

"Things change," you respond as he loosens his grip, but you refrain from attempting to get up again, waiting for the conversation to end, "Is there anything else?"

"Yes," he shifts, causing your thighs to briefly brush against each other, "I've had time to reflect on our last conversation."

"Actually, let's not—" you try to interrupt him, but this time he doesn't let your words stop him.

"Let me say this one thing and after that you don't have to talk to me again."

You meet his gaze, which is filled with honesty and a touch of guilt. You nod and look at him, noticing how he rubs his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath.

"I was caught off guard," he admits, his voice softer now, "When we talked, I mean; and when I learned that you used to feel an affection for me — I didn't handle it well. I'm sorry for the way I reacted and for the pain I may have caused you."

You remain silent for a few seconds remembering the unpleasant conversation from last time, before you speak, "We don't have to talk about it, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" You notice the tension in his muscles. "You see," he takes a deep breath, "I didn't understand why you would crush on me."

"You made that very clear," you remark.

"I regret my poor choice of words, and for any offense it may have caused. I immediately noticed that my words had an impact on you, but I was too overwhelmed to correct myself in the moment," he admits, a hint of regret in his voice, "Please know that the idea of you being attracted to me never has and never will disgust me," his eyes lock with yours as his voice gets quieter when he adds, "It scares me."

Upon hearing that, your features soften slightly, a flicker of empathy crossing your face, and the question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, "Why?"

Now he's the one shrugging, "Everyone has their own doubts and fears."

You're not satisfied with that response, and you want him to open up to you for which you are willing to meet him halfway. So you begin an attempt to make him elaborate on his statement, "I'm scared of many things." you watch him intently as you speak, "Accidentally plucking poisonous plants instead of the usual herbs, falling down the hallelujah mountains, being eaten alive by nantangs." And most of all, rejection. "I can't help but wonder what fears could reside within a mighty warrior like yourself."

His mouth twitches slightly upwards when you say that, but is quickly replaced by a neutral expression. "The possibility of someone seeing through my façade," Neteyam admits sighing, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and self-reflection, "Of someone truly knowing me," he holds your gaze, a certain vulnerability in them, "That terrifies me."

You are left speechless, completely caught off guard by his answer.

"But," you stammer, trying to find the right words to express your thoughts, "you're Neteyam, you're... perfect in everything you do. I never considered the possibility that you might have these thoughts."

He shakes his head, disagreeing. "No, definitely not, I am far off from being perfect. That's why I couldn't understand why you would have feelings for me," he confesses, vulnerability shining in his gaze. "Because I never saw myself the way you did. But maybe, just maybe, this is why I've been blind to the possibility of something more between us."

"If you're only here to make me feel better about myself..." you start, your voice trailing off.

"No," he groans in frustration. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

He chuckles at your reaction, "I get nervous when you look at me that way."

"What do you mean?" You are the one getting nervous because of his statement for he doesn't look nervous at all, on the contrary, he looks very relaxed and almost overconfident. 

"Yeah, can't you tell my hands are all sweaty?" he lets you know with a smirk while he studies your face.

"Neteyam," you blink in confusion, "Are you okay?"

"You're not listening," he sighs, his smile dropping slightly.

"Then talk openly," you urge impatiently.

He takes a deep breath and looks you directly in the eyes. "I've come to realize that you mean more to me than just a friend."

Your features falter and your eyes widen, as the realization dawns upon you that your feelings have not been unrequited after all. "No."

"I have a crush on you, too," he whispers euphorically, confirming your thoughts.

"No, Neteyam, not now," you shake your head quickly, your mind filled with way too many thoughts and too much confusion. Instantly, you stand up as if stung by an insect, trying to maintain your composure.

"It didn't start now, it was always there," he admits, standing up as well, now towering over you and studying your face and your reaction again. "But I fear that I've missed my chance. And now, it seems like it's too late."

Ignoring his words entirely, you fixate your serious gaze on him, "You can't do this to me."

"What?" he blinks, seeming to comprehend your words, "Why?" his gaze momentarily shifts from one eye to the other with a swift glance, reflecting his confusion.

"Because all my life, I did everything to try to make you notice me. I went beyond my comfort zone, I did everything I could. But from you," You look at him, gesturing towards his entire figure as if the reason were obvious, "there was nothing. Not one single acknowledgment from you. I accepted it. I moved on. I made peace with the thought of just knowing you and supporting what is good for you," You find yourself almost breathless, your words tumbling out rapidly, but each one carries sincere meaning. "You can't come now, years later, and pretend that you have a crush on me. I can't go through that again."

He takes a step forward, clearly taken aback by your outburst. "I... I'm not pretending to—"

"And I'm so tired," you interrupt him, your voice faltering, "Now that I've finally let go of you, you can't say things like this."

"Let go?" he repeats, his voice filled with disbelief, "Of me?"

"Yes, Neteyam," you persist firmly. "Let go of you. I don't want you anymore."

The night air feels heavy with unspoken regrets and unfulfilled desires as the silence underlines the shared acknowledgment of the chasm that has opened between you. Neteyam's expression shifts from disappointment to determination, a flicker of hope dancing in his eyes. "How do I make you love me, then?"

It feels ironic that he's asking you that question, considering you used to be the one who always wondered how you could make him love you whenever you saw him. You groan in frustration, feeling overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. 

"I worked so hard to accept things as they are. That is not fair, Neteyam." A mix of sadness and anger can be heard in your voice.

"Please listen," he pleads, reaching out to touch your arm. You close your eyes, turning your head away. "I've been blind to your feelings, consumed by my own worries and obligations, and I didn't see what was right in front of me, hurting you in the process. I'm sorry I caused you pain. If I had known sooner…"

"What then?" you interrupt, your voice filled with bitterness. "Do you think everything would magically change, and we'd be deeply in love with a family of our own by now?"

Neteyam pauses for a moment, processing your words, and a hopeful smile crosses his face. "Yes, that's a possibility."

You groan in exasperation and attempt to push him away, your frustration boiling over. "No, Neteyam. I can't keep living in this cycle of uncertainty." 

As you push him away from you, your heart heavy, you walk away with determined steps, wanting to bring as much distance between him and you as possible.

"I love you!" he shouts after you, causing you to freeze in your tracks and turn around in utter shock. "I love you. And if that's not enough, then so be it. But I would rather be damned than let you go now, heading who knows where in the middle of the night. If you don't want me, I won't approach you, I won't come near. But don't run away from me."

Desperation visible in his voice, his words reach deep into your heart; the intensity echoing in the air, leaving a profound impact on both of you.

"I've been waiting for your love for far too long," you respond bitterly.

Taking cautious steps in your direction, trying to close the physical and emotional distance between you, he asks, "Why waste more time?" It feels as if an invisible force draws you together, intertwining your fates in this pivotal moment but you remain stubborn, too exhausted and clouded from the painful burn in your heart.

"I don't want you," you declare, the words slipping out uncertainly, as if trying to convince both him and yourself.

"Then look me in the eyes when you say those words," he challenges, his voice stern, gaze unwavering.

"I don't want you," you repeat, louder this time, trying to emphasize your resolve. However, instead of looking into his eyes, your gaze fixates on his face, tracing the patterns of his glowing freckles that your mind has memorized long ago.

The moonlight bathes the scene in a gentle gleam, and you both stare at each other in complete silence, the space between you filled with suffocating tension.

A knowing smile suddenly forms on his lips. "I don't believe you."

"I don't want you, Neteyam!" you exclaim, raising your voice even more, repeating the words over and over, in a desperate attempt to convince him, "I don't want you, I don't want you, I don't want you!"

He studies you intently for another moment, his eyes filled with hope.

"Your tail gives you away," he says triumphantly, his smile growing. And that's when you finally let go of your suppressed emotions. Your lower lip begins to tremble, and before you know it, you find yourself in his warm embrace, his strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"I want you," you confessed against his chest, your voice barely audible and filled with so much vulnerability, "After everything, I still want you." 

"Shh, you have me," he whispers, his voice soothing and reassuring.

You sob, the weight of your emotions finally breaking free, and he tenderly pats your head, his fingers gliding through your hair. His touch brings a sense of calmness to your racing heart and gently dries your tears.

"I'll make up for all the time lost, I promise," his voice reaches your ear, soft and full of sincerity.

His words continue to soothe you, and at one point, he hums a faint melody that resonates deep within you, gradually bringing an end to your sobs.

"Do you recall the day you asked about my plans after my Dream Hunt, and I hesitated to provide an answer?" He asks after you calm down, his voice carrying an infinite sense of solace.

Your arms still around him, you nod against his chest, every word of that conversation etched into your mind.

"That day," he continues, "I have sworn to myself to admire your eternal beauty from afar, to cherish your body, mind, and soul until the end of my days," he whispers softly in your hair, "with the hope that one day I will hold you close and claim you as my very own."

You take a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed by his words and the emotions swirling within you. Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your teary eyes meeting his with awe.

"I... I never imagined you felt this way," you whisper, your voice hoarse and fragile from your sobs. "To think that you've carried these feelings for me all this time, it's... I don't know what to say."

"Interesting," he comments, eyes with a gleam, lips playful, "You were just as oblivious to my feelings as I was to yours, so I guess that makes us even." A mischievous bunny-like smile plays across his face, transforming him into the youthful version of himself that you have fallen deeply in love with, no longer the mighty warrior following in the footsteps of the great Toruk Makto, but the young man who has captured your heart long ago.

You can feel tears welling up in your eyes again, overwhelmed by the weight of his words and the intensity of your own emotions. With a shaky breath, you reach to your waist, gently intertwining your fingers with his.

In the warmth of his arms, you find solace for your burning heart. His arms hold you tightly, offering a sense of intimate security that you've always wished for. But then, something shifts. 

The intensity of your emotions begins to wane, and as you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, you see his gaze fixed upon you with unwavering love, trying to read you as he cups your face with his large hands. His thumb gently brushes away a lingering tear on your cheek, his touch delicate against your skin. A soft, affectionate smile graces his lips as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against the place where your tear was mere seconds ago. The sweetness of the gesture stirs your heart, a silent affirmation of his loving nature. He continues to kiss away your tears, each touch a soothing balm to your wounded soul.

A powerful desire burns between you then, as his soft lips linger near yours. His eyes meet yours again, seeking permission, and you respond with a silent nod. Right then and there, the world around you fades into the background, and all that matters is the connection you share. With a surge of passion, his lips meet yours in a fervent kiss, the longing coming to an end, hearts intertwined. 

The tender touch of his lips against yours feels like an electric jolt that sends shivers down your spine. You both pull back slowly from the passionate kiss, breathless yet connected. Your eyes meet, gazing into each other with a depth of love that words can never describe.

His eyes hold unwavering sincerity as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. "You've captured my heart in ways I can't fully express," he confesses, his voice filled with affection. "And if you'll allow me, I want to show you every day how deeply I love you."

A deep blue blush tints your cheeks as you struggle to find the right words to respond. He doesn't seem to mind as a soft smile spreads across his face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, adoring the tranquil moment between two souls.

Enjoying each other's presence and your newfound attraction and happiness, you spend the rest of the night hand in hand wandering around mindlessly, exchanging loving gazes, talking about everything and sweet nothing's at once like two fools in love.

"Do you remember that day?" You hear him ask cheerfully as his free hand wanders to the songcord attached to his loincloth. You follow his movement and your eyes widen as you recognize the dried petals, intricately woven into one of the beads. "It was so unconventional, going against tradition. Who has ever seen a girl giving a flower to a boy? No one. But you didn't care. You were true to yourself, and you gifted me your favorite flower, and it meant so much more than just a little gesture."

Taking aback by his words and the bittersweet memory you can't help but smile widely as you inspect his songcord but confusion grazes your face at the same time.

"Wait—What do you mean? Lo'ak told me it's your favorite flower."

"No, he told me it's your favorite."

"Well, it became my favorite after I learned that it's yours."

A boisterous laugh escapes him as he throws his head back, his chest almost vibrating, and it is so contagious that you can't help but join in, the air filled with heartfelt laughter.

"It's gonna cause quite a scandal, but Lo'ak definitely deserves a good punch when he wakes up." You laughed, knowing that he meant that half-heartedly.

He delicately cradles your hand back in his, your fingers intertwining as he brings them up, his lips softly brushing against your knuckles in a loving kiss. The touch sends a warmth through your body. 

"Speaking of scandals," you say sheepishly as you reluctantly let go of his hand, "maybe it's better not to enter our village hand in hand just yet?"

He chuckles at your suggestion.

"Maybe," he agrees, his eyes filled with adoration, his face leaning slightly forward, "Can I have one last kiss before that?"

You look at him challengingly, he mirrors your expression, a playful glint in his eyes, coming closer to your face. 

Your lips almost touching for the second time this night, you whisper, "Only if you catch me." 

With that, you run off, your heart blooming with excitement, and his laughter follows you through the enchanting forest as the sun rises, casting its warm rays across the sky, and you know that the future holds nothing but love for the both of you.

for anyone asking, neteyam does in fact catch you and gets his kiss(es) <3 thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging 🤍 btw, what is your love language? 💕

[inkykeiji]

are we having fun yet?

characters: todoroki touya, todoroki enji warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (adoptive siblings), rough sex, tw enji, fem!reader, toxic relationships (possessiveness, jealousy, touya’s just very mean) words: 1.7k

From the moment you stepped through the estate door, you’ve always been the princess of the family; babied to the point of patronization, pampered to the point of spoiled brat, rotten right to your sugary core.

The Todoroki family’s cherished little charity case, orphaned by a building Endeavor had failed to catch when you were only five years old, welcomed into his arms and his family and his big, big home. 

His.

