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toournextadventure · 9 months ago

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when you love it

Summary: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it - Caitlyn Siehl

Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: swearing, injury mention, suggestive themes, blood mention, hurt no comfort (hopeful ending), extreme guilt Pairing: Wenclair x Vampire!Reader (part 2)

“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on the charge of murder in the first degree.”

Your fangs caught on your lip as you did your best not to smile. With the slightest turn of your body, you patted your client on the shoulder and congratulated him for getting off on murder. He was guilty as sin. You could practically smell the tainted blood coursing through his veins. It was abysmal; he was a horror to work with. Doubtless he would be murdered before he even left the courthouse.

His money was still just as good as anyone else’s.

The judge continued his usual spiel, the one you personally had heard many times over. Something about understanding the severity of the charges, how one must persevere to become more, to prevent such a situation from occurring again. She was getting much more emotional about the speech, putting more of a motherly spin on it. It was a lovely touch.

It wouldn’t work. But it was lovely.

“Don’t get yourself in too much trouble,” you said once the judge was finished and you could shake your client’s hand.

His smile was sinister. “I’ll be calling on you again.”

You made sure to show your fangs in your own smile. “I’ll be expecting it.”

The man gave you the creeps, more so than most of the clients you represented. Which was precisely why you allowed your shadow to escort him out of the courthouse to the freedom he had unjustly earned. You watched as he left with a smile that betrayed your actual thoughts.

If he called again, your rates would double.

“You did your job masterfully.”

You turned around, watching people continue to mill out of the courtroom. No one was facing you, not even the usual suspects. Even your best friend Detective Faus had already left. There was no one left to talk or discuss the events of the case. A pity.

Maybe it had been another hallucination; they were more frequent this time of year. Sounds of blood spilling, pouring down your throat like the first drink at the bar. The door opening, muffled words, wood splintering. The sounds made themselves known in your mind, drowning out everything else around you.

“Looking for someone in particular?”

No. No, that was no hallucination. You looked down to see a young man no older than 20 - though his spectacular mustache looked a bit old for him - standing beside you. It was no wonder you hadn’t noticed him, he was rather short. With a stunning crop of slicked back raven black hair, he reminded you of someone. Someone you did your best to forget.

“Thank you, mister…,” your voice trailed off.

“Pubert Addams,” he said with a charming smile as he held out his hand toward you. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

A wet gasp-

-a snarl-

-relief-

-pain-

“-A pleasure, Mr. Addams,” you said, grasping his hand as gently as you possibly could. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while.”

“I believe you knew my sister and her wife in college, did you not?” He asked as he let go of your hand.

A breathy moan-

-airy laughter-

-a warm sigh-

“-Quite a long time ago,” you said, “but yes.”

“Yes, I knew it was you,” he said with a smile that was far too familiar. Eerily so. “Are you free for a short while?” He asked. “I have a proposition for you.”

You sighed and shifted the weight to your good leg. It left an ache that rarely eased, though certainly not for lack of trying. Thanks to the glasses, you were confident your distrust was hidden. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the young Addams boy; he seemed decent enough. You had worked with enough sleazy people to know who to trust and who to be wary of.

There was just the little problem of not wanting anything to do with an Addams.

Though, you supposed you could give the boy the benefit of the doubt. After all, what would it hurt? If he was anything like Wednesday - and it was beyond clear he was - he would love the danger. The thrill of propositioning you would far outweigh the danger of having you near. A brave boy.

Just like his older sister.

“I suppose I have time,” you finally said with a toothy grin. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink,” he said quickly as he fell into step beside you. Exactly like his sister.

“A coffee then,” you amended.

He had no objections.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as he walked out of the courtroom with you. The stench of rancid blood filled your senses before you saw the commotion outside. Your client’s body lay sprawled along the steps, his blood flowing from the tips of his fingers; no one dared try to stop the bleeding. At the bottom, the police were shoving the victim’s brother into their cruiser.

“An eye for an eye turns the whole world blind,” Mr. Addams said with a shake of his head.

You didn’t dare hide your smile. “A beautiful sentiment.” You continued to walk past the scene, not looking back to see if Mr. Addams was following.

His footsteps quickened their pace to match yours before he stood beside you once again. It was a short, silent walk to the little cafe you had started to call your own. The barista was a wonderful young girl; she had easily fallen victim to the vampire charm you did your best not to throw around. Though you were a little less careful nowadays, but that was your little secret.

“What can I get for you, sugar?” The young waitress asked once you sat down. She, too, had fallen victim to your supernatural charm.

“A quad?” You asked once Mr. Addams sat across from you at the little table in the corner.

“Heavens no,” he said with his own charming smile, “I’ll take a mocha, thank you.”

“An espresso, darling,” you said with a smile at the waitress.

Her cheeks flushed. “I’ll have it for you in a moment.”

You tried not to mention your surprise at the young Addams going against what his older sister had made seem like tradition. Or perhaps she had changed over the years; it was a possibility she had come to enjoy the sweeter things in life. After all, Enid certainly did, so it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. She always had been a lovestruck fool for Enid.

So were you.

You promptly ignored the thought.

“What is your proposition, Mr. Addams?” You asked as you continued to wait for your drinks.

“Ah, of course,” he said. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “I would like to invite you to a soiree we happen to be hosting.”

“I’m nothing but a stranger to you,” you said simply. “What about me warrants an invitation?”

“My sister and her wife still talk of you,” he said. “Incessantly.” His smile was gentle; genuine. “I believe inviting you would make them happy.”

You didn’t grace that thought with a reply. If they still talked of you, that was their issue. Wednesday was certainly psychotic enough to desire your presence. Enid, also, could certainly be delusional enough. Seeing you again should bring them no sense of joy or peace; if anything, it should cause nightmares.

It didn’t matter that you often found yourself thinking of them in return. When you talked with clients who had a penchant for breaking the law, much like Wednesday. Committing their crimes guiltlessly for one reason or another. There was a difference in that Wednesday always had a good reason - even when you tried to make her believe she didn’t - but that could be easily overlooked when her cold brown eyes appeared in your mind.

And Enid was often seen in the young intern at your firm. Possessing a giddiness that was so often lost in people. Her colourful nails that you had been unable to forbid were like a flash of the past. The only difference was those nails were typing away at a computer instead of leaving scratches along your back. It was difficult, on occasion, to differentiate the two.

The waitress set the drinks on the table, giving you a wink and smile in the process. You smiled back, showcasing your fangs as she turned and walked back to the counter. If Mr. Addams hadn’t accompanied you, you would have flirted with the woman. Flashed a bit of cash, invited her home for a quick drink of your own before sending her back on her way.

You stirred your espresso for no good reason. At least it gave you time to think of your answer. Mr. Addams was gracious enough not to push. A wonderful change of pace from Wednesday, who would push until she regretted it. Which she had. Oh, she had, and you had all suffered for it.

There was no way you could tell Mr. Addams why you wanted to decline his invitation. If you even so much as hinted at the carnage you had caused, there was a high probability he would not only rescind his offer, but paint you as the monster you had already claimed for yourself. With good reason, of course, you hadn’t earned the title by sitting around.

On the other hand, just the mere thought of seeing Enid and Wednesday made your dead heart feel alive again. You had done your best to fill your nights with women. One after the other, never keeping them long enough to even learn their names. Each a new attempt to forget the two women who had taken your heart all those years ago. They never filled the hole; if anything, they made it bigger.

Perhaps…

“When is this little soiree of yours taking place?” You asked with a sigh, finally looking up from your espresso.

Now that smile was identical to his sister’s.

“I’ll fetch you the invitation.”

—---

You stood on the balcony of your apartment. Smoke curled around your fingers as the cigarette rested between them. The heat from the lit end was almost unbearable on your skin; it was a welcome feeling. City lights twinkled around you, creating constellations yet unnamed by the human race. Perhaps one day they would be prominent enough to fit in with the constellations of old.

It was the night before the soiree at the Addams residence. You had done your best to remain in control of your emotions the days leading up to it. Hell, you had even gone so far as to hire a few women just a few hours earlier to keep your thirst in check. You would rather receive a stake to the heart than risk another incident like the one that had created this situation in the first place.

And yet, even with all your preparations, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that had carved a home into the center of your chest.

The balcony door slid open.

“You coming back, baby?” The woman asked.

It was a shame you didn’t remember her name.

“Come on, baby,” she said, and you felt warm arms wrap around your waist. “I know you want another drink.”

You did. God you did. Just the thought of another drink left your throat searing. You tried to swallow, but all it did was burn like liquid fire trickling down your throat. With a sigh, you lifted the cigarette back to your lips and inhaled. If you were going to be in pain, you may as well finish off your cigarette.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” you said with an exhale that left smoke falling from your lips.

The warmth left your waist as she went back inside, and you heard her talking to… the… other woman. God, you really needed to learn the names of the people you drank from. If anything, it was the least you could do; it was polite. But you didn’t particularly care. All you knew was they weren’t Enid, and they weren’t Wednesday.

You were pathetic.

You took one more drag of your cigarette, feeling the heat burn the skin on your knuckles. The thick smoke left the taste of ash on your tongue and did nothing to ease the scorching pain in your throat. You dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it with your heel. You hissed when it singed your heel; you had forgotten you were barefoot.

If you had possessed any sort of soul, you would have felt guilt. There was something tugging on your invisible heart strings, begging you to care about the women you were surrounding yourself with. No, that wasn’t accurate. It wasn’t something tugging at your heart strings; it was two voices that had haunted you for years.

They single handedly ruined your night. With no shame and no clue that they had even done so, they had ruined it. The women around you weren’t the right women. Their skin was soft, but it wasn’t the same. Their freckles were in the wrong spots, and their nails and hair were the wrong colour. Each and every moan was the wrong tone, and these women just weren’t right.

It was a struggle, but by the time the night was over, you had more than gotten your fill. There was no possible way you would still be thirsty by the time you made it to the Addams residence. Though that didn’t stop you from grabbing a blood bag from the fridge and tucking it into your pocket before you left your apartment.

You stopped by the mirror in your hall to make sure you looked alright. It was custom made to not contain any silver, allowing you to see at least a semblance of your reflection. It wasn’t perfect, but it was like looking at someone through water. A little blurry, slightly distorted, but you could tell it was a person.

Your eyes were drawn to the dark scars that weren’t entirely hidden by your shirt collar. The majority of the scars were hidden, but not those. They were a stark contrast on your neck; a stark reminder of your monstrosity. Subconsciously, you lifted your hand to run your fingers over the taut flesh. They still ached.

Teeth ripping through flesh. You could hear the blood pumping from the wounds, pouring out over your hands as you tried desperately to stop the flow. Your own blood cascaded down your throat, erasing any satisfaction you had previously received.

You could still smell the blood. It made your mouth water.

You still wanted more.

You recoiled as if burned. Out of all the times you could have that memory, this wasn’t the optimal day. It didn’t require any consideration before you walked back to the fridge and grabbed a second bag, placing it right beside the first within your jacket. You had one shot; you weren't going to blow it.

It was a beautiful day outside as you approached the Addams mansion. The sky was overcast, almost allowing you to take your glasses off. Not that you would have, but it would have been a nice option to have. Large groups of people made their way up the steps and into the mansion. It truly was a stunning building; you had missed it.

You fell into the back of a group, ensuring you were silent and could walk in unnoticed. Yes, of course someone would notice eventually, but you wanted a chance to settle back into the excessively large house. The smell of the slightly-rotting wood was enough to ease your racing pulse. It smelled like home.

While everyone continued to slowly make their way into the ballroom, you went the opposite direction. Your hand trailed against the walls, maneuvering around each and every item that was hanging. The paintings and knick knacks and more recent looking photos. Some were new, or at least newer than you. They certainly hadn’t been hanging on the wall the last time you had visited.

The idle chatter of the crowd started to fade the further you went.The hallway turned into a slightly larger room filled with framed photos and awards. You let your fingers hover over the nameplates on the awards. Spelling Bee, First Place. A smile tugged at your lips as you moved on. Silver, Figure Skating. Down and down the line, you looked at award after award. There were names underneath, but you didn’t waste your time looking at them.

After the awards were the photos. You picked up the first one with gentle hands; a wedding photo deserved care. It was no surprise to see Wednesday in black and Enid in something so bright it was almost blinding. The image alone had your chest aching. They looked rather happy.

Their happiness didn’t distract you from the scars down the side of Enid’s face. The ones that traveled from the corner of her eyes to her jaw. Based on the colour in the photo, they were freshly healed. You couldn’t see Wednesday’s; she had a black lace wrapped around her wrist. From the look of Enid’s, you could imagine.

You set the frame back down on the table and stepped back. The curiosity had disappeared, quickly replaced with something heavy. With a tight chest, you backed out of the room and made your way to the ballroom with everyone else. The slight limp in your step worsened. A sigh fell from your lips as you had to lean against the wall and reach down to tighten the brace. Your jaw clenched almost painfully as the brace became insufferably tight around your leg, but at least it gave you the ability to stand on your own once again.

Until you were nearly knocked over by children running down the hall.

“Excuse me!” One of them called back. A chorus of the same words were quick to follow as the other children ran after the first.

“Behave!” You froze. “And don’t push people!”

“Yes ma’am!” The children shouted.

If you had known you would have such a visceral reaction just to her voice, you wouldn’t have accepted the invitation. You had no idea your body itself would react to her voice. If you could sweat, you would have been. Your fingers twitched. Don’t turn, your mind told you. Begged, even. Desperate, feral, pathetic.

“Cara mia.” You forced yourself to take a step. “You forgot your shawl upstairs.”

Don’t turn around, your mind said. It was frantic. You forced another step. And another. Each one heavier than the last, as if your body was fighting with your mind. You truly were a fool to accept the invitation, and there wasn’t even a word to describe yourself for actually daring to appear. Stupid. That was the best word.

“Are you a vampire?”

You sighed and took a moment to calm your emotions before looking down. One of the children that had been running around was now standing beside you, looking up at you with bright eyes and a cocked head. It reminded you of- no, you wouldn’t think of that. You turned to face the child and shifted your weight to rest on your good leg.

“I am,” you said with a singular nod of your head. “And you are?”

“Oh,” they said with a smile. A large, wolfish smile. “I’m an Addams.”

You were thankful they couldn’t see your eyes. “Charmed.”

Of course they were an Addams. How could you ever think differently? The Addamses were magnets for trouble, and you didn’t have to know the child to deduct that they were, in fact, trouble. You turned away from them and looked back out into the ballroom.

“My mothers have a picture of you on their nightstand,” the child continued.

You wished they would leave.

“But you have scars, and the person in their picture doesn’t.”

You would have no shame in killing a child.

“My momma has scars too.” It would be simple. “They almost match yours.”

“Don’t harass the guests, dear.”

Or perhaps you would simply kill yourself. It would certainly be less painful than whatever was about to happen. You could hear the echo of your dead heart beating loudly in your ears. Perhaps if you refused to turn around, she would continue walking. Walk right past you and into the crowd, leaving you behind as you so very much deserved.

But she didn’t continue walking as you desperately wished she would. She didn’t move out into the crowd, saying her greetings to the others as was customary. You could barely hear her footsteps at all above the incessant noise that you were wishing would get louder. Drown out all the thoughts and emotions bubbling up inside you.

“We weren’t sure you would come.”

You still refused to turn around. Even when you felt her sidle up next to you, her arm brushing lightly against yours. Oh, her warmth was glorious. You had forgotten just how lovely it was to feel her warming you up. To bring life to your soul in a way that only she was capable of. No amount of women in your bed had ever held a candle to her warmth.

“You look good.” Her voice was impossibly soft against the rising chaos of the soiree.

Growls and screaming echoed in your mind’s ear as you finally made the brave - or stupid - decision to turn your head. If you had thought your anxiety was bad before, you would have been impressed with your anxiety at that moment. The first thing your eyes took notice of were the healed, lightly coloured scars on her jaw.

The scars you had caused.

“You look healthy,” Enid said with a soft smile.

She looked so very grown. That childish glint in her eyes was still present, but she held herself with far more respect. The insecurity had long faded away, much like the scars that continued down her neck. The child was right; you almost matched.

“I fed before arriving,” you said. Your words felt like ash in your mouth. “No need for history to repeat itself.”

“We have more in the kitchen,” she said quickly. “If you need it.”

You opened your coat to show the two bags in the pocket. “I came prepared, thank you.”

She smiled a closed mouth smile and nodded before looking back out at the ballroom. That heavy feeling settled in your chest once again. After so many years, that was all you had to say to her? That you had fed already? Of course, that was probably the one thing she wanted to hear after so long. You were a fool. A damned fool.

“I hope the kids weren’t bothering you,” Enid said. “They get excited when we host gatherings.”

“They seem decent,” you said. Decent?? That’s the best you can come up with? “That one-” you pointed to the one with the bright eyes “-is rather talkative.”

Enid giggled, and for a moment, you felt young again. “Willa says she gets it from me.”

Willa. You could have laughed if it didn’t hurt so bad. Wednesday had always attempted to claim she hated it. Yet it never stopped the lightest blush on her cheeks when you or Enid would use the unassuming nickname. When was the last time you had even heard it?

Come on, Willa, put it down, I’m being serious.

You turned your body ever so slightly. You didn’t want Enid to see the scars creeping down your neck. Her hand brushed against yours. It was shameful how quickly you pulled your hand back, shoving it into your pocket. No good could come from her feeling the shake of your hand, or the scars that hid below the cloth of your clothes.

“Oh, there she is,” Enid said, this time reaching out to grab your arm a little harder than she probably meant to. “Stay right here, I’ll bring her over!”

The moment she left your side, the cold started to crawl back over your skin. It sunk into every vessel, every inch of your body, both inside and out. Attending the soiree was a mistake. A mistake that you couldn’t take back. Just like that night. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. You could leave before they came back and continue your miserable existence as you had been.

But then you saw them together, hand in hand. It was an unexpected thing to see Wednesday practically smiling at Enid. In public, that was. You couldn’t recall a single time she had smiled at anything in public. Yet there she was, walking closer and showing some semblance of physical affection in public. It was stunning. Your heart was almost beating.

Until your eyes landed on all the black lace that you knew covered scars no one could comprehend.

“I told you I saw them,” you heard Enid say as they both approached where you were frozen in place. “And I was right.”

Wednesday looked up at you with those stunning brown eyes. “So you were.”

Your fingers twitched in your pocket. Now that she was so close, you could smell her blood flowing through her veins. No matter how much you swallowed, you couldn’t ease the burn that was rising up your throat. You clenched your jaw tight, ignoring the sting of your fang piercing your lip.

Wednesday!

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? “Hello Wednesday, I’m sorry for nearly draining you while you attempted to prove I wasn’t a monster.” Or even to Enid. “I apologise for trying to kill you when you stopped me from killing our girlfriend.” There was nothing you could say, to either of them, to justify what you had done. What you couldn’t forget.

“I told them you had their picture,” the previous child said as they approached along with the rest of the herd.

For the first time, you were thankful for children.

“So you told our secrets?” Wednesday asked. “You know what happens to those who tell our secrets.”

The old Wednesday would have sounded more intimidating and borderline threatening. Yet, even as her words said one thing, the soft look on her face said another. The children all smiled and tried to hide their laughter as they continued to look up at her.

“You’d better run,” Enid whispered.

Each of the children shared a look before running off, laughter following in their wake. It was almost… cute? Adorable, even? God, you needed to escape this place, you were almost turning soft. You needed to get back to your murderers and criminals, this was turning pathetic.

“As intimidating as ever, my love,” Enid said as she leaned down and placed a soft chaste kiss on Wednesday’s cheek.

It made you sick. The burn in your throat spread, turning into a searing pain in your chest and stomach. All that was left was the tingling in your fingers and legs and you were finished. You wished the inferno would swallow you whole, reducing you to nothing more than ash and bone.

“You seem pale,” Wednesday said.

It seemed you wouldn’t combust soon enough.

“I only arrived out of courtesy,” you said as you stood taller. “Now that I have said my hellos, I must say my goodbyes.”

You tried to act like the looks on Enid’s and Wednesday’s faces didn’t kill you inside. It was like a silver stake to the heart, spreading its carnage down every muscle fiber and blood vessel. After all these years, you had managed to hurt them again within only a few moments. And you didn’t even possess the decency to apologise for the first sleight against them.

“Do you have to?” Enid asked. “You could stay.” Her eyes fell. “We could talk.”

“Did Enid tell you we have more blood in the fridge?” Wednesday asked.

She circled her fingers around her lace-covered wrist.

“I don’t do house calls,” you said. You could hear Wednesday’s pulse over the crowd. “Especially with those I cannot pay penance to.”

And yet, you didn’t make a single move. Against your better wishes, your feet stayed glued to the floor. Each beat of Wednesday’s heart was enough to have your mouth salivating, yet you couldn’t leave. A memory popped into your head of Enid almost seeming disappointed that her blood wasn’t appetising to you. It was a fond memory, one you replayed often enough for it to seem like a core memory of your relationship.

“You could stay,” Enid said.

“We can go somewhere quieter,” Wednesday continued.

You didn’t want to go somewhere quiet, you wanted to go home. You internally scoffed at the word; you didn’t live in a home. It was just a building, with four walls and a new blood bag or two every night. You barely lived in it, instead opting to spend all your time in your office where nothing could remind you of the two women standing in front of you.

They were your home.

“Please?” Enid asked softly. Almost too softly. Even with your enhanced hearing you could barely discern the words over the jazz band that had started playing.

You sighed. Would it truly hurt to spend a few moments with them? To give you some semblance of normalcy that only they could provide? After all, you could see the muscles underneath Enid’s skin. If you truly lost control, surely she could stop you. She had stopped you before.

The scars reminded you of it every day.

“Very well,” you said with a slight nod.

Enid was the one to reach out and grab your hand, pulling it out of its pocket and linking her fingers with yours. Her nails dug into the back of your hand, drawing out a sting that was a welcome distraction. The ache in your throat was ever present as Wednesday walked right beside you while Enid led you out of the ballroom.

The hustle and bustle of the ballroom slowly faded into oblivion as you were led down the corridors of the Addams mansion. You could recall memories from each room you passed. Each with their own story to tell. Stories of stolen kisses, scandalous rendezvous, silent moments with the women you loved, but together and separate.

When Enid stopped in the kitchen, you would have laughed had it been under any other circumstance. It was clear they had the same thoughts on their minds when Enid sat you down and Wednesday retrieved a blood bag from the fridge. She placed it between you and her when she sat opposite you at the table.

How comical.

They both stared at you with unwavering gazes. What was going through their minds, you wondered. Were they feeling the same way you had? Broken, anxious about fucking up, convinced you had blown your chance? Or perhaps they were waiting for you to break and recreate what had happened on that fated night all those years ago.

You sighed when you deduced they wouldn’t speak first.

“You both look well,” you said in a croaky voice that, if they were wise, was indicative of the state of your instincts. Think of something else to say. “Are all those children yours?”

Think of something less ridiculous.

“Yes they are,” Wednesday said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was almost condescending; you loved it.

“Pubert said you’re a lawyer?” Enid asked.

“Defence attorney,” you said with a nod, “yes.”

“Is it, ah, fun?” She asked.

You sighed. If the entire night was going to go along those lines - awkward and uncomfortable, tip toeing around every word - you would rather leave. Not a single positive thing could come from such a conversation. It was talking for talking sake. You all hated small talk, that was something that you knew had never changed, yet there you were, struggling to find any sort of conversation.

“It’s acceptable,” you said before placing both palms on the table. “I believe I really should be getting on.”

You attempted to push yourself up from the seat. Attempted being the key word. It wasn’t often your bad knee would buckle when standing; usually reserved for long nights in your office where you had barely managed to take bathroom breaks. Yet when you pushed yourself up, you felt the strain in your knee. It was a familiar feeling, that weakness before a painful tightness that so often forced you back into your seat.

And it did. Your grip on the table meant nothing as your knee shook for a nanosecond before giving out underneath you. Thankfully the gasp never actually left your lips. You could taste the copper in your mouth as you bit your tongue in an effort to stay silent. In the end, your entire leg trembled.

Enid and Wednesday stood up quickly, knocking their chairs back and watching your every move. You wished they would come to you; you were glad they didn’t. The looks on their faces was terrifying enough. Identical looks to the ones they had had that night.

“Wednesday, put it down,” you said when she refused to remove the knife from her hand.

“Your fears of being a monster are unwarranted,” she said as she gripped the blade tighter. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

She had barely broken the skin before the scent hit you. It had been months since you had fed, and she had broken the floodgates. Everything about her disappeared except for the small drop of blood pooling at the bottom of her hand.

You didn’t feel yourself practically jumping toward her. You didn’t hear her gasp when you ripped the knife from her hand. You didn’t see the look on her face as you licked up the blood on her palm, or when you moved up her hand to bite the pulse point on her wrist.

But you tasted the nectar that flowed through her veins. You felt the strong pulse beneath your lips. You felt the scorching hot blood falling down your chin before you simply couldn’t keep up with the flow. Something vaguely pushed against your neck, but it was little more than a nuisance. All you knew was the blood in your mouth and the warmth on your lips.

Vaguely, you heard something. A scream, a growl, something breaking, you couldn’t tell the difference. It was nothing compared to the relief you were getting. How could you care about something in the outside world when you had such a delicious-

-something solid slammed into your body. The skin underneath your lips vanished, replaced by the cold air around you. When your body stopped rolling, you could feel the aches already starting to form. It didn’t matter. You zeroed in on Wednesday’s wrist again.

You were met with what felt like a truck slamming into your leg. Bones cracked, stretching the tendons and muscles with the new direction they were facing. It wouldn’t hold any weight when you tried to stand up. No matter; that was why you had two legs.

Something large and furry stepped in between you and Wednesday. Nothing about it was familiar in that moment. Instinct told you it was nothing but an obstacle in the way of your feed. It charged, and you swiped. Your fingers clipped something even as you felt its claws rake across your skin.

You tried to stand. Something sharp crossed your chest; the air was cold on your skin. When you stood up again, it was met with similar results. The third attempt got you closer to Wednesday. When something sharp clasped around your shoulder and threw you back to the ground, you stilled.

That hot blood you had gorged yourself on started to feel hot on your neck. Not in it, on it. You opened your mouth to speak and felt the liquid spew from your lips, falling down your face in all directions. Your hand lifted to the side of your neck. Your fingers pushed past the skin and then-exposed muscle.

As you pushed harder on the wounds, doing your best to staunch the flow of blood, the world started to come back to you. Blackness peeled back from your vision. The blurry world started to come into focus along with the sounds that you could finally discern as gasps and growls.

So did the pain.

You were drowning in the blood you had stolen. Your head lolled to the side even as you coughed again, spewing blood into the air like some demented fountain. A werewolf was across the room, hovering over Wednesday even as it transformed back into a person. Back into Enid. Her bare skin was shredded in places.

Wednesday was bleeding out from more than one bite mark.

You had attacked them. Both of them. The women you loved. They were bleeding out. Because of you.

You released the pressure from your neck and felt the blood continue to fall.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Something wet fell down your cheeks.

“I know,” Wednesday answered just as softly. It was humiliating.

It was lovely.

“Please stay,” Enid said. You looked down to see her reach her hand across the table.

You shouldn’t. You had nearly killed them, had gone into a frenzy that you hadn’t experienced ever again. What if it happened again with them? After all those years, you still loved them. You would never admit to anyone, but you kept their photos on your desk at work. You couldn’t risk hurting them again. Couldn’t risk killing them. You were a monster, and that fact alone was never going to change.

They looked at you expectantly.

For when is a monster not a monster?

You reached forward and placed your hand on top of Enid’s.

Oh, when you love it.

#wenclair x reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #wednesday x enid

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 7 months ago

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The creator had a:

sea streaked child

WC:800

Cw: reader is said to breastfeed but isn't written doing so

Checking the blinds to make sure they were clean, remaking the ruffles so they are even.

Furina had spent her entire morning jittery walking everywhere in the palais mermonia.

Now across the room she is digging in between the blue roses hiding any less than stellar bloom under one of its prettier sisters.

Changing the tea set on the table in the middle of the room, cerulean blue, cobalt blue and sky blue swapping places faster than Neuvillette can pay any mind to.

She sighs, looking defeated at the sets and almost begging them to tell her which one is supposed to be best yet for one second the teapots looked like mocking faces. Throwing herself on a loveseat the room starts to feel smaller and she isn't even totally sure what tea to serve.

“Breath” neuvillette says from the desk, ever since he took over the leading role in Fontaine he spent more time between pages of legal documents, if that is even possible “they are arriving for a simple chat to check on the general management of the region”

“How do you even expect me to be calm when they themselves asked for my attendance for this meeting!” she sits up wobbly, the soft swirling getting worse “I can't even remember what cake you told me they liked… this is going to be a mess”

“Their grace has quite the sweet tooth, as long as what you planned doesn't have coffee it's going to be alright”

“Why no coffee?”

“miss furina… they gave birth a few days ago, it’s disadvised to breastfeed and have caffeinated drinks” seeing her nod and her little ahoge bobbing along he feels the need to confirm “that not only includes coffee and variations but also most teas” and with that she jumps to her feet, quickly excusing herself to make some changes.

“That child…” he sighs as he reviews the documents he wanted to show you and a rough overview, his head resting against his hand and a finger between his teeth. Feeling the door whining softly he laughs from the bottom of his throat “back soon early?”

And as his heart skipped a beat as you spoke “Oh, my, I know I am 30 minutes early but I thought you would like to meet me particularly” you walk deeper inside the room, past the meticulously fixed flowers that you wouldn't have noticed the mistakes on and past the three teapots on the table, each a slightly different shade of blue. Now standing besides neuvillette and facing the documents he just noticed the bundle of white cloth you held onto.

“Did the crops get better with the method I recommended? It left me worried when I left”

“The production got better, if you want to check the report is here” he offers the three papers stuck together by a metal clip when he notices that doing it with a single hand might be hard “if I might help you” he positions his arms to grab the baby and you let her between his arms

“Let's hope she stays asleep, she is such a colicky baby” you whisper but as soon as you finish the sentence she opens her eyes and starts wailing “my goodness…” you sigh deeply.

“Let me take care of it, just focus on that” he stands up and tries to mimic what he saw parents do with their small children whenever something upsetting might come up during the trials and small children would cry.

He grabs her neck and head with one hand and her legs with another, cradling her like you. As he was swaying softly the blanket covering her hair slid down to show pointy ears and softly cartilage mixing on her thin white hair.

“Is she…” but is soon shushed by you, pointing at the door and then to your ears, the message very clear ‘someone might be listening’ but he keeps his eyes glued to you only to catch you mouthing a soundless yes. His hands cradle her head onto his neck, soft blue cartilage sneaking past his fingers.

Now soothed, you two find comfort on the soft sound of passing the pages and Cordelia's breathing, the baby's name he would later find out.

“NEUVI I managed to get a cheesecake and fontas did i save this?!” Furina pushes past the door, holding a full size strawberry cheesecake and hugging three fontas against her chest but seeing you head on thinking you weren't on Fontaine yet “HIYY”

The screech caused Cornelia to get startled and start wailing “Miss Furina.” neuvillette says sternly, almost like a father telling off his daughter. But the only thing it caused was for her to see him hugging a baby suspiciously similar to him which didn't take her long to join the dots.

“OOAH!”

“Furina please stop scaring my daughter!”

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #neuvillete #genshin neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #meme made in WhatsApp my beloved

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sierrale8ne · 1 month ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER TWO

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @patscorner @wbbgetsmewetter @makethemhoesmad @authentic-girl03 @rosemariiaa

kalena speakss 🪽! wanted to give yall another chapter tonight since college is kicking my butt atm and idk when the next update will be. hopefully soon tho!

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California

“I just don’t see why you keep acting like our relationship doesn’t matter. I'm tired of acting like it doesn’t piss me off.” Julian spoke, disrupting the peace I had created for myself as I got dressed in the bathroom.

We were supposed to be getting ready for the Sparks home opener game against the Dallas Wings. I was exhausted from getting into LAX at an ungodly hour of the night, and now the conversation was giving me a headache.

“Ju, are we together?”

“Yes—”

“Did you ask me to be your girlfriend?” I turn around, slipping the mini gold hoops in my hand into my ears.

“No, but—”

I cut him off before he gets the chance to defend his position. “Then we’re not together.” I sigh. “I like where this is going, I really do, but we can’t keep having this conversation, Julian. I’m tired of it. This is just the way my career is working out right now.”

“So what? You make more money when the public thinks you’re single?” Julian asks. He’s very visibly frustrated, as he has been since before I even stepped off the stage in New York.

“No. I make more money when I keep the main thing the main thing. And right now the main thing is my music.” The words bounce off the wall for a moment, silence cutting through the air. I feel bad. He really is a great guy, and I hate to put him in a position like this, but it’s the way it has to be. “Ju’ come on. You have to understand where I’m coming from. I’m sorry.”

My hand reaches out for his shoulder, attempting to lessen the blow. Instead he steps back from me, shaking his head with a huff and leaving the bathroom.

“Have fun at the game, ‘Raye.” He speaks as he leaves, and it’s my turn to huff.

I turned around. Looking intently at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

This is the closest thing I’ve had to a relationship in years, and yet, I’m spending the majority of it fighting over something dumb. But is it really dumb, or am I being insensitive?

I really do like Julian. He’s funny and sweet, he never fails to go out of his way to support me; I mean he just caught a flight to see me on Jimmy Fallon. He buys me flowers, he cares about communication, and all the little things. But for some reason I Just can’t keep up with it.

It sucks.

—

May 2025 — Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, California

The atmosphere in the arena is booming, and oddly enough I find myself surprised at how many people have filled Crypto. I’m seated courtside, underneath the basket nearest to The Sparks bench. The game is halfway through the first quarter and at a timeout when I take my seat.

I have on a burgundy leather set from Fashion Nova. The shirt is a cropped button up that I only fastened at the bottom button and matching shorts. I’m wearing a pair of matching burgundy Prada slingback pumps that my recent success has gratefully allowed me to purchase.

I sent a last minute text to my sister, telling her that Julian bailed and I would love it if she joined me, hence the slight tardiness.

I’ve never seen Cassie as excited as she is right now. She’s beaming with energy, you would’ve thought she’s been planning this for months rather than being invited last minute. She’s for sure more of a basketball fan than I am, I credit that to my uncle. Whereas my dad made me more of a football fan.

“You’re gonna be getting infinite Christmas gifts this year for this, oh my God.” Cassie jokes with a kool aid smile on her face. I giggle, brushing her off.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, Cassie.” I giggle, brushing her off playfully. My phone dings, and I pull it up from my lap to check the notification.

Hey I feel like shit about earlier

Talk when you get home?

It’s Julian. Of course it’s Julian. I try to fight the urge to frown but I can’t help the way the disheartened expression forms in my face. I shut my phone off, shaking the feeling off and turning back to the game.

The buzzer sounds, alerting us that the game is starting again. It allows me to finally bring my attention back to the game. The Sparks are down seven, but you couldn’t even tell that the fans were bothered by it.

“Jumbotron.” My sister whispers to me and I notice the camera moving past ‘celebrity row’ and getting shots of everyone.

“Bro.” I groan. I don’t hate it, it just gets so awkward. The camera man stays out there for too long and then I forget what to do with my hands.

But regardless, the camera approaches me and my sister. I look up briefly at the Jumbotron before back down at the camera in front of me. A smile spreads to my face and I wave emphatically. Fortunately it doesn’t take very long and the camera man backs away a little.

Only briefly though, because within a matter of seconds he’s crashing to the ground and his large camera falls into Casandra’s lap.

During all the basketball games I’ve ever watched, I’ve always wondered how common the players run into the media crew or the stands. And every time I've sat in an arena, I’ve always said it would never be me. So you can imagine my surprise when a 6 '1 Paige Bueckers fell right on me after getting fouled going for a layup, knocking over the camera man in the process.

“Oh shit, man you good?” Paige asks him. Her hand helps steady him on his feet and Cassie hands him his camera back, mumbling hurriedly if he was alright. The man nods, patting her on the back.

My eyes meet hers, and suddenly I’ve never seen a prettier set of eyes. A shade of blue that was indescribable. Her hand reaches out to the both of us, palms outstretched as she asks, “Are you guys okay?” It comes out as a stutter and I barely notice it but it’s there.

I nod. And then I remember she still has free throws to shoot. “Yeah. All good, thanks.” I smile. Paige turns around, brushing her teammates off with thumbs ups and high fives when they ask if she’s alright.

I would be an idiot to say that I wasn’t a little star struck. Sure, I wasn’t completely up to date with all things basketball, but I knew more than enough to know just how much Paige Bueckers was loved in the basketball community. Hell, the city of LA basically through a parade when they got that #1 overall pick.

She was a superstar, in all possible definitions of the word. You couldn’t go more than five minutes without seeing her face on TikTok or some commercial.

And she was stunning; the last five seconds of me staring at her confirmed it in my mind even more.

—

“Thanks, Holly.” I beam with a smile. It only takes a few seconds of me walking away from postgame to hear yelling in my ear and Cam’s long arms around my shoulders.

In the least cocky way possible, I played an amazing game. Yes, the defense I faced tonight was different than when I was at Connecticut and efficiency wise I did struggle a bit. Who am I kidding— I played phenomenal.

26 points 9 rebounds and 7 assists, the pick-and-roll with Dearica racking up many of those. The team came out with a narrow win over the Wings, getting our season off on the right foot.

“That’s my fuckin’ rook!” I hear Azura Stevens hype me up. I dap her up cleanly, the smile on my face physically impossible to get rid of. For only being on the team for a month, they did a great job of welcoming me with open arms.

I could definitely get used to this.

A towel hangs around my neck, picking up all the sweat from the game. I’m walking towards the locker rooms with a few of my teammates when I get pulled back for some autographs. I don’t say no, honestly I can’t remember the last time I refused to sign an autograph. Or if I ever did.

There’s a young girl in front of me alongside her mom. She has on the UConn National Championship shirt from a month ago, her eyes wide as she pushes my sparks jersey up to me. I sign it with a smile, my heart swelling in size when she squeals and thanks me profusely.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for coming out!” I grin. My feet carry me through a few more fans. I sign all sorts of memorabilia from hoodies, to jerseys, phone cases, and shoes. As well as a wild number of selfies before I hear my name.

“Paige, come here!” It’s Rickea, as her voice has become widely recognizable in the last month that I’ve been here. “Oh my God, walk slower!”

I roll my eyes as I pick up my pace. She’s standing courtside with her warmups on. “Finally. I wanted you to meet a friend of mine. Maraye, this is Paige.”

When I look over it’s the girl from the TV last night, standing there with her purse in hand and— oh my God I ran into her like an hour ago. I fell into her lap. Oh my God this is embarrassing.

She looks even more gorgeous than when I was drooling over her last night. Her hair is the same, from what I can remember, but her outfit is completely different. The color she has on is similar to the one from last night, but the set shows off so much more skin. Her legs are toned, the top she wears is unbuttoned just enough to give me a show of the lace black bralette under it, and her gold septum shines in the arena light.

“Hey.” I greeted her and the girl who sat next to her earlier in the night. “I do apologize about earlier by the way.”

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” She reassures me.

“P, Cam, and I were watching the show last night. You did great, Raye.” Rickea pushes at Maraye’s shoulder. My eyes catch how she blushes in response.

“You on a world tour or something? New York last night, and LA tonight.” I joke, and she laughs. Her laugh is possibly more angelic than her singing, and the way her accent popped out when she spoke might even have an edge on that.

“Nah. I just couldn’t miss opening night. Kea’ would never let me live it down, plus my sister is like a huge hoops fan.” She explains, gesturing to the two women next to us.

I’m towering over her as I look at her but she still keeps eye contact with me. My eyes never leave hers, I didn’t even want them to.

“I was just telling her about Cam and Ben’s dinner party on friday.” Rickea starts. She turns to face me, but I’m still stuck on Maraye and her— well her everything. Rickea swats my arm as slyly as she can to get my attention. My eyes rip away from the musician with an incredulous force. “You are going to that, right?”

“I, uh, I’m not sure. I gotta check on when Drew and my dad are coming to town.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there then?” Maraye speaks.

Someone please help me figure out why her eyes are so mesmerizing. They’re big and a perfect shade of brown. The slight tilt of her head when she asks me nearly drives me crazy.

“Yeah maybe.” I nod before looking at Rickea. I don’t know how long we’ve stood here, but what I do know is that coach will hand our asses to us on a silver platter if we’re late to the first media session of the season. “Yo, we gotta…” My head tilts towards the tunnel.

“Oh shit you’re right. It was so good to see you guys!” She jumps, pulling Maraye and her sister into a group hug. “Tell y’all folks I say hi!”

The four of us exchange waves and we walk off the court. By the time we make it to the tunnel Rickea is letting out a loud cackle and pushing me away from her. “You’re not even trying to hide it!” She laughs. I know exactly what she’s talking about but I act clueless, it’s too early for my teammates to be ridiculing me over my choices in women.

“You are sooooo going to that dinner party.”

A smirk spreads on my face and I roll my eyes. For the first time all month, I can’t even disagree. Nothing is stopping me from going to that dinner party.

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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cdragons · 10 months ago

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Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by commenting!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

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antiyourwokehomophobia2 · 2 months ago

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Honestly, Petunia Dursley drives me up a wall. I can't think about her character for too long. Imagine having a sister that you love but you lose your love for her after a series of unfortunate events. Your sister's magic emboldens a boy to approach both of you and insult and hurt you (yes, I know Snape's actions are his own but he never would've approached lily or petunia if the former were not a witch. I'm sure petunia thoughts were along this line.). Your parents rave over your sister because she's magic and you're not. Your sister leaves for months at a time. You don't get to see her after school. You see her on holidays and that's it. When she graduates, she marries a boy that you don't like, moves out, has a child, and then dies a year after that child is born. You never got much time with your sister after she turned 11. Fucking 11.

Not only that, but the child your sister had has been left in your care. You cannot escape the world that your sister was apart of even though you, yourself, were rejected from it. This world crops up in the worst of ways. People breaking through your fireplace. Your own son gets his tongue enflated to where it chokes him. When your nephew turns 17, you're told that you have to leave your own home because the person hunting him may come after you.

I'm not saying the Dursley's were good people. But my god. This story, from Petunia's perspective, is a horror story where you're refused a starring role but somehow get all the pitfalls of the limelight anyway.

She makes me insane.

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togrowoldinv · 1 year ago

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Sleepover

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Yelena invites you to go home with her for the weekend, you spend some time with Natasha. She finds out you haven’t been with anyone before and offers to be your first

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, innocent reader, oral (R receiving), hot older Natasha

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

When your friend Yelena asked you to go home with her for the weekend, you agreed easily. It sounded like a fun time to spend with her and meet her family and friends back home.

But something else was motivating you too. Her very attractive older sister.

You’ve met Natasha before. She helped move Yelena in along with their parents. The redhead was nice to you that say. You’ve seen her countless more times through the phone while she’s FaceTimed Yelena.

So, there’s no denying you have a crush on her. Especially not when you enter the home and she’s standing in the kitchen with very little clothes on.

“We’re here!” Yelena calls out.

“Good to see you, sestra,” Natasha says, coming to the foyer. “I was just coming in from the pool.” She hugs her sister and kisses her cheek. “And it’s y/n, right?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you again,” you say.

Natasha smiles in agreement. It’s nice for her to see you again too. She turns back towards the kitchen and you can’t help but watch her body as she does so. The bikini bottoms she’s wearing leaves you able to see most of her.

“Hey, eyes off,” Yelena snaps at you.

“Sorry,” you reply.

You two go up the stairs and put your bags in Yelena’s room. She gives you a quick tour of the house before you two decide to go get lunch.

“We’re going to the diner, Nat. Do you want anything?” Yelena asks.

“No thanks. But hey, Mama is cooking dinner so eat a lot now,” Natasha says.

“Is she not a good cook?” You ask. Both of the girls chuckle. You’ll take that as a yes.

“Come on.” Yelena pulls you outside to her car.

You listen to the usual music as you drive there. Inside, you find a bustling group of tables and food that smells delicious.

Yelena knows a few people and they call her over to their table. You follow quietly.

“Yelena, you’re back in town!” A boy says excitedly. He stands up to hug her.

“Yes, yes Peter. The life of the party has returned,” Yelena says.

“Welcome back,” a girl speaks up this time. You recognize her from photos. She glances at you. “I’m Wanda.”

“Y/n,” you supply. “I’m Yelena’s roommate.”

The table greets you and you two sit down with them. Yelena orders you way too much food. The conversation is easy to join in on even though the friends have known each other forever.

They tell you about a party later tonight and Yelena says you’ll be there. When you go back to her house, Natasha is dressed in a cropped tank top and blue jean shorts.

“Yelena, malyshka!” Melina greets her. She hugs her even when Yelena protests it.

“My girls back in the same home!” Alexei adds in. He hugs Yelena too.

You politely greet them and ask if they need any help with dinner. They sho you away from the kitchen.

Yelena goes up to her room to change so that leaves you in the dining room with Natasha.

“So, how’s school going?” Nat asks.

“It’s going well. Not as hard as I thought it would be,” you say.

“You must be one smart girl then,” Natasha says.

“I’d like to think so.”

“And how’s Yelena doing? She doesn’t ever have much to say about it all.”

Natasha looks genuinely concerned about her sister.

“Yeah she’s good too. I make her get up for class most days,” you say. That makes Nat chuckle.

“Thank you for looking out for her,” Natasha says. She stands from her seat and places a hand on your shoulder. Her grip is strong as she looks into your eyes. “I owe you. If you need anything, let me know, okay?”

“Oh- okay,” you say. Something about her words seem loaded with meaning.

Yelena comes back downstairs and the rest of the family comes into the dining room. Dinner goes well. You enjoy the banter of the group. Soon, you head off to the party.

It’s fun for a while. You meet some more of Yelena’s friends and have a few drinks. Nothing crazy. But when you’re ready to leave, Yelena has her eyes on taking someone home.

“Yelena, let’s go,” you say. The girl is drunk, you can tell that much.

“Kate is coming with me!” She says. You know they have a history, so you don’t even question it.

“Okay. Come on, lovebirds.”

You get back to the house okay and Yelena runs off with Kate to her bedroom. You figure that leaves you with the couch and no clothes to change into.

You’ve only been sitting on it for a few minutes when Natasha comes down the stairs. She catches sight of you.

“My sister kick you out?” She asks.

“She’s having her own sleepover,” you say with a dry chuckle.

“Brutal,” Nat teases. “Come with me.”

“What?”

She doesn’t reply, but you follow her anyways. Upstairs, she directs you into her bedroom.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, y/n,” Nat says. She opens her drawers and takes out a shirt and shorts for you. “And you’re not sleeping in those clothes.”

You don’t argue with her. You only go down the hallway and change into the clothes. Natasha likes the way you look in her clothes.

She pulls down the sheets next to her and gestures for you get in. You slip under them, enjoying the feeling of a real bed under you.

“Thank you, Natasha,” you say.

“Of course. Sorry my sister is a shitty host,” Nat says.

You lie back on the pillows. Nat turns to look at you. You hold eye contact with her.

“It’s okay. She’s all tied up in that girl.”

“I know. Surely, someone is all tied up in you too,” Natasha says.

“Nope,” you say dryly.

“No? Why not?” Nat asks.

“It’s just not really happened for me yet,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” Natasha assures you.

“What does it feel like?” You ask. It’s somewhat rhetorical but you also want to know Nat’s answer.

“To be in love? Or to have sex? It’s not the same thing,” Nat says.

“Either.”

“Hm, well what about kissing someone? Have you done that?”

You shake your head and turn away shyly. She reaches her hand out to turn your face back towards her.

“Do you want to?” She asks.

“I- um-“

“We don’t have to,” Nat says. “But I thought maybe this is how I could repay you for looking after my sister.”

“Yes,” you say.

“Yeah?”

“Please yes,” you say.

Natasha smirks and leans in. She stops a couple inches from your lips. Your heart beats so fast in your chest.

She closes the distance and kisses your lips. You barely move, not really knowing what to do or how to kiss her back. But Natasha doesn’t mind. She deepens the kiss.

And you pick up on how to do it quickly. She grins against your lips. Your hands move across her chest to grab her breasts.

“I’m sorry,” you say when she pulls away.

“No, don’t apologize. I’m willing to go as far as you want, y/n,�� Natasha says.

“Then keep kissing me,” you say, already feeling addicted to her lips on yours.

Natasha obliges and kisses you again and again and again. Soon, both of your shirts are discarded. Natasha isn’t wearing a bra and the sight of her above you makes you stop in place.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say, admiring her perfect body.

“Thank you, detka,” the Russian falls off her tongue. “Let me show you how beautiful you are too.”

Nat slips your bra off and immediately takes one of your nipples in her mouth. It’s a new sensation. One that you absolutely love. She listens for every sound you make to see what she wants to do more of.

You moan out loudly when she moves her hand down your abdomen and under your shorts. Her hand brushes against your folds and your body jerks in reaction.

“Is this okay?” Natasha asks. Her voice is deep, breathy.

“Yes please, I want you,” you say.

“Okay, baby. Lay back and relax. I’ll take care of you,” Natasha says.

She kisses down your body as she moves to lay between your legs. Your shorts come off along with your panties. You’re self conscious about no one ever seeing you like this before, but you feel better when Natasha dives in.

Nat places kisses around your center and her tongue moves through your folds. She takes her time worshipping you. You try to lean up on your elbows to watch but the pleasure is so strong that you have to stay on your back.

“Fuck Nat. That feels so good,” you say when her thumb brushes over your clit.

“I know, sweetheart. Be a good girl and tell me more,” Natasha says. Her voice vibrates against you.

“I want to come for you to Natasha. I want you to be the first person to make me come,” you say.

“Fuck,” Nat mumbles against you. She grinds her own pussy against the bed.

It’s only a few more minutes before you’re getting a feeling like you’re about to come for Natasha.

“I think- Nat- I’m going to- fuck,” you mumble as your hips move erratically.

“Come for me, y/n. You can do it,” Natasha says.

And you do. For the first time, you understand what it feels like to be taken care of.

“So fucking good,” Natasha says as she cleans you up.

She moves up your body and kisses your lips again. Her tongue moves against yours as you continue to get the hang of it.

Natasha lays next to you to catch her breath and let you catch your own. Her hand intertwines with yours.

“That’s what it feels like,” Natasha says.

“Every time?” You ask. You can’t help the grin on your face.

“No, not every time. But when you really like someone, yes.”

“You- um- you like me?”

“Yes, y/n,” Natasha says. “I really like you.”

You whisper a small yes and Natasha chuckles. She kisses your cheek.

“Can I- um-“

“I’d love for you too, but you don’t have to, babe. I’m okay with just pleasing you,” Natasha says.

“No, no. I want you to feel good too.”

“I already do,” Nat says. “But yeah if you want to, go ahead.”

You smile and shift to lay over Natasha. She kisses you deeply before you move down her body.

Natasha helps you please her in all of the ways she likes. By the end of the night, you’re both exhausted but so happy.

You fall asleep in her arms and wake up to the beautiful sight of her sleeping. She wakes up and snuggles further into you.

After a few good morning kisses, you get dressed and go downstairs together. Yelena notices you wearing Nat’s clothes and the two of you sharing secret glances.

But she only smiles. She always knew you two would find your way together.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff smut #yelena belova #wanda maximoff

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frostbitebakery · 5 months ago

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Nutshell.

“Let’s put you out of your misery,” Doom says, checking the charge on his blasters while keeping an eye on the stray droid crawling towards an abandoned E-5 rifle.

“You’re mine,” Doom grits out, gets his fingers around the leg of the droid making for General Tiplar. He pulls, rolls. The droid is on his chest and he clamps an arm around it, sinks his knife into its neck. Wipes the blood out of his eyes.

“I need answers,” Doom says, arms crossed so he doesn’t try to strangle the holo. “See that you get them.”

“I will get them,” Rex promises, voice stoic to resemble a Commander’s.

Doom doesn’t snort but it’s a close call.

“I’m sorry for your lo—“

He flicks the comm off. He doesn’t have the capacity for niceties.

Tiplee is slowly finishing the transport box for her sister. “We fought a lot growing up,” she says. “We were in separate crèche clans even.”

His jaw ticks under his bucket.

“We only grew close once we were both adults. People are in motion, always. In body, in spirit. Sometimes you are only meant to meet at later points in your life even if you’ve known each other since you were born.” She strokes a careful hand over Tiplar’s forehead. “I will let you say your goodbyes.”

Doom steps up to the box once Tiplee is gone.

Tiplar hasn’t gone grey yet. There’s a furrow burnt in her brows, the confusion over a clone shooting her carrying her to death.

“I will watch over her,” he states. Promises don’t mean anything in war. So he doesn’t promise. His heart skips a beat. He was meant to watch over Tiplar as well.

“Botany,” he slurs out, clinks his cup to Tiplee’s when she holds hers up. “I love sunshine. And plants. There’s so many!”

“I’m gonna,” she hiccups, booze sloshing over the rim of her cup when she points at him, “I’m gonna sneak you into the gardens in the Temple and show you the strawberry patch.”

“Sneak?” He thought everything in the Triple Zero Temple is free to roam for all Jedi.

“Totally,” Tiplee agrees with an enthusiastic nod and he realizes he’s spoken aloud. “But sneaking is funnierer— funner— funyun?”

He nods right back. “Funyun sounds right.”

“What do you mean, poisoned?” Doom asks. According to survival sim training, the strawberries look pretty unpoisoned.

Tiplee holds up a berry, turns it around a bit. “The Dark is ever growing. Spreading throughout the Galaxy, into the earth of every planet. It has changed the very matter of things.” She smiles up at him. “I remember them sweeter.”

“I will help your strawberries be the best they can be, I— promise.” He wretches the word out of himself. Pulls and pulls until it’s off his tongue and out in the open. “Hold on until then, yes?”

Tiplee smiles at him, taps her thumb against his temple. “Doom, you have found a place where you feel you are meant to be. It will be alright even if my time has come.”

“Uhm,” he says. Blinks. Swallows.

Maxir leans back, hands disappearing into the robe sleeves. ��I’ve read this wrong?”

Probably not? “I don’t know,” he almost says until instinct takes over to not show indecisiveness. “Yes.”

Maxir’s face colors. He doesn’t tend to get cute blush spots high on his cheeks but rather an all consuming flush that looks close to blistering. “I’m sorry. I misjudged. It will not happen again.”

Jedi are so graceful in their apologies, Doom has learned. It’s charming.

He holds up a ripe non-perfect strawberry. “You look like this.”

“I beg your pardon—“

“You’re safe,” Doom gasps, wildly looking at Maxir’s frozen figure. “You’re safe.”

“Come here. Sit down.”

The calm authority in Maxir’s voice has him on his feet and back on the ground before he knows it.

“You are safe,” Maxir reassures him for whatever reason, filling Doom’s spotty vision and leaving room for not much else. “May I touch you?”

It’s a new helper droid. Gangly limbs for reaching deep into the foliage without damaging it. Looking like a B-1. The clippers looking like a blaster.

Its head lies halfway across another crop’s field. The body stabbed with its own limbs and the clippers.

“You are safe.”

Doom doesn’t believe him yet.

“I don’t recognize you anymore,” Doom says to his reflection.

There’s laughter lines around his eyes, his mouth. He has freckles from the sun. Permanent dirt under his nails he recognizes as dirt, not blood. His body is covered in flowers.

Last night he met up with the last of the 962nd and Master Tiplee. Six, Mimic, and a few others had helped him haul around the huge crates of produce into the AgriCorps’ building and kitchen.

They’d blasted each other’s asses while peeling, tasting, cooking, and fighting over seasoning. They fell asleep under the stars, occupying chairs and hammocks dotting the terraces. Tiplee had drooled on his shoulder, the tips of her fingers still red with strawberry juice.

“I don’t recognize you anymore.”

“Mrnng,” Maxir mumbles, slowly shuffling his way past Doom to the shower.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Doom says to his reflection.

“No,” Doom murmurs, wrings his shoulder against the doorframe to Maxir’s office.

The desk is cluttered with data pads and flimsiwork bearing the AgriCorps seal. Analyzing crop conditions and rotations has taken up most of what is left of their day after tending to the fields and labs.

Maxir looks at him over his glasses before pushing them up, ruffling the short hair just under one of the horns. “No? I surely thought there was caf left…”

Doom pushes himself away from the door, takes the three steps to the desk before sitting down on a free-ish spot. “No, you didn’t read it wrong,” he non-explains. “Also, for safety reasons I disposed of the last of the caf.”

Maxir glances at the clock above the desk. “It’s been five hours. The sludge level must still be within reason.”

Doom blinks blandly at him.

Maxir blinks back before it visibly clicks. “Oh!” He buffs the back of his hand against Doom’s thigh. “I told you I’m nearly always right. Also,” he parrots back with a mischievous grin, “the fact we’ve kissed and held hands and you let me dote on you—“

“Excessively.”

“Excessively,” Maxir agrees. “I broke all constraints when I bought you last meal that one time.”

Doom pushes Maxir away from him by way of the rolling chair he’s sitting in while Maxir recalls in detail and with a lot of hand gestures how Doom had gracefully accepted being cared for.

“Or when you let me clean all the petri dishes by myself,” Maxir says excitedly, seat slowly spinning in a circle. “You were snoring so adorably on the lab bench.”

“I regret meeting you.”

“Mimir shoo for half the night cycle!” The chair slowly rotates back towards Doom. Maxir’s eyes soften. “I, for one, am very glad we met when we did.”

WIP and backstory

#commander doom #star wars #star wars tcw #star wars fanart #commander doomxoc #<- sorry about that #my art #frostbitebakery art

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saturnville · 4 months ago

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what happens in madrid… [1/2]

pairing: jude bellingham x black oc (naomi sinclair) summary: what happens in madrid… warnings: none. tags: @emjayewrites @cocobutterqwueen @neeville @neewrites @cosmic-parker + anyone else who likes football fics? let me know if you want to be added! an: when I tell you this took me forever…I truly hope you like my delusions put into a fic 🩵 and this gif!!!

part two: …stays in madrid

“Let me take you out. Make your trip one to remember.”

Naomi considered herself a smart woman. University-educated with street smarts that were more profound than a person would assume for her age. She intentionally thought through every scenario; understanding that everything she said, thought, and did came with a consequence.

She didn’t know what it would take to see a six-foot man with caramel skin and chocolate brown eyes approaching her at a local restaurant and boldly attempting to woo her, to let go of all her inhibitions and throw her common sense out the window. She knew him, yes, but she didn’t know him. Hell, he could kill her within the next five minutes.

Did it phase her? No. For once, she let her curiosity outweigh her logical mind and fell victim to his gleaming smile and charming nature. She was on vacation, she tried to reason the best she could. On vacation and being pursued by a fine young man who insisted she have a good time during her stay. So, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a smile that raised his eyebrows in interest. “Pick me up from here tomorrow.”

“Well aren’t you beautiful,” he complimented as she walked toward his vehicle, dark and brooding, much unlike the man he’d presented himself as. His comment had her lips curling upward to a smile. She thanked him, accepted the kiss on her cheek, and tried not to fold when he guided her to the passenger’s seat.

“Thank you,” Naomi replied after some time. “You are dually handsome, sir.” And that was a fact. She appreciated his subtle approach to fashion. Everything he wore was high-end, that was evident, but it wasn’t flashy. His aura and confidence spoke for him. He wore the black button-down and matching short set with an easy confidence. The dark sunglasses over his eyes completed the look, only emphasizing her thoughts.

Jude smiled and proceeded to drive out of the hotel lot. They engaged in small conversation, picking up from where they left off the previous night. They were different but had a lot in common. She, too, was the oldest of two, save she had a sister rather than a brother. Unlike her, her sister didn’t take an interest in football, rather participated in cheerleading and went to university on a cheer scholarship.

“That’s amazing,” Jude commented genuinely. “She graduated right?”

Naomi shook her head. “Not yet; she’s still got time. She’s a first-year, but she’s already planning her graduation trip. She wants to go to England.” His ears perked up and a sly smile crept on his lips. She rolled her eyes playfully but accepted his proposal to share places she should visit whenever her sister went to England.

“You know,” Jude spoke minutes later as he guided her out of the vehicle. She took his extended hand and thanked him, straightening her thigh-length skirt. “I don’t hear Spain as a place for solo travel often. What prompted that?”

Her response was delayed by her infatuation with the sights above her. They were outside of a museum. Not just any museum, but the National Archaeological Museum. She was inwardly awed. He took note of her love for history and art and took her to the museum. She could kiss him right then and there.

“Glad you took my advice and wore comfortable shoes.” They both glanced at her New Balance sneakers that complimented her neutral-toned outfit. She wore a gray cropped top, knee-length distressed shorts, and a white fitted cap to match. “We’ll be out for a while. I know a good lunch place not too far away if you want to go later.”

Naomi smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, it’s so beautiful!’ Naomi refrained from touching the meticulously handcrafted bust in front of her. Her eyes gleamed with wonder and adoration. She adored museums. They were where art and history kissed and refused to gasp for air. There was nothing like it.

From behind her, Jude nodded slowly, not paying much attention to the busts, but rather her child-like excitement and sun-like glow. He could have cursed himself for doing all of this for a woman he’d met less than 36 hours before, but the feeling deep within him outweighed the logic his brain tried to present him with.

A pretty woman whom he just happened to speak to at dinner had agreed to let him take her around Madrid for vacation. Just as he did, she’d taken such a liking to him that she agreed to spend time with him until she left ten days later. He had ten days to be in her presence and he’d been damned if he let his mind ruin it.

“Yeah,” Jude spoke up after some time, his eyes following her. “Very beautiful.”

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naomisinclair such a beautiful city

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adyajalyn girl who took that picture and who’s arm is that

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adyajalyn you go out of the country once and start befriending strangers like a dumbass

adyajalyn is he cute though?

— naomisinclair very

judeb pretty

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“So, do you plan on returning to Madrid in the future?” Jude asked as they walked in a local park, hand in hand. Naomi tilted her head to the sky and swung their hands together. “Or was this a one-time trip?”

“I’ll be back. Especially if I have a reason to return.” She turned her head to meet his eyes, which were already awaiting hers. She saw something within them--excitement, interest, and desire. It made her stomach clench and her face grow warm. “So, hopefully, I will.”

The wheels began to turn in his mind. She’d be gone in ten days. He’d go on break in fourteen days. Would he be insane to try and get to know a woman who was nowhere near Madrid? Maybe. But, who doesn't like a little crazy?

After some time, Jude spoke up, “I’d like to think you will.”

Her eyes twinkled. She said nothing after that but the step she took closer to his body said more words than her mouth could and he accepted it gratefully.

“You can come in if you’d like,” Naomi said shyly as they stood outside the door of her hotel. Her fingers fondled her braids as she awaited his response.

Jude’s lips spread in a content smile as he nodded. “I appreciate that. Give me some time to shower and I’ll be back.”

Naomi grinned like a kid in the candy shop. They exchanged their goodbyes and she was left to freshen up and keep her mind occupied as she waited for his arrival.

Shortly after her shower, she got a phone call from Adya, whose face was filled with interest as she immediately asked, “Who is he?”

Naomi chuckled, “Well hello to you, too. And to answer your question, he’s a nice guy I befriended at dinner one day. Just showing me around the city. And before you call me a dumbass, yes I know it was dangerous.”

“As long as you know,” Adya shrugged. She then smiled softly. “Is he treating you nicely at least? Not a total creep?”

Naomi nodded. Jude was more than nice. He was incredibly kind and attentive. The thought of her leaving the following week drove her mad but she tried her best not to ponder on it too much. She’d enjoy the present moment.

“He’s a nice guy. Sucks that I’ll leave, but that’s why I’m just basking in the moment.”

Adya hummed. “If you’d like to make it work, it could be possible. Would take a lot of effort, but it could work if you both wanted it to. I think you might have to build a friendship first, though.” That drew a small laugh from Naomi who agreed wholeheartedly.

Just as she was peeped to respond, his name dropped down from a banner.

Jude

— Hey, pretty girl. I’m outside.

Adya, not blind to Naomi’s sudden grin, hollered and said, “Girl, go talk to that man and call me in the morning.”

“Bye Ady!”

Naomi tossed her phone on the bed and kept off the mattress. She patted her braids, soothed her sweatshirt, wriggled her manicured toes, and strode toward the door, opening it wide.

Jude stood on the other side, a smile on his face as he held up a dark bag. “I come bearing gifts.” Naomi moved out his way and allowed his entry. “This is a nice room.”

“Thank you. The booking company gave me hell so they upgraded me to a suite.” Naomi pointed to his bag and tilted her head to the side. “What do you have there?” She sat on the bed and he joined her.

“Heard through the grapevine you like popcorn, chocolate, and good movies.” Out of the bag came varieties of chocolate, a large bag of popcorn, and his laptop, fully equipped with any streaming service of her choice. “Figured we would watch one or two together.”

Naomi grinned like an idiot for the hundredth time that day. He was so considerate it almost hurt. Without much thought, she said, “I could kiss you right now.”

The way Jude’s eyes widened made her heart quicken but the feeling of his lips on hers shortly after caused it to nearly burst in her chest.

He was such a good kisser, she noted, appreciating how he took control yet was very gentle with her. His hands didn’t roam below her waist and he didn’t try to force his tongue down her throat. It was the perfect blend between respectful and polite and grown and sexy. Just as she liked it.

“I like you,” he whispered some time after they pulled away. Naomi’s eyes softened at his confession. She noted how he tried to catch his breath, how his cheeks were rosy from his body temperature rising, how his lips were slightly swollen and smeared with her lip gloss. He was so beautiful.

“Jude…”

He didn’t let her finish. “I like you and it’s crazy because it’s been less than 48 hours but Naomi, there’s just something about you.” Swoon. “You’ll go back home and I’ll be here, but I want to see what my life could look like with you in it. Give you a reason to come back.”

Naomi laughed lightly. Not because anything he said was funny, but because of the insanity of it all. She’d fallen head first for a man she’d known for two days and blushed at every word he said like his sentences were crafted by Shakespeare.

“I like you too,” she admitted. “And I feel crazy saying that because we’re strangers.”

Jude’s eyebrows raised as he nodded. That was the unfortunate fact, but, “We’ve got a few more days to become more than strangers.”

And that they did.

“Jude!” Naomi squealed as he tapped her shoulder, causing her to fall in the pool. She didn’t get the opportunity to wipe the water from her eyes before Jude jumped in beside her. She squealed loudly then giggled when he scooped her into his arms.

“That wasn’t nice,” she said, pouting playfully. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her manicured fingers combed through the thick curls on his head, an action that made his eyes flutter. “I’m gonna get you back.”

“Is that so?” he asked, fingers caressing her thighs that were locked around his waist. Naomi nodded, eyes dropping to his lips. “Gonna have to get me first.”

Naomi, as flirtatious as ever, only has to bat her eyelashes a few times and brush her lips against his for him to crumble immediately. The perfect way to get him distracted enough to wriggle herself from his grip and dunk his head into the water.

“Oof!”

Her laugh was loud and boisterous, but he enjoyed hearing it all the same. Jude wiped his eyes when he came up from the water and gave her a look. Naomi giggled as she tried to back away, but her movement was restricted by the water.

Once again, she was scooped into his arms. “You play dirty,” he said. “I like it.”

Naomi smiled. The feelings she felt with him were unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Her face always hurt from smiling, she felt giddy whenever he arrived at her door or called her phone. How would she possibly be able to deal with the distance?

“I’ve got to go, Jude, or I’ll miss my flight,” Naomi whispered, tugging her hand out of his grasp gently. “I’ve got to go.”

The dreaded day had arrived. Naomi had to go back home and they’d be without each other (physically) until their schedules aligned again. It was something neither of them wanted to think of but like always, time brought reality back to them.

“I don’t want you to go,” the footballer admitted, swinging their hands back and forth. Naomi smiled sadly, using her free hand to caress his face.

“I don’t want to go either, but we’ll call, text, and FaceTime as much as we can, and we’ll figure it out. We can figure it out.”

Jude’s lips parted to respond but her flight being called over the speakers cut him off. He sighed heavily. Naomi bit her lip to pierce her quivering lips. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jude replied. He pressed a kiss against her lips.“Call me when you land, alright?” Naomi nodded and took her roller bag in her hand and began to walk toward her gate.

“Bye Jude.”

He waved sadly.“I’ll see you soon, Naomi.”

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naomisinclair until next time, madrid.

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saturnville and so it begins!

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #x black oc #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x black oc #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham x black!reader #real madrid #la liga #ucl #real madrid x reader

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amememightywarrior · 3 months ago

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Food in Dawntrail

Gonna go ahead and share my thoughts on it as posted on twitter, excuse the format!

I found the prevalence of food in DT's MSQ very interesting. In a lot of cultures, food and food-sharing are acts of love both familial and neighborly. It also symbolized a desire to reach out and understand one another, from xibruq pibil to tacos to ice cream to weird grapes.

Our first encounter with food in DT is when Wuk Lamat wants to give us some tacos, but then BJJ smashes them carelessly, a sign that he is rejecting sharing and love

During the lay of repast, which is ALL about food, we learn a lot about the symbolism of meals and food and culture. It's great.

Zoraal Ja and Bakool Ja Ja are teamed up and shown to not understand or care about food and sharing despite the BLATANT emphasis on it in the trial.

More subtle stuff that isn't called out is the way food is raised - like the Crystarium, where wandering around can reveal the importance, if you wander around DT you can find an example of what's called the three sisters method of farming.

For those unfamiliar with this system, it's actually a very culturally important method of farming in the americas where 3 staple crops, maize, squash, and beans, are grown together in a harmonious fashion. and i mean TOGETHER.

The maize, which grows tall and strong, provides support for the beanstalks which curl around it and provide stabilization both physically and nutritionally. At their feet grows the ground-covering squash which shades the soil, keeping it moist and preventing weeds.

The next major time we learn of food and agriculture is in heritage found, where we see people preserving real food as an act of culture more than anything else, showing the resilience of culture and the spirit of sharing in even the most lightning riddled situations.

After that it gets interesting. The concept of food in S9 is abstracted into the absurd (the grapes??? help), but they still share the food. More than that, it's a SPECTATOR sport, seeing WoL and Wuk Lamat eat. If you've ever been to a dinner with a family of a different culture, you will know the experience of tasting a new cuisine for the first time, and people asking you what you think of it. They share their culture with you and hope you approve. It's the sharing of joy, and it's the same as when you eat in S9.

Then we're REALLY challenged. We enter living memory and find the inhabitants feasting on the mere idea of food. They share with us as well, giving us popcorn. Did you lie and say it was great? Did you speak the truth of your tastebuds and reject the popcorn?

The food in living memory is tasteless to us, the only real ones in the place. But the act of sharing, that was the real important part. And so perhaps if WoL lied, it was not to spare feelings, but to show that yes, they were sharing in joy and culture.

Thus introduced, we are hit with that ice cream. We know it tastes of nothing, but we give it to Krile and her parents to share. Krile knows it doesn't taste like anything, and she struggles. But G'raha zips in with his own, to make her laugh and help her understand the joy.

The way each character reacts to food within DT is symbolic and shows a bit of their own perspectives. Someone who's very out on the edges, Estinien, is also someone who has embraced food very heavily after being freed from Nidhogg. He runs around eating everything in sight now.

And of course we also have the cornservant, who wants to feed everyone. I haven't actually done that quest line yet but I can already tell you what's at the heart of it XD

A lot of this we all know, I'm just calling it out specifically because it was beautifully done in DT.

Oh, before I forget: Otis and Gulool Ja

Otis, despite being, er...mechanical, has been feeding Gulool Ja. It is a familial act, feeding and helping this child grow despite zero relation.

is it just another fetch quest? Another shared meal of many shared meals in the field? Or is it asking us to look at this meal in the context of all that came before it?

What does it mean to love and care for one another? Otis shows it by being there and feeding Gulool Ja.

It contrasts with two other parties: Cahciuna's group, and Zoraal Ja.

Zoraal Ja does nothing. He does not feed his child. Abandoned him outright. ZJ rejects family, love, and sharing.

Cahciuna's group is trying really hard to take care of him, and he does allow it because they keep finding and taking him home. But why does he run away to eat with Otis? Cahciuna's response to realizing he WANTS to leave is to allow it instead of insisting.

I find that rather mysterious but I think it shows Gulool Ja prefers organic sharing, not S9 where everything is simply handed to him. Hopefully we see more of him in the future so we can learn wtf is up with this little blue-scaled cutie.

Food takes a background role in a lot of stories but DT took it, explained it, and then challenged our understanding by taking away the most talked about component, stripping away flavor to ask us what the point of food-sharing really is and how it reflects ourselves & our culture.

We've seen a lot of these themes before - ARR used to have a whole thing about feeding the soldiers before the assault on the garlean strongholds, SHB had the infamous rhon ron food stand scene, etc

we just got it called out repeatedly and the concept gently deconstructed for us in DT.

So. what does the act of food-sharing mean to you? What does it mean to your WoL? How did you see the Lay of Repast? What did you think of the popcorn?

#dawntrail spoilers #Dawntrail #food in dawntrail #squapes #dawntrail analysis #there are a lot of details in MSQ if you slow down and take the time to look #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #7.0 spoilers

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thealtoduck · 5 months ago

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Being a waterbender living in the Earth Kingdom and meeting Team Avatar…

Sokka x Male Waterbender!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: While stocking up on supplies in a small village, team avatar finds a waterbender in an unlikely place…

——

Sokka’s pov:

Appa landed deep in the forest and Aang, Katara and Sokka started setting up camp for the night. Katara prepared their dinner as Aang and Sokka set up the tent and fed Appa and Momo.

”We’ll need to go to that village and stock up on more food we’re almost out, there’s barely enough for the three of us” Katara told the other two. ”There was a farm on the outskirts of town, I could go see if they have anything we could take” Sokka suggested.

”Sokka, you can’t just steal food, it’s for the towns people” Aang told him. ”Oh please, you saw how big the fields were, what’s a couple of vegetables? There will be plenty left, plus we need this food to get to the Northern Water Tribe so you can learn waterbending to save the world, I’m sure they’d want us to have their food” Sokka said standing up.

”I’ll be back soon” he said grabbing a small basket, walking in the direction of the farm. Once he reached it he stumbled over the fence on to the fields. Using a dagger to cut free a couple of vegetables and put them in the basket.

All of a sudden out of nowhere a blast of water knocked Sokka to the the ground making him drop the food basket. ”Katara?!” Sokka yelled but when he looked up he didn’t see Katara.

He was met with a pretty boy his own age with y/h/c hair and y/c/s skin, in a set of light jade green robes, that had water lilies embroided on them. He looked mad.

”What are you doing?” he asked in a dangerous tone. ”I-I-” Sokka tried but his voice got caught in his throat, he didn’t know what was more shocking that he found a waterbender in the northern parts of the Earth Kingdom or that he found him really attractive.

The boys face turned from stern annoyance, to a studying look as he looked Sokka up and down. ”Are-Are you from the Water Tribe?” the boy asked curiously. ”Yes” Sokka answered. ”Wow… I’ve never met anyone apart from mom from the Water Tribe…” the boy uttered.

”Are you from the North or South?” he asked. ”Southern Water Tribe” he answered more relaxed now that the look on you face wasn’t dripping with venom. Sokka then found some more courage to say ”Look, I’m sorry for stealing your crops, me, my sister and my friend are traveling and we’re almost completely out of food, if you want I can pay you for all this”.

The boy considered for a moment and then said ”Come with me, grab the basket”. Sokka did as told and followed the boy as he led him towards the farmer’s house, the two stopped outside and said ”Wait here”. As he went inside.

A few minutes later the boy came back out and put something in Sokka’s basket. A loaf of bread, some herbs, and a bottle of fruit juice. ”There you go, should make a nice meal” the boy said.

Sokka got confused but the boy spoke up again saying ”You know, me and my family like to house travelers when they pass through and it’s gonna get cold tonight, so if you need a place to sleep tonight just knock, okay?”.

Sokka was stunned, a couple of minutes ago he had just tried to steal from this family and now he was being offered a place to spend the night. ”Thank you” he found himself saying warmly. ”No worries” the boy said turning back towards the house.

”I’m Sokka” Sokka blurted not wanting the interaction to end just yet. The boy turned to him with a smile. ”I’m Y/n, hope to see you later, Sokka” he said and rentered the house.

”Wow” Sokka uttered quietly turning around making his way back to Katara and Aang. As they cooked the food they’d been given he explained eagerly to them about the boy. ”Are you sure he’s a waterbender and that he didn’t just throw a bucket of water at you?” Katare asked skeptical that there’d be a waterbender in this town.

”Yeah, he said his Mother was from the Water Tribe” Sokka insisted. Aang wrapped himself in a blanket. ”Maybe we should take him up on the offer, it’s starting to get chilly out here” Aang recommeded. Sokka agreed eagerly and Katara seemed curious about the idea of meeting another water bender.

Your pov:

There was a knock on the door and you went to open, being met with Sokka followed by another boy, a girl and a lemur. ”Glad you could make it, come in my mom just made some tea” you said and were introduced to Aang and Katara. And of course the lemur Momo.

You helped them get Appa in to the barn and they joined you inside. You sat down around the table as your mother served tea to you and your guests. ”Y/n? Sokka told us your a water bender, is that true?” Katara asked.

”Yeah, I am” you said showing her by lifting the tea out of your cup, before putting it back in. ”I’m not that good though, I don’t get much practice since the fire nation is always snooping around” you explained.

”Good enough to knock Sokka of his feet” Aang commented. ”It was a suprise attack!” Sokka defended himself making you, Aang and Katara laugh.

You conversed with the three for well over an hour, they had so many stories, Aang being the Avatar, how he met Sokka and Katara, them running from the Fire Nation multiple times. They’d had quite the long journey.

Your Father and Aang ended up in the barn as Aang wanted to see the farm animals, your Mother and Katara sat and discussed the Water Tribe. Leaving only you and Sokka…

”Would you like to see where you’ll be staying?” you asked him. ”Yeah, sure” he said. You led him to the guest room and told him ”This is the guest room, hope you’ll find it comfortable, if you need anything my room is right across”.

”If you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna get ready for bed” you said yawning and turned to your room but Sokka grabbed your hand and you turned back around. ”Thank you, for doing so much for us, it means a lot” Sokka said with a grateful smile.

”Anything for our fellow Water Tribe folk and the Avatar, Of course” you told him. You then said ”Goodnight” and opened the door to your room. ”Goodnight” Sokka said as you then disappeared in to your room.

He wanted to find a way to repay your kindness.

Next morning when you woke up you helped your mother in the kitchen with the breakfast. When you brought out the servings of food to the others you saw your father was eagerly conversing with Sokka.

Your father then spoke up and asked ”Y/n? Could you please show Aang and Katara around the village?”. ”Don’t you need me around the farm?” you questioned. Your father shook his head and said ”No, Sokka offered to do your work for today so you’d be able to take the day off and relax”.

”Oh! Well then I’d be honored to show you the village” you said with a smile and a small bow.

Once breakfast was finished you waited for Aang and Katara so you could leave for the village. You saw Sokka prepare for the days work at the farm.

”Thank you for taking over my work” you told him gratefully. ”It’s the least i could do after everything you and your family has done for us” Sokka said. You smiled as you looked in to Sokka’s eyes, it was like it only now dawned on you how handsome he was.

”You’re so pretty” Sokka uttered, catching you off guard making you think you’d heard him wrong. ”What?” you questioned. ”I-I mean… your robes are so pretty, you know, such a nice color and what are those? Water lilies? So nicely detailed” Sokka blabbed gesturing to the embroidered flowers on the bottom of your robes.

”Uhm… Thanks” you said still a bit stunned at the interaction.

Soon Katara and Aang arrived and you made your way to the village. You showed them around the different market stands, as they filled their baskets with food and supplies for their travels.

You even bought some treats that you snacked on in the middle of the town square, watching people at work and as they greeted they interacted with each other.

But soon the peace was broken as Fire Nation soldiers entered the village, Aang and Katara were quick to grab you and pull you in to an alley between two houses.

The leader of the Fire Nation soldiers moved to the front ”Where is the Avatar?! We’ve gotten word that last time he was spotted he was heading in the direction of this village”. The crowd stood silent.

”Well then if you don’t want to talk, then maybe we’ll have to show you what happens when you hold the truth from the Fire Nation” the leader said and his soldiers surrounded one of the market stands.

You could see Aang and Katara readying themselves for battle but you held up your hand to them and said ”Don’t”. Before you could explain the Fire Nation soldiers set the market stand a blaze.

Katara and Aang started running out of the alley but you grabbed them and pulled them both back. ”Don’t! We need to get you two back to the farm”.

”But they’ll destroy your village” Aang pleaded. ”No, they’re only trying to scare information out of us, they don’t know you were actually here” you told them and they gave you a questioning look.

”They’ll only want to destroy us if they knew you guys were here and we’ve been hiding it from them, but if they think you were never here then they’ll leave us alone” you explained.

You turned back to look at the leader of the soldiers as he told the crowd ”Tonight, after the assigned curfew we’ll search your houses and if we find a single sign the Avatar was here your village will suffer the wrath of the Fire Nation”. He then turned his back and he and his soldiers left the village.

You turned to Katara and Aang and said ”Go back to the farm, get Sokka and hide in the barn, we’ll have to figure out a way to smuggle you out without the Fire Nation seeing you” you said.

You then walked out to the village square and water bended some of the water out of a fountain to help put out the market stand.

When you got back to the farm you went in to the barn where the Avatar and his friends were waiting as instructed. ”Were everybody in village, alright?” Aang asked. ”Yes, they’re fine just a bit shaken” you told him.

”But we need to figure out how to get you guys out of here before the Fire Nation comes back” you stated. There was a moment of silence before Sokka said ”I have a plan”.

His plan was that when it turned dark he and the others would sneak deep in to forest with Appa, before taking off so that you and your family would not be found out with hiding them from the Fire Nation.

”Can I do anything to help?” you asked them. Sokka looked at you with a grateful smile and said ”You’ve already done more than enough for us, you should make sure to stay inside so you’re not seen, to keep you safe” he explained.

”Alright. It’s been really nice meeting you all. Good luck on your journey. I hope I’ll see you again sometime” you said giving them a polite bow, you then left them and made your way back to the house.

As the sun started to set you grew more and more worried the trio, what if they were caught by the Fire Nation, what would happen to them…

Once it was finally dark outside your heart was pounding all through dinner with your parents. You couldn’t take it anymore and as soon as you finished your dinner you went back to your room.

Only to almost scream when you opened the door, finding Sokka climbing through your window. ”Sokka?! What are you doing here?” you panicked. ”Don’t worry, we’re just about to leave, I just quickly wanted to stop by and talk to you” he said.

”About what?” you asked. ”I just needed to thank you again for what you’ve done for us and I wish I had more time to get to know you better cause you seem great” Sokka confessed taking your hand in his. You smiled.

”I wish we had more time too” you said making Sokka smile brightly too. ”Well then, why don’t you come with us, you can learn Waterbending with Aang and Katara up in the Northern Water Tribe too?” Sokka suggested impulsively.

”Sokka, I can’t, I’m needed here with my family and my village, at least for now” you told him, he looked down disappointment.

You then decided on impulse ”But I tell you what, when you guys are done up in the Northern Water Tribe and start traveling the Earth Kingdom, I’d love to join you guys, if you’ll have me”. Sokka frown then turned in to a small smile and he said ”It’s a deal”.

”You should get going now, the Fire Nation will be here soon” you told him. ”Right” Sokka remembered and turned back to climb out of your window. ”Oh and Sokka, one last thing” you said making him turn around. ”Yeah?” he asked and was answered as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

”Stay safe” you added. ”You too” he said planting a kiss on your cheek. He then climbed out of the window and ran off towards Aang and Katara who were trying to stealthily lead Appa in to the woods, hard as it might be. ”How’d it go?” Aang asked. To which Sokka could only reply ”He’s amazing”.

#sokka x male reader #avatar the last airbender #x male!reader #male reader #x male reader #atla x male reader #avatar the last airbender x male reader #team avatar x male reader #sokka x male reader headcanons

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 6 months ago

Note

I know you mean good but fat girls can also break easily. I also don’t mean to sound rude or offend you but it’s rare for fat girls to be 6 foot, I know you might be fat and 6 foot but it’s pretty rare. I think most people stick to petite girls in cod stories because it would be scary and horrifying if they gave reader their sweater and all the sudden reader fits or barely fits in it and it only works as a crop top on them. And please try to remember just because their fat doesn’t mean they aren’t clean fat girls bathe too and do their eyebrows too they aren’t slobs. Fat girls can break when they get laid and yes I believe they also will jiggle around in the process so please try to be mindful when bringing up cod guys with a fat girl

Girl what

I'm 5"2 so idk what you're talking about lmao

Also, I have never once written fat/chubby girls in a bad light, like???

OMG WHAT THEY BATHE?!?!?!?

Ya don't say.

I'm literally a fat girl myself 💀

I've seen this before, so it's probably someone sending it to creators who write for chubby readers to get their point (???) across or something.

People can write whatever they want, okay.

Most writers write with themselves in mind, so the reader will reflect that in subtle ways. I know that the petite girl thing is become sort of a meme on here but like there are girls who look like that lol

And like, this is fiction. I don't know why you're trying to justify only writing for skinny people by saying it might be unrealistic in some ways????

If I say the reader is fat and like Johnny's hoodie is oversize, THEN IT'S FUCKING OVERSIZE OKAY

And if I want John to pick up the chubby reader and carry her across the goddamn world, HE FUCKING WILL

When did fanfiction become about realism???

Y'all write about hybrid AUs, Omega stuff, Monster AUs (no hate, I love all the unique ideas!!) but we can't write about fat girls??

Yeah no. Not in this fucking house.

And the thing about breaking easily....

Girl, we literally have built-in airbags. Whether that's tig ol bitties, thunderthighs, the tummy of love or the ass of the century.

Like we are cushioned all the way through????

If you throw me and my (skinny) sister against a wall, who do you think is gonna come out with fewer injuries?

Yeah.

Again, NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

I know this is probably a troll, but I'm so sick of people like this. Anyway,

FAT GIRLS FOREVER 🩷✨️

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kozumesphone · 1 month ago

Text

✮⋆˙ 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

⤷ leo valdez x daughter of poseidon!reader

masterlist | event m.list

♡ fandom | the heroes of olympus

♡ includes | songfic (sort of), daughter of poseidon!reader, leo and reader both have glasses in this fic (YES i’m fulfilling my own delusions, leave me alone), ALL CHARACTERS INCLUDING READER ARE 17-18 pls don’t come at me for getting them married 🙏, leo x reader wedding, pre-established relationship, fluff, comfort, beautiful no nonsense kissing and happiness, tbh this is retribution for my previous emercy angst, HAPPINESS, third person pov for like five seconds, not proofread

♡ in which | leo and reader get married <3

♡ a/n | ok shiit. this was supposed to be a newlyweds prompt, but I wanted to write a wedding scene before that, so I completely missed the prompt that was requested ☹️ I still hope this fluff makes up for it a bit, and i'll try to work on a part 2 for a newlyweds drabble (tho I can't promise i'll actually end up writing it, sorry 💀)

♡ wc | 1.3k

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

“i’m way too nervous, my hands are shaking and what if I drop the ring? he’ll think i’m stupid! and he’ll leave me right there!”

“n/n? respectfully? shut up,” annabeth sighed.

“this is leo we’re talking about, man, and if there’s one thing I know for sure about him, other than the fact that he loves marshmallows, it’s that he’s whipped as fuck for you,” will’s voice rang out, walking into my cabin.

“trust!” piper’s voice came out of my closet, where she was looking for something decent for me to wear.

“okay… but, now I don’t have anything to wear. that’s another problem,” I whined.

“you could walk out there, and get married in your camp clothes, and it’d have the same effect on him either way,” piper rolled her eyes. “his mouth would like, hang open, and he’d make heart eyes at you—”

“shut up,” I grumbled. “what am I going to wear, pipes?”

“don’t you worry, darling, I got you,” she said, and winked at me, and handed me a denim-leather jacket.

✮⋆˙ leo’s pov

“what if I trip and fall in front of her? will she leave me—who am I kidding, of course she’ll leave me!—”

“she loves you, stop crying about it,” jason said, rolling his eyes.

nico walked in with a red tie and black leather jacket in tow, and told me it was one of the other kids who lent it to him (clearly not).

“oh. thanks,” I smiled.

“yeah, sure. uh, listen, valdez,” nico started. I narrowed my eyes at him. “if you ever hurt her, or make her cry, or anything, I will know. and I will come for your blood. and your organs, because the market is amazing for livers these days—”

“same here,” percy said. “if I see my little sister sad because of you? you’re done for, fire boy.”

they walked over to me, throwing their arms around my shoulder. “got it?”

“obviously,” I rolled my eyes. “and if she’s ever sad because of me, I think i’d kill myself.”

✮⋆˙ 3rd person pov

percy walked with his hand in y/n’s. she walked down the aisle in a black crop top below her unbuttoned white shirt, and a denim-leather jacket strung on top. in that moment, leo could only comprehend how much she looked like herself.

she was fidgeting nervously with her belt while walking towards him.

she looked up, shocked, to see him almost matching with her: white shirt, red tie, black leather jacket, and even the playboy grin.

I like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings…

uh huh, that’s right…

watching him smile at her melted away her anxiety.

he wouldn’t leave her, of course not. they were in this together, forever.

a lopsided grin creeped up her face, setting his heart on fire.

she would always love him, he realised. never would she even think of leaving him.

darling, you’re the one I want, and…

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

percy let go of my hand so I could walk further towards leo, leaving me a thumbs-up.

“hey handsome,” I whispered, stopping in front of leo.

“hey beautiful,” he whispered back, still smiling at me.

“even after so many years, you know how to get my brain to stop functioning, it’s unfair,” I groaned, as he chuckled. his hand slipped into mine, lacing our fingers together. his thumb stroked the back of my hand as we turned to chiron, who was officiating our wedding.

he asks all our friends—dressed in shades of either blue or orange—to take their seats. we watched the youngest demigods, who were less than ten years old, walk around the chairs, giving out flowers to everyone.

“dearly beloved,” chiron reads out of his pocket notebook. “we are gathered here today to witness my two little kids join together in holy matrimony.”

everyone laughed and then quieted down.

“you can do your speeches or vows,” he prompted.

I exhaled and started first. “mia cara, thank you. I can’t believe today’s, well, finally here. I remember the, um, first day we met. we were both caught planting something for a prank in coach hedge’s bag, and spent a day in detention together,” I laughed and went on. “well, that was pretty much the day I fell in love with you. i’m so happy I have a boyfriend—well, almost-husband—and a best friend, both in the same person. so, I guess what I want to say is… I love you, leo.”

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this…

uh huh, that’s right…

his eyes were glossing over, and a tear escaped down his cheek. I wiped it away, and smiled at him.

“oh my god, that was so sappy,” he rolled his eyes at me.

I hit him in his shoulder, and he laughed. “anyway, I think I never told you this, but I knew you before that day.”

I gasped a little bit and my eyes widened.

“it was the day you transferred to that wilderness school, probably around a month before we met. you were wearing the same jacket you’re wearing today, and your hair was in tiny braids, and oh my god, I remember thinking, ‘if I don’t talk to that girl soon, i’ll never forgive myself’ but I waited a whole month because I was too nervous.”

I laughed, “you were nervous for a month?”

“shut up bro,” he groaned. “you were just so beautiful and I thought you looked smart, which, I mean, you are. but then, I found out you were planning some prank for a bet, and I figured that was my chance.”

darling, you're the one I want…

“who knew that the first pranks we pulled would bring us to get married, huh?” I chuckled.

“I knew,” he said, “that was obviously why I did it. anyway, I wanna end this speech or whatever by saying what I thought of you the first day we met: I love you, y/n, and you’re stuck with me for life!”

“I better hope so, you’re not allowed to leave me ever, anyway,” I rolled my eyes.

chiron laughed at us, and called the ringbearers. “it’s time for you to exchange your rings.”

an eight-year old apollo camper and his twin brother walked up to us with matching boxes. each one gave a box to one of us.

we opened the boxes, got the rings out and held them.

leo pulled our interlocked hands up and let go, to slip his ring on my finger. I grinned at him, and placed mine on his finger as well. he smiled when he realised they were the first rings we had bought together after we snuck out of camp for the first time.

“with the power vested in me,” chiron started. “I now pronounce you man and wife. you may kiss the bri—”

before chiron could even finish, leo’s hands were on my waist, bringing me closer, our mouths colliding.

in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams…

oh, you’re the one I want…

our glasses hit each others’ twice, but neither of us cared. his hands were squeezing my waist, as if it were the end of the world if he let go. my hands wrapped around his neck, and I pulled him in closer than humanly possible.

his kisses were rarely soft and sweet, so today wasn’t a surprise.

tongues colliding, my hands in his hair, and grinning against each others’ lips.

“till death do them part!” a voice rang out from the crowd, everyone else laughing.

“even death won’t do us part, mi vida,” he pulled back, smiling and whispered.

#skye's cafe ~ ⋆.˚#⭑𓂃 skye’s riordanverse !#my man x me #riordanverse #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x fem!reader #leo x reader #leo valdez pjo #wedding fluff #leo valdez fic #leo fluff #fluff #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus

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