#and a different fic with too good of a title to share

[emeraldcreeper]

Who knew that taking the goddamn pain med and being on a medication that makes me jittery as fuck all of the time, but less sad that other meds caused, but isn’t preventing migraines still would cause me to be so productive in writing! I desperately want off the jittery med because it’s not working but since I’m not like thinking about death all the time in general terms I don’t want off it yet (I see the man who provides brain pain drugs later this month and I will say shot pleaseeeeee or other drug type pleeeaseeeeeee, because I think those will work at all!) and there’s been worse meds than playing with seratonin syndrome so like, if I keep monitoring it, I’ll be fine probably despite the way I feel like I had coffee at all hours!

[femininomen0n]

(not-so-) little sneak peek of my next karengraham fic because my monkey brain wants validation :)

[nostalgia-tblr]

.

[actiniumwrites]

knots

synopsis: lyney has been head over heels in love with you since the two of you were only ten years old. the only problem? you're friends with lynette and not him. so he spends the next 8-9 years pining over you with seemingly unrequited feelings

characters: lyney x gn!reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: angst to fluff, misunderstandings, happy ending, best friend's brother trope, an insane amount of obliviousness and pining, idiots to lovers pretty much, the ending is kinda rushed

disclaimer: i know character ages in genshin are a rather controversial topic of discourse within the community. i personally think of lyney and lynette to be around 18-19 years old and i do mention age in this fic as it follows a bit of a timeline. if this somehow bothers you, please just don't read or try to start an argument over it in my comments

notes: THIS IS SO CUTE IM SOBBING 🤧 i did throw in a lot of angst though i'm so sorry but i saw the opportunity and took it. the end is fluffy (and kind of rushed sorry) though‼️ the title is also inspired by lacy by olivia rodrigo as i think it's very fitting for this fic. thank you for the request! (this is my third time posting this cause the first time it didn't show up in the tags)

Lyney was jealous as a kid. It was hard not for him to be when him and Lynette were first introduced to you and you had barely even acknowledged him. He was only ten at the time, but he was so excited to make new friends outside of the House of the Hearth that he was stunned when you had only really talked to Lynette. You had only ever offered him a small wave and a smile to go along with it before running off with Lynette.

It wasn’t fair in his eyes. He was the one more interested in you anyway, not her. She had merely tagged along because he forced her too. Now here she was stealing his potential friends.

You’d clicked instantly with her. Both of you were more on the quiet and shy side, contrasting Lyney’s sunny and outgoing personality. You both liked the same foods, the same clothing, the same everything. Lyney wanted to share those with you too, but it was hard when his tastes differed from yours and you didn’t seem to pay much interest in him anyway.

And growing up, he’d always been around. You’d hang out with all of them, don’t get it twisted. It wasn’t like you’d ever told him he couldn’t spend time with you guys. In fact, you often spent a lot of time together. You were sweet. You loved helping them with their magic tricks, even though they normally failed since you were all thirteen by the time they really began taking it seriously. You’d pretend to be shocked when they guessed your card, despite knowing exactly how the trick worked. You’d be on standby when they performed more dangerous tricks. Hell, you were even an assistant for them nearly eighty-percent of the time.

Lyney was grateful for it all, but he still couldn’t shake the ever growing crush on you he’d developed three years ago when you first met. He wanted you to be closer with him more than his sister. It was selfish, he was well aware of that, but he was the one with a crush. Not Lynette.

Lyney was the one to pick you up and put a bandaid on your knees when you fell at the playground. Lyney was the one to always share his snacks with you, even when you usually said no. Lyney was the one to always sit next to you when you were feeling a little down and let his knee rest quietly against yours, hoping you wouldn’t pull yours away. Lyney was the one who was in love with you by the time you all turned 18.

When the fateful performance happened and they were revealed to be Fatui to the general public, he was sure you’d leave them for good. You had obviously known they were Fatui, but you didn’t know of the extent to which they acted, the crimes they had committed. In your eyes, they were only in training, because that was all they had told you. As close as you were to them, they could never let you know the full details. It was against the rules.

Lyney was so sure you’d up and leave that it was the second time he had ever truly felt anxiety in his life — his sister being taken was the first, but here you were making him feel that horrible pounding in his chest all over again. He was so sure that the ache in his chest would have to make room for more than just jealousy, but grief among heartbreak. That you’d look at them in fear and never speak to them ever again. That he’d never get to profess his love to you.

You proved him wrong, and rather unexpectedly so. You’d shown up to every second of their trial and helped the traveler out as best you could to exonerate them. You’d stuck by their side through it all and made sure they were alright. He was so surprised you almost made him cry.

When they were freed from it all and the crisis was solved, you’d only hugged Lynette and Freminet. That was the part that stung the most. But at this age, Lyney was too nervous around you. How could he not be? You were so pretty and sweet and kind that he didn’t know what to do, especially when he was confused as to where he stood with you. You were all of those things and more with everyone. Everyone but him.

So he pulls away.

He doesn’t want to. God, he’s so in love with you he doesn’t want to ever spend a second away from you, but you never reciprocate any of it. So perhaps, he decides one day, it’d be best to just move on and focus on other things. Lynette could have you to herself and he’d find someone else, no matter how much he wanted you the most.

And you hate it, because well, you’re confused. Which sounds unfair, and in some ways it is, but Lyney was a special light in your life that you couldn’t get too close to. Not because you didn’t want to. No. Of course not. He didn’t realize that you were too scared to. You were so different that you shied away from him, despite feeling all the same toward him. He was like the sun and if you got too close to him, you were scared he’d burn you.

Lynette pushed you toward him regularly. You never seemed to escape her late night gossip sessions where she told you all about how her brother was practically drooling over how good you looked or how sweet you were. You found it endearing while she found it disgusting. Despite it all, though, you had confided in her about your crush on him as well, but how terrified you were to try to actually approach him. She almost slapped you right then and there.

Lynette thinks you’re both stupid. And she’s right. Because now you’re both stuck in a huge misunderstanding. Lyney thinks you hate him and you think he hates you. Could anyone really blame her for being so annoyed?

“You need to talk to him,” she finally breaks one day, about to pass out in her chair from her social energy running out just from hearing about the entire situation nonstop for the past week. You stare at her mortified as she gives you an unimpressed stare.

You nearly choke on the drink you were sipping on just a moment ago, catching a few passerby’s attention as you do, “Why do I have to be the one to say something?! He’s the one that started avoiding me!”

“Are you dense?”

“No?”

She stares at you for a long minute and sighs.

“You’re both idiots. He likes you. You like him. You were too shy to say anything and now he’s decided to move on,” she explains, unimpressed. Did you really not see it after all these years?

“Move on? What?” you place your hands on the table in front of you, panic swimming in your eyes. It all hits you so fast you feel your heart practically about to burst out of your chest.

“I have to go, sorry!” you jump out of your chair, yelling a string of apologies from behind you as you run from the cafe.

It takes you an hour to find him after your conversation with Lynette ends abruptly. Freminet was nice enough to let you know Lyney had gone down to the outskirts of the main city to work on some magic tools by the beach. It was just an excuse to get away. All three of you knew it, but Lyney wasn’t the type to say how he truly feels in fear of being a bad leader.

You wished he had said something sooner. Though perhaps you should’ve been the one to take notice long ago that his advances were more than just friendly.

You suddenly feel regret build up in your stomach at the way you treated him all these years. You were so afraid of your feelings you sabotaged yourself in the process and unknowingly hurt him too.

You find him sitting in the sand, legs crossed as he quietly fiddles with a few parts for some magic props.

“Mind if I sit?” you practically whisper from beside him. Lyney doesn’t even look at you. It’s cold and and unlike him and must be exactly how you looked all these years. He nods anyway.

You watch the waves crash in front of you. Over and over again as they grow closer with the deepening hours of the night. The stars reflect gently upon each and every one of them yet you can’t get yourself to focus on them.

You fidget with a small flower in your hands. It was tucked away gently in your pocket, the petals sticking out to prevent it from getting crushed. It’s a vibrant pink and even with its petals closed for the night, it still looks beautiful in your hand. It reminds you of all the times Lyney had dropped the very same ones at your doorstep or somehow tucked away on a piece of your clothing without you noticing. You hadn’t bothered to look into the meaning back then. You never knew rainbow roses were a declaration of love.

Lyney still sits quietly next to you, now messing with the hat he had taken off when you arrived. His lavender eyes avoid yours, but you don’t hesitate to drop the flower gently into his hands.

“I never knew the meaning of these,” you turn to him and say softly. Your eyes match your voice and he knows you’re telling the truth, even if he doesn’t want to believe it. When he doesn’t move to touch it, nor get rid of it, you speak again, “It’s uh…it’s for you. I picked it on the way here. I thought you’d maybe like it.”

He finally picks it up and turns toward you, a mixture of emotions pooling in his eyes. You see the anger, the fear, the pain, and the love all at once. You wish you had seen it all sooner.

“Why are you giving this to me?” Lyney asks quietly. It comes off a little colder than he’d like, you see it in the way he winces after. You only stare at him with a sad, but hopeful look in your eyes. You couldn’t take back the past, but perhaps you could change the future.

Quietly, you take it from him and tuck it above his ear. He’d done the same to you one time, only it was part of a show and you thought it was just for the act. Oh how oblivious you were back then. “You know what it means to give someone one of these. Lyney, I…I never meant to push you away all these years. I was just scared because I liked you, and Lynette was easier to get closer to than face my feelings for you. Even if we were just ten years old. It was immature and for that, I’m sorry.”

It’s quiet for a moment before his face brightens a bit, “Do you really mean it? You’ve really liked me all these years? Or are you just saying all this to make me feel better?”

You nod, confirming your words and he breaks out into laughter. A sound you’ve dearly missed. Sadness doesn’t suit Lyney.

“Can I…?” He says scooting closer to you, eyes glancing in between yours before falling to your lips. You nod, a small laugh escaping you as you lean in to meet him half way.

Lyney’s lips are soft against yours as he kisses you eagerly. You reciprocate the feeling, matching his pace until you both pull apart out of breath. You laugh nervously standing up and extending a hand, “Wanna go home?”

Lyney jumps up, his hand in yours and nods. He interlaces his fingers with yours tightly, not letting you go after all these missed out years.

When you return to the House of the Hearth, Lyney turns and places one last kiss to your lips. It’s short and sweet and lets you know that he’ll definitely be seeing you tomorrow. You turn and walk away after, wishing him a goodnight as you do. But before you can walk away completely and turns and shouts, “7 PM tomorrow at the Hotel Debourd! I’ll pick you up!”

Lynette appears behind him suddenly, rolling her eyes and waving to you before shutting the door on her twin, “You’re hopeless, brother.”

[angelicsoka]

BEAUTIFUL THINGS, l. hughes

pairings | luke hughes x fem!actress!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x reader, platonic!jack hughes x reader

summary | in which luke and his girlfriend announce to the world the secret they’ve been keeping

warnings | not proofread. no use of “y/n”, use of the name “winona” change if need be :). lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | i’ve had no motivation to write as of late but this won the vote so i figured i’d post it! the quinn fic should be up in the next few weeks (hopefully). i feel like this sucks ass but i wanted to post it. ive never posted a social media fic on here so this was very different for me

liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes, and 3,223,034 others

yourusername i want you, i need you, oh god, don't take these beautiful things that i've got <3

1.9.23

welcome to the world, miss winona ellen hughes 🌷

tagged lhughes_06

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user1 oh. my. god

user77 i think i might explode

_quinnhughes my favorite niece!!

yourusername your only niece... _quinnhughes

_quinnhughes 🤫🤫 yourusername

jackhughes WINNIE!!!

jackhughes proud to hold the title of favorite uncle 😎

_quinnhughes i beg to differ

jackhughes kys

lhughes_06 i hate both of you

yourusername hey! be nice! plus i’m pretty sure nicohischier holds the title currently.

nicohischier suck on that jackhughes _quinnhughes

_quinnhughes he’s not even a blood relative?!

jackhughes i can’t anymore

nicohischier she’s so cute! you need to bring her around more :)

yourusername definitely! she loves you and the team

elblue6 my sweet granddaughter ❤️ can’t wait to see her again!

yourusername we can’t wait to see you both either <33 soon i promise!

liked by yourusername, edwards.73, and 2,559,162 others

lhughes_06 my daughter winnie, sending the internet into absolute chaos even as a baby :)

tagged yourusername

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user2 a sad day for luke girlies all around the world 😔

user1 bro if you actually cared you would be happy for him! it’s not a “sad day” whatsoever!!

edwards.73 bro her caption is so cute and then there’s yours.

lhughes_06 hey! it’s true!

yourusername it’s a good thing i love him 😔

yourusername i love you lu <3

lhughes_06 i love you mamas, and our beautiful lil winnie

edwards.73 congrats to both of you!

yourusername thank you eddy !!

jackhughes bro she’s too little to be sharing feet pics

comment deleted by lhughes_06

jackhughes i liked yourusername’s caption better

lhughes_06 i’ll revoke your godfather rights

yourusername don’t listen to him he’s all bark no bite

_quinnhughes bring her to vancouver please i have a gift for her.

lhughes_06 only hughes 43 jersey she will be wearing is a devils

yourusername luke quit being a baby! she can have both!

lhughes_06 -_-

rutgermcgroarty winnie has broke the internet i think

lhughes_06 that's my daughter!

rutgermcgroarty we expect no less from the daughter of a hughes brother

user100 my heart just shattered into a million pieces :(

user6 girl be so fr you never had a chance.

[pedgito]

MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Three: Forbidden Fruit

Chapter Summary: Mr. Miller receives your assignment in it's full detailed exposé and despite his reaction, doesn't seem as pleased as you anticipated. It leads to a tense interaction that lands you in his office with more questions and confusion. [4k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: fem!reader, professor!joel miller (his teacher persona is v different from outside of the classroom, so if he seems slightly ooc....close your eyes), dom!joel, sub!reader, reader is a little obsessed with joel (and delusional), background tess x joel, inappropriate relationships/actions, masturbation (m), confrontations, joel manhandling reader (kinda roughly), panty ripping, one (1) forbidden kiss

— AO3 | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec

Joel takes the plunge into the assignments the following night—it was a small class so he knew it wouldn’t take a large chunk of time, a couple hours at the end of his day and he’d have it out of the way and grades posted before the following morning. It was always easier to do things this way, hidden away in his office to force his focus and block out the rest of what was going on. 

He flies through the assignments with a detailed precision, giving proper and full notes on things he thinks the students could work on or tweak, give some personal thoughts on creativity, and allow some encouragement where it was needed.

But, your name sits in the bottom of his inbox, bold lettered and unread—he saved it for last.

He could lie and say he didn’t do it on purpose, but he’s come to thoroughly enjoy your writing, so he pushes it off until it’s the final thing he has to grade that night. He knows Tess should be arriving home soon, so despite his want to give you his full, undivided attention—he intends to give it a quick skim.

Joel knows there’s no real notes he can give you. You always had a clear idea on your work, so meticulously planned out that it reminded him of himself in a way.

He takes a sip of the quickly dissipating bourbon in the cup sitting on his desk, ice clinking against the glass as he clicks on your essay and watches it expand onto the screen.

He likes to jot down his thoughts on paper as he goes, making it easier to format and type as he replies—he grips the pencil tight, reading the title of your essay.

                      ill-suited innocence 

In a crowd she finds herself searching, looking for him. Days and days of tense glances and inappropriate thoughts—he must share them too? While she can’t be bothered by the fantasy of mythical creatures and things that only made sense in fiction, she did believe in the fantasy of wanting what she couldn’t have. Him.

Much older, wiser—grim around the eyes and a deep sorrow that burrowed its way into his chest and made home. He couldn’t fix himself, but she could. At least, she thinks she could.

Joel straightened his back, leaning into the screen to assure himself he wasn’t misreading. It was…an interesting take on the assignment he gave you, but he’ll bite. He’s used to your stuff being a little more unorthodox. 

Something along the lines of forbidden fantasy? A tale of love? It wasn’t his particular choice of fiction but he wasn’t opposed to it. He squints, reading more.

He drops the pencil for a moment

Their lives mundane and unassuming, they traverse through life with little enjoyment. Two sides of the same coin and he was too oblivious to realize. He offered smiles and kind words, guidance that seemed from a good place but only allowed her to feel more misdirection. He was an enigma, difficult to decipher and she craved him.

And though he tries to fight whatever attraction he may feel, she can see it in his tense gaze. The lingering touches he leaves on her body. Secret meetings, talks that allowed themselves to be more deep than should be allowed. He was allowing her in little by little but she needed more.

She just had to ask, so she did.

Joel feels a tightening deep in his gut that wasn’t there before, reading between the lines of text and allowing faint glimpses of memories with you to match themselves with the words—his brow furrowing under the guise of…anger? No, frustration. He shouldn’t be equating his perfectly…appropriate relationship with you to this. In fact, it shouldn’t cross his mind. But, it does.

All of this from a dream? He could lie and say he wasn't intrigued, but that wasn't the case.

Joel doesn’t expect the full 180 turn as he glances down at the chunk of text that follows.

“You’re my student,” He whispers to her, “I can’t allow this.”

She bites at her lip, noticing the subtle click of his heels as they hit the floor, back them against his desk as she takes a seat, plastic cup full of pencils falling to the floor but neither of their eyes leaving each other.

“You can,” She encourages, “I’m hardly a student anymore. I’m a friend. We’re friends, right?”

And given his ability to let her in so easily, he also considered her a friend. Naively. He’s gotten himself into this position and he can’t find a reason to not give her what she wants—what he wants.

He captures her lips in a searing kiss, much less polite than a friend would, her fingers quickly undoing his belt—

Joel feels his cock hardening under the confines of his slacks, clearing his throat slightly. He should stop reading—he knows he should. The glaringly obvious lines being crossed are blurred for a moment. He shouldn’t have led you on like this, allowed you to cook up some depraved illusion of what you thought things could be.

Because they couldn’t. That wasn’t what this was. Joel had told himself over and over—he was helping. He didn’t think you’d take advantage of the scenario like this. Still, he finds himself loosening the buckle of his belt as well, unzipping his pants enough that he can stuff his hand into the tight space between his bare cock and briefs, palming himself impatiently.

And he skims—words sticking and fading in his mind. It starts of with a slow, sensual make out and a messily described handjob that has his cocking throbbing with every tight stroke he pulls at his shaft, eventually tired of fighting the tight space he’s allowed with his slacks making it impossible to move, he leans back and pulls his cock out far enough that he has free, unrestrained range. The bourbon glass leaves a sweat ring on the oak of his desk but Joel can’t be bothered, he scrolls down further, taking in the last few scenes that allowed him a full idea of just what exactly you thought was going on between the both of you. Or, what you wanted to happen.

He allows himself a moment to slip out of his headspace and imagine, selfishly.

Bent over the desk, items scattered to the floor he pulled at her skirt, something she wore necessarily—easy access, she whispered against his lips before he bent her fully over the desk, chest pressed against the solid wood.

Joel imagines it vividly, his breath quickening as he tugs at his cock in rough, fast strokes and pictures it—you, bent over his desk and your ass presented to him like a prize and how good it would feel to squeeze the flesh between his hands. He knows your sounds would be sweet, divine, and it drives him wild. 

He’s thought about you before like this, hand wrapped around his cock, but never in full detail as you’d written out.

And then he slips his cock inside of her, a small gasp of, “Just like that, professor.” falling from her lips and it only spurs Joel deeper into his despair, tugging himself until he feels his orgasm creeping up on him, a churning in his gut that feels too good to quit and he reads out the last few lines, as he comes deep inside of, recklessly and without much decision making.

He thought you were smarter than this. Expected more out of you.

There’s a creak of a floorboard down the hall that sends his world crashing down on him, dampening his orgasm almost immediately as he scrambles to shove himself back inside of his slacks, buttoning and buckling his belt hastily as he clicks out of his browsers and feigns exhaustion, Tess’s fingers curling around the doorknob as she peeks her head in, watching as Joel’s fingers circled the glass of liquor.

God, he hates her.

Not you. Tess.

He figured his reasoning was valid, but truthfully—he just couldn’t stand her any longer. He's been battling the decision to go through with his divorce, but this seemed like as big a sign as ever. It's the unbridled rage he was tired of harboring around her, trying to act like things were fine.

Nothing was fine and his life was imploding.

He was lusting after a student and worse, he know you were after him—actively, clear in the boldness you showed through your assignment. 

He thinks back briefly on the video call that he shouldn’t have allowed, your question that seemed…vague but unassuming. Had you planned this the entire time?

Was he just that stupid to not see it?

“Coming to bed tonight?” Tess asks hesitantly.

Joel offers a clear and concise, “No.”

He wasn’t sure if he could even sleep, contemplating over how to handle this…situation.

He couldn’t allow it to stray further.

It would damage his career and ruin his life.

But truthfully, he felt like he’d already reached that point, so what did he have to lose?

-

You wake up on Monday with a deep pit in your chest, knowing that grades were posted that morning. You knew it was a risk, being so open with him—but he couldn’t fail you. You followed the parameters of the assignment and made sure to clear the few questions you had with him.

Part of you is expecting another email from his private account, wondering his thoughts beyond what he would address appropriately. But, the moment your eyes drag along the screen, still blurry from sleep, you feel your heart stop.

0/100. A complete failure.

No comment besides—Rewrite and resend immediately. No extension. Due by the end of the day.

Your jaw clenches in frustration.

Oh, you were not being ignored that easily.

You storm into his room later that day during your free hour for lunch, knowing he’d be saddled up at his desk eating his own lunch. 

You couldn’t even think about eating, full of anger and annoyance that kept you full and ready to strike. He can hear your footsteps before you approach and is wiping at his mouth with a napkin when you stop at his desk.

He holds a hand up, face steely and emotionless.

For a moment, you think he might break. Crack a smile and say it was an excuse to get you here.

Instead, he has your essay printed out and ready to shove at you, your fingers curling around the stack and crinkling the edges. 

“You can’t fail me,” You start tensely, “I did your stupid assignment and I followed the steps you asked for.”

“I expect a new one by the end of the day. Appropriate to the topic. End of discussion.”

You scoff, not daring to look at the glaring zero he drew out on the paper just to prove a point. It lands in the trash as you throw it down, “No.”

Joel’s chair squeaks as he rises and it startles you slightly, and suddenly he’s invading your space, the muscles in his neck tightening as he pointed an accusatory finger at the trashed papers.

“In what situation did you think any of that was appropriate to write and send to your professor?” Joel asks, noting the way you blink quickly, backing away slightly.

He almost…feels bad? No. He quickly wipes the thought away as more anger crosses your face, eyes dilating in rage.

You lean in slightly, thankful that the halls were quiet around this time of day and that you had closed the door behind you. 

“You started this,” You argue, “You crossed that line when you messaged me on a private email. Telling me that you liked the time we spent together. I’m your student—maybe you should’ve taken that into account first.”

His fist clenched at his side, almost to restrain himself, knowing he’d rather shove that finger into your chest and blame you. But, you were both to blame. And he even more so. Still, he doubles down.

“Rewrite it or I’ll fail you for the entire semester.”

Your mouth gapes open, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“That’s…completely unfair.” You settle, voice softer as you drop the act. “I just—”

“Rewrite it.” Joel responds firmly.

“Mr. Miller—” You begin, trying to find a feasible way to get him to listen.

“Or I fail you.” He says with finality. “You’re lucky I don’t take this to the board.”

Which, he never would. He’s just as much at fault. But, he’s taking his frustration out on you. An easy target, slim pickings. 

You weren’t playing into that though, not now.

“You won’t,” You challenge him, “because if you do—I can assure you, you won’t appreciate the results.”

It was a threat. Cold and plain.

“Rewrite it,” He reiterates again, his voice softer now. “I have to submit these assignments at the end of the semester and if—that cannot be in there. I need a real essay. Real. Not some fucking delusion.”

It’s the first time he’s talked so…out of term. It feels like him, the real Mr. Miller.

Fine—you’ll write the goddamn essay as he intended. You roll your eyes and Joel relaxes slightly, seeing your defeat as you settle your shoulders back.

“I want it on my desk by the end of day.”

Sure, you could manage that.

If anything, it gave you more of an excuse to drag out his torture a little longer.

-

You spend the entirety of his class working out a new essay, bullshitting your way through an hour of class and typing up something feasible enough to get you a decent grade, knowing that his views of you were already tainted. But, that didn’t matter. 

You had plans.

When evening rolls around and classes are finally done for the day, you make the long trek across campus to his class, finding it empty but spotting the light in his private office is still on, a low and muted orange that shined through the window. You approach slowly and knock on the door, hearing his muffled greeting on the other side.

You peek inside, noting his position as he rests with his fist pressed against the side of his face, seemingly nursing a headache as he rubs the fingers of his free hand over his forehead and sighs, closing his laptop as you hold out the small stack of papers for him to grab. He does, skimming through it briefly. You toss your bag off your shoulder and rest it in a nearby chair, standing quietly.

“Something bothering you?” You ask politely, hands crossed over your front as fiddled idly with your fingers, “Mr. Miller?”

He looks up tensely, eyes darkened and foreboding.

“What did you mean earlier?” He asks suddenly, reading your essay with a careful eye. Scribbling something down before he pushes it away, fingers clasped together under his chin as he gives you his full attention. “That I wouldn’t…appreciate the results?”

“Oh, that was—”

A threat. He knows it. You know it.

And he voices it.

“It was a threat, wasn’t it?” He asks coarsely, his voice sounding rough. 

He seemed worse for wear, with good reason.

The dignified squeak of his chair is like deja-vu but you don’t back away this time, turning to him as he rounds his desk—his tie is gone, starch pressed shirt unbuttoned to a dangerous degree and his belt is missing, your eyes tracking it in a nearby corner where it’s slung over an empty chair. 

He allowed you in here, the small glimpse of his relaxed state. He wasn’t shutting you out necessarily, which was good. But, you still felt unwanted. It was almost like he was dangling a myriad of fruit in front of you, ripe for the taking, but riddled with poison. Forbidden.

“No—”

He grabs your wrist suddenly, tight and gasp-inducing as he pulls it up until it’s level between you both, right at chest level and you’re waiting for him to let go, but he doesn’t.

“Tell. The. Truth.” He says pointedly, a small jerk of your arm with every syllable as he pulls you undoubtedly closer, “I want to hear it.”

Instead of admitting that you did openly threaten him, you switch gears.

“What? That I want you to fuck me?” You ask innocently, pulling your wrist away harshly. “Joel, come on—don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

His name is like a gut-punch, a reminder that he gave you that information under the idea that you would keep it safe, but now you were using it against him.

“Don’t—” He warns and your hands press into his crisp button-up, scrunching the fabric in an effort to wrinkle it, feeling the solid press of muscle under your hands that makes your mouth water, eyes widening slightly at the touch and for a split second, he allows it.

He had to escape the situation before he acted on something he would regret.

“Get out.” Joel responds through gritted teeth, shoving your hands away harshly and in turn, forcing you back a few steps with the urgency of it. “Now.”

Still, you step closer, chest against chest as you can feel the distinct bulge in his slacks against your front, tongue clicking in your mouth as you cocked your head to the side mockingly, a finger tracing along the buttons of his shirt until you can curl the tip of it around the hem of his pants.

“You can do it, you know,” You offer, “You could fuck me right now and I wouldn’t tell a soul, not even your wife—or…ex-wife? I’m not sure since you never wear your ring.”

Fuck this and her smart ass mouth, Joel thinks.

Joel’s nostrils flare and he snaps, backing you into the wall by his hand pressed against your chest, the bookshelf beside you shaking with the force. His hands creep up your neck, pressing rigid against the skin and he keeps you there, trapped.

“I can feel it,” You tease through strained vocal cords, his finger squeezing against your neck–not quite cutting off air flow, but the pressure is there and you feel it. It makes your head swim, squirming against his hold as he shifts closer, body pressed against your own firmly, “is that why you asked me to turn the paper in by the end of the day? You wanted me here, didn’t you? I guess my essay did strike a nerve after all.”

The laugh that follows is sickening, a grin appearing under his sneer. His fingers move up a few inches to grip your face. Hard. Squeezing until he feels the solid press of your cheekbones under his thumb and he speaks, so quietly into the space you can barely hear him, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Your eyes drift to his, his head tilting up slightly away from your ear that he had whispered into and there’s glint in your eye. It’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to burrow yourself under his skin so he couldn't get rid of you.

He feels your fingers continue to trace along the seam of his shirt, tracing over the bumps of the material until you meet his slacks, pressing your palm flat over his cock, hardened under the material and straining–and he can’t help the way his breath intakes sharply, the full body restraint it takes to not rut into your hand. He knows he has the upper hand here, but with the small amount of effort it takes to break his revere for himself, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up.

“I would,” You nod slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he tightens his grip with your admittance and in turn, you squeeze him just a little harder. He hisses and leans in, letting go of your face to return to your neck–he isn’t squeezing this time, but his hand is a solid presence. You move, he moves. And if he doesn’t like how you move, you would end up exactly where he wants you to, “Come on, Joel. You read all about it. I can do so much more than whatever your wife is doing—isn’t that why you reached out to me?”

“Don’t—stop saying my name.” He warns, trying to keep what little line of professionalism he had between you there, unblurred. “I reached out to help. As your mentor.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s a few things you could teach me.” You say sweetly, the deft sound of his zipper being undone by your hand, popping the button on his pants, “Joel, please.”

He stops your hand in it’s decent, fingers tracing along the hem of his underwear before he’s gripping your arm and turning you with little resistance on your end, front pressed harshly against the stucco wall, a sharp gasp emitting from your throat as he crowds you in again, whispering harshly into your ear, “Mr. Miller. Not Joel. You don’t get that privilege. And stop talking about my fucking wife.”

You moan brokenly at the feeling of his cock pressed against your ass, skirt riding up your thighs and you were sure—positive that Joel could see the fabric of your underwear clinging to your hips from how high up and mused your skirt was now, but he can’t take his eyes of your face, anger emitting from his own and suffocating you like a blanket.

You were pressing his buttons just right and he hated it.

“So, no marital troubles then?” You pester him and he shuts you up immediately, palm covering your mouth tightly as his free hand grips at the hem of your underwear at your hip and tugs—yep, he saw them. Some soft color, all lacy, meant to be attention-grabbing. And if Joel couldn’t have you the way he truly desires, he’d make you wish you could have it even worse than he wanted it. “You—huh, you can’t even wear your wedding ring, Mr. Miller—don’t lie to me.”

He pulls at the material of your panties until they’re riding up your ass slightly, pulled tighter against your cunt and the drag of the material against your clit is almost unexpected. He’s pointedly avoiding touching you so intimately, teetering on the edge of not enough and too much.

“You thought it would be that easy?” Joel asks testingly, jerking your head slightly when you don’t answer. You figured it was redundant but clearly not. You mumble against his hand, overwhelmed by his touch that all you can do is nod, forehead pressed against the wall as he breathes down your neck. “You’re mistaken.”

There’s a distinct rip of fabric as he removes his hand from your mouth quickly using his hands to grip your panties in tight fists, tearing it apart as it falls from your body and you think he might just do it—shove his slacks just far enough down his thighs and slip inside of you, bring an end to all of your suffering.

And his own.

Instead his fingers tighten around your forearm, spinning you in his hold and shoving the ripped fabric into your hand, leaving you bare under your skirt and exposed and Joel doesn’t mistake the wetness on the material. His fingers linger over your palm and you scoff, adjusting your skirt and slightly skewed shirt.

“Keep them,” You challenge, shoving the material into his chest before he allows them to drop to the floor, eyes trailing your departing figure as you reach for your discarded bag, “a gift for your wife—you know, the one who you avoided to spend time with me. Right?”

You want the words to linger and sting, bag slung lazily around your shoulder as you depart for the door, ignoring the quickly approaching footsteps. Joel, unbeknownst to you, had already pocketed your panties, torn to shreds in the pocket of his slacks. But, the words cut deep and he can’t leave things like this and allow you the final word.

Joel yanks the strap of your bag and backs you against the office door, the wood rattling against your conjoined weight as his lips press against yours in haste, messy and uncoordinated but your brain quickly assess what’s happening and joins, your lips parting to allow his eager tongue into your mouth. His kiss is biting and furious, mean and full of nothing but tense emotion. It’s months of suffocated lust pouring into you, out of him, and you swallow it down eagerly. His hand holds your chin forcefully, sloppy exchanges of spit and forceful bites, a battle for dominance that Joel quickly won out on.

And you think that maybe that comment was the final straw, that he might just give you what you want, but your delicate moan that slips into his mouth as chase him, his head pulling back slightly at the noise—it had him falling back to reality, right on his ass.

There wasn’t any line left to cross anymore. He’d obliterated it.

“Don’t threaten me again,” He warns, “ever.”

There’s one solid shove against the door as your head hits the surface gently, his touch quickly dissipating and his disheveled appearance a tell-tale sign in your mind. He was fighting his own battle and losing terribly.

“Of course,” You agree sardonically, “Mr. Miller.”

The silent click of the door is deafening and Joel retreats to his desk, punching a fist into the solid wood, the papers of your assignment flying to the floor. He can't be bothered to pick them up or even allow them the proper glance they deserve.

Because you—in his mind, don't deserve it.

And he's not going to give you that satisfaction.

It's unprofessional, but he'll allow it this once. It only takes a few quick clicks and he's adjusting the assignment out for your new one.

Poof. Gone. Like it never existed.

But, the grade is unchanging and he knows that will make things tremendously worse, but he can't be bothered to care anymore.

You'd be back and that's exactly what he wants.

[fleurriee]

— change in plans ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; you and neteyam had been mates for a short while now. when you start to feel ill, suspicion starts to cleave your mind, and you can’t help but worry about your mates reaction.

word count ; 2.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; mentions of being sick, worrying thoughts of not being a good enough mate, use of y/n

author’s note ; starting a dad!neteyam series bc this man is all i want in life and he’d be the perfect dad if he was only given the chance :(( screw u, james. lol this was originally going to be a drabble series but when i checked the wc for this & saw over 2k, i just thought fuck it. so, this series is gonna have a different wc every time 🤙🏻

next part

dad!neteyam series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!

Groggily opening your eyes, attempting to blink away the sleep that was still lingering there, you take a deep breath in, grumbling noiselessly to yourself. Fresh air and morning sunlight filtered in through the gaps until they surrounded your sleepy figure. You feel around on the bed next to you for the familiar presence that has been a comfort to you for around several months now. When your hands only come in contact with the bed mat beneath you, you turn your head in the same direction, heart sinking at the emptiness of the space.

You knew Neteyam was important to your clan — he was next in line for Olo’eykyan, after all — but sometimes you wished he wasn’t. Without the title weighing down heavily on his shoulders, you’d be able to spend a lot more time together, planning out your days and getting ready for your future. Instead, you awoke more often than not alone, your homely tent slowly start to turn isolated and desolate.

Of course, you’d never tell your mate of your thoughts — Neteyam was already guilt-ridden enough whenever he eventually made his way back into your arms after such a long and strenuous day, apologising profusely for not having spent enough time with you. In those times, you do nothing but comfort him, reassure him that you’re okay and that you understand.

But, that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.

Stretching out your limbs to get some life back into them, you slowly start to climb up off the mat, looking around your hut for some breakfast. Your tent that you shared with your loving mate was a place you treasured deeply, one you considered to be your very own safe-haven. Not too long after your official mating with Neteyam, he had secretly been sneaking off whenever he had the spare time — which, admittedly, wasn't that often — to built a home for the two of you. Initially, you hadn't really thought of his disappearances that much, but when he started sending you sneaky glances out the corner of his eye, subtle smiles directed only at you, you began to get your suspicions.

He had taken you away from his family, covering your eyes and carefully walking you in a random direction, before revealing the surprise. Your heart had melted into a pool of warmth, surrounding you completely and utterly. You were a blubbering mess — whilst this was something you knew would be happening soon for the two of you, you were never expecting it to feel such a way for you.

It felt official.

Now, your home was filled to the brim with memories and personal memorabilia. Beads and feathers you had collected all your life that represented a different moment in your relationship; personalised weapons and clothes that you had made for one another during your courting ceremony, and one corner that smelt entirely of the two of you from where you sleep, where you come together as one soul each night and show one another how much your love means.

In another corner of the tent lies two baskets — one filled with fruit, and the other filled with meat. When you’d first mated with Neteyam, he had insisted on collecting all the foods the two of you would need for your home. You had found the offer loving, your heart fluttering in your chest as his desire to provide for you, but declined. You were to be mates, which meant you wanted to provide for him, too. So, after several long discussions, you’d compromised that Neteyam would hunt the meat, and you would forage the fruit.

It was a routine that worked quite well, taking note of the good amount of the ratio as you looked down in the baskets. Giving yourself a moment to contemplate what you wished to eat on that particular morning, moments away from reaching down and grabbing to your heart’s desire, a funny feeling started to tingle in your stomach.

Taking in another deep breath, you told yourself that it was nothing, that it would disappear, but it only seemed to grow worse. With one hand on your stomach, the other covering your mouth, you rushed over to the entrance of your tent, opening the flap and spewing up last night’s meal into the empty bucket outside.

You took a moment to breath afterwards, catching your breath and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You looked around at the clan surrounding you, wondering if anyone had taken notice of you — as far as you were aware, no one had. So, walking back inside your tent, you went over to the fresh water yourself and Neteyam kept stocked and washed your hands.

Looking back over at the basket of fruits and meats, you decided you’d skip that morning’s breakfast.

“And then what happened?”

You were out in the lush forests of Pandora, taking a walk with Kiri as she used even her spare to time to prepare for her healing work with her grandmother. The two of you walked side by side, the day’s sun basking down its warmth on your retreating figures.

When you’d originally met up with Kiri earlier that morning, you had expected her to be her usual self — bright and excited to explore more of what Ewya offered her children. Instead, you had been met with a much angrier version of your sister-in-law.

Before you’d even started walking together, she was reciting her own morning back to you. Apparently, Lo’ak had believed it to be funny to scare Kiri whilst her back was turned away from him, causing the paste she was making to jump out of her hands and become ruined.

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle out her crazy morning antics.

“And, then,” Kiri started, grumbling at her situation as she bent down to pluck a small part of a plant away, placing it delicately into her pouch, “father grounded me.”

You turn your head towards her, furrowed eyes on display, showing off your confusion. “What? Why?”

As Kiri stood back up, her anger dissipated and a smirk played on her lips. “Because I punched him in the face.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that completely tumbled from your mouth, loud and clear as any other creature within the forests. Grabbing at your stomach in an attempt to cease the laughing, your sister beside you only making your enthusiasm worse by joining in and exclaiming that he had it coming!, you felt elated, until your happiness turned into queasiness.

There was a split second where you knew what was going to happen before it actually did, but you weren’t given enough time to react. Your only option was to bend low, throwing up once again, although this time you had no idea where the contents had come from, considering you hadn’t eaten since last night and had already thrown up earlier that morning.

Coughing and clutching at your stomach, you felt Kiri’s gentle hand against your back, smoothly rubbing your skin to calm you down. Once you felt that was everything, you stood back up straighter, head groggy and eyes glazed over — you had never felt more worse in your life.

“Oh, y/n, you look terrible!” she chastised you, her eyes moving fervently over your figure, shaking her head in disbelief that you had gone from one emotion to another so drastically. “Is this the first time it’s happened?”

Breathing deeply, you shake your head. “No,” you swallow, pulling a disgusted face at the taste lingering in your mouth, before running a hand over your face from the exhaustion of it all. “It happened this morning, too.”

“And, you haven’t been to see grandmother?” Kiri’s voice was slowly beginning to raise, her obvious annoyance at your stubbornness beginning to effect her clearly. “Come, I will take you to her now.”

Immediately, you tried to refuse. “No, Kiri, I’m fine—“

But, your sister was relentless, adamant. “I’m not taking no for an answer, not when you could be ill.”

As she starts to pull you arm back in the direction of home, you look back over your shoulder at where you had reluctantly left the mark of your presence. “But, what about—“

“I will clean it up later. Come.”

From the moment you had arrived in the Tsahik’s tent, skin becoming clammy, sweat beading along your forehead and dry heaving into your hand, you were sure she knew what was wrong with you.

The woman who was like your own grandmother had gestured you closer to her awaiting figure, moving forwards and leaving Kiri hovering worriedly by the entrance to the tent. Mo’at gently grabbed your chin, looking so intently at you, all you wanted was to cower away, but you stood your ground, knowing the woman would only get annoyed.

When she was satisfied with what she saw, she gently grasped at your arms, guiding you down onto the floor in front of her. You started to feel just slightly better when you were no longer standing, swaying and feeling like you were going to fall any second. Mo’at moved back over to her shelves that held an assortment of healing herbs and ailments for those in need, coming back to you. She moved behind you, prodded at your back gently and pressing her ears against your spine, before moving back around and doing the same to your stomach.

You looked over at Kiri worriedly, hoping to find some sort of semblance hidden within her gaze, but her expression only mirrored your own. She, too, had no idea what was wrong with you — she was only training to be like her grandmother, and she clearly hadn’t gotten to this part of her lessons just yet.

“You are pregnant, my child.”

Your head snapped in her direction, not fast enough, those particular words reverberating within your mind, bouncing from one corner of the walls to another until you were sure you hadn’t imagined what the woman in front of you had said. You could feel your ears subconsciously fall against your head, your tail solemnly wrapping around your figure protectively, although, you were unsure what you were protecting yourself from.

You were pregnant.

Tears started to form within your eyes, pleading desperately within yourself to not let them fall. Your breathing started to pick up in pace a little, too, but you will it to calm. Looking down at your stomach, you placed a gentle hand against it, like you were caressing your unborn child.

Your unborn child.

You and Neteyam had had conversations about having a family — any pair of mates would — but your plans were to wait a little longer, to live your lives as you were supposed to before delving deeper into that chapter. It was all too much — you were unsure what to think. Should you be happy that you were having your firstborn child, or should you be worried of your mates reaction, scared he’d resent you for not waiting longer like you’d originally planned?

No words left your lips, throat too parched and nerves too calculated to form a barely coherent response, but you found that you didn’t have the time to. In that moment, Neteyam burst through his grandmother’s tent, eyes wide, ears alert and tail pointed tensely in the air. Someone had clearly seen you enter the Tsahik’s tent with Kiri, looking pale and unwell.

Looking up at him, you could only feel more tears consume your eyes until your vision started to become blurry. He rushed over to you, crouching down next to you, cupping your face in his hands and inspecting every inch of your body. When he couldn’t find anything external, he began to panic, confused. “What is it, ma muntxa (my mate)?”

Your eyes trailed both of his own, looking deeply into them and seeing nothing but pure love and adoration. From next to you, you could see Mo’at and Kiri silently leave the two of you alone in the quiet of the tent, giving you the space you needed.

Hands still stroking softly against your stomach, you looked down, then back up at him, hoping he would understand what you were trying to say without you having to utter the words. His eyes followed to where your hands lay, widening in surprise, his tail beginning to flick back and forth rhythmically.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, almost inaudible. A tear falls down your cheek, cascading to the bottom of your chin.

Neteyam continues to hold your face in his hands, eyes never once leaving your own as his thumb wipes your emotions away. A breathless laugh tumbles from his lips, smile wide and unable to disappear once it’s made its presence known. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

Despite the loving features Neteyam was bearing only to you, you couldn’t help the guilt still continuing to eat away at you. “We didn’t plan for this,” you pause licking your lips in contemplation, “we were going to wait a little longer...”

“Listen to me,” Neteyam starts, voice firm. He shuffles closer to your figure, practically pulling you on top of him, leaving your face in the palms of his hands. “Sometimes plans change, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” One of his hands leaves your face to place it lovingly against your stomach. “Especially when the change involves something like this.”

You can’t look away from, too scared that if you do, he might suddenly change his mind. So, you don’t, and he doesn’t.

Your tears are now winning over, falling onto your face tumultuously, but this time, they’re happy tears, joyful tears. You laugh along with Neteyam, disbelieving to have been so lucky with this blessing from Ewya — both being Neteyam, and your unborn child.

He brings your faces together now, foreheads touching as he rubs your noses together. “I cannot wait to start this new life together with you, ma muntxa (my mate).” You nudge against his nose out of love, causing him to chuckle at your affections. “I will protect you both with my life — and I will care for you both, always.”

Placing a gentle kiss upon your lips, you feel his hands return to the flat of your stomach — this time, his thumbs are running smoothly against the skin there. When he pulls away from your face, you lean closer, desperate for more of him, but you feel your heart ache fondly when you watch him lower himself down, pressing such a feather-like kiss to your stomach that you barely feel it.

“I love you, ma’eveng (my child).”

[goldenwilliamson]

would you maybe be able to write a fic for leah where the reader is a famous singer and goes to an arsenal or england game and then gets to meet the team after and leah is secretly a huge fan trying to play it cool (kind of like becks/posh)???

fan behaviour | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: love this ask, feel like i miiight have read something similar to this but can't remember who wrote it, so apologies for conceptual similarities if there is any. also i reference reader wearing leah's no. 8 england jersey even though leah has worn many different numbers for england lol.

summary: reader is a famous singer who goes to an england game and goes back to meet the girls after, not knowing leah williamson thinks she is the fittest woman to walk the earth. leah's fellow lionesses taking the piss out of her a bit for her crush. reader finding it endlessly endearing, as you would.

word count: 2.1k

When you had asked your manager if she could organise getting you tickets to see the Lionesses play, you hadn't expected that your love for the women's team would be reciprocated in any way. So you were pleasantly surprised when your manager informed you that the team wanted to meet you after the game, and agreed immediately.

You had briefly met a few of the players already at a GQ event last year, and on that occasion you had found yourself completely infatuated with the captain Leah Williamson. You had watched on in the Euros as she lead the team out with such confidence and from there you had definitely developed a small crush on the footballer. You had even sourced yourself a number 8 Williamson jersey to wear to the final at Wembley.

After the historic final you shared a photo of yourself and your family donned proudly in your England jerseys to your instagram that night with the caption 'claiming the title of the @lionesses biggest fan. the girls brought it home ⚽️🔥❤️'. Little did you know that when Leah saw your post, she had made sure everyone on the team had seen that you were wearing her jersey. She couldn't believe her eyes, or that a musician of your status was posting about the Lionesses. In a simple display of mutual affection, Leah liked the post and left a comment saying 'The feeling is mutual, thanks for the love x'.

It wasn't until later in the year that the two of you had finally met at the GQ Men of the Year event after the Euros. You had seen her across the room and made a shamless beeline for her. Though no introductions were necessary, you both introduced yourselves, and right off the bat Leah mentioned the fact that you had posted a photo of yourself in her jersey. You tried your best to play it cool, but you certainly were blushing, which Leah only found more endearing.

"I've got to back the captain haven't I?" You'd told her.

"I'm not complaining, it looked better on you than it does on me," she responded flirtatiously with practised ease.

"You're making me blush now," you pat your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your face.

"Surely you get people complimenting you in every room you walk into," Leah said matter of factly, only flattering you further.

"Leah Williamson, stop inflating my ego!" You laughed, "You live a far more respectable life than I do, and you manage to look this bloody good while doing it," you motion up and down her body with your hands to her outfit, completely blown away by her ability to look so damn good in and out of kit.

"Well I'll take the compliment, but I'll have you know I have a great respect for you and your music," she says sincerely.

"Thank you, I guess it's my turn to take the compliment too," you tell her, and sadly your conversation is cut short by an announcement that the award ceremony is about to commence and that everyone must move to their seats. The rest of the night your mind was occupied with thoughts of the English captain, especially since she was honoured with multiple speeches of people singing her praises.

And while you couldn't have known it, Leah's mind was filled with you. After that night she had strictly listened to your music on repeat for weeks, much to the annoyance of her teammates who demanded something else be played since it was Leah who had the role of team DJ.

A few months later when you decided to secure tickets to the Arnold Clark Cup game in Milton Keynes, you had secretly hoped you might get another encounter with Leah, and your manager had confirmed this at the start of the night.

When the girls were in the change room before hand, news began to travel that you were in the crowd, but it hadn't reached Leah until she queued up one of your songs in the pre-game playlist and realisation dawned on Ella Toone's face.

"Can you believe Y/N Y/L/N is here? Apparently she's going to come say hello after the game," Ella said.

"Is she really?" Leah said, her voice coming out squeaky, the excitement evident.

"Oh good Lee, maybe you can just ask her out like a normal human instead of listening to her like an obsessive fan," Georgia Stanway said loud enough for every one to hear, making the team laugh.

"Give it a rest," Leah shook her head, but she smiled, knowing Georgia had a point.

Leah knew she had spent way too much time thinking about you for only having met you that one time, but she couldn't help it. She definitely felt there was a little chemistry in your brief conversation at the GQ event. She tried not to let herself believe that but, after all, you were one of the most famous artists in the world, and she was just a footballer. She wasn't even sure that you dated women. Either way, the idea that you were in the crowd made her want to put in a good performance.

From your posh seats, which you felt extremely lucky to be in, you were enthralled in the game, cheering as loud as anyone when the girls scored their 4 goals against South Korea. You'd even come wearing a Williamson Jersey under your coat, and throughout the game your eye was consistently drawn to the blonde defender who charmed you those months ago.

When the game ended one of the many people working behind the scenes for the Lionesses came to find you at your seat to escort you and your manager through the back of the stadium down to where the team was.

You could hear the sound of Murder On The Dancefloor playing loudly as you followed your escort towards the change room where the team was clearly celebrating their win. The girls were mostly too busy dancing and shouting along with the song to notice your entrance, which made you smile. You didn't want to disrupt their celebrations by any means, but the woman who brought you down had cleared her throat to get the girls attention.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I've got someone special here who has kindly come to say hello!" She announces to the room and instantly the heads turn your way.

You flash a smile and wave as the music gets turned down, "Sorry to show up in the middle of such a good song," you apologise.

"Are you kidding me? The music can wait, you're Y/N bloody Y/L/N," Ella said, making you laugh.

"And you're Ella bloody Toone, it's so good to meet you. I'm a huge fan of you all," You said, expressing your love for the entire team, looking around the room. Even though you've brushed shoulders with more celebrities than you can count, staring into a room of footballers you admire felt extremely surreal.

"We're fans of yours, especially Leah," Georgia says, gesturing across the room with her thumb towards Leah who you were only managing to see now.

She stood resting against the wall with her arms crossed, shaking her head, "Thanks for that G."

You decide it's getting a bit awkward with everyone staring at you, as if you're about to give a half time pep talk so you try to diffuse the situation a little.

"Well I'd love to get around and have a chat with all of you, but please put your music on and do your thing, I feel silly standing up here in front of you all," you say, smiling.

"You heard her girls, stop staring, play the music Leah," Millie Bright said instructively and you watched as Leah picked her phone up and pressed play on the music.

Instantly many went back to singing along to the Sophie Ellis-Bextor classic, and you made your way over towards Georgia Stanway giving her a hug hello, and sitting down with her for a chat.

"That penalty was unreal," you told Georgia, referring to the goal she scored in the game. You spoke with her easily, feeling like you were catching up with a friend.

You continued to move your way around the room, chatting with some of the girls individually and with some in smaller groups. While they all had compliments for you and questions to ask, you met them with the exact same energy. The room quickly filled up with more people who work for the team and friends and family which made you feel less like you were a lucky fan who had orchestrated a private meet and greet with the team.

The whole time you were in the room you were looking for Leah out of the corner of your eye, wanting to save her for a bit later so you could get some more time to talk with her. Once you'd basically made your rounds of the room chatting to the players and their family members you finally made your way over to Leah.

"Saving the best for last?" Leah smirks at you as you approach.

"Well I'm not one to pick favourites, but I did wear my Williamson jersey tonight," you say, pushing open your coat to show off the white England jersey tucked loosely into your pants.

"I can't get over you wearing my shirt," Leah said, her pearly white teeth on full display, which you reflected with your own face.

"Is it surreal for you? Since I hear you're such a big fan of mine and all," you say, reference Georgia's little quip from earlier which didn't fly under your radar.

"Oh, she's got banter," Leah says, an eyebrow raised.

"She tries," you shrug your shoulders.

"Well if you must know, yes I'm a fan. I may even have been told off for playing too much of your music around the girls," she admits, "But you've got my name on your back so I'd say the feeling is mutual."

"Oh, it's definitely mutual, if anything I'm underplaying how big of a fan I am," you say, your honesty laced with sarcasm.

Leah smiles, "Well if we're being honest I'm really glad you came today, I was disappointed we didn't get to chat more back at that GQ event," Leah says earnestly.

"So was I! I actually tried to find you later that night but had no luck," you said.

"Oh, you did? I was probably just sitting with Alex Scott chatting her ear off about how fit you are," Leah says, her forwardness catching you off guard just slightly.

"Well just as well I came here today then," you said, dropping your voice slightly and leaning in closer to her ear, "Because I haven't stopped thinking about you since that night."

"Well what do you say we get together for coffee soon and we can gush over each other some more?" Leah offers and you light up at the idea.

"I'd say that's a great idea," you nod, laughing, "Here let me give you my number," you motion towards the phone in her hand and she unlocks it, handing it over to you. You open her contacts and create a new one for you.

"Alright, all done," you hand her phone back to her, feeling your heart beating in your chest.

"Perfect, well, Y/N, it was a pleasure to see you again," Leah says, opening her arms for a hug, which you slip into gladly.

"Yes, always a pleasure. Make sure you text me later, don't leave me hanging," you say in your embrace, knowing that you're close enough to Leah that the other girls might not hear.

"I wouldn't dare," Leah promises.

"Alright, good," you smile as you step away.

Now that your conversation has come to an end Leah turns back to the rest of the girls, most of whom are watching your and Leah's interaction very closely.

"Alright girls, Y/N is heading off now, say your goodbyes," Leah says, using what you think must be her captain voice, sounding very assertive.

"Bye guys, it's been so good to meet you all," you tell everyone as they all say goodbye and thank you for coming. You embrace almost everyone in a hug as you slowly making your way back around to the door where your manager waits for you.

You give one last wave goodbye, and have one last look at Leah who is watching every move of yours with a small smile on her face. She waves at you as you look at her and with that you turn and leave the room.

As you walk through the stadium to the back entrance where a car is waiting for you, your manager asks how you're feeling after meeting all the girls.

You giggle like you're a teenager again as you tell her, "I think I have a date with Leah Williamson."

[thelightsandtheroses]

when the rain washes you clean, you'll know

Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Secrets can’t stay hidden forever, not with these rainy days anyway … Warnings: 18+ blog, MDNI, secret relationship vibes, sexual tension, passing mentions of sexism and work, flangst (is it a lolabee fic without this?), copious references to rainy seasons and rain, poor communication, elements of rivalry if you squint maybe? Notes: This is my entry for the very lovely @undercoverpena’s April Showers challenge and I would like to thank this event for giving me some Javi P inspo. The fic title is from the brilliant Fleetwood Mac Dreams. Word Count: 2.7k

April brings the rain in Bogotá. You hear that in Cartagena, they get an extra month of dryness, but you’ve never minded water. You’re used to it.

If you were at your apartment now; with rain pitter pattering against glass windows, steaming coffee in your cup and a whole evening away from the office ahead of you, it would be better, you’d enjoy this moment. Instead, you’re desperately searching your handbag in the vain hope that this time around you will find an umbrella.

The embassy has a few umbrellas near the entrances and exits, but these have already been purloined by people leaving work before you. That will teach you to work late, to try and impress Messina again in vain.

This job isn’t what you expected. You wanted to expand your horizons, to do something wild and reckless with your life while you could. It seemed sensible to do this now, before mortgages and future commitments and expectations made it too difficult to be spontaneous.

The post in Colombia, working for Claudia Messina, seemed like a perfect opportunity. When you were told about it, all you could think was how it would certainly be a change from your small-town world and to learn from a woman rising in a male-dominated field was a dream, as well as a chance to stop the bad guys? You said yes almost automatically.

The reality is different to the images you’d let run wild in your mind. You’re not an active agent, you’re mostly doing translations, paperwork and shadowing Messina. The DEA’s office is dark and dank, illuminated by artificial bulbs and full of cigarette smoke. Your apartment is small and loud. Work takes so much of your time that you feel like you never explore this beautiful country or city and now it’s the wet season.

You feel like your adventure hasn’t yet started. It’s been weeks since you moved here and despite your best intentions, this isn’t what you had hoped for.

“Where are you parked?” a voice asks softly behind you. You turn around and see Agent Javier Peña - the source of most of your late nights of work as you try and untangle his messes or work on a better case for Messina to present.

When you had first joined the DEA office, one of the women in the office had taken you under her wing and shared the gossip and news about all of your new colleagues. She told you that Agent Peña has been in Colombia for years though, longer than most of the other active DEA agents.

He has a reputation. It’s all she’s needed to say to you about him.

Your few conversations with Javier have been professional, concise and fine. You’ve tried to notice his smile, the way he slightly changes his voice when he speaks to you, or any women. You refuse to be a notch in an already impressive bedpost, or to be the woman people talk about.

He might have a reputation, but from what you’ve heard, he’s one of the ‘good guys’. It lowers your guard; lets you point vaguely in the direction of your car. Javier smiles.

It’s a good smile. You can understand the rumours with a smile like that.

“We haven’t met, have we? I’m Javi” Five words. It takes only five words for Javier Peña to ruin everything. “I’d definitely remember seeing someone like you. Which uh, office are you in?”

You stand stonily silent, listening to the water running off the umbrella. Javier looks at you, brow furrowed as you extend the silence.

The rain does sound beautiful.

You open your car door and get in. Part of you wants to leave Javier right there, standing dumbfounded in the rain, his clothes getting damper by the second, the rain pouring over his stupid umbrella.

“I work for Messina, Peña, in the same damn office,” you say finally before slamming the door shut and starting your car engine.

“You changed your hair,” he says, hands on his hips defensively as he stands over your desk. “What’s your problem, Agent Peña?” “You changed your hair, that’s why I didn’t recognise you.” “Right.” You’re proud you manage to avoid physically rolling your eyes at his excuses. “It’s true,” he argues, shifting his position slightly. “Uh huh.” You remember that Colleen has boasted about him noticing her damn nail varnish so this feels weak at best so this hardly feels plausible, but as you look up you notice that Javi appears genuinely disturbed at your reaction. You take in his appearance further, now he’s not at the end of another busy day, isn’t fighting away rain in a damp suit and shirt, with curls peeking through his hair. Today he’s wearing a white shirt with a black pattern on it, his hair slightly scruffy, but moustache carefully sculpted. He smells like cologne and cigarettes. Sweet, woody notes trying to mask smoke and drawing you in like a siren’s song. “Look, this has been … delightful, but do excuse me, Agent Peña,” you say coolly, focusing on each syllable of his surname because you at least remember his name, at least you remember meeting him before yesterday. “I need to get back to work.” “Oh, well, please don’t let me keep you,” Javi replies with a sardonic tone, one eyebrow raised and his arms folded. “I shan’t.” You don’t move. “Must be very important work,” he says pleasantly, a slight smirk at your lack of movement. “Well, someone has to actually work around here,” you reply sweetly.

You don’t need to be a special agent to know that everybody has secrets. It’s a fact of life. There will always be things we keep from others, especially at work. Most of them will be mild and harmless, but some of them won’t be. It’s a constant.

There’s a reliability to this idea that perhaps you’re never getting the true person in front of you; just the shiny version that they want to project, the one that masks all the little secrets like they can’t quit smoking, or they drink milk straight from the carton.

It’s you too. You have a secret.

Your secret is wearing a light blue shirt today. Your secret is walking down the hallway arguing with his colleague. Your secret is the smell of cigarette smoke, whispered words and so much heat.

Your secret now is Agent Javier Peña.

He’s been your secret for weeks; weeks since the teasing banter developed into something else, to lingering touches, to kisses that you need like breathing and hands that map your body in a way you can hardly describe. You spent the month break from rainstorms in between yours and Javi’s apartments under the cover of night and cloud. Now it’s raining again, the wet season truly living up to its name.

Down in the DEA office, you can’t hear or see the rain outside. The windowless, dimly lit basement is a world away from the bustle of Bogota’s streets, yet somehow still is damp. Colombia’s wetness permeates through poorly maintained vents, through wet umbrellas in the bucket by the office door that hint at a world outside.

Steve and Javier are arguing. It’s not subtle, not a quiet disagreement between colleagues. It’s hands on hips, hands in the air, shaking heads and barely concealed curse words.

Maybe you should say something.

Or maybe not.

You try and return to your paperwork and the steaming mug of coffee you’ve been anticipating ever since your morning cup. There’s a coffee shop a few steps from your apartment building and you’ve finally convinced them to sell you some of their coffee blend. It’s not quite the same, but it’s close.

You think of breakfast this morning. The ghost of Javi’s lips on yours.

There’s a noise, a clearing of a throat and you look up to see Steve and Javi standing in front of your desk.

“Messina’s in meetings until five.”

“I know,” Javi says.

“It’s you, we want to speak to.”

You raise an eyebrow. Whatever this is between you and Javi relies on the two of you barely acknowledging one another in the office.

“You’re fluent in Spanish, right?” Steve asks directly.

You nod, still perplexed at how Steve’s Spanish is . “Why?”

“Firearm trained? You’re not just a desk jockey, right? You’re qualified?”

“Came third in my class.” You may have been a little higher if not for a terrible argument with your parents two days before your final exam. It hadn’t been your finest hour. You still carry it with you in every awkward phone call, every stilted letter home.

“Okay. That’s good. So, I don’t see the problem, Javi.”

“She came third. Who came first?’

“Really?” you ask incredulously, hurt and anger raging. How fucking dare he? You’ve told him about how hard it is to be taken seriously in the department, how the sexist roots prevail even with Messina in charge. Institutions can’t change overnight - they need people like you to fight them. Javi had emphasised, talked about his own barriers, the presumptions people had from his surname, his heritage.

He has the decency to look away, eyes abashed and fixated on the floor. Good, you think, that’s the very least he could do.

“I can get one of my informants -” No, you think, no, not one of Javi’s informants. You’ll do it, whatever Steve needs, surely you can do it instead?

“What do you need, Steve?”

This morning feels a world away now, but you let the memory take you away from this moment, from Javi’s inscrutable look when you said yes to Steve, from the fact you’re doing something this brave, this dangerous. You remember the coffee on the stove, its rich aroma seeping through the room as you wander out of Javi’s bedroom. Hands behind, wrapping around your wait and turning you around to meet his kiss. His hands move down your nightdress, teasing at the lacy hem as he moves them underneath. Laughing between kisses. “It’s raining,” you say. “I noticed,” he teases, tracing kisses down to your neck and then back up your jaw. “I think of you when it rains.” “Oh, yeah?” Javi stops for a second and looks at you quizzically. “Of how we got talking, of how we got from there, in that moment to here.” “Well ,I’ve never been more grateful to be caught in the rain.”

You’re starting to wonder if there was ever a time in Colombia that it wasn’t raining. The stormy clouds add to the greyness and foreboding of the street you’re currently parked in.

“Don’t,” Javi says quietly, the rain hitting the car windows and roof, echoing loudly around you. “Please don’t do this.”

You chance a look at him. “Do you not believe I can do this?” you ask, the concealed firearm heavy on your side, the wire Javi had put on feeling all to visible to you. He’d swallowed as he did it, featherlight fingers trying not to linger, you wondered if he was also trying not to default to the usual way he’d touch you.

“Oh, baby, I know you can.” Javi swallows. “But I want to be selfish and tell you not to do this. This isn’t a game, it’s not a drill -”

“I know that. I’ve been through the same training -”

“It’s different. You’ve not seen what I’ve seen.”

“I can handle it,” you reply simply.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Don’t be a sexist.”

“Don’t be so naive then, goddammit!”

“I’ve read the reports, studied the intel. I am not some naive ingenue here, Javi, fuck you for saying that. You made out I was stupid earlier, like I was some -”

“I’m sorry.” You can hear the apology is genuine.

You don’t reply, letting the rain speak for you instead. If you’re honest, you are nervous. This is your first undercover assignment and is so beyond the comfort and safety provided by your windowless desk.

It’s the job though, it’s what is needed.

“I’ve got this, Javi, whether or not you believe in me,”

“I do believe in you. I am sorry. I just - I don’t like it out here. I don’t like me out here, I don’t like who I am or who I become and I don’t - you’re still you. That’s part of what I love about you.”

You raise an eyebrow, meet Javi’s gaze. “Love, huh?”

You expect him to walk his words back, to huff or not say a word. He just shrugs.

“You ready?” Steve asks through the walkie talkie.

You nod before catching yourself, pressing the button and saying, “Yes, yeah, I’m ready and in position.”

“Okay, keep it to what we agreed, nothing else and keep it quick.”

Next to you, Javi looks at you pointedly, reinforcing Steve’s words.

“Understood,” you say and you can’t help but chance a smile at Javi as you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car.

Rain hitting your skin.

Your heart’s racing, it’s so loud you can feel it in your ears. The incessant beating and drumming of adrenaline coursing through your body.

You should be cold, but you’re not. Not as they load them into the van, as Steve pats you on the back to congratulate you on a job well done.

You wish your undercover persona was the type of woman who wore a coat on a rainy night. You wrap your arms around yourself.

You can still hear the gunshot. The shouts.

There’s a weight on your shoulder, the scent of cologne, cigarettes … Javi permeating through your haze.

He stands next to you, leaning against the wall, a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“I’m fine,” you say urgently.

“I know.”

“It’s just … a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought they had made me towards the end.”

Javi pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette before offering you it. You accept it with surprisingly shaky hands.

“I did too,” he admits in a low voice.

“But they didn’t.”

“They didn’t.” Javi pauses. “You did great.”

“You haven’t.”

“I haven’t, what?” he asks playfully, turning to face you. In the dim streetlight, you notice each feature of his face, how it’s illuminated in yellow light and how deep brown his eyes really are. His brow is furrowed, hair slightly dishevelled in the way you normally associate with a good night, but you know from his bad days in the office is from running his hand through his hair too many times.

“Changed,” you say. “You said you don’t like who you become, but you’re you, Javi. I like you. All of you.”

“You say shit like that, I’m going to end up kissing you right here.”

“Dare you,” you tease.

He smirks. “I would,” he replies in a low voice.

“It’d be romantic, with the rain and all. Maybe less so with our colleagues around though. ”

“Is that what you want?”

“Do you?” It’s the first time the two of you have broached this subject. For months, you’ve existed in peace with the parts of Javi he can give you out of an assumption that was all that he could offer. Today seems to have changed things though.

Javi swallows.

“Take away the job, or who you’re hunting, take it all away for a moment. Would you want - would you want to be with me like that?”

“If we were in Texas, if none of this was going on, then nothing would stop me.”

“I’ve never been to Texas,” you muse.

“When this is over, we can go,” Javi says and the vulnerability in his eyes is so alien.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Looks like it’s still raining,” Javi says, noticing your attention at the view outside.

“Yep,” you say, “I suppose we should head back to everyone else, right? Finish the paperwork?”

“I didn’t say it this morning, but I think of you too. When it rains, I always think of you.”

Tag List

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[azure-firecracker]

Fic Rec Roundup!

In honor of my going off to college (my posts will be slowing down), and finishing 3 seasons of TXF, I asked y’all what sort of “special post” you wanted me to make. You voted on a roundup of some of my favorite TXF fics, so here it is! Prepare to watch me gush profusely about the phenomenal writers in this fandom.

This will be in chronological order, so first time watchers like me need not fear spoilers:)

I’m not including my own writing here, but you can find it in my masterpost.

Without further ado, let’s get into the fics!

Season 1:

starstruck by @thursdayinspace (General Audiences, 671 words): Set post-Pilot. The title says it all. This is quite possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever read.

Something Bigger Than Us by Mungo_of_Maundery (General Audiences, 721 words): A nice coda to Deep Throat after Scully rescues Mulder from the air base. Internal monologue is great.

humans in nature by @theswisscheeserag (General Audiences, 2,733 words): Mulder and Scully’s conversations post The Jersey Devil. Philosophy mixed with fluff and some laugh-out-loud humor. Perfectly captures the vibe of early MSR.

Still Feeling My Father Ascend by @cecilysass (Teen and Up, 13,073 words): Mulder and Scully share some tender moments post Beyond the Sea. Both of them have a lot of healing to do, for different reasons. Some of my favorite MSR introspection can be found in this fic, and you can tell how much thought and care this author puts into the characterizations. There’s also several excellent funny moments - a true gem of a fic!

Egit Genius Loci by snow_and_rain (Teen and Up, 21,937 words): Case fic set right after Beyond the Sea. Featuring early-onset MSR, angst, mutual pining, and hurt/comfort. A little whimsical, a little eerie, a little sad.

Between Two Truths by @agent-troi (Teen and Up, 1,621 words): Missing scene from E.B.E after Scully’s speech to Mulder. An excellent internal monologue from Mulder’s POV followed by some top-tier MSR banter.

the progression (and regression) of first names by skuls (Teen and Up, 5,421 words): A series of vignettes exploring Scully and Mulder’s relationship as it evolves throughout Season 1. Pitch-perfect Scully characterization and several moments that really showcase her inner conflict fantastically, but also many wonderfully tender MSR scenes (keep an eye out for the coffee scene - my favorite!)

never learned to read your mind by @swinging-stars-from-satellites (General Audiences, 1,071 words): An alternate version of Season 1 where Scully leaves after Deep Throat. Profound, heartwarming, wistful and a bit sad, this takes an interesting concept and really tugs at your heartstrings.

Season 2:

distractions by @thursdayinspace (General Audiences, 1,181 words): Post-abduction. Mulder does his best to help. Absolutely heart-melting, sweet and tender and a little sad too.

The Safety of Guilt by the_status_clo (Teen and Up, 732 words): Mulder’s guilt post-abduction. Do you like to feel miserable? Do you like to slip into a pit of unwavering guilt and wallow in beautiful words? Read this!

Redial by @theswisscheeserag (Teen and Up, 7,423 words): A frequent reread of mine! Set during Mulder and Scully’s quarantine post-Firewalker and told through a series of phone calls. This fic has everything you could possibly want: introspection, angst, fluff, humor, friendship and romance all mixed into one…it’s just really good in 1000 different ways. Endlessly rereadable.

until it heals by @actual-changeling (Teen and Up, 2,351 words): A post-Irresistible fic that captures all of the poetry, panic, and drama that is Season 2 MSR. Incredibly tender with some stunning inner monologue moments. A perfect coda to my favorite episode.

Authority and Gravity by Xecotcovach (Teen and Up, 2,338 words): Another excellent fic where Scully (with Mulder’s help) tries to deal with some of her season 2 trauma. Their dynamic here is very tender and their banter is just the right amount of sassy and quippy. Set after Fresh Bones.

If You’re Sinking, I Will Jump Right Over by SammyLovesASOIAF (Teen and Up, 1,642 words): An alternate version of End Game where things go…badly-but then Mulder has to confront his emotions!An interesting alternative, angst with a happy ending. Lovely poetic language; I have some lines from this that I remember word-for-word.

Our Town by @leiascully (Teen and Up, 813 words): Scully’s thoughts during and after the climax of Our Town. Very in-character, appropriately intense, really conveys the fear and desperation intertwined with Season 2 MSR.

Season 3:

Light in Dark Places by @agent-troi (Teen and Up, 2,697 words): Set in Season 3 but it’s really about Irresistible and Scully’s insecurities in general. Peak hurt/comfort, this one makes your heart hurt in the best possible way, and then it feels like a warm hug with the resolution.

Got You(r) Back by @shearmouth (Teen and Up, 4,933 words): This is THE injury fic for me. Set post-731. The hurt/comfort levels in here are unmatched. Scully’s internal monologue is perfect. Mulder is an actual puppy and Scully takes care of him and it makes my heart melt in all of the right ways.

stay close, listen by @actual-changeling (Teen and Up, 2,667 words): Post Pusher. Very angsty, but in the best possible way and with an extremely satisfying resolution. This fic definitely wins best-written: it’s essentially poetry, and its uses of metaphor and literary references are stunning. I can’t recommend this enough.

find me defenseless by @impulsive-astrophile (Mature, 7,421 words): Case fic! Do you like Mulder torture? Do you like badass Scully? If so, you will love this fic because it has both in spades (plus-spoilers-a wonderful ending to make up for the pain). Whenever I’m fed up with the show’s kidnapping ratio, I read this: it’s probably my most frequent reread. I will say that it is more violent than anything I’ve written, so be aware.

Unconfirmed timing but spoiler-free:

unravelling by @actual-changeling (General Audiences, 2,208 words): Scully wakes up to a familiar voice theorizing on her television. What follows is as sweet and humorous as it is charged and just a little tragic.

Shakespirited by orphan_account (Teen and Up, 13,670 words): A fic that I’m pretty sure was written specifically for me. Mulder and Scully go undercover in a Shakespeare troupe plagued by strange murders. If you like TXF and are a Shakespeare nerd, you will love this. Definition of a good time (but there’s some angst too-how could there not be?) I think there are some minor spoilers in here, but nothing to really tell you anything as long as you’ve seen up to Anasazi.

Sometimes You Need to Have Fun by @baronessblixen (Teen and Up, 1,192 words): Fluff written by the queen of fluff herself! Mulder and Scully go ice skating. It’s as adorable and sappy as it sounds.

Stupid Cupid by @mulderwearingglasses (General Audiences, 5,325 words): A Valentine’s Day fic! This features jealous Scully (a delight) as well as some excellent humor and fluff. Overall just a lovely time. There may be some minor spoilers in here, but nothing that told me anything.

[tojisun]

pretty when i cry

recom miles quaritch x fem na’vi reader x olo’eyktan jake sully

!! smut - minors dni; pwp; threesome (p in v & oral); dacryphilia; size difference; hinted age gap (not really mentioned much because focus is on the size diff); power imbalance; extended foreplay (fingering); purity kink; corruption kink; dumbification; manhandling; slight exhibition kink; daddy kink; breeding kink; creampie; squirting; slight belly bulge; na’vi and english petnames; mean tease jake and quaritch; mutual possessiveness; switching povs // 5.7k words

: i wrote this when i was well-rested from my vacation and it exploded into this behemoth of a smut fic wheww; the fingering went on for too long bc, well, hands <33; i’m changing the format of the bulk of the fic to reduce eye strain; im super nervous posting this but i hope you guys would love it 🥹; title is from pretty when you cry - lana

jake watches, his throat parched, as quaritch (alive and looking too damn well as a na’vi) hefts you onto his lap, manhandling your smaller body so that your legs are spread wide open, giving jake a good view of your leaking cunt. your face is flushed, blue skin turning into a delicious purple, your eyes screwed shut as though by ignoring their hungry gazes, you wouldn’t feel the shame thrumming in your veins.

jake thinks you look so beautiful bathed in your shame – your lust burning at your core.

you’ve always been so tiny – the runt of the clan – but jake hadn’t seen the perks of your constitution, given that he’d been too busy worrying about you. you’ve always been his little doll, his little angel; the one who drove his protective instincts into new heights. 

he wanted to keep you safe, yes, but he also wanted to keep you pure. naive. blindly trusting him because jake promised, didn’t he? he promised that he’d always protect and guide you? and jake had watched the way you melted in his arms, nodding at him softly, watching him with reverence as though the weight of his words exceeded that of eywa’s. 

then quaritch swooped in, with his sharp fangs and sharper words, and then jake was losing you to him. because while jake desired your innocence, quaritch lusted for your corruption. and quaritch is too good at corrupting.

(“well, there’s no rule that says we can’t share her, corporal.”

jake’s fury evaporated, the clawing possessiveness that had him in a bind loosened up as his ears twitched at hearing quaritch’s drawled out words. the motherfucker smirked, slanted eyes curving in amusement at jake’s sudden interest.

“oh, so now we listenin’ to lil ol’ me, huh?” 

jake’s tail snapped behind him, the limb whipping in agitation. quaritch just rolled his eyes at jake’s reaction, sighing through his nose as he leaned back to his seat, looking far too calm as though he and jake weren’t just arguing, almost fighting, over who gets to claim you.

any other day, jake would realize that he was acting just as selfishly as quaritch was; that despite all his bravado and promises of being the better man for you, he had only ended up following the colonel’s footsteps. but for now, jake didn’t care. not when whatever quaritch was offering seemed too good to reject.

quaritch huffed at jake’s silence, choosing to use it as a hint to keep on talking. “it’s not like we got any other choice, sully. for whatever fucked up reason, my girl wants you just as much, and i’m willin’ to share because, well.”

‘because i love her’ went unsaid but both jake and quaritch knew the words that he kept to himself.

jake swallowed the lump lodged in his throat, blinking his eyes to bat away the choking feeling of his possessiveness, chasing away the last remnants of his hesitancy as he hissed, “she’s my girl too, quaritch.”

it was as good as a crystal agreement and quaritch laughed, loud and booming.

“well, alright then.”)

it was natural to let quaritch take the lead and to have him do the talking. jake held your hand throughout, his thumb rubbing along the ridges of your knuckles as quaritch talked about soulmates and compatibility, things that jake knew the other man barely believed in, and ending his tirade with a “you’d love us equally, won’t you, princess?”

your eyes were wide as you listened to him talk, and jake almost cooed at how cute you looked with your lips parted open and your tail swishing behind you excitedly, but before he could do so, you ripped your hand from his hold and jumped right into quaritch’s arms.

jake had to admit, seeing you dwarfed by quaritch’s bigger and bulkier form stirred something in him. 

and, apparently, it did something to quaritch too, seeing as there you are, sat on the colonel’s lap, squealing as he fucks two of his fingers into your sopping cunt. 

jake is unable to hold in his ragged groans as he hears the wet sound made by a particularly hard thrust, your juices leaking past thick fingers. he doesn’t know when he stopped feeling jealous that it wasn’t him who was fucking your pussy, and started to feel unabashed excitement at seeing you fall apart because of someone else’s doing. 

he palms his hard cock through his tewng just in time to hear you keen, your back arched in that delicious way that always renders jake speechless. the beads of your braids click together when you begin to shake your head, raising your hand to wrap it around quaritch’s wrist. 

“my’lus, close! ‘m close!”

jake laughs at hearing the butchered name of the colonel coming from those beautiful lips of yours that he loves to kiss so much before he flicks his eyes up to meet quaritch’s glare, the heat behind it absolutely cooled down seeing as he cradled the love of jake’s life – the very person that quaritch loves above all. 

“don’t you tease my cupcake, sully. if she calls me ‘my’lus’, i am ‘my’lus’, aren’t i, princess?” he coos at you, as though his fingers aren’t digging into your cunt and rubbing along your heated walls, crooking them just right as his thumb flicks at your hardened nub.

all you could do was whimper, batting those pretty lashes up at quaritch as though your tears could soften the man into giving you what you needed. quaritch just grins, winking, and you let out a pathetic little sniffle that peters off into a choked moan when he just thrusts his fingers into your cunt again. 

jake shucks off his tewng, impatiently chucking the cloth to the side before closing his fist around his pulsing cock. he grunts at the warm pleasure that erupted from finally touching his sensitive length, tightening his fist along the flushed head as he begins rubbing his thumb across the leaking slit, causing shivers to rack his body. 

he doesn’t realize that he’s closed his eyes until he physically has to peel them open, needing to see you be stuffed by quaritch. expecting to only see the way your eyes would roll back to your skull, overwhelmed by the teasing fingers taking you apart, electrical euphoria seizes him when he meets your teary gaze instead. 

-

miles’ other hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to prop your head up and watch as jake fucked his fist, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“see him, darlin’? y’see how frantic you made him?” miles’ voice rumbles in your ear, his lips ghosting along the side of your face. he stops his fingers, uncaring of your needy whines, and you realize, amidst tears and hiccupped gasps, that he is waiting for you to reply. so you clamp down on your breathy whimpers, keeping your focus on jake, before giving miles a soft nod. 

your eyes trail over jake, taking him in. his locs are out of his hair tie, the strands falling to frame his face, giving shadows over his usually-soft features, making them look much sharper than what you’re used to. his lips are pulled back in a snarl, his fangs nipping at them as he loses himself to his thoughts. his arms are flexed, bulging muscles rippling with his every move, and his belly is flexed, making way to show off the abs hidden underneath the slight swell of his stomach. 

“y’know what got him actin’ all desperate?” miles’ voice is teasing, like he knows something you don’t. you shake your head, humming in question, breathless as miles begins to spread his fingers again, grunting in delight when your tight walls clamped down on them. 

“he’s thinkin’ about you, sweet girl. he’s thinkin’ about fuckin’ you the way i do.” miles presses a soft kiss on the shell of your ear as he says this, slowly dragging his fingers out of your heat, pulling moans from your kissed-swollen lips and silencing your heady mind. 

it takes a while before the weight of his words sink in, and when they do, you gasp, jolting from miles’ lap with the crashing need to touch jake. to feel him.

you want jake. you want him to press close; to engulf you with his warmth and spear his leaking cock into your cunt. you want his kisses. his mating. his everything. eywa, why is he sitting so far away? why isn’t he touching you right now?

miles chuckles at seeing you pout, dragging his lips across your cheek, but you don’t pay him any mind as your attention is pulled into watching jake’s eyes flutter open, only to hear your heart stutter at seeing what were once pools of vibrant ambers transformed into thin rings of gold. 

all because he desires you. 

“jesus,” miles growls, bumping his forehead into the back of your shoulder. “goddamn, love. you just clenched on my fingers there.” his fangs nip your skin, and you feel the vibrations of his hums reverberating from where his lips are pressed. 

you couldn’t stop the shiver that raced down your body when jake’s eyes snap to your cunt at miles’ words, his gaze zoning in on the way miles is cupping your pussy. you watch the way he studies miles’ palm rubbing against your tiny nub, the other man’s teasing touches turning into something more desperate as though the tight squeeze of your walls on his fingers are translating into a more direct pleasure for him. as though miles could already feel how your cunt would hug his thick cock. 

you squirm on his lap, new bouts of tears trickling from the corners of your eyes when miles pulls his fingers out only to slam them back in you again, your back arching from his chest at the familiar numbing ecstasy that miles has delightfully taken to extinguishing just moments before you could tip over into your sweet orgasm. your lips fall for a silent scream, your ears ringing with static.

loppy and delirious from your increasing euphoria, you reach out for jake, wordlessly begging him to come and finally touch you. 

jake doesn’t need to be prompted twice.

-

he clambers to the spot just in front of you, trying to ignore quaritch altogether. but it is futile, especially when all jake can focus on is the consistent wap-wap-wap of the colonel’s thick fingers fucking you oh so deliciously. 

you are wailing, dazed and drunk off of your arousal. jake bets that you don’t even know the way you are clawing at quaritch’s RDA-issued shirt, your blunt fingernails catching onto the cloth and causing runs into the fabric. 

jake slots himself perfectly into the space between your parted legs and he takes the time to appreciate your toned thighs, dragging his eyes over the expanse of your skin that is shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat. his eyes stay frozen at your debauched cunt, your folds swollen from how much it’s been played with. the results of quaritch’s drawled out edging continue to trickle from your heat, dampening your inner thighs and creating a wet spot in the sheets. jake chuckles at the mess you’ve made before trailing his gaze over your tanhi, running his eyes from your belly, spasming with every ragged breath, to your perky tits. 

you’ve been stripped to full nudity, your necklace-top and your tewng had been ripped apart by quaritch’s impatient hands. jake remembers hissing at him, growling from the base of his throat because those had been one of the many gifts jake made for you. quaritch laughed and said, “all the more reason to tear ‘em up.”

despite his initial anger, jake can’t say that he doesn’t understand the eagerness lining quaritch’s actions. they’ve both wanted to touch you for so long now, dancing around like idiots as they courted for your hand, only to end up in this tangled mess.

but what a sight you make, he thinks. 

“look at you, paskalin,” jake whispers, his voice a gunshot amidst the melody of nothing but your sweet moans.

your head snaps up to meet his gaze and jake coos when your teary eyes can barely hold the stare, too distracted by the continuous edging of quaritch’s fingers. jake cups your jaw, rubbing soothing nothings on the skin just underneath your lashes and wiping away the tears drenching your cheeks. 

“y’r so beautiful,” he continues, folding himself before you to duck his head until you two are lips-to-lips. then, he presses them against yours, holding the chaste kiss, before pulling back just enough that your noses are bumping together. 

jake can feel your stuttering breaths against his mouth and he can’t stop the adoring smile that tugs up at his lips. “y’ve got us into a tizzy, sweetheart.”

“teezi?” you ask, struggling with the accent, and only then does jake realize that you’re no longer mewling.

jake dips his head down, curious, and is delighted to see your cunt finally free. he purrs at the sight of your hardened nub, nestled atop your puffy folds. he notes the way quaritch’s hands are holding your thighs apart, spreading you all for jake to gawk at. 

“oh, baby girl,” he croons, desire slamming into him. “y’r cunt’s all messy.” he swipes a finger over the slit of your pussy, chuckling when he hears your breath hitching at the teasing touch.

“ma’jake,” you whine, looping your arms around his neck, pulling him close, nuzzling your cheek on his neck. jake hums in faux curiosity, as though he doesn’t have a single clue about what he does to you.

still, he bucks close, his hands wrapping around your itty-bitty waist – not minding the fact that by doing so, he can feel quaritch’s abdomen pressed to your back – to drag you closer to him. you easily follow, falling to your knees and eagerly crawling to him.

jake chuckles at quaritch’s huff, his smile easing off when the colonel appeases himself by twirling your tail around his hand, gently tugging, coaxing more whines from your sore throat. 

“that’s right, baby cheeks,” quaritch murmurs fondly, before he bends over to nip at the tufts of your tail, knowing just how sensitive you are there. he’s rewarded with a drawled out keen, your pretty lashes batting together as you twist to turn to quaritch. your back arches beautifully as you do this, and jake’s hold on your waist gathers strength, unable to help himself 

jake rubs at your waist to calm you down, rumbling quiet shushing noises and shooting quaritch a glare. “my turn, colonel. lemme make my baby feel good.”

quaritch huffs, still holding onto your tail, but he pulls back, giving space for jake to move. jake takes it greedily, sliding his hands down to hold your hips, pulling you to his lap. his lips meet yours right away, devouring your surprised squeak. 

he feels your hands grip his shoulders, breathy trills of your happy sighs being engulfed by his rumbling grunts, and jake couldn’t stop himself from thrusting his cock along the folds of your soaked heat. the touch sends you buckling on his lap, your lips leaving his as your head falls back for a muted gasp. jake snarls when he sees your pretty neck, and buries his fangs into your skin, nipping. marking. 

mine, he thinks. my pretty mate.

“ma’jake!” you moan as you fist his locs, your hips rolling over his cock. “ma’jake, plea- my’lus, nooo.”

the sob catches jake’s attention, his curiosity bleeding past his arousal, and he looks up, thrill running down his spine when he sees the way quaritch’s hands are planted on your pretty tits, his big hands dwarfing the mounds, while his fingers tweak at your hardened nipples. quaritch’s face is pressed on the back of your head, and jake strains his ears when he sees the other man’s lips moving.

“s’right, cupcake,” is what jake hears first. “we’re gon’ fill up that tiny cunt of y’rs an’ make y’feel the stretch. we’re gon’ take turns stuffin’ you whole until y’r pussy can’t forget our shapes.”

jake startles at your whimper, the sound ricocheting within the small space between you two. he tears his eyes away from quaritch – fuming when he realized that he had been swayed by the colonel’s words, his own tail wagging behind him like a goddamn dog in heat, drunk off of his promises – and turns to you. 

your wet eyes blink down at him although he knows that you’re not really seeing him, not when your head has you tumbling images of what he and quaritch want to do with you. still, it has jake cooing as he bucks his hips up, purposefully grinding his hard cock along your weeping cunt again. 

“that’s right, yawne,” jake murmurs, his voice heady and rugged. 

“gon stuff this full,” he dips you down to his cock when he murmurs this. he snarls when you nod, soft giggles creeping from your lips when you notice the desperation in jake’s voice.

“y’love that, princess?” quaritch asks, covering your back with his bulk again, his greedy hands coming up to press your tits together, making the two of them salaciously hum at the cleavage your tits made. 

you nod, sighing, nuzzling your head back onto quaritch’s chest. 

jake clicks his tongue. “use y’r words, paskalin.”

“yes, please,” you finally utter, and jake’s heart thuds in his chest at hearing how ruined you sound. 

“there’s my girl,” quaritch drawls out, sounding just as intoxicated as jake feels. 

-

miles diligently holds your legs open, watching with bated breath as jake gently slides his cock into your wet cunt. he can feel your heaving chest as you continue to watch jake claim your tight pussy for the very first time, noting the way your breath hitches at the possible sting, and miles distracts you with the teasing touches he glides across your dewy skin.

“shh, princess,” miles whispers, nipping the shell of your ear. “didn’t i promise that i’ve got you?”

you nod, a broken little thing, and miles feels pity rise amidst the curl of arousal burning underneath his skin. 

he shoots jake a glare. “damn it, corporal. fuckin’ take it easy.”

jake snaps his golden eyes up at him – the eyes of a predator, miles thinks – growling, and miles raises a brow at the incredulity of jake’s sudden possessiveness. rearing his head back, he lets out a responding hiss, letting go of your perky tits to wrap his arms completely around your chest. 

there is a pregnant pause, the two of them posturing against each other, before a quiet action draws their attention back to you.

your head is tilted to the side, bearing your neck, and from his angle, miles no longer has a view of your pretty face. that’s quite alright, he thinks, feeling his cock jump from his trousers. 

miles doesn’t know much about the na’vi. not their customs or their culture, and he just holds enough knowledge of their language because he loves talking to you. but this? he doesn’t even have to glance at jake to ask what you’re doing. he knows what it is.

you’re fucking presenting to them.

“oh, ma’paskalin,” is all jake says, his voice thick with emotions, before he’s sinking his cock into you all the way. miles growls in appreciation when your back arches, your head falling to his chest as you moan, your eyes rolling back to your skull. 

miles lets go of your sides, a hand coming up to cup your jaw as he tips your head further down until he can kiss you. you are too overwhelmed with pleasure to kiss back, but miles doesn’t mind, choosing to suck on your bottom lip instead until it is slick and swollen. 

you claw at his neck, broken hiccups being swallowed by miles’ hungry mouth, before he groans at feeling your small body getting jostled. the action is followed by distinct slapping noises and jake’s grunted moans.

miles breaks the kiss and he is instantly gifted with the sweet cries spilling from your lips.

“my’lus!” you squeal, outright sobbing in his arms, and miles roars out a laugh. 

jake snarls before you get tugged out of miles’ hold, landing directly on top of jake’s cock, making the whole length of it sink into you. 

“my goddamn name,” jake growls, grasping at your hips to bounce you on top of him. “say my name, yawne. i’m the one fuckin’ you.”

miles takes delight in your cock-drunk self, too uninhibited to respect jake’s demands. jake snarls again as he fucks up into your cunt, your leaking slick making the slaps of your skins reverberate wetly. 

miles feels himself shiver at the messiness of it all. it’s his turn to watch you get fucked into oblivion by another man, and miles thought that he’d be put off by seeing someone else mating you, but he can’t help but love the sight that you and jake make.

miles strips his shirt and throws it behind him, mentally noting that if it’s clean enough, then he’d want you to wear it. ever since jake mentioned that whatever you’ve been wearing was made by himself, miles began wanting to see you in something of his own possession too.

he unzips his pants, not having any more effort to stand up and strip it off himself completely, before pulling his cock out. he turns to the two of you again, ready to use you both as spank bank material, only to see how jake’s turned into a pure fucking animal. 

the olo’eyktan is snapping his teeth at whatever expanse of your skin is presented to him, digging his fangs and marking you for himself. his hands had fallen from your hips and found purchase on your beautiful ass, where he’s got fists full of your flesh while he uses you as his personal cocksleeve, slamming you down onto his cock and then lifting you up until all that’s left is his head, before repeating the delicious process all over again. 

miles has to grip his cock to stop himself from cumming when he sees the way jake’s fingers are dimpling your skin, not wanting to waste a single drop of his seed outside of your cunt. he’ll bury all of his seed in you, he promises, quietly moaning to himself.

-

quaritch is so lost in trying to stop himself from tipping over the edge that he doesn’t notice the way jake manhandles you so that you’re now facing quaritch. jake’s arm is snug around your waist, his other hand circling your neck, as he waits until quaritch’s attention is back on you two.

jake watches the moment quaritch gets a hold of himself, the other man’s chest heaving due to his ragged breaths, before golden eyes snap open to zone in on you. 

jake doesn’t even care that quaritch ignored him completely, not when jake knows the sight that you must make: stuffed with his cock, your legs trembling as you hold them apart for your audience to show off your puffy pussy that is currently stretched in an obscene way. jake knows how your face must be wet with fresh tears or the way your lips are swollen from being devoured by the two of them, or how your pretty little tits are perky and flushed, much like the soft curve of your neck that is littered with hickeys.

“jake, more! more, please! i want more!” you beg oh so sinfully, sniffling when jake just ruts his cock into your pussy instead of giving you what you want.

jake clicks his tongue as he tightens his hand around your neck, not really hurting but putting enough pressure to render you speechless. he hums at your silence before turning to quaritch again.

“look how beautiful she is,” jake says, his voice full of pride. “my syulang’s takin’ me so well, isn’t she?”

quaritch nods, and jake notes how his eyes aren’t meeting his nor are they meeting yours. he follows quaritch’s gaze, turning his head to study your body, roving his gaze across the expanse of your beautiful self, before finally stopping at the skin just below your belly.

fucking hell.

“her pussy’s snug, ain’t it?” quaritch asks, rhetorical and sounding too far away like he doesn’t actually give a shit about holding the conversation.

jake can’t blame him. if he wasn’t the one tasting you, he’d be just as drunk at the image you paint. his hand leaves your waist to slide down your belly, before stopping directly on the taut skin of your womb. 

“look how far she’s takin’ me, quaritch,” jake whispers reverently, before he presses his lips on your shoulder. “she got me nestled all the way here.”

jake taps the bulge that’s formed in your belly, and quaritch chokes on his words, unable to stop himself any longer. his fist rocks down his cock again, trying to alleviate the itch pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

you hiccup, lifting your lither hand to rest on top of jake’s and jake croons, softly nuzzling his cheek on your shoulder. his touch is tender, like he’s not moulding your cunt to remember his shape. 

“m-ma’jake,” you stutter, your legs squeezing close when jake rocks into you again. “i want-” a sob breaks your words. “ma’muntxatan, please, i want more.”

quaritch growls, creeping closer upon hearing your words. “he ain’t your only mate, princess.”

-

miles pinches your chin and you blink up at him with a soft sniffle. he taps your lips, remaining quiet, and you want to call for him and beg him to touch you. but all thoughts fly away when jake lifts you up just enough that the slow drag of his cock is torturous, your walls spasming around his length as though trying to stop him from sliding out.

you grip miles’ wrist, using him to tether yourself, and as you do so, you almost miss his words.

“come on, baby,” miles murmurs, his hand leaving your chin to scruff you by your nape. “open y’r mouth for daddy, yeah?”

you purr at the familiar nickname that falls from his lips, the very same one that danced on your tongue, in the privacy of your hut, when you’ve learnt what it meant for the tawtute. 

“fuck, quaritch,” jake murmurs from behind you. “she jus’ squeezed me.”

miles laughs. “is that right, sweetheart?” you feel him pushing you to your elbows, gentle as jake continues to hump at your pussy. “you wanna call me ‘daddy’?” 

you lick the back of your teeth, going shy all of a sudden, but jake’s hand rubs soothing nothings on your back, as though coaxing you to murmur your agreement. 

“yes, daddy,” you readily say, peering up at quaritch through your lashes. you clear your throat, parting your lips only to gasp when you feel jake’s cock slide out of you completely. 

“ma’jake, no!” you cry, twisting, but his hands on your back stop you. 

“jus’ a temporary change, baby girl,” jake reassures, chuckling to himself softly. 

miles takes over, grasping your flushed cheeks with his big hands and urging you to turn to him. you gasp when you are faced with his thick cock, your throat going dry at the size of it. 

“remember when i told you we’d stuff you full, sweetheart?” he asks, grunting when the soft puffs of your breath tickle his sensitive length. 

you nod, humming, not breaking your stare at his beautiful cock. 

“well, would you open y’r pretty mouth for daddy?” miles presses his cock to your lips as he asks this, the leaking head tainting your swollen lips with his tangy taste. 

you can’t help the way your tongue juts out and swipes at the sensitive flesh, your arms wobbling when the taste of miles explodes on your tongue. you don’t utter anything anymore as you part your lips as wide as you can before wrapping them around the head of miles’ cock. it is thick and heavy, but you are resolute to tasting it all.

“gentle with your fangs, princess,” miles murmurs, and you hum around a mouthful, relaying to him that you’ve heard him well. the action has him fisting at your braids, hisses spilling from his curled lips. 

“motherfucker!”

you pause, nervous, but miles doesn’t sound angry so you return to swallowing as much as you can. as you do so, you feel jake’s hand spreading your folds apart with his cool fingers, sending jolts of pleasure dancing across your skin.

you try to lift your head up from miles’ cock but find yourself unable to as miles holds your head in place, his grunts ramping up in volume.

in contrast, jake is quiet as he lines up his cock before the entrance of your cunt again. this time, the slide isn’t slow as jake slams all the way in.

you moan around miles’ cock, seeing your vision blurring at the explosive pleasure that overtakes all of your sensitive cores. miles curses from somewhere in front of you before more of his cock slides into your mouth, the head of it bumping the back of your throat.

your arms go weak and you almost collapse, had it not been for jake pulling you to his chest, his face burrowed on the crook of your neck. he snaps his hips forward, bucking, and it makes miles’ cock slide further down your throat. 

you are delirious from the pleasure, your lungs constricting from the overpowering mating capabilities of your two mates. distantly, you feel drool sliding past your stretched lips, as well as the stinging of your ass as jake’s pelvis continues to slap it with the force of his thrusts.

“y’r takin’ me so well, paskalin,” jake croons, his lips roving over your marked neck. “my sweet girl, y’r pussy’s made f’r me, isn’t it?”

you mewl, trying your best to tell jake that yes, you’re his. you’re theirs. but the garbling sound makes miles buck forward, fully burying himself down your throat. before you can get used to his size, he is sliding his cock out, leaving just the head of it grazing your lips, and you blink your teary eyes at him, not knowing what it is that you want miles to do.

miles grins, something that spells danger, and then he is fucking his cock back into your throat. you squeal, not expecting miles’ sudden move or the way that jake thrusted his cock back in your pussy at the same time that miles did.

you go blind for a second, and you feel a spray coming from your heat, drenching your and jake’s thighs. you do not know what the word for it is – you feel yourself coming down from something akin to a high – but both jake and miles moan at the sight of your leaking cunt, rendering them into a frenzy.

“fuckin’ knew y’r a squirter, sweetheart,” miles growls, his ragged voice slicing through the white noise in your head. “i’d want that on my tongue, next time.”

jake groans, the sound pressed onto your shoulder blades. “she’d look so good sittin’ on our faces,” he says. “she’ll cry so prettily but she won’t leave because my baby girl’s a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you, love?”

you can’t reply, too dizzy with the overlapping scent of jake and miles, the two of them complimenting each other. miles grunts in agreement with whatever jake muttered. 

“she’s gon’ beg so prettily – battin’ those pretty lashes, callin’ me ‘daddy’,” quaritch smirks. 

jake howls, his hips stuttering as he buries himself all the way in your cunt, making your belly bulge once again. you sob at the feeling of being stuffed to the brim, your walls clinging onto his length, still so unused to it even after all his teasing.

“gon’ breed you now, yawne,” jake murmurs, his words slurring like he’s drunk. “gon’ bury my seed in you. you want that, won’t you, my love?” 

jake isn’t even done talking when miles pipes in, his thumbs rubbing soothing nothings along your cheekbones. “swallow carefully, princess. daddy doesn’t wanna see you choke.”

then, he stuffs your throat with his cock, the rough fabric of his cargo rubbing against your chin. you whine when it becomes too difficult to breathe and miles murmurs his apologies, sliding out just enough until you are not smothered. 

explosions of heavy warmth fill you up and you squeal, not expecting the gushing warmth that settles in your belly. jake croons at you throughout, murmuring how good you are taking them, how beautiful you would look swollen with their seed. miles remains quiet, choosing instead to watch as you carefully swallow his seed just as he instructed. 

he boops your nose when the last of it is gone.

miles is the first one to pull out, his cock leaving your lips with a distinct ‘pop’. you cringe at the tangy taste remaining on your tongue and miles just huffs, swiping at your bottom lip before he’s pulling you up from your elbows and propping you on your knees.

jake hisses at the sudden move, but with nothing else to pump out, he pulls his spent cock out of you too. you whimper at the oversensitivity it caused and jake murmurs his apologies, pressing his front to your sweaty back, as though he is trying to meld himself to you.

feeling empty, you collapse in miles’ arms, exhaustion hitting you with its full force. miles hums, pushing your braids away from your sweaty face in his attempts at grooming you clean. jake takes the spot behind you again, careful with your sensitive backside and your limp tail.

there is silence as you catch your breath, trying to ignore the feeling of jake’s seed slowly seeping out of your heat. miles settles on your other side, pulling your head so that it is pillowed by his arms. you smile at him in gratitude, unable to use your throat.

it takes a quiet moment until miles murmurs, “lemme taste y’r cunt next, princess.”

[hey-august]

I know I'm pathetic - Pt 1

(Fic tag)

WC: ~450 Warnings for the entire story: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, dubcon, auralism, masturbation, buggy is a fucking perv, slight degradation kink Tag list: @rorywritesjunk

Title from Pathetic by blink-182

It happened again. Buggy lost his goddamn ear somewhere on the ship. He misplaced the small appendage during the afternoon, some time between bottles three and four. It wasn’t the only bit of himself that he lost, but the only one he wasn’t able to track down hours later.

The crew knew to put his body parts in plain sight whenever they came across abandoned pieces - setting them in a hallway or on a table so they can find their way home. This became a rule after too many hungover mornings were spent playing hide-and-seek. Any crew members that couldn’t find a good place to hide themselves were recruited to find any hidden body parts littered around the ship.

After The Great Search for Buggy’s Middle Finger, came The Great Ice-Out of Captain Shithead. Buggy barely made it through half the day before he had an unprecedented meltdown.

Cabaji eventually caved and told the distraught clown that the only way to get the crew to acknowledge him beyond following orders was to deal with his rogue body parts on his own. The captain only agreed when Cabaji had enough of the emotional outburst and dismissive arguments about shared responsibilities.

Buggy was still prowling the ship late at night, shoulders tight and fists clenching and unclenching with each step. He was looking and listening for anything that would help him find his fucking ear. Every so often he heard something, but not enough to figure out where it was. Until he could hone in and concentrate, he wouldn’t be able to pull himself together.

His head was beginning to ache with how hard he was focusing on the muffled thuds and thumps that had been sounding off for the past few minutes. Finally, Buggy heard something different. It was a little more crisp, but he couldn’t place what the sound was. Maybe it was the ship creaking.

“Oh fuck…”

He recognized that voice. Your voice. Where were you? Who were you talking to? Did you find his ear?

“Fuck!”

Your voice was still muffled, but it sounded like you were talking softly. Buggy couldn’t hear anything or anyone else. Taking a chance, he hustled to where your room was. As he got closer, the pirate felt the invisible thread that stitched his body together get stronger. His ear must be in your room. Fucking finally.

This wouldn’t be the first time he wound up somewhere odd. Especially with something small, it was easy for little bits and pieces to get caught up in and carried away. Swaddled in laundry, rolling with heavy waves, bumped and jostled until they were trappedin some nook.

With one hand raised to knock on your door and the other reaching for your doorknob, a new sound stopped all of Buggy’s movements.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

yin & yang pt. 4

Pairing: Ben Tennyson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.7k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You were an unlikely pair, everyone could see that. But what happens when you get a glimpse into a future where your differences were too much for you to bear?

A/N: Once again just a silly little self-indulgent fic. Hope you enjoy!

Ben groaned in boredom, laying his face against the dirty tables outside Mr. Smoothie. Not even the smoothie, cheekily titled banana-fantana, was able to cheer him up like Gwen had been hoping.

"What's up with you?" Kevin asked, drinking his soda that he got from a nearby vending machine, after he had refused a smoothie four times.

"I miss (Y/N)." He mumbled, pouting.

They shared a glance over his head. Gwen ushered for Kevin to speak but he shook his head adamantly, mouthing that he wanted no part in this and crossing his arms.

Gwen glared at him.

"Speaking of (Y/N)—" Kevin began, all too quickly.

Ben finally raised his head from the table to look at Kevin and his friend bit his tongue, turning back to Gwen with wide eyes and beckoning her to speak.

"Uh, it's not that we don't like (Y/N)—we do! She's a great addition to the team and a good friend even—and um, Kevin?"

The man in question gave her a wicked glare before Ben turned to him and the murderous expression on his face was wiped away, "Gwen's just concerned that you might be—how did she put it—'acting like a lovesick fool'."

The look he got from Gwen was in stark contrast to the pig-headed grin he was bearing.

"What are you talking about?"

Gwen finally sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We all know that you have this crush on (Y/N) but—and I mean this in the nicest way possible—but don't you think it's time that you start, you know, trying to get over her?"

He raised a brow, "Why on earth would I do that?"

"It's nice that you like her so much, but you know what (Y/N)'s like; she's driven and focused and her career as a Proctor is the most important thing to her—not that that's a bad thing! It's just—well—someone like that doesn't really seem like the type to date or be into relationships, you know?"

"That's not all what she's about. I know it doesn't seem like it but she's actually really sensitive and sweet."

They shared another glance, unconvinced.

"Guys, I'm serious! We have something between us!" He defended, unconsciously clenching his fist, and crushing the half-full smoothie cup in his hand.

Gwen let out an irate sigh.

Growing up, she had only heard of how smart she was from everyone surrounding her—her parents, her grandfather, even Ben—and yet whenever she tried to explain something to people, they tended not to listen.

If only Ben would listen to her now, he'd be able to avoid so much pain in the future. Whenever she tried to gently nudge him, he'd never listen so this time she took a more direct approach and yet, he still wasn't listening.

"Ben, please. I can tell that you're actually falling for her but honestly, where do you even see this going? Do you actually believe that you're going to get married and have kids or something like that?"

"Gwen, I'm just sixteen, it's way too soon to be worrying about something like that!"

"So, you're just going to date her until it becomes a problem?"

Ben rolled his eyes, standing from the table, "How about you mind your own business and keep your nose out of my relationship. I don't have to sit here and convince you of anything."

Kevin watched him walk away before letting out a low whistle, ignoring his girlfriend's glare, "I told you that was a bad idea."

***

Ben kept a single hand on the wheel as he drove the two of you over the museum, where you were supposed to meet Gwen and Kevin for a mission. You had long stopped reprimanding him for not driving with both hands since he began throwing tantrums and claiming he couldn't focus if your fingers weren't intertwined with his free one.

The roads were empty at this time of night anyway.

"Hey, did Gwen talk to you about anything? Me, specifically?" Ben brought up and you immediately picked up on the slight squeeze of his hand in yours but didn't comment on it.

"Not lately, no. Is something wrong?"

Ben let out a relieved sigh, "Nope, nothing at all."

You raised a brow at this, staring at him with suspicious eyes. He eventually caught on to your prying gaze and immediately attempted to change the topic, pretending like you didn't notice his futile attempts to do so.

"That's a pretty necklace, where'd you get it?"

You rolled your eyes, watching as a cheeky grin grew on his face at your response. He was not hiding his giddiness very well, but how could he? You, his beautiful girlfriend, whom his cousin said was a monotonous emotionless dead-end (she didn't actually say this, but Ben was offended all the same), was wearing the necklace that he had gifted her.

It was fairly simple, a thin chain with a small pendant with a gemstone. He knew you wouldn't wear something that was flashy or too gaudy, so he settled for something he knew you'd like.

And the sight of you wearing the necklace even though you usually insisted that any accessories that weren't a part of the uniform could sometimes hinder the mission was completely worth the hours of time spent staring at different necklaces that all looked the same and troubling his mother for advice until she hurled a wet sponge at his head.

***

When he was responding to the distress signal on his Omnitrix at the museum, Ben wasn't expecting to get attacked by a bunch of ninja that seemed to appear out of nowhere before disappearing into thin air.

You stared at the green tablet in the crate as you wondered just where you had seen the artifact before.

"It's the Hands of Armageddon." You explained, going through your database quickly to pull up all the information the plumbers had on it, "It's an artifact that was secured by the plumbers more than 2 centuries ago. It's said to be a crosstime gateway created by the Chronians, but we have yet to prove that. It's virtually indestructible though. The Plumbers have had multiple attempts and they all resulted in mass disasters."

You turned to Gwen, "The vision you saw was probably an alternate dimension—"

"Right as always, young (Y/N)."

Before the flash of light behind you could even disappear, you were pointing a gun at it, only lowering it when you saw Paradox emerge through the blinding light, accompanied by someone you'd never met before and yet, still recognized.

"Who's your friend?"

Ben stared at him with apprehension before realization struck him, "Are you?"

The man responded with a startlingly deep voice, "That's right, Ben, I'm you—only even more awesome."

You were hardly surprised, the man before you was a splitting image of your boyfriend and you averted your gaze to hide the oncoming heat to your cheeks at the sight of his beard and his stronger build. He certainly grew up nicely.

Ben 10k and Professor Paradox didn't waste any time and began to explain just what problems the group of you had somehow managed to get stuck in once again. As the four of you heard their explanations, you heard a slight sound coming from the back of the museum.

"Shh."

Ben 10k raised a brow at you, opening his mouth to say something when you shushed him again, with a fierce glare this time. It was only a second more before you were swerving around to point your gun at another intruder, a woman this time, who was pointing her own gun at you.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, faced with an older version of yourself.

She looked like you, that much was obvious, but she was also different, much more womanly than you were, with more rounded curves and a more matured face.

Recognizing her younger self, the you from the future lowered her own gun and placed it back into her holster, taking a look around the room and registering just how many faces were there.

"What the hell is she doing here?!"

She raised a brow at him, lips pursed in annoyance, "Excuse me?"

Paradox sighed, "I apologize for this, Ben, but this involves her future as well."

He gritted his teeth in fury, rolling his eyes, "That's just great."

You spared a glance at your boyfriend, whose face had fallen so far it looked like he had just had his heart broken.

Gwen sighed, whispering something that had only been audible, to him and you watched as his face fell deeper, "I tried to warn you, Ben."

***

Professor Paradox was one of the most infuriating people in the entire universe. You had gathered as much since the first time you had the displeasure of meeting him, but he seemed intent on reminding you exactly why you disliked him.

He spoke in riddles, appeared and disappeared as he pleased, never made any sense but expected everyone to listen to him with no explanation whatsoever.

And so, it didn't help your opinion of him when the cargo hull of the jet began rumbling, signalling intruders, that he was all too quick to disappear without bothering to help fight them.

You cursed out his mother in your head as he vanished within a flash of light, pocket-watch in hand and a quippy remark on his lips.

The ninjas began appearing out of nowhere and despite there being the five of you, you were confined to a small space, and they multiplied like pests until the whole hull was full of them. It obviously didn't help that Ben 10k chose then to transform into humungousaur, taking up the remaining of what little space you had.

You didn't even have enough time to come up with a good strategy before you were being attacked with multiple opponents at the same time. It didn't take much to disarm one of them, now using their own swords to attack them.

There were too many and they just kept appearing. Your eyes bounced around the room, trying to figure out how to get the upper hand in such a cramped space.

Your older self, having the same idea, sprinted across the room, disarming as many soldiers around her as she could. Although, there was something odd about the way she moved.

She was at the same strength level as you were. After 20 years, shouldn't she be more adept than you were? Ben was capable of using his arsenal of powers without even transforming into any aliens, but she didn't display any remarkable feat of strength.

It was almost as though she wasn't able to. An injury perhaps? Maybe she was still recovering? You bit your lip, slashing the sword through another ninja. If you could find out what caused it, maybe you could prevent it from happening to you.

"Stay out of this, (Y/N)!" Ben 10k snarled, voice booming through the room and causing slight vibrations in the metal due to his size.

You paused for a second, sharing a glance with your boyfriend, who seemed equally surprised. Your future self, unbothered, continued to stampede through the other opponents until she reached the switch to the hangar and flipped it open.

Immediately the hangar opened, and you braced yourself, holding onto Ben's car that had been strapped down. Ben had the same idea, holding onto the handles and pressing his front against your back, making sure you were both anchored down.

The ninjas flew out of the jet, the vacuum of wind deeming too much for them and you watched them disappear, one by one, as they capsized through the air before the hangar door finally closed again.

"What the hell were you thinking?! That was so incredibly reckless—"

"Stop talking to her like that!" Your Ben interrupted his future self, wedging himself in between your future counterparts and glaring at him, "You're acting like an ass instead of apologizing! If I were you, I'd be on my knees begging for her to take me back!"

"Take me back? What are you—We're not broken up!"

Ben's eyes widened at this before he turned to your future self, "And you'd stay with someone who'd treat you like that?"

The woman in question sighed, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder, "Try not to be too upset, Ben. He's not usually like this. He's just mad—"

"I'm not mad at (Y/N)." Ben 10k argued, crossing his arms and everyone raised a brow, they clearly didn't believe him. Your future self merely gave him a blank stare before he caved.

"Alright fine, I'm mad at you." Hardly a surprise, "Need I remind you that we just left our son all alone at our home that was just attacked by a bunch of ninjas?"

Ben's jaw dropped open hearing that. Our son? He had a son? With the love of his life no less? This whole time he thought that there was nothing but disappointment and heartbreak for your future together but now he's finding out that he had a family with the girl he was in love with?

Funny that it was only this morning he was claiming that he was too young to be thinking of such things and yet, the thought had his heart swelling.

"I checked on him before we left, no one even made it to the hallway outside his room. Besides, when we go back, we'll be taken to the exact moment we left, not even a fraction of a second later. Kenny will be fine."

"It would be nice if you could show some concern at least." He huffed, "You're not even worried about the fact that we just left our newborn alone. All you're thinking about is this mission and you're putting yourself at risk."

Future you rolled her eyes, sighing as she took a seat on ship, "Here we go again."

"Oh, forgive me for worrying about my wife. Where do I get the audacity?" Her husband shot a glare at her.

Gwen's eyes flitted between the two of them, only able to see the similarities between their relationship in the future and also in the present. Her cousin apparently got married and started a family with the girl she didn't think was good enough for him.

Would Ben still not be able to see what a mistake he's making, even after a decade? Or was she the one who wasn't able to see clearly?

"(Y/N), you just gave birth five weeks ago and you haven't fully recovered. You're supposed to be taking it easy, not fighting some crazed time traveller. "

No wonder she was moving at a slower rate than usual, she was still in her post-partum recovery. For a woman who just spent the last 10 months of her life growing and then providing for a living, breathing human, she fought impressively well. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"Firstly, I can take care of myself. Secondly, Paradox didn't ask before zapping us back here."

"Fair enough but I want you to be on the sidelines for the remainder of the mission unless absolutely necessary." He folded his arms, giving a firm stare that meant he was being resolute. Your future self held his stare for a second before coming to the realization that not much would deter him.

She sighed, "Fine."

A pleased smile made its way to his face as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, "Excellent."

"You're a lot of work, Tennyson."

"Right back at you, Tennyson."

You spared a glance at your boyfriend, choosing to keep the information that you found his impish grin at the thought of a future with you adorable a secret and instead asked, "Did you really think that we had broken up in the future?"

His brows went toward his hairline, "You didn't? They were practically at each other's throats the whole time."

"Firstly, they're each wearing wedding rings, and second," You walked over to your future self, reaching for her collar and pulling out a familiar chain from underneath her shirt, "I saw this the second she got here."

Ben blushed, "You still wear it? It looks a little different though."

"I replaced the gem." She explained, toying with the pendant.

"Why?"

"It's her son's birthstone." "It's my son's birthstone." Both (Y/N)'s said in unison and the others gave you a bewildered stare.

"How'd you know?"

You shrugged, "Because that's something I would do."

***

Once again, you were all left in the middle of the desert at night after Paradox abandoned you one again and you continued your line of curses about his entire family in your head as you trudged back to the jet to