Everyone loved you instantly, took to you like a swarm of maggots to a piece of fresh, ripe fruit—swathed you in adoration, gorged themselves on your sweet flesh, consumed your seeds and planted you in their hearts, let you take root, fester, grow.

Except for Touya, who, despite his big age at eleven years old—a whole six years older than you—developed a lifelong penchant for yanking on your pigtails or braids just to hear you yelp out that pretty Touya-nii!, filtered through a cutely scrunched pout. 

Everyone still loves you, even well into adulthood, desperate to aid you, to wait on you hand and foot, to take care of the poor little orphaned girl. 

Except for Touya.

Because Touya loves you even more than everyone else. Touya loves you the most. 

He wouldn’t be so goddamn mean if he didn’t. 

But regardless of how precious you are to all of the Todorokis, you are not perfect. 

And there is one teensy, tiny, slightly distasteful habit you just can’t seem to kick. 

It’s a habit you developed when you were just a child, only a few months into officially being a Todoroki.

It’s a habit you should’ve grown out of by now—any respectable young woman would have, at this point. 

It’s a habit you’ve been spoken to about several times—but, evidently, nothing quite seems to stick. 

It isn’t normal for a fully grown adult to jump into her father’s arms like that, Fuyumi had tried to explain gently, eyes brimming with sympathetic pity. It isn’t entirely appropriate. 

Maybe not. But you’re not entirely sure you care. 

Because you just can’t help it, legs taking off the moment you hear Daddy’s engine cut, bare feet padding down the hallway as Daddy’s boots collide with the cobblestone walkway, rounding the foyer corner just as he’s stepping through the front door, barrelling into his waiting arms with a syrupy sweet squeal of Daddy! sounding in your throat.

“Hey, princess,” he’s saying as he catches you, hoists you up by your armpits and cradles you to his body, large hands strong and secure beneath your bum. “How’s Daddy’s girl?” 

A routine procedure, question murmured out like clockwork, but you never tire of it.

“Better, now that you’re home,” you sigh into him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms twined around his neck, resting your head on his broad shoulder as you stare up at him. 

The familiar scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, infused with notes of dirt and rubble and a hint of sweat, and you breathe it in deeply, desperate to fill your lungs with it, that Dad Aftershave that never seems to fade, no matter how long or ruthless his shift was. 

Your ribs stretch, strain, press into Daddy’s strong chest, and he chuckles, the sound rumbling warmly against you. 

He knows what you’re doing. 

“Trying to inhale me?” he asks, but amusement streaks his tone, crystal eyes melty and lidded as they stare down at you, a small smile on his lips. 

With an embarrassed little squeak, you nod, burrowing your burning face into his shoulder, Enji laughing again; gentle, soft, full of love. 

“Y’jus smell really good, s’all,” you mumble into him. “You smell like home, Daddy.” 

“Even all sweaty and icky from work?”

“Even all sweaty and icky from work,” you confirm with a lethargic nod, thighs tightening around his thick waist, desperate to hug him closer. 

Droplets of exertion still adorn his neck, little beads glittering delicately in the setting sunlight spilling through the front windows in large beams of gold. With content humming in your throat, you nuzzle your cheek into his damp skin, smearing his sweat across your flesh, letting it seep into your tissues, forcefully marking yourself with his scent. 

“That’s gross, dad. I don’t know why you let her do that to you.” A smooth, dark voice sounds behind you, two pairs of eyes snapping to the source. 

Touya.

Leaning against the cased opening, he smirks—a cruel little curl up of his lips, sharp and void of mirth—his arms crossed loosely over his chest in practiced apathy.  

Sapphire eyes skim down your knotted bodies slow and languid, appraising, degrading, before climbing back up to meet your own stare, blue flames licking around his pupils.

“It’s not right,” he continues. He’s talking to Daddy, but his eyes haven’t left your own, the inferno blazing in his irises so bright you’re sure it’ll leave sunspots blooming in your vision.

It hurts, but you won’t bow, you won’t break—not here, not now, not for him. 

With decided defiance, you trail the tip of your nose along the sharp edge of your father’s jaw—slow, soft, sensual—planting a chaste kiss to the strong, defined hinge, steadily holding your eldest brother’s unblinking gaze. 

Oh, Touya knows what you’re doing. 

And, oh, Touya fucking hates it. 

Something sours his face, twists his features into a bitter wince—anger, or heartache, or both, morphing his handsomeness into something ugly, stained with envy.

“Oh, Touya,” Enji dismisses with a grumble and a roll of his eyes. “Can’t a father hug his little girl when he comes home? What’s the issue with that?” 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t be serious,” Touya snorts, and it’s caustic, gnawing through the heavy atmosphere. “Your ‘little girl’ is a grown fucking woman. It’s weird.” 

It’s wrong.  

“Touya’s got a point, Enji,” Rei says as she rounds the corner, lips pressed in a flat, thin line. “Sweetheart,” her eyes find yours, mouth stretching into a small, tight smile, straining beneath the pressure of contrived cordiality. “We talked about this.” 

Brow furrowing, your eyes swap between their faces. “But I’m—I was just—”

But it’s no use trying to explain; they’ve already made up their minds, already sentenced you to damnation, ice and slate scrutinizing, suffocating as their combined stares weigh down on you.

A garbled noise hitches in your throat, something that sounds suspiciously similar to unfair as you untangle yourself from your Daddy, Enji’s large hands aiding in the task, setting you down onto the hardwood floor gently.

A precious moment, smashed to bits by hard jealousy. 

An apologetic ruffle of your hair, his palm so massive it practically encases the entire top of your head—sorry, kiddo—and then he’s off, stalking down the hallway for a much-anticipated shower to wash the grime of the day from his skin, his wife following close to his side, hissing out reproaches, fragments of their conversation—discourage and indulge and shouldn’t—slicing your ears.

“You always ruin everything,” you spit at your brother, the moment both of your parents are out of view.  

“That so?” he gazes down at you with polished impassivity, sapphire lidded but scorching—but you know him better than that, you know him the best. 

“Yeah, that is so,” you seethe. “It’s so unfair that you get to fuck anything that moves but I’m not even allowed to give our father a simple hug.”

Disgust screws up his face, but it’s tinged with desolation, the implication sewn into your words loud and clear—if you could, if Daddy would let you, you’d fuck him, too.

Whether or not that’s true, whether or not it’s just a tactic to hurt him, doesn’t matter. The fact that you’re even making the implication itself is enough. 

And Touya knows better than most that these little quips, razored little insults spit between siblings, always have a glimmer of truth to them. 

“There’s nothing simple about that ‘hug’—if that’s what you want to call it.” The words are acrid, stinging his tongue, but his voice cracks, eroded by emotion. 

“What would you call it?” 

“You should be ashamed,” he continues, ignoring your question. 

“Why? It’s just an innocent—”

“Innocent?” he scoffs, eyebrows raising with sardonic surprise. “It’s indecent. Winding around our father like that, climbing him like he’s a fucking tree—” His face puckers, the thought venom in his mouth, head shaking in disapproval.

“Maybe you’re just jealous,” you say, lifting your nose with a haughty air of superiority, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the kill. “Huh? Jealous that I touch Daddy like that so freely, jealous that I like Daddy better than I like you.” 

Poor Daddy, used as a toy, a tool to wield against your big brother—the only foolproof weapon in your arsenal, the only surefire way to hurt Touya, to guarantee you get what you’re so desperately vying for.

Daddy’s Little Girl always gets what she wants—consciously or not, Daddy makes sure of that. 

Touya smirks in response; nothing more than a lopsided twitching of his lips, the hellfire in his eyes flaring, a spark of terror zipping through your veins. Huffing out the ghost of a laugh through his nostrils—humourless, bleak—his tongue runs along his front teeth, sucking hard, eyes narrowed.

You know what that means, too.

You’ll pay for that remark later tonight, face shoved into your eldest brother’s pillows, cotton wedged between your teeth as his hips smack your ass and his cock pounds your cervix and his fingers tighten around your wrists, yanking back with every plunging thrust forward, using them as leverage, your muscles pulled taut and aching. 

And that’ll just be the start. He won’t stop until his pillow is thoroughly soaked with you—your tears, your spit, your sweat, drying in hard crusts of salt—until you’re sobbing out his honorific, twined so beautifully with messy apologies, the only words your stupid little brain can comprehend, until your cute little cunt has been fucked raw, split open by his thick cock over and over and over again, stuffed so full of your big brother’s cum that it’s oozing past his shaft in dribbles of cream.

He won’t stop until your body is mangled and marred with him, dark splotches of broken blood vessels and scabby molds of his teeth reminding you of who you truly belong to.

And then, he’ll fuck you some more. 

Your Welcome Home ritual won’t be the only thing your big brother is ruining tonight. 

[leahsgf]

Can you write Alessia Russo x reader where reader has known her and Ella toone for years and is always watching their matches no matter what but reader and Alessia fall in love behind Ella’s back and then get found out?!

CAUGHT OUT - alessia russo

since before you could even remember, it had always been you and ella, the pair of you being practically attached at the hip from when you were babies, all the way up into adulthood. your bond only grew with time, and when she introduced you to alessia as young teenagers, the three of you very quickly became an absolutely inseparable trio - falling into eachother’s stride with ease.

you weren’t entirely sure where you ended and they begun.

even as you all got older and couldn’t physically see each other as much as you used to - with them both at the peaks of their careers, and the travel and demands that came alongside that, and you caught up in your own career - you still remained a solid unit. your family.

you didn’t play football, you never had, having always been the scrawny little kid who was terrified of pe lessons, earning yourself the lifelong nickname ‘tiny’, which still stuck even as a fully grown adult. but you were there for every single one of your girls’ moments. rain or shine, no matter what side of the world, or how busy you were with work, you’d be in the stands, cheering them on.

today was no different - finding yourself sat at wembley, a stadium you’d come to learn inside and out, to watch them play. you always adored being at games, seeing your girls flourish always made you want to burst with pride. and likewise, they loved having you there, always playing their best when you were in the crowd- branding you their ‘good luck charm’, and constantly bickering over whose jersey you’d wear to the matches.

-

being such a tight knit group, and having such a set routine when it came to games - alessia’s transfer to arsenal changed things for the three of you. many things, in fact.

for almost the entirety of the time you’d known them, they’d played for the same teams - the only exception prior to this being alessia’s college days. for you, it came as an adjustment, a new team to learn about so you’d be able to fully understand and appreciate her future stories, different games to go to, and the realisation that your two favourite people were going to play against eachother at some point. at multiple points.

this also meant that most of the time when you were going to one of their games, you wouldn’t see the other. this didn’t make a difference when it came to the times you would go to watch ella play, but with alessia, it changed things. it blurred lines that the pair of you had previously forced yourselves to draw, using ella as an almost reason, signifying the fact you were best friends, and that’s all it was.

in fact, you actually had no idea at what point exactly you and alessia became more than friends. from the secret stolen kisses at sleepovers as teenagers for ‘practice’ to the lingering glances and touches that lasted just a second longer than friendly ones should, you weren’t even sure that you had ever truly been just that.

however, with the sudden absence of the pair of your’s best friend, and the physical representation of the walls put between you, said wall came crashing down - within alessia’s first week at her new club.

your relationship very quickly blossomed from that moment, a decades worth of hidden, suppressed feelings from both sides pouring out.

despite how obviously in love with each other you were, you had been terrified to reveal it to the world, specifically your world, not wanting to lose, or even slightly affect your friendship with her.

the arsenal girls had figured it out instantly the first time they met you, and had been sworn to secrecy by a very flustered and panicked alessia, which made matters even worse, and made what you were doing feel like even more of a betrayal to your best friend.

the months of sneaking around and not being able to tell ella about a relationship you were in for the first time in your life was killing you, and the more time that passed made it more awkward to come out and say to her.

there had been many close calls that didn’t help your stressing over her reaction, from the one time you had to climb out of alessia’s bedroom window when ella unexpectedly showed up demanding a girls night after training, and then had to wait twenty minutes outside before going around to the front door to pretend you’d just arrived, to the time you’d had to practically leap apart mid drunken make out when you had hosted a group of your friends at your apartment and one of them stumbled into the kitchen without warning, and thankfully (for you, not for her) it was only leah.

-

your cheeks flushed furiously as alessia spun you around, her and ella both immediately finding you after the final whistle had blown, and the lionesses solidified their well earned win.

“see tooney our little good luck charm always comes in handy!” the blonde patted your head after releasing you from her grasp - giggling when ella immediately latched onto you in response, ordering you to ‘pick her up’ after you’d already caught her in your arms.

“my girls! this calls for celebrations, come on, we’re going out!” she yelled, almost ear piercingly loud - quite literally for you, as you foolishly held her right next to your ear.

there was a group of the younger players who always went out to party after wins, and you naturally went along every time - having known most of them for the same time you’d known your best friends, practically being an extra limb to either one of them.

you hung around the locker rooms waiting for them to change and shower, rolling your eyes at the winks and nudges of beth and leah as they passed you, and shoving them away - catching a glimpse of alessia and ella closely behind them, particularly focusing on the former’s panicked expression.

-

the journey back to the team’s hotel was one that could only be described as loud and chaotic. you were sat on your girlfriend’s lap, squished between her and the seat in-front of you, and ella was sat next to you, so close that it was practically a pile up.

thankfully, she was too busy bellowing an interesting rendition of ‘islands in the stream’ to notice the blonde’s hand on your hip, pulling you flush into her and drawing little hearts and stars onto the exposed skin from where your shirt had risen up.

you and your best friends had always been touchy, so you on one of their laps was a regular occurrence, therefore there was no way in your mind that ella could find out.

-

you were back and being ushered into their room to get ready for the night ahead before you knew it - desperately attempting not to blush furiously as alessia helped you top up your makeup, following ella’s strict orders so you could all match.

“right i need to find mary she said she’d curl my hair! less, remember what i said! i know how clumsy you are just follow what i told you, yeah? mary! mary!” she didn’t even give herself a chance to finish her own sentence before she was darting out of the room, voice echoing the corridor and most likely gaining a future noise complaint in the process.

not even a second after she was out of sight, alessia turned to you with a grin that only you could read - pulling you into her.

“oh i’ve been desperate to get you alone all week, i’ve missed you baby.” she grinned, throwing her arms around you and peppering kisses all over your face before finally meeting your lips.

you melted into her touch, instantly being returned home just by the slightest trace of her fingertips in your hair, and laughing as she playfully pushed you down onto the bed.

you barely had time to register her the feeling of her lips, and the comforting weight of her on top of you before the sound of a door being flung open and a following gasp hit your ears.

alessia practically flew off of you as you threw your head back onto the pillow and scrunched your eyes closed. you knew exactly who it was without even needing to look.

“el we can expl-”

“MARY YOU OWE ME SO MUCH MONEY!”

and she was gone just as fast as she stumbled in, cackling as mary groaned from the next room.

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

The gang & Lucifer + chaotic child reader

a/n: This goes without saying but this is platonic. I have not made one romantic thing and I don't know why

not proofread!

Charlie: Very nervous. You don't have any self-preservation skills or any real way to protect yourself. At least Niffty is an adult so she can trust her with knives and all that. Kinda. Watches you like a hawk. It can get kinda annoying but it's because she cares. The hotel is completely baby-proof. You're not a baby though so it doesn't... work. Tries to help you get your emotions out in a less destructive way. One time you tried drawing the page was a mess of colors. Another time was baking the kitchen was a mess. But it's not hurting anyone so its a win. Okay, the kitchen might of hurt Niffty emotionally.

Vaggie: Tired. You guys are the defention of this imange :

(but that's also her with everyone at the hotel except Husk so whatever) She is less mean when scolding you than she is with others. Both because you are a child and there's a 99% chance you would bite her.

Alastor: He would either despise you or see you as his kid. For the sake of fic, we're going with the second one. You have a similar dynamic that he has with Niffty. Though cause you're a kid he might try to teach you his morals (or his lack of morals.) His ass is going to teach you the most insane things. Do NOT let this man teach kids unless you want future serial killers. And you're already very chaotic so this isn't a huge leap. Charlie, please steal you from him.

Angel Dust: I feel like he'd be okay with kids? Like not great as a parent but just visiting or babysitting he'd actually be pretty competent. Very chill about keeping you out of danger. Just picks you up and moves you away from the danger. Or if you have something dangerous just snatches it and puts it away. If it's not going to kill you also engages in the chaos with you. Irresponsible older brother who still cares about your safety.

Husk: Slightly protective of you. Won't let you go outside without someone else. Because you'd probably die in the weirdest way possible. He acts like he doesn't care but he defiantly does. There have been multiple times he's had to yank beer bottles out of your time. You weren't going to drink it but you'd smash it and use a weapon.

Lucifer: Charlie was a chaos magnet as a kid too! But more the hyper type and not the "I'm going to stab you" type. Does not acknowledge the fact that you're even slightly. Just the "Get your fucking dog bitch" "it don't bite" "YES IT DO" Can keep up with you and often plays with you. Will get you anything you want. Besides weapons those are off-limits.

Niffty: Two peas in a pod. I've based most people's reactions off their relationship with her. You two are a force to be reckoned with. So much rage and desire for destruction such little bodies to contain it. She is a horrible influence on you <3.

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

i'm fully willing to accept that sokka's weird "play hard to get" advice in "the fortuneteller" was just the writers (rightfully) making fun of that type of dating advice however there's a part of me that's still like. HOW did sokka come up with that. there were no girls his age in his village besides his sister so presumably he's only had 1 single romantic encounter (suki) by that point and that very much did not involve him being aloof and uninterested. yes he's lying to aang about being romantically experienced and probably pulling it out of his ass but why is that what he comes up with.

after pondering, i think there's a few possibilities:

hakoda. now, i don't think it's romantic advice hakoda would give. he's a friendly guy and presumably pulled kya just by being, y'know, sweet and funny and hot. however i CAN see him saying it as a joke. like he says something goofy and kya rolls her eyes fondly like "why did i marry you" and he's like "definitely my cool unattainable mysterious appeal" and they both crack up because he was actually adorably down bad. only thing is, baby sokka does not know that and takes the joke at face value. that's how dad said he got mom! but dad was joking. dad actually tripped over himself and fell face first into the snow when she smiled at him

some older kid in the tribe. there are no girls sokka's age in his village but i have to imagine there are other villages in the tribe, we just don't see them bc after the raid the villages got more isolated and more mobile (tents over igloos) to avoid detection by the fire nation. so baby sokka had a baby crush on a girl from another village and an slightly older boy (someone who would later be just old enough to go to war with the men and leave sokka as the oldest boy in the village) tried to give him Sage Advice. but sokka was 10 and the kid was 14 so it was Bad Advice

bato. this is the funniest option to me bc "play hard to get" is such childish advice for a grown adult to give. but it kinda fits with the whole bakoda storyline of bato quietly pining for hakoda for years. worked so hard at maintaining Maximum Aloofness that the guy he liked didn't realize it for decades

katara. okay actually maybe THIS is the funniest. she found out sokka had a crush on the girl from the other village and thinking her brother is gross and icky and no girl should have to deal with that she said hey. you know what girls like? when you pretend you're not interested :) baby katara is so cute and so full of mischief <3

[iloveavatar]

Inseparable

neteyam x fem!reader

warnings: soft smut? but not smut??

friends to lovers (this was a request by @roxxy !)

hopefully this is ok🤞🤞

neteyam and y/n have known each other for as long as anyone can remember. neytiri once found neteyam babbling with another na’vi child when he wondered off. she noticed right away how the two were holding hands as if they were to disappear if they let go. neytiri tried to get neteyam to follow her back home, however the two children would start whining as if they were about to break into full sobs whenever their hands let go.

neytiri had the strangest feeling about this na’vi child. she looked around to see if there was a mother or father that was looking for her. however, the more she looked the more she realized this baby didn’t have anyone.

‘who would leave a poor child alone?’ she thought. she then scooped the two into her arms and slowly made her way home.

———————-timeskip to age 12————————

neteyam and y/n we’re running through the woods to see which one of them were faster. the end of the race was at the Tree of Voices.

neteyam and y/n caught sight of the glow the tree emitted and sped up. the two were pumping their legs as fast as they could make them go. y/n was more focused on her speed compared to where her feet were actually stepping. her foot hit a twig and sent her falling into the soft ground below.

neteyam however,was still caught in the running. he was getting closer to the tree! he was going to win! he touched the tree and turned out to brag until he noticed y/n sitting on the ground a little ways away with her ears dropped and sniffling slightly.

neteyam gasped and quickly ran back to help her.

“i’m so sorry y/n! i- i didn’t see you fall i swear! i would’ve stopped if i saw you i promise!” he stuttered out.

he hoped she wasn’t upset with him. he checked her over for any injuries, only to find a little scrape on her arm. it would leave a small scar, one that you could only find if you were purposely looking for it.

“it’s ok neteyam.. i wasn’t watching where i was going.” she sniffled. she saw the guilt filled look ok neteyams face and tried to lift the mood “apparently eywa has favorites and wanted a certain someone to win the race.” she joked

a small smile came across neteyams face. he then helped her stand and walked over to the Tree of Voices. they both stared at the tree with glints of admiration in their eyes.

“when we’re older, we’re going to have to have a rematch race. we’ll be stronger and faster,so it will be a fair race this time! no cheating!” y/n declared with a determined face.

neteyam then stuck his hand out towards her and said “deal! only let’s hope that next time you don’t eat the ground again…” he smirked.

“hey! i did not eat the ground! i just admired it… closely!” she tried to defend

neteyam laughed and then stayed it was time to head on home. the two walked hand in hand knowing that soon one day they would have a rematch.

———————-timeskip to age 17————————

y/n and neteyam had both grown into mature young adults. neteyam was a mighty warrior, taking after his father. while y/n trained with neytiri during hunts. the two were still competitive as ever. however the more they grew up, the more they realized there was some type of feeling they had for one another.

neteyam was coming back from a recent raid from the sky people. he had a split lip and a couple of scratches on his chest and upper arms. he already received a lecture from his father, now he had to prepare himself for the lecture he was about to receive from you.

he slowly made his way to your tent hut with his ears drooping on the side of his head. he took a deep breath and slowly continued his walk.

you didn’t need to turn around to know it was neteyam who had entered your tent. you knew his footsteps by now. you got the medicine that you already knew he needed and turned around.

you slowly started to patch up his scratches on his biceps and his chest. as you were applying the paste onto his chest you felt his heartbeat quicken due to how close you were to him. he looked at you with this unknown glint in his eyes. he looked at you as if you were the only na’vi left on the entire planet of pandora.

you slowly made your way up to his face. you gently traced your fingers along his lips to place the past onto them. his lips were warm and made you want to lean in to close the gap between you two, but you were scared he didn’t feel the same.

“you know… you really should try to be more careful out there.” you started. he started to roll his eyes and turn his head but you cupped his face in between your hands.

“i mean it neteyam. you worry me whenever you come back injured. just knowing you get injured, makes me worry you are not going to come back to me at all.” you explained. you didn’t break the eye contact at all. you wanted him to know how you felt.

“i-“ he started to say but was interrupted by you.

“no. i need you to listen to me… because i’m only going to say this once. i care for you deeply, and you have always known that. however, the way i feel now about you… it’s.. i- i don’t know how to describe it. it’s deeper than how i felt before .” you struggled to say.

“I see you neteyam. and if you don’t see me that’s ok! but I need to tell you now before you get severely injured and don’t come back to me. i needed to tell you before i lost my chance.” you stated as you maintained eye contact with him. a small grin on your face knowing you had finally said how you felt.

neteyam was speechless. he didn’t know how to put how he was feeling into words, so he did the next best thing. he used actions instead of words.

he gently cupped your jaw and brought you into a passionate yet soft kiss. all of the emotions he struggled to come to terms to, finally bubbled to the surface and declared themselves into the kiss.

you kiss him back with an equal amount of passion. as the two of you parted, your foreheads are touching, slightly panting due to lack of air.

“I see you y/n.” he says. he sighed softly and smiled “it feels amazing to finally say that.” y/n laughed a little under her breath.

“this might be random, but do you remember that desk we made a few years back… about a race to the Tree of Voices” she questioned.

“….yes. why..? are you saying you want to race now?” neteyam wondered with wide eyes.

“i’m saying that we should go visit the Tree of Voices. if someone gets there first than i guess that’s good for them! i’m just saying… we should go see it again.” she said as she gently ran her hands down his chest.

neteyam shuttered as a chill ran up his tail to the back of his spine. he then slowly looked into her eyes with a small smirk on his face. “are trying to get me alone y/n?” he smugly questioned.

“maybe…” she smirked as she slowly stood up to make her way towards the exit of her tent. her tail flickering back and forth to show her playfulness.

neteyam sat in shock as he watched his long time crush leave her tent. his eyes still wide as can be when he realized he might’ve found his mate that eywa has sent to him.

——————skip to the Tree of Voices——————

the two walked hand in hand towards the glowing bioluminescent tree. y/n then reached behind her to connect her queue to the tree. as she did she closed her eyes to focus on the voices, not noticing neteyam admiring her.

“you know, this is where eywa tells most na’vi who they’re destined to be with..” she started with her eyes still closed. “do you think she would tell us now..?”

neteyam softly disconnected her queue and grasped her shoulders. he slowly turned her to face him and cupped her jaw with a hand on her waist. “i don’t need eywa to tell me who my mate is” he started to say “i already found someone for me.. if she’ll have me?” he whispered.

y/n had a giant smile break out on her face as she slightly leaned in towards him. “she already chose you a while ago” she stated

his ears twitched in anticipation as she leaned in closer to his lips. the two then closed the gap with y/n’s hands running up and down his chest as his tightened on her waist.

neteyam than kneeled down, brining her into his lap as he softly broke the kiss. he then made eye contact with her, reaching his hand around his head to grab his queue, slowly bringing it around to where the two met. y/n then grabbed her queue and gently brought the two together. the moment the two connect, their pupils dilated as they let out a heavy breath as if they have been underwater for weeks upon end.

neteyam then crashed their lips together in a fiery moment of passion. the two spent the night relishing in the emotions the two now shared as one.

the two were no longer separate halves of souls trying to find their other half. they were now mated as one. and one they shall be forever until eywa decided it would be their time. the two made their love known before the Tree of Voices.

the two that could never be separated when they were younger, cannot be separated ever again. for the two we’re now one soul, one being, one love that shall be shared for the end of time.

————————————————————————

hopefully this was ok for everyone! i’m going to take my time and go back through everything i’ve written so far and edit it, just because i feel like they look as if they have been rushed? idek. if anyone finds a mistake in my writing pls let me know so i can fix it ASAP!!~S

[forthelostones]

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ➺ 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #3

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. everyone wow thank you so much for the love on for your eyes only! it means so much. here’s something a little different, hope you enjoy. any requests don’t hesitate to drop ‘em, xx jstar.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. what a diff'rence a day made by dinah washington ♫

Today had been overwhelming, to say the least, you thought to yourself as the woman bent over the center consul to retrieve something out of her bag. Her ass was firmly hugged by the cargos she wore and you had the temptation to press your hips against her. You found your lips back between your teeth only to relieve them as she looked down at you. Her mouth was slightly damp from the swipe of a tongue before she spoke. This was fucked up, right? Ogling over a woman older than you but more so another woman when you had Ellie. 

“Should I bring anything?” You asked. 

“Just yourself, a few pictures and I’ll bring my research too.” 

She leaned against the shining truck with such machismo that it made you want to submit to her. Ellie never made you feel that way. Was it the heat causing the delirium?

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You mutter, trying to think of something other than her arms and how they’re delicately crossed enough to lift and frame her petite breasts. 

She raised her eyebrows to say a quiet goodbye with a side smirk and you avoided her eyes and continued walking. A weight sank to the bottom of your ankles making it seem like you were slugging through mud. Abby looked more excited pounding a nail into wood than speaking to you. Her face had a general exhaustion as if she was translating adult words to a baby. For the first time since being home, you wished the neighborhood had a little more clamor to distract you from the turmoil pooling in your brain. 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

Ellie was in your shower, washing the dirt from today’s job off her body. The door was open and the pale bubbles on her skin should entice you to jump in with her. But you just watched and wondered what was changing? When you first got together all you wanted to do was be in her skin. Generally, it felt good to be with Ellie. To know that you can achieve a level of companionship with someone else was accomplishment enough. 

“Hey,” she hollers over the falling water. “C’mere.” 

The drop of her voice was soft like her wet hair with shampoo still looped between her inky strands. 

“El, turn around.” 

She turns without hesitating, as you tilt her chin back to rinse out the suds. She opens her eyes and brings her lips to yours. For a moment it does feel good. Her mouth is slick and warm. Ellie's hands come to your shoulders, wet with body wash as she deepens the kiss. Although the water splashes onto the floor, you don’t care, it’ll be replaced soon anyway. Your mind dots off to think about Abby in your bedroom this morning. It was foreign seeing her in a space where you never imagined her to be. She looked out of place but had the potential to fit in. 

Ellie laces her hands behind your neck, tongue sliding inside with no force. She moans gently into your mouth and you bring your hand to her darkened crotch. Her kiss became carnivorous at the sudden action. Nails sharpening into skin, barring her teeth, and soggy smacking. It had been so long since you initiated any contact with her. The groan that vibrated off the walls showed that too. 

“I love you.” She whispers into your ear. 

Her mouth lingers there, waiting for your response, but something chokes you up. Like a cough or a sickened throat. “You’re my everything El.” You reply. 

It wasn’t a lie, you loved Ellie for everything she was. But you knew she could sense a change in your behavior and you hoped that this orgasm you were giving to her would hold off her suspicion. 

Ellie looked out the window and watched the neighbors follow their decades-old routines. She liked their displays of solitude and never failed to tell you about how she wanted that too. You came up beside her, holding the small of her back, peering towards the line of cherry trucks, wondering what Abby was up to now. Ellie turns to place a welcoming kiss on your cheek with her hand following shortly behind. 

“I’m sorry.” She said. 

“Ellie, what?” 

“I’m thinking too far into the future. I know I need to be present with you.” 

You scoff. “I’m just a little stressed. Has nothing to do with you, you're perfect.” 

“Let's talk,” 

You both travel to the bed and she takes your fingers into her hands. 

“It’s a lot. I just want to be here with you.” You lean in to kiss her. 

“You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.” 

It was unusual for you to put yourself onto Ellie like this but you did, again. Pulling her pants to the floor after you got up and locked the door. You wanted her to shut up and three fingers were the solution. You closed your eyes with your face buried into her hot collarbone, wishing it was someone else’s, not particularly Abby’s but not Ellie’s. A rupture of tears threatened to spill over as Ellie came to a climax, covering her mouth with a quivering hand. She turned to you just before any tears fell as you excused yourself to the bathroom. 

You started to think about the conversations you and Ellie had often, which always led to the same thing. Someone gripping the bed frame and falling asleep to do it again the next day. Even with Ellie snoring on your shoulder amongst the orchestrated noises of bird chirps and lawnmowers, all you could think of was your meeting with Abigail tomorrow.  

The night seemed long as you carefully removed Ellie from your body to tidy your room. It was more than embarrassing that Abby came into your room and almost fell over because of the mess. You didn’t have the will to start unboxing your college life because that meant it was time to face reality. As you sorted the items, you thought about what someone like Abby enjoyed doing outside of working 10-hour days. Obviously, she worked out, probably more out of necessity to keep her figure at her age. What else did she like? Your hands dust off a cover of Carmilla, and you stifle your laugh as you recall the story of blood lust and women. Ellie never understood your desire to read. She didn’t understand much about you, not that you wanted to think about that often. 

Dating someone who took the trade school route versus college has created tension in your relationship. Ellie was a smart girl who knew what she wanted but never related to your stress in college. She was street smart, not book smart. When midterms rolled around you had to explain to her the importance that you two keep distance so you can focus. She accused you of desiring a connection with college more than her. She was insecure that you got to experience something she always imagined. Before you two were dating she would sit in the bar and brag about how she didn’t need school to be successful, as a way to flirt, but it came off as ignorance. So, that translated in various ways such as conversations about your career, the relationship, and even books.

She would kiss your neck to get the attention back on her when you read before bed. When you playful shoved you away that’s when she’d ice you out for hours. It was exhausting. Ellie wanted you to be hers in a different way. She did celebrate you and you appreciated that but there was an unspoken desire for you to be her wife in a traditional sense. She wanted you to follow her, no matter what. She was shocked when you denied her immediate advances to move away with her for the new job. 

“I thought you loved me? I thought we were going somewhere?” Her brow furrowed. 

“We are, I promise but I can’t just do what you want and not discover who I am before settling down.” 

I’m your idea of settling, huh? She said quietly to herself but you pretended not to hear her.

“I want us to be together. I don’t like that long-distance shit, okay?” 

You wanted to challenge her more but just sat quietly and you two didn’t speak on it for the rest of the day, proceeding as if what happened didn’t warrant more conversation. Shortly after Ellie's hands were between your legs to apologize. That's just the way you two operated.

Ellie stirs under the loose sheet and you dart your eyes over to her. You pull out more books and line them up against the wall getting startled by your phone vibrating on your side table.

1:30 AM: Would it be a bother for you to provide some shades of black and gold with your findings too? 

You look at Ellie with her mouth open and body pressed deeply into the mattress before replying. Normal business hours were not a thing to Ms. Anderson, obviously. A message at 1 am caused you to squirm a little, and a shocking edge of exhilaration coursed through your body. Any normal person would simply reply in the morning but it wasn’t as simple as that. 

1:32 AM: not at all. 

1:32 AM: Thank you :) 

Your eyes become one with the typed emoticon. As if Abby's eyes are the colons and pooling deep blue right before you. Something so simple but it made a part of you grin. A rush came through your body as you looked out the dark window, hoping she'd magically appear outside your window, and beckon you to come outside. Such immature thoughts, you whispered to yourself.

1:34 AM: no problem, have a good night. 

She just left the message on read. That feeling you had vanished quicker than it came. That was stupid, you thought as Ellie mumbled a string of unintelligible words. She sits up, stretching her legs by throwing her feet over the edge of the bed and shuffling over to you. You lock your phone and place it back in its original place, face down. 

“Come on, I need you. I just got so cold.” She demands, holding your waist.

You didn’t tell Ellie about the consultation with Abby, it wasn’t needed. She would be at work and you’d go to her place just after the meeting. You didn't feel compelled to share, so you didn't. To keep yourself busy you broke down all the leftover boxes and took them outside to the recycling. Only one truck was parked on your street. You shrugged like you didn't care but you grew curious about where Ms. Anderson spent her morning.

Abby’s office was only thirty minutes away and you drove slow to not seem as eager and still arrived on time. A large bubble felt as if it was going to pop any moment when you saw her truck in the driveway. Her office was her house. She lived at the peak of a dead-end road covered by the twinkling of leaves above her home. Any normal person would let the collection of branches and acorns rot in the street but as a woman who owns a landscaping business, it was the opposite. Even the carving of the bushes left you in awe — you couldn’t believe you suddenly took such an interest in bushes. She had the address printed onto a rectangular yard lantern surrounded by a pool of ruby-red roses. It was beautiful. 

The door swings open as you’re tilted downwards smelling the flowers in front of you. You were slightly embarrassed she caught you and removed your hand from the stem. She squints with what you see is a small grin and welcomes you in. The scent emitting from her house is syrupy vanilla and pine. A combination that's pungent yet sweet. Abby is wearing dark blue jeans and a white button-down shirt with her skin exposed underneath, just shy of two undone buttons. Against the white linen, her skin is specked with brown freckles that deepen her slightly warm skin. Her hair had been brushed and bone straight with grown-out layers you didn’t get to see with her hair up. 

“Hope it wasn’t too scary finding the place.” She says, being the personification of sunshine. 

You look down at her feet, covered in Superman socks hidden under the cuff of her long jeans. 

“Not at all, it’s nice that you have this little section of the neighborhood all to yourself.” You add, slipping your shoes off in front of the entrance. Her body is warm behind yours as she moves to close the door. Her living room was small but the floor-to-ceiling oak bookshelves were an impressive use of space. The couch is in the middle of the room, peeling with softened worn leather. Instead of a TV, there was an out-of-commission fireplace with a mantle above it. There were a few photos in mismatched frames and stacked books with titles you could not read. 

“I was super lucky when I found it.” 

You were scared to turn to her but finally did. With her hands on her hips, she nodded for you to follow her into the other room. You took a swift look into her kitchen before turning left down the hallway to her office. It was painted a pale yellow with black and white portraits in black frames of houses she remodeled. The large wooden desk was pushed against the far wall, peering over the backyard. The sun shuttered through the leaves casting a beautiful shadow onto the healthy, neon-green lawn. Abby built the fence and had a garden bed in the far corner, a compost hidden near a bush, and one lone white lounge lawn chair in the middle of it all. Another wall of books crowded the room with words on architecture and lifestyle. 

“I would love to live here,” You mutter, turning towards Abby leaning in the door frame. She admires her handiwork which makes you wonder how much of this house she remodeled. “Seems… peaceful.” 

“It is when you can enjoy it. I’m looking to move out of the hands-on position to being the big boss behind the desk.” 

“I am sure you’ll have no problems with that.” You reply, observing the plain floorboards to avoid her eyes. 

“Would you like something to drink?” She asks. 

You notice her thumbs rotating within each other and her mouth twisting as she asks you the question. You welcome whatever she’d like to bring you, hoping it was wine to loosen her, but knowing it wouldn’t be. But seeing her so casually made you relax a little. You sat at her desk, legs crossed, looking at the seclusion of her life. This was a level of solitude you could become accustomed to. 

“Arnold Palmer. I hope you like it. One of my neighbors has a lemon tree and she brings them to me all the time, so it may be a bit tart.” She reaches behind you to place the glass on your right side, the flowing linen brushes your back gently, leaving you desiring more. She pulls out another chair and a folder stuffed in the drawer with your last name on it. 

“So, black and gold?” She asked, with a joking charisma. 

You bring the glass up to your lips and turn to her, swiping your tongue on your tangy bottom lip. The brush of your knee against her thick pants makes you retract and slide further back on the chair to create a professional distance. Up close her eyes twinkled under the warm light stretching through the window. You felt a pool quake beneath you. Suddenly you wished you didn’t put yourself in this position. So close to her, in her home, with lingering thoughts of her bedroom plaguing your mind. You imagined all-white bedding with many soft pillows and two bedside tables. A large window overlooking the front yard and sheer blue curtains. Maybe even a small desk in the corner stacked with old books. 

“Is that boring to you?” 

“What? Black and gold? I mean no, it’s not about me.” She shrugged. 

“But I value your professional opinion.” You retort. 

Her icy eyes widen at the comment, either shocked by your directness or desire to hear what she has to say. You wipe your forehead with the back of your palm and direct your gaze to the folder in front of you. 

“Okay well, I think you should go for something more unique. Fun tiling, I can definitely have a custom vanity put in there, a standard upright shower.”

You blinked and suddenly she had a pencil in her hand, sketching on a blank sheet of graphing paper. Her lines were loose but neat, you watched how the tip of her index finger guided the graphite on the thin sheet.

[rogueshadow1124]

THE NEWS

[BATFAMILY IMAGINE SERIES]

Summary: Bruce and his wife Y/N have something to share with the boys but how would they take it?...

Word count: 1420

Warnings: none?

Bruce Wayne, eccentric billionaire of Gotham city had four sons, three of which were adopted. Y/N Wayne has been his beloved wife for six years now, she had been as good as a mother could be for the boys though they were not her own kin, she did everything for them and didnt hesitate to protect them when needed. Her life revolved around them and all four of them knew that, they adored her just as much as she adored them.

Dick moved out a couple of years ago, Y/N at first was sad since he was the one she had known the longest and he was her first 'son', she understood that he was a grown man now and he needed his own space. Jason switched between the manor and an apartment he owned, sometimes he got homesick which made him feel distressed but he always had the comfort of his 'mother' waiting for him whenever he needed.

Tim had only really just turned seventeen, he was still a child and therefore still in Bruce and Y/N's custody, he has been working hard lately due to him being in college and he's pushing through the darkness of reality to have a successful life. Then there was Damian, he was the baby of the family at the age of fourteen, though he liked to act way older than he really is, being quite mature for his age, he can also be a little broody at times but you know what some say, like father like son, right? 

At this point they had all become a big family, perfect but dysfunctional.

"How are we supposed to tell them Bruce? What if they dont take it very well?" Y/N rushed, looking up at her husband who chuckled at her anxious ness.

"Your over thinking it again darling, everything will be perfectly fine. I promise." Bruce slathered an arm around her waist and pulled into his bigger form, rubbing up and down the length of her arm with his other hand.

"Are you sure. Oh what about Damian, I'm sure he wont like this-" Her tone became more distressed as she went on, her hand coming up to rest on her heavy eyes as she let out a shaky breath.

"Dont worry about it Y/N, I'm sure the boys will be delighted. In their own ways." He stated, whispering the last part of the sentence which didnt go unheard by his wife who whined out and hit his chest several times, sending him a glare. "Hey. Everything will be fine."

The woman took a seat on the couch, groaning when she heard the loud thudding sequence of steps that were emitting for the hall. Her elbows came to rest on her knees, body slouching over while her hands held her head up, Bruce sighed lightly and sat beside her, placing and arm around her shoulder in a form of comfort.

"So what'dya wanna talk about Ma'." Jason's voice called out as he entered the room, being followed by the other three boys behind him.

"I-i just..." She wiped her hands down her jeans, looking up at the boys that were watching her nervous movements, Bruce took both of her hands in his and sent her reassuring smile when she glanced his way and nodded slightly. "Well- y-your going to be big brothers."

"W-what?" Dick and Tim squeaked, eyes widening in shock as there mouths fell a gape. They looked at each other and then to the others before facing the adults again, Y/N smiled sheepishly and Bruce arched a brow at them motioning towards the woman who shook in anxious ness.

"Y-your pregnant?" Jason heaved out, a small smile coming to his lips when he looked towards his mother figure.

"Yeah..." Y/N stood up from her place on the couch, along with Bruce who was still trying to comfort her as she was still a little shaky from the nervousness. Her eyes trailed over the boys and fell on Damian who had a neutral look on his face, no emotion present. "D-dami?"

The boy looked at her for split second with squinted eyes before spinning on his heel and rushing out of the room. A hard clutter of footsteps could behead thumping up the stairs, a few seconds later the sound of a door slamming shout could be heard.

"Mum are you-" Tim stepped forwards, looking at the woman with worry in his eyes as he saw the tears start to gather in her own. She shook her head, smiling at him with a sniffle.

She whispered a 'yes' looking back at Bruce momentarily the proceeded to walk away from him, passing the boys to exit the lounge area. Her eyes peered up to the landing, a heavy breath passing her lips when she started to make her way up the stairs.

She hopped up them quickly, strolling down the landing to the end where Damians room was. Her hand rose to the dark oak, hesitation hitting her but she pushed aside the sad feeling that she had felt and knocked on the door three times, hearing shuffling before the door swung open to reveal the small ravenette. Damian held eye contact with the woman intensely, tilting his head to the side. He sighed, rolling his eyes and walked backwards into his room, leaving the door open which was a silent way fo telling her she could enter if she wanted to.

"Dami, i-i never meant to upset you-"

"I'm not upset." He cut her off, turning around to look at her. His blue orbs widened when he saw tears returning to her eyes, a feeling of guilt seeping through the barrier he held. "Al'umu?"

"I'm sorry Damian, really I am." She muttered, wiping her eyes and attempted to send a smile his way but failed immensely when her bottom lip began to tremble, a burn setting in the back of her throat as she tried to hold back the tears.

"Theres nothing to be sorry for Al'umu, I just appear to- to feel jealous." Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion, Damian looked down in shame, falling back to sit on the edge of his bed as he grumbled a few curses under his breath.

"I dont understand." She walked over to his bed and crouched down infront of him, raising a hand to push the pieces of hair away so they disnt block his face. She brushed a finger of his cheek, lifting up his chin so he looked at her. "I need you to know, you can never be replaced Dami. I wont allow that to happen, you'll still always be important just as much as the others and this baby."

"But-"

"No Damian, sure at first the baby will need alot of attention but I wont allow any of you boys to feel left out. Besides, you'll always my baby Wayne, Dame." Y/N stood up, pulling the boy with her, bringing him into het embrace which he accepted right away. She placed a kiss at the top of his head and brought him in closer, chuckling when he snuggled closer.

"Aw- who'da thought Demon was soft." Jason's voice echoed through the room making the two look towards the archway, spotting Jason along with Bruce and the other two boys whi smiled at the sight before them.

"Shut it Todd. Fuck you, I'm not soft." Damian went to pull away from Y/N but was pulled back into the hug, much to his dismay as he didnt want anyone to see him in this 'state'.

"You want a hug too Jay?" She tilted her head with a smirk, letting Damian free from her grasp. Her eyes squinted at the second oldest who frowned and looked at her but ended up nodding walking towards her and encasing her in his arms.

"Group hug!" Dick called out, grabbing Tim's arm and rushed to join the hug. Y/N chuckled reaching an arm out to the side, pulling the two boys in. Damian was now stuck at her side since Dick and Tim were blocking his exit.

"C'mon Bruce." The man scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully before making his way towards the crowding hug. He walked around to the back so his chest was against Y/N's back and he wrapped his arms around the boys, smiling at the moment they are having together at this time.

[n04hfiction]

Girl Dad Huskerdust HCs

Content/Warnings (If applicable) : fem!implied reader, profanity, daughter!reader goes to the age ranges of a young toddler to a teenager, brief mentions of alcohol + profanity

Proofread? : ✅

A/n : I think it’s a serious problem that I have parental HCs for nearly every Hellaverse character. I need to be stopped. (Or don’t, I don’t care)

Honestly, depending on your age, the “stricter” father definitely flip-flops here and there

For instance, when you are a young child, Angel is the “stricter” father, even if you don’t have the concept to understand what that entirely means, he’s the one who baby-proofs every thing while Husk kinda lets you run wild

But as you grow and get into your teen years, Angel becomes a lot more laid back, while Husk tends to be more picky about what he allows you to do

Mainly because Husk never imagined himself as a father, so in the beginning, he is sorta unsure, so for him, anything goes, but as you start to age he gets a grip and with that, comes strictness

When you are a younger child, Angel is 100% dressing you until you decide to do that on your own (part of him hopes you’ll let him dress you forever). He’s very protective of you when you’re a toddler/younger child, Hell isn’t always a safe place, everything even slightly unsafe or tempting is gated or baby-proofed

As you age, like I said, Ange is much more lenient. He’s ready to watch you rock the world! Wanna go out to a party? For sure! Be home by 2, go nuts! Have a crush? Great! Your old man will help ya out! Wanna get drunk as fuck? Fine, just do it in the house!

Honestly, Husk is a bit of a confusing father, to say the least. He’s lowkey freaked out by the idea of toddlers and younger children, so when you’re in your first few years he lets Angel take the lead, he kinda watched and observes his behaviors.

Which leads Husk to being more cautious of a parent as an adult (Learned from his hubby, that’s for sure). Even though him and Angel are far from over, he’s still very cautious about the idea of love, so he’s very sketchy about your relationships with boys (or girls! He doesn’t judge!)

When events like your first day of school, first boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, first heartbreak, homecoming, prom, etc - You may think Angel is the one to get emotional, but it’s actually Husk - Angel is just as excited as you are, getting you dolled up and whipping out his camera to take pictures, but deep down, Husk is honestly sad that his baby girl is growing up - Especially cause he was too tense in the beginning to really enjoy your younger years

Seriously though, Husk is happy you’re a bit older, he feels like he’s able to have more of a connection with you. He likes it when you come to the bar and just sit there and talk, even if you’re only drinking a juice box.

Husk still doesn’t know how to talk with a teenager all that well, but he’ll ask you how school is, and how you’re friends are, he wants to show that he takes a genuine interest in the other aspects of your life.

Angel on the other hand is very eager to walk with you through your teenage years, he’s the dad that all of your friends think is cool as fuck, but you think he’s crazy embarrassing. He’s the kind of dad to also be friends with your friends. He’ll come in your room during sleepovers and do your friends makeup, skincare, nails, ect

Despite the fact that Angel does pretty much let you run wild once you get older, he’s very strict on safety, in every aspect. - He doesn’t want you to get fucked over like he did, and he doesn’t want that to destroy you, he really does try his best to guide you on a different path, any path that isn’t the one he fell down

[neuroprincess]

So I’ve got an idea for a Schmentti family request.

Luca meeting his baby sister for the first time.

Like I feel that it would be the cutest thing ever. And you would write it so well! Just an idea, I love this series so much!

Hi sweetie! Hope it met your expectations. And thank you for your request ♡ oh that's very sweet and kind of you ^^

LuLu's Sissy - Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Summary: After a long week Olivia is finally home to meet her older brother, but Luca's reaction is not at all what they expected.

Classification: Domestic fluff

Warnings: Breastfeeding (?)

Word count: +2300

Unrevised

When the couple came through the front door, they hoped that their firstborn would be taking one of the dozens of naps he takes during the day or too busy trying to catch Barb's eye to notice their arrival. Sweet illusion! As soon as Melissa turned the key, they could hear the quick little footsteps running towards them, along with the playful giggles of someone who had done something fun. It didn't take long for the boy to wrap his arms around the older woman's legs, almost knocking her over in the process, without much idea of how big and strong he had become over the last few months. As well as being bigger than expected for age and than his kindergarten friends, Luca is an affectionate little bear who loves physical touch, tight hugs and curling up wherever he can in search of a comfortable lap, something he always gets from his mothers, no matter the situation. But this time the attempt is frustrated, the teacher's arms are full of maternity bags and some of the presents that were left at the hospital, while Y/N balances the baby comforter where the new addition to the family sleeps peacefully, oblivious to the commotion around her.

"Good morning, my little man!" Melissa greets in a loving whisper, dropping off all the items on the nearest armchair, the short journey from the car to there was enough to give her a slight backache "Did you behave today? Or did you give your godmother a hard time?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

With usual childlike honesty, the boy just shakes his head "no," then nods "yes," his chubby cheeks quickly taking on a rosy hue, showing he's a little embarrassed, which draws a laugh from the adults in the room. He's still dressed in dinosaur pyjamas, and his coppery hair is slightly messy, the ends forming adorable curls.

"It's all right! We'll give you a pass for being cute. Now, are you ready to meet your little sister?"

"Mama..." he points to the large pink item, still covered in a thin patterned blanket, curious "Momma!" then calls out to the youngest, who, since he started forming sentences, has also been able to distinguish them. Mama and Mama Mel are obviously for Melissa; Momma and Mum for Y/N; Mummy for both and on rare occasions.

"Yes, sweetheart?" she asks, crouching down to her son's height, watching his olive eyes light up in realization.

"My Sissy?"

Barb, who has just finished organizing some children's books previously scattered on the coffee table, observes the interaction between the little family. Her godson, usually agitated and not very tactful, walks on tiptoe and puts a little finger in front of curved lips, repeating "Shhh" so that everyone is silent as he tries to get closer, just as she taught him hours before. After a long week under observation, the newborn was finally released to go home, miraculously without sequelae or any complications, to the relief and joy of her moms. She can say with certainty that it was the worst week of her friend's life.

Nothing compares to the moment Olivia Ann came into the world, giving everyone a fright, premature, small enough to fit in a shoebox and asleep, making the redhead's heart skip beats and her blood run cold. After the scare came the worry, it was a terrifying experience in every respect and both hesitated even to hold her, she seemed so fragile, as if she were made of glass, and any wrong move could break her. Neither of them got enough sleep and never stopped worrying until Liv finally reached the ideal weight for her eagerly awaited release. Her eyes meet her friend's and they share an affectionate look, full of gratitude and pride.

"I wanna see her!"Luca speaks a little louder, jumping up and down in excitement, barely able to contain himself "I want my Sissy."

"You'll see her soon, LuLu." Y/N assures him and is about to pull up the blanket to finally show him his little sister when she starts mumbling, which soon turns into a loud cry, potent for a small human being "Oh, I think Liv's hungry."

"Sissy want cookies?"

"No, bambino." Melissa strokes his cheeks and picks him up so that he's at their height "She doesn't have any teeth yet."

The boy grimaces in disgust and then laughs at the thought of someone with no teeth, it sounds too silly, especially for someone who bites everything, like him. Teeth are essential! This makes him even more curious. It took a while for the toddler to understand what a sibling is and that he would soon have one, just as it took him a while to understand the concept of babies, since for Luca he is still one. And it's for this reason that he is shocked when the blanket is pulled back to reveal the newborn, about the size of his teddy bears, incredibly red and screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Mommy! Aunt Barb! Sissy a chicken?"he asks, wide-eyed "Sissy ugly." and concludes, knitting his eyebrows together, it's not what he was expecting.

They burst into laughter, of all the reactions and expectations they had, this was the most surprising and funny. He stares at them in confusion, he doesn't see how this is funny, this can't be his Sissy, can it?

"No, no, love." Barbara manages to say between laughs and moves closer, helping the younger with the baby comfort "She's only small, babies are like that when they're born."

"Ugly?"

"You think that Olivia is ugly?" Mel is amused and hugs him, stroking the full hair as he nods positively "Well, amore mio, you looked just like her when you were born."

"No! No!" the boy is indignant, refusing to believe it "LuLu is cute!"

"So Olivia is cute?"

The question confuses him, and thinking hard with the unique reasoning of a two-year-old, he shakes his head "no" again.

"Sissy is ugly!"

He lays head down on his mother's chest, hiding an annoyed pout, and watches as the pair take the little girl out of the accessory, then place her on Y/N's lap so that she can be breastfed. Of course, the child doesn't know what he's feeling, it's something that bubbles in the pit of the stomach and may be quite irrational, but Luca quickly becomes jealous. Until a few months ago he was the one on his Momma's lap and could feed himself to his heart's content, until this was taken away from him, between small bribes and a lot of patience. Only now to be replaced by a newcomer who, in his view, is stealing what belongs to him.

It doesn't take long for Luca to start grumbling and squirming until he escapes from the redhead's arms.

"Aunt Barb! No!" he asks his godmother for help, pointing to Y/N who is sitting on the sofa, crying when the woman doesn't do what he wants "I want my Momma too!"

Melissa sighs and exchanges a sympathetic look with her wife; they know that this adaptation phase is going to be difficult for the little one. Despite his personality and all the preparation they have done for the arrival of their second child, nothing changes the fact, already proven to be hereditary, that Luca Schemmenti is jealous by nature. He's had all the attention on himself so far and isn't used to sharing, least of all the most important things in his life, his moms.

"You'll always be our baby, LuLu. Our prince. But now Liv needs us, Mama and Momma will take care of her too, just like we take care of you, caro. She's our family, mine, yours, ours." she whispers and strokes his flushed face, wiping away the tears running down cheeks "And you have a very important role now, you're a big brother."

"And do you know what big brothers do?" Y/N continues, he denies it, the crying ceasing in sobs "Big brothers learn to share, they also protect and love their little siblings A LOT."

"I don't wanna share my Momma!" he insists and rushes over to the youngest, hugging her legs as she straddles the daughter who immediately starts sucking desperately on her nipple. "You're mine!"

"LuLu, I'll always be yours, but I'm also of Liv, of Mama too."

"My Mama?"

"Yours."

"Liv hers too?"

"Yes, bambino." Melissa sits down on the sofa and pulls him onto her lap again.

"And Liv mine?"

"Yes, your little sister, your Sissy."

Only then the boy realizes how close he is to her and maybe she doesn't look so ugly when not crying. She yawns, showing her gums without any teeth, and it brings a smile to his face. It's really funny. He bites the inside of his lip, trying to take in the concept that, after months of hearing about Olivia, she's finally here. It's not what he expected, the complete opposite, and although it's frustrating, it's still his.

He nods, showing that he's understood what he's being told.

"Do you want to touch her?"

Luca nods again, still unsure, and brings a hesitant hand close to Olivia's tiny feet. He remembers how mommies always tickle him before bed, it's fun and always makes him happy. With a smile and not so shy anymore, he tries to replicate the gesture, little fingers dancing in search of a few laughs, but before anything can be done, Melissa gently holds his arms.

"Careful, LuLu." she says softly, placing a kiss on his forehead "She's very, very, very small, Liv isn't ready to be tickled like you yet."

"Cause I'm big boy?" the question is ambiguous and they don't understand whether he sees it as a good or a bad thing.

"Yes, love! Because only big boys get fun tickles from their mommies." Barb sidesteps the situation and sits down in the armchair opposite the Schemmenti, leaning over to continue talking to her godson "And when your sister grows up, you'll be able to give her lots of tickles."

"Okay..."

The toddler makes a stubborn little peck, but it doesn't last long as he is pulled closer by the redhead, his chubby arms wrap around her neck and gives her a kiss on the chin, only to hide his face in the crook of her neck. He absolutely loves Melissa's perfume and playing with her necklaces, calms down and makes him feel safe.

When Olivia has finished feeding, a time that seemed like an eternity of torture to him, Y/N carefully settles the newborn on her lap so that their son can see her better, a difficult task considering that, like the firstborn, she can be very demanding in some ways. Liv, satiated, opens her little eyes for the first time since they arrived home and Luca, amazed, leans in for a closer look, full of curiosity. It's fascinating, he watches all her little reactions, from one of the spasms that make her smile to her sleepy stretching.

"Amore mio, you can't tickle her, but you can hold her hand, do you want to do that?"

This makes him happy and without a second thought he gently touches the baby's little hand, which closes around his fingers instantly. The boy opens a surprised and genuine smile, beginning to accept and understand that this small, strange and slightly ugly person is his sister, whom he has been waiting for long months. Barb, watching the scene with a warm smile, can't resist taking out her smartphone and recording the moment. She takes a few photos, capturing Luca's cute expressions that oscillate between curiosity and a growing affection for Olivia. Melissa and Y/N stare at each other, thrilled to see the connection forming between the two, immersed in this unique little moment, their two children officially getting to know each other.

"See, LuLu? She already likes you," the youngest encourages him, running a hand through their son's hair, curling one of the soft locks.

"I like her. My Sissy."

"Yes, Luca," Melissa agrees, hugging the boy "Your Sissy, forever."

He snuggles closer into Mel's embrace, letting out a satisfied sigh. The siblings' hands are still together, his little fingers caressing her soft skin, a very common little gesture of affection that he always shows to those he loves, a detail that doesn't go unnoticed by women, a sign that, despite the initial shock, he has begun to understand the significance of this new addition to the family. This fact warms their hearts, the little family is complete with the arrival of Olivia Ann.

Until a few years ago, the eldest had never imagined the possibility of motherhood and now she is the mom of two little angels, gifts from her wife, someone who has given her a new perspective and chance in life. For a brief moment, she almost wanted to follow in her parents' footsteps and have a baseball team of her own, but only if they came from Y/N. The house she bought, when still married to Joe, never felt like a home until she entered her life, her treasure, gradually making it more complete, all her baggage with Melissa's constituting a beautiful marriage, which years later brought Luca and was completed with Olivia. The once empty walls are filled with family photos, the floor with toys and children's books, a soft smell of freshly baked cookies comes from the kitchen and the sun illuminates the living room, every corner and detail filled with love in one of those perfect moments that you want to keep in mind for eternity.

Y/N smiles as she realizes how far away the other is in her thoughts and leans in to join their lips in a tender kiss, both are tired, a little sleepy and extremely proud of the family they have built for themselves. It hasn't been easy and it won't be as their gremlins grow up, but all the challenges and rewards of motherhood along with the life shared with Melissa is something she wouldn't trade for anything in this and other worlds.

Suddenly, Luca's curious little voice broke the silence of the sweet moment.

"Momma, when Liv go her home?"

taglist: @opheliauniverse @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @wastdstime @scarr0713 @geekyandgay98 @dvrkhcld @heidss @esposadejoyhuerta @xvyzxx @quailbagutte @imaginesmultifandoms @ctrlamira @milffilm @taurus-baby-34 @prentiss-theorem @josephinevr @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @serendipitouswanderer @louderfortheback @h-doodles @Hotdoggitydammit @peggy082023 @le0vo1dz @lilfartbox1 @imgayforwoman69 @janeyseymour @hwppnes @storiesofsvu @zacs-obsessed @evilaam @evattude @tmlwattpad19 @willowshadenox @gweninred

Join my taglist here ^^

Schemmenti Family Masterlist

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

thinking about harrow and gideon as teeny little children.

like. the adults around them were never going to let them be friends, right? harrow's parents and crux were never going to put up with that. but i'll bet there was a moment, when they were small children, when they could've turned it around and just been friends. but of course they weren't allowed to.

like, here's the thing about toddlers: they kinda suck sometimes. all of them do, and it's usually not their fault. they don't have a developed sense of empathy or consequences yet, and they can't regulate their emotions very well. they're selfish and egocentric and short-sighted. they don't fully grasp concepts like sharing or delayed gratification. they have to be taught these things. it's the responsibility of the adults around them to help them practice and understand. and if they don't...well.

imagine you're tiny harrow. and you realize, one day, that if tiny gideon has something you want, then you're allowed to just take it and nobody cares. meanwhile, all of your things are sacred and protected by the adults around you. also, you're curious. you're learning about people and feelings and cause and effect. and so you start to pick on her, experimentally, as is natural for kids around that age. and you quickly come to understand that you can do whatever you want to her, and nobody will stop you. but if she retaliates, she gets in trouble. you would have to be one hell of an emotionally advanced toddler not to become a fucking terror to live with.

and that's not even mentioning how the adults around them treated gideon. harrow's primary caretaker and role model was fucking crux for jod's sake. and little kids love to copy behaviors and play and help even more than they love to steal. if the adults around you treat one particular person like shit, then you will inevitably learn to do the same.

also, gideon saying that baby harrow saw her as, quote, "an object of tormentable fascination" is weirdly heartbreaking to me? like yeah, harrow was probably The Worst as a little kid, for reasons already explored. but also, there was only one other child in her life. one other child, who was just close enough to her age to identify with, but also slightly older than her, by just enough months to be cool. i'll fucking bet harrow was obsessed with her. they were both lonely and bored and they had never been taught how to make friends or be nice to people. i'll bet they learned to fight like that. harrow following her around, just trying to get her attention, not knowing how else to do it.

the fact that griddle is very obviously babytalk too...it just fuckin gets me. harrow has been trying to say gideon's name since before she could properly form the syllables. she said gid-oh. what do you wanna bet it was one of the first words she tried to figure out how to say.

obviously, none of this justifies what came next. this isn't a harrowhark apologetics post. i'm not trying to like...woobify her or something. none of this emotional rambling about her toddlerhood absolves her of responsibility for shit she did as a teenager. but still. god i get emotional when i think about harrow and gideon as little kids. they were so lonely and they had no positive role models and they were completely fucked over by the adults around them and i am going to cry.

[cartierdreamx]

HER MUSE (18+)

hi my little honey bunches! i hope your weekend was amazing and that this week brings you joy, laughter and love, as promised, this is my 400 follower smut oneshot special!!! congrats to @tamberandwenclairenjoyer for guessing my name but definitely a special shout out to those who tried so so hard to guess, and wow you guys tried hard, and a big shout out to you, my fellow readers <3 i may not be the biggest writer or get a lot of notes (it’s a hit or miss most times), but i wouldn’t be here with my little family if it weren’t for you, so thank you <3 i appreciate every single one of you and am 4ever grateful you enjoy my work. J <333

to my beautiful muse, @talialeih 🤍

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader 

Warnings: SMUT, just pure filthy smut, the filthiest thing i have ever written, possessive jenna. 

Summary: sometimes you seem to forget that you’re hers and only hers. 

Words: 5k+ 

This fic is STRICTLY 18+, as it involves adult themes, minors DNI, you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment, which this fic falls under, so one last warning- this fic is 18+. Thank you!

*though my fics have real people, my fics are just for entertainment and far from reality*

~~

“Baby?” You hear a distant voice in desperation, “are you doneee?” Your beautiful yet very impatient girlfriend annunciates from the other side of your door, you can’t help but giggle at her childlike attitude, she was older than you by just a few months but sometimes you can’t help but think you’re the older one.

Placing your second earring in, you take one more look at yourself in the mirror, wink, and glide towards the door where you’re your restless love sits on the other side. Once you open the door, Jenna’s clearly annoyed facial expressions soften up, the sight of your beauty had enough force to relax her eyebrows and jaw, unhinging it from itself as she subconsciously drops her mouth wide open, you swear you see saliva build up as she salivates over you. Walking over to your girlfriend as she leans on the back of the couch, placing yourself between her legs, you close her jaw and lift it just slightly, so your eyes are locked.

“Perfection takes time.” You say as you jokingly wipe the corner of her mouth as if some of her drool escaped her lips.

“You are always perfect, mi cariño, so time is nothing.” Jenna coos at you, now caressing your waist and looking you up and down as she bites the inner tissue of her lip, making your cheeks erupt in red.

“What happened to the rush? You were practically begging me to hurry up.”

She lets out a huff, still locked on your figure, the grip she has on your waist even tighter and possessive than before, her entire body was on fire. On fire, because of you. “I don’t even think this dinner is that important, let’s just stay home and relax, I can help you take your dress off.” She mumbles trying so hard not to let you see her desperation, but it was too late, you could see how hungry she was for you, how she wanted your sweet nectar smeared all over her lips.

Lucky for her, you felt the same way, the way you longed for her slender fingers to be in you, hooking the tissue around it, her fingers were sure to be cold resulting in an extra loud gasp as you welcome her in. How you craved to sit on her lap with your arms slinged over her neck, whispering nothing but seductions into her ear making her neck hairs stand. The hunger she felt was mutual, you were just doing a better job at hiding it. Ironically, being the better actor despite you being a writer.

You tsk at her lust, “Come on baby, we can’t be late,” leaning in you tease, “maybe later you can take this off.”

Despite Jenna claiming this dinner wasn’t important and staying home would be the better choice, to absolutely no one’s surprise, not even the flies the linger in the backyard, she was lying, this was Anne Hathaway’s annual formal dinner, at first you were Jenna’s plus one but as your writing grew, as you made a name for yourself, that didn’t have Jenna plastered on it, you became a guest, just like Jenna. Of-course, being each other’s forever person, you two always went together, politely denying Anne’s generous plus one that she gave every guest.

“What car do you want to take, baby?”

“The McLaren.” You cheese at her, “can I drive?”

“Perfect choice! And no.” She cheeses back at you; except she was playfully mocking you.

Without fail Jenna always opens the door for you and guides you in whilst she holds your hand, tonight was no different, no matter the occasion she always held doors for you, ever since meeting Jenna, whenever you were with her, all the doors would be left untouched by you. “Mi princesa,” she air kisses at you when sliding into your seat, all you could do was laugh and roll your eyes.

Once in the car, your hands head straight for the radio, connecting your Bluetooth to the screen, scrolling through your endless RnB playlist you finally settle on a song.

Don’t. Don’t play with her, don’t be dishonest (ayy).

“WHEWWWW” You scream out as Jenna starts the engine, giving it a rev before she zooms off, “I LOVE THIS SONG.” You exclaim making Jenna laugh at your infatuation with this song, RnB in general. “SING IT GIRLFRAND.” You scream one last time, hoping Jenna joins in with the singing.

Though her eyes were on you now so she could sing to you, she was a great driver and had eyes everywhere so you two were always safe, “I want you bad as EVERRRR, don’t let me just let up.”

“I wanna give you better, baby, it’s whateverrrrr.” Continuing on, a few more lines of you two belting each word out as if you were front row and Bryson’s concert, you two were so in love, so filled with raw emotions and lust and you didn’t think you could melt anymore in this car but as soon as the line left hand is steerin’ the other is grippin’ your thigh, Jenna grabs your thigh almost man handling it that her fingers divots into your skin making you gasp a little and in retaliation she giggles.

You can’t help but cheese at her as your cheeks paint with blush, your eyes sparking at hers as your Fenty highlighter compliments your eyes, its colour and configuration, and once Jenna sets her gaze on you again, that same hungry look as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks, hadn’t eaten you in weeks, when in reality she was drowning in your ocean last night, the way your slick coated her lips and tongue and the way she transferred it to you as she made her way to your lips devouring every inch of your mouth, her tongue sliding down your throat.

A bunch more RnB songs later, mainly consisting of Frank Ocean and Giveon, Jenna pulls into the location mentioned in the invitation. Anne was a host genius, she never held her dinners at the same place and never served the same food, this year, the location felt so regal, like royalty, embodying and making homage to her Princess Diaries days. Though you two were at the gates waiting to get the all clear from the guards, you could see the tan palace adorned with ivy all over from the distance, at the end of a long drive way with pine trees and rose bushes on the sides.

“Wonder if they’re running by foot to Anne to get the confirmation.” Jenna jokes out considering it was taking a while for them to open the gate, as she grew even more restless by the second, that same hand that was on your thigh slowly starts making its way towards your garden making you perk up a bit as the soft ticklish feeling takes you by surprise, and as much as you wanted her to keep going, you know you can’t let her.

“Baby...” You breathe out, trying to collect your senses as her warm fingers hooks underneath an opening of your panties, her middle finger right above your now pulsating clit.

“Say please, pretty girl.” Jenna practically barks at you, your mind is telling you no, but your body is indicating the opposite, your desire for her to dive into you, two fingers in you and another rubbing circles on your clit as she marks every visible inch of you purple.

You lean into her ear, making your hips buck up so her finger was resting on your clit, making you seethed into her ear, “baby, no, be patient.” In scenarios like these, you barely said no, you two were always down, bathing in pleasure, juices and cum. Not wanting to take your ‘no’ for an answer she whispers back, her attempt to seduce you, “if you were a sin, you’d be the one I’d indulge in.” God, after that you weren’t sure how much self-control you had left, when most of the time, your sensualities would have none. But one of you had to remember what decorum is and unfortunately, it had to be you.

As you guide her hands out of your panties, you hear her sigh and “aww,” as she licks the finger that made contact with your clit, making you giggle, but before you could reassure her that she was sure to have all of you tonight, the guards finally come back with their confirmation, opening the gate.

“We apologise for the delay Ms. Ortega and Ms. l/n, but you’re all clear, welcome.” You and Jenna flash a smile as she starts driving off, acting as if they didn’t nearly witness a free show. Once Jenna puts the car in park amongst the other luxury vehicles, Bugatti, Porsche, a white Ferrari even, the same scenario played out, your door would remain untouched by you as Jenna scurries out and opens the door for you, taking your hand and kissing it as you step out.

As you walked side by side, arms linked, Jenna made sure to slow down when walking up the stretched out tan stairs that led up to the glorious door, not wanting you to slip and hurt yourself. Jenna was also in heels but not as high as yours and the fact that she was wearing a suit made it easier for her to walk, not having to worry about slipping on a floor length dress.

When you two reach the top, the double doors are opened from the inside with doormen in fashionable, yet regal suits on both sides, bowing their heads slightly as you both walked in, almost as if you two were royalty. And the first thing you noticed was the grand staircase that stretched from one side of the room to another, adorned with an emerald, green runner, complimenting the gold railings that had sculpted art attached to them going downwards. “Fucking you on that staircase would be a dream.” Jenna whispers into your ears, you’re not surprised that she’s still horny and fiending for you because you felt the same.

“Y/N! JENNA!” You both turn your heads and see Anne in this gorgeous gold gown with a matching cape that was longer than her dress, greeting you both with open arms. The two of you greet her with glee, exchanging kisses on the cheek, making jokes about how long you two waited to get in, which made her laugh too, she ushered you two where the rest of the guests were, the decadent dining room with a pure crystal chandelier hanging from above, the décor was on point like every other year, and despite the dinner being a big executive dinner, the ambiance felt warm and welcoming, seeing people you’re close with, people you’ve seen at Anne’s annual dinner and some new faces you cannot wait to meet. Anne’s hospitable nature tells you to help yourself to the giant charcuterie board that was almost as long as the the table itself, she also mentioned that not everyone was here, but dinner will commence then.

For the next twenty minutes you catch up with old friends, well, you don’t think you can consider them as friends as all they ever did was treat you like a daughter so if anything, old mother figures? You hoped to talk to more people, but you hadn’t seen Sandra and Sarah in so long, it was set in stone that you three would stick together, gossiping and devouring the soft cheeses and spicy cured meats laid out in front of you, making sure not to spoil your appetite for the main event though whilst Jenna mingled with others across the room.

Once everyone arrived, Anne had everyone find their seats, the name cards above the plates indicating where you were sitting, obviously Jenna would be sitting beside you, on your left, and then she sat Sandra and Sarah in front of you, as you go to check who would on your right, the fangirl in you jumps out as you silently squeal, grabbing Jenna’s attention.

“What is it, hermosa?” She asks all confused as to why you reacted like this.

“Does this card read Malina Weissman, or am I tripping?” Pointing to the card a few inches away from yours.

Jenna leans in past your shoulders to read the card and confirms your statement, “yes, baby, that does say Malina, what about it?” And once Jenna confirmed it, you try so hard to contain your excitement, you swear you nearly vibrate the entire room, “baby?”

“It’s Malina Weissman.” You finally manage to spit out, only making Jenna more confused and slightly threatened seeing you gush over another woman.

“Yes, it is, she’s an incredible and very underrated actress but what’s with the fangirling?”

“I used to be OBSESSED with her when I was younger, I fell in love with her and her character Violet when I watched ASOUE.”

“In love?” Jenna softly scoffs, she won’t admit it, but jealousy was plaguing her, and it was so obvious that everyone around you two were snickering, and this included, Sandra Bullock, Sarah Paulson, Helena Bonham Carter, Rihanna, AND Anne Hathaway. You glare at them, giving them a ‘don’t instigate anything’ look but you knew they would either way.

“Well, not in love, I just had a slight crush on her, that’s all.” Pouting your lips as you lift your shoulders up and down, and before she could relax and let all her worries float away, your so-called mother figures who weren’t supposed to instigate anything, INSTIGATED SOMETHING.

“Uhhh, actually,” Sarah starts, “we heard it was a big crush, lasting a few years.” You shut your eyes hopping this wouldn’t go on, but your hope wasn’t strong enough. Rih continues, “and she even wrote and published a story on Wattpad where she was a love interest and wrote herself in as the main character.”

“YOU WHAT?” Jenna raises her voice, jealousy pouring out of her ears, you start laughing even though you wanted the instigating to stop, cupping her soft face yet tensed jaw, you reassure her, “baby, it was a long time ago.”

“Oh!” Anne starts.

You crane your neck past Jenna’s head to look at her, “oh, don’t start PLEASE.”

“We forgot to mention that y/n actually posted a tik tok about how infatuated she was over her and Malina saw and liked!” You lift your palms to your face, wanting your suffering to end.

“Both tik toks.” Sandra and Helena say in unison.

Jenna looks back at you with furrowed eyebrows, “TWO?” You give the five of them death stares, a stare only a daughter would give their mother, making them sit down and start fidgeting with their plates and start engaging with each other instead.

“Baby, you have nothing to worry about, she has a boyfriend and plus she doesn’t even swing this way.” You reassure her.

She pulls you in by your waist and nibbles your ear, whispering in “you’re mine and mine only.” Making your spine stand up straight and your neck hairs stick up, along with raising goosebumps all over your exposed skin.

“I’m yours and yours only.”

Before you two could break apart, you hear a soft cough behind you, “uh, I don’t mean to interrupt this cuteness, but it seems I’ve been seated next to you.” You turn around and see a beautiful woman with brunette hair, bangs, legs for days, the bluest eyes and the softest white skin you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. Brunette and bangs, it seems like you have a type.

Your eyes light up, “hi! Sorry, it’s so nice to meet you,” you extend your hand out, “oh, get that out of here.” She softly slaps your hand out of the way and pulls you in for a tight, welcoming hug, which you gladly reciprocate, however it gets the jealousy in Jenna starting again. After introductions, well tense introductions on Jenna’s part, Anne addresses the guests and has everyone seated and excited for the first course, a seafood marinara accompanied with pieces of fresh baguette.

Once settled in, you and Malina start talking more, laughing at each other’s jokes and enjoying the delicious food plated in front of you, you didn’t mean to, but it made Jenna even more jealous, seeing her girl, her lady, her woman entertaining another. To be fair, in Jenna’s eyes, everything was exaggerated.

“NO WAY, you used to have a crush on me?” Malina asks with wide eyes.

“Yessss way, you liked my tik toks too, made me freak out so hard.”

“Ahhhh, I’m flattered really, and if I so didn’t have a boyfriend and I did like girls that way, I so would’ve asked you out.” She confesses.

Woah oh. To no one’s surprise, the instigator fives and Jenna were listening into your conversation and once the five heard what she said, they all looked at each other with yikes on their faces. Jenna on the other hand had jealousy painted all over it, red for jealousy and green for greed, the way she was so possessive over you, how she couldn’t bare seeing you being flirted with. It wasn’t toxic or anything because it didn’t hurt you, actually you found it hot and attractive. Knowing she can’t make a scene, she grits her teeth and digs into the main course a surf n turf, which included seared steaks and the biggest lobster tail your eyes set on.

Halfway through eating the main course, you feel cold slender fingers caress your thigh up and down, you try your best to ignore it as you and Mali were locked in a conversation, but the more she moves towards your pussy, the harder it is for you to hold conversation with Mali. But because luck was on your side, someone from the other side of Mali, asked her a question, which she politely paused your conversation to answer them, giving you the chance to once again guide Jenna’s hands away from your pussy.

“Jenna, come on, decorum.” Was all you could say to her before turning back to Mali as her conversation was over with the other person, the fire in Jenna was burning with jealousy and now she was starting to get mad at you, the way you keep entertaining Malina, how Malina was gawking over what’s hers.

After the food part of the dinner was over, everyone was free to roam and mingle around the palace, Jenna was quick to leave her seat but you didn’t think anything of it, instead, you and your new friend Mali decide to continue your convos while touring the place. After five minutes, you find yourself admiring this giant painting and its colours with her along with talking about other things.

“Oh my, I forgot to mention earlier, but congrats on the new season of Black Mirror!”

“OH EM GEE, you watch it?”

“YES! I’m a big fan of Black Mirror and when I found out you were writing for season six, I was so stoked, I’m a huge fan of you and your work, so this was such a cool thing to experience.”

“Well, I am flattered, thank you very much.”

“Nooo, thank you.” Both of you guys start laughing, you don’t notice that Jenna found you guys and now is walking towards you two, but Mali does.

“Ah, there she is, your muse.” Mali points to Jenna and waves hello, Jenna waving back even though her feelings were all over the place.

“Her muse,” Jenna repeats, wrapping her arm around your waist, holding onto it tightly, a lot more than usual but it felt nice so you didn’t object to it.

“I really do hate to barge into this conversation, but could I steal y/n away for a moment?”

“It’s no problem at all, please go head, go do some cute couple shit, I’ll be around.” And with that, Jenna smiles at her, and whisks you away, you didn’t even have time to collect your thoughts or say a proper bye, to be fair you thought you’d be back. But now, Jenna leads you into one of the many luxurious bathrooms and locks the door shut.

“Baby?” You ask all confuse.

“The only words that will leave your mouth next is yes ma’am.” She says, ever so dominantly.

Not wanting to piss her off even more, which clearly you have, you comply, “yes ma’am.”

“Am I yours?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Only yours?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She takes a step closer to you, pinning you up against the wall with her own body, “then tell me, pretty girl,” all of a sudden, she brings her hand to your neck and grabs it, softly choking you, you can’t help but moan in the process, “why are you entertaining others?” Your mouth drops.

“Baby, I’m not.” You release in gasps, trying so hard not to moan, knowing she’d use it against you.

“No?”

You shake your head. Jenna notices the breathing pattern you’re releasing and realises it’s the same one you harbour when she’s fucking you senseless. “Oh, baby, are you my good girl?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to spit out, “please, just.”

“Just what? You want me to fuck you so hard that it’ll shut you up? Punish you for entertaining others, and you’d enjoy every single second of it, like the naughty girl you are, taking pleasure in something so dirty.” The grip on neck was stronger than ever, but Jenna knew how to do it properly, the safe way, making sure she didn’t suffocate you and that you were still able to breathe.

“God, yes, please, J-Jenna.” You start begging.

“Begging already?” She laughs at you, now letting go of your neck and grabbing both your hands and pinning them up above your head, “you’re pathetic, and easy.” She spits out.

“Please, I take pleasure in you, mark every inch of me, let the whole world know who I belong to.”

She scoffs, “you’re such a good girl, you’d let me do anything to you, let me mark every single inch of your body to show everyone that you’re mine and only mine, my good, obedient slut.”

“Yes.” You breathe out, lunging your head forward to get even the slightest taste of her.

“Oh? You want a kiss, not that easy, baby, you have to work for it.” She slowly lets go of your hands as she starts sucking on the top of your boobs, on the skin that is exposed, but she doesn’t stop, her hunger takes over, she pulls down the fabric covering the rest of your boobs and then she goes ham, sucking in your nipples, pleasuring your areolas, devouring each boob as if they were her last meal.

Your moans started soft, Jenna couldn’t hear them as she was too focused on smothering herself into you but as her force grows stronger, your moans grow louder, “nope,” she mumbles, she lifts her head up and locks eye contact with you, “you start moaning, and I stop, you think I’d give you the satisfaction of moaning after your little stunt? You thought wrong.” The gulp you let down was so strong you almost choke but you didn’t want Jenna to stop so you give into her commands.

Once she’s satisfied with your boobs, she starts caressing your curves as she starts kissing downwards, once she reaches your pussy, she takes one leg and slings it over her shoulder and you instinctively wrap it around your neck, lucky for her, the slit in your dress made it an easy access of her. She pulls down your panties and starts kissing the base of your vagina, working her tongue down to your clit, making you gasp, quickly realising what you had down, you place your palm over your mouth, hoping you don’t start moaning.

As she continues to lick every inch of your pussy, sucking the folds, sucking your clit and occasionally sticking her tongue into your entrance, you buck your hips towards her, wanting to make the most out of her tongue. She’s eating you out so good, she has all of you, every inch of your skin, every syllable that leaves your mouth, every letter of your name, it’s all hers. That tight coil feeling you know all too well starts building up and from the countless times Jenna has fucked you, she knows you’re close. But she can’t let you off that easily, once your eyes roll at the back of your head and your mouth opens, just waiting for a moan to escape, she pulls away. Looking at you with an evil grin plastered on her face.

“Fuck.” You mouth off, “why’d you stop?” Almost sounding annoyed.

“Well, well, well,” she laughs, “look who’s annoyed now, you want me to keep going?”

“Yes.” You moan.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please, please Jenna, I need you in me, need your tongue to devour every bit of me, please.”

“Begging for me to fuck you?” She looks at you with pride on her face, “how pathetic,” she spits. “I want you to kneel like the good slut you are ang beg for it, beg me to fuck you mercilessly.”

You lean in to kiss her and as you let go of her top lip, you find yourself slowly kneeling down, not breaking eye contact and once you’re on your knees, you look at her with soft eyes, she grabs your jaw and lifts it slightly upwards, raising her eyebrows at you.

“Jenna, baby, please, I need you, need you so bad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to entertain her, I’m all yours, all yours to love, to use, to fuck, like the good slut I am.”

“Whew, hermosa, you drive me crazy, you want me to fuck you so bad?” You nod like a spring bouncing up and down. “You want me to use the strap?”

You gasp with excitement, “yes, baby, please.”

“Okay,” she caresses your cheek with her thumb, “we’re going to go home, tell Anne you don’t feel well, and then when we get home, I’m going to fuck you mercilessly, you want to be my slut so bad? Then my slut you shall be, and you’re going to take every single inch of me like the good girl you are, you’re mine, y/n, I’ll have you wishing that you never disobey me again.”

~~

The drive home was tense, there was so much tension in the air, you swore Jenna was going to stop the car and fuck you right there, on the side of the road. “God, you’re so tempting,” was the only thing she said to you on the way home, and as the metres grew shorter, the more your excitement grew stronger, once the car was in the garage, Jenna practically leaped out of her seat to open the door for you, once you stood up, you grabbed her collar and started violently making out with her, she pins you up against the car, slowly untying the back of your dress, as you slowly undo her buttons.

“Well Ms. Ortega, your lapel seems to harbour a lot of buttons, trying to make me work for it?”

“Always.”

As both of you are tongue deep in each other’s throats, you lead one another to your bedroom, slowly removing clothing on the way, where all carnage breaks loose. You start whimpering as you beg for her to take you, impatience as she attaches the strap and as she turns around, your mouth starts to salivate, moaning at the sight of her.

She signals at you to come forward, and you obey, “I bet you’re so tight and wet.”

“Come and find out.” And with that, she pushes you onto the bed making your boobs bounce as a result of recoil, she lifts both of your legs up and slings it over her shoulders, once again wrapping them around her neck as a reflex. She starts pounding into you and all those moans you held in earlier were letting loose, each pound resulted in a moan louder than the last. She was ravishing you, and though her strap was artificial, she could feel your walls closing in, she could feel the warmth and the slickness, you were so wet, she swore you formed an ocean.

With each thrust into you, the pleasure is too overwhelming that grab onto the bed sheets, with one hand near your mouth as you bite down on the side of your wrist, ensuring you leave a mark. “Yeah? You like that baby, don’t you.”

“F-fuck, yes, yes I do.”

“Say my name, y/n, say it.”

“J-J-Jenna, fuck, Jenna.” You moan out in small, short breaths, barely being able to say her name correctly.

“Good job, my sweet girl, now say your name, your pussy deserves praise too.”

“Fuck,” you start but now she’s pounding even stronger with long forceful strokes, “fuck, it’s.”

“It’s?”

“It’s- baby, I can’t, please, I need to cum, please let me cum.” That same coil feeling in your stomach is back but now it’s stronger than ever, considering you didn’t get to cum back in the bathroom. You can see the sweat illuminate Jenna’s beauty, her mouth open as she’s close to cumming too, your orgasms were always in sync.

“Mhmh yeah? Me too, fuck, fucking you so good, you forget your own name.” She moans, now grabbing your boobs and squeezing them like two big oranges, “who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“W-who?” She stutters out as her climax reaches ever so closely.

“Y-you, baby.” The same stutter gets to you as your climax is inching closer.

“My name, y/n, fuck.”

“I’m y-yours, Jenna-”

“Y/N!”

“FUCK.” You both say in unison as your orgasms crash into you two like a freight truck, her strokes slows down, helping you ride out the high, her breathing labours and so does yours, gasping for air like it was a contest, and as she pulls out, your slick connects your pussy and her strap, taking off the strap she then takes her hand and collects your juices and spreads it along your lips, tempted to lick it off, you don’t, you know what’s next. She crashes onto your body, onto your lips kissing your juices, your cum off your lips.

“You taste divine, cara mia.” She mumbles in between breaths, making you giggle, and as she moves off of your body to lay next to you, still kissing and biting every inch of your lips, “you drive me absolutely crazy, sweet girl.”

You pull away, “that’s the plan,” you cheese at her, shuffling your body down a bit so you could lay your head on her boobs, relaxing as the night goes on, you two are sure to fall asleep within the next hour but now you bathe in the pleasure, the lust, the love you two share with each other and no one else.

“You’re mine, and mine only.”

 ~~

a/n: you get a cookie if you can find all of the frank ocean references in this fic hehe, a kiss if you’re my wife, also extra points if you can guess the singer in the second pic i used 😚. fun fact, the entire Malina Weissman thing is 100% real, real to me, I used to have the FATTEST crush on her (still do) and she did like two of my tik toks!! Oh and that wattpad story… uh, next question😁

also sorry if like there’s mistakes, it’s 9am and i haven’t slept in like 19hrs so bare with me 😭🤍

tag list: @talialeih, @alexkolax (idkw it’s not working but you asked me to add you to my tag lists!! <3), @iamthewoe

[pinkmirth]

⸻ 𝒢ℰ𝒯 𝒰𝒫!

༉‧₊˚. 𝓈𝓎𝓃ℴ𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: it’s reiner’s special day! what better way to start his morning than by treating him to a sweet surprise?

༉‧₊˚. 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈: ( 1k+ words of . . . ) reiner braun x fem!reader, slight fluff, nsfw/smut, modern au, fem!reader (black coded), established relationship, consented somnophilia, oral (m. receiving), use of pet names (ex. sugar, baby, honey, mama), lowercase intended, all characters are adults, explicit language, minors shoo!

༉‧₊˚. 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇: happy birthday to reiner fuckin’ braun, my favorite man in the whole wide world!!! he deserves a million big fat wet kisses and a billion more hugs. i can only convert my love for him into a smutty little drabble, so here we have it! (title’s kinda-sorta inspired by new jean’s song ‘cause it was on replay while i wrote this . . .) just wanted to put out something sweet for papa reiner’s big day, hope y’all enjoy! 🎀

the calendar’s graced with the change of a new month– the first of august.

today’s particularly special; reiner turning a year older. the sheets of your shared bed rustle about as you make attempts to stretch, but you’re stilled by the weight of reiner— particularly his extended arm strewn over your hip. it’s futile to try and move, especially when your husband sleeps like a log.

it’s amusing to observe his stillness; your drowsy eyes fixate on reiner in what you can only call pure adoration. beside you he rests, the breadth of his naked chest rising and falling in tandem with every puff of air that comes and goes. wispy fringes of blonde fall across his forehead, slightly outgrown as it’s been a good month or more since his last haircut. reiner’s generally furrowed expression is now easy and light, with his lips parted in the slightest to release subtle snores. even in a haze of sleep, he looks nothing short of ethereal.

you wonder what you could do to start his day memorably; breakfast in bed isn't even an option, considering that reiner might wind up spilling orange juice and breadcrumbs on the covers.

still, you intend to spoil him however you can, so you opt on waking him in the best way imaginable– a lovingly nasty blowjob. he’d mentioned it a couple nights back, how he wouldn’t mind if he arose to the sight of you sucking him off. carefully, you slink out from his hold and delve beneath the sheets, pressing chaste kisses wherever you can manage to reach. the brush of your lips aren’t enough to move him. reiner doesn’t wake, not just yet.

with limber movements, you continue to work your way further down, dragging off his plaid-print boxers until you’ve gained enough access. there his cock lies, soft against the thick expanse of his left thigh. he’s girthy, even without any stimuli. reiner’s always had some width to him, though he’s softer right now— easier to take into your mouth. your plush lips separate, eagerly so, trapping his dusty-pink tip between them. your head lowers, easing inch by inch into your pliant mouth. a tiny groan escapes him, and you pause. he tosses left, but remains at rest.

reiner doesn’t yet know how doting you’re being; lathering him in wet kisses and spit-smeared kitten licks, curious to see how much it’ll move him. saliva seeps past your mouth, down your chin and makes a mess of his now-twitching shaft. you know how much he’d love such a view.

the bob of your head is lax and controlled, suckling his cockhead until it pulses on your tongue— growing bigger and hotter until he eventually awakens. reiner squints at the beams of sun that pour into the room, rolling his muscular neck around to loosen any stubborn fatigue. his hair’s cutely tousled, golden eyes hooded with sleep. he displays a dazed half-grin, one that proves he’s currently unaware, but fuck, does he like whatever it is he’s feeling.

“ooh— g’mornin’, baby,” a dozy reiner manages to rasp out. the low bass of his voice channels from deep in his throat, and the addition of sleepiness atop it makes you throb. reiner peels the milk-white covers away, gladdened by the sight of you between his legs, as vulgar as it may be. his sizeable palm reaches for your face, caressing with gentility.

“happy birthday, rei,” you mumble out, a sliver of spit tethering your puffy lips to his big cock. it takes him a moment to register your words; he’d been much too focused on how nicely your mouth felt wrapped around him.

“that’s today already, huh?” he recalls amidst an eye-watering yawn. it’s ridiculous to think that he almost forgot his own damn birthday . . . it’s just that you’re working him so well, the pleasure must be dumbing him down. at times, you think you take his birthday more seriously than he does himself.

“i booked us a reservation for later tonight, baby. it’s at that steakhouse you like,” while sweetly carrying on with conversation, your unoccupied hand curls around his dick. each stroke is firm and well-paced, with just the right amount of pressure to make reiner shudder. “mm, t-that sounds nice, sugar,” he’s choking on his words already. soon enough, he’ll reach his limit. you dip your head back down with a sense of resolve, hoping to pry a good and thorough orgasm out of him.

you moan around him, and his toes curl against the duvet. your cheeks hollow, going faster as a means of prompting him closer to ecstasy. those pretty eyes of yours shining so earnestly, peering up at him with such a strong aim to please might just be the very thing that ruins him completely.

reiner allows his thumb to run across your cheek, though the motion’s done a little shakier than normal. you can't blame him much; he’s hardly able to stay composed when you’ve got the entirety of his cock shoved down your throat. “you’re so good to me, honey,” reiner groans out. his voice drops a bit, sounds a little fainter. you can’t tell whether it’s the doing of his impending orgasm or sheer gratitude. “— always so fuckin’ good to me.”

your tongue traces down a protruding vein and swirls around the base of him. you can feel his twitching grow all the more rapid, with each passing second.

“gonna cum?” you coo to him, receiving the hasty nod of his head in response. “mhm . . . keep going, mama, please,” is his low whine, and you’re quick to comply. today, he’s getting whatever his heart desires. your mouth runs hot against him, and you bring a hand to tug at his girthy underside. suctioning lips, touchy hands— it’s the merging of both that undoes him. breathless moans and profanities flow, and he just can’t help but throw his head back at how lewdly you’re drinking up his cum, sucking him dry. you swallow all he has to offer, leaving not a droplet to go to waste.

a hefty sigh escapes him. you crawl your way up his broad frame, making abode upon his chest with your face to his pecs. you crack a smile over the fervent hammering of his heart’s rhythm against your ear.

“love you so much,” reiner says in a breezy whisper. he cranes his neck downwards to present a kiss to you. smoothly, his lips slide against yours, colliding effortlessly. he can taste remnants of himself on your tongue.

“and i love you,” your manicured fingertips dance along his collarbone. from the angle you’re admiring him in, reiner appears serene. happy, better put.

‘fucked out’ is certainly a good look on the birthday boy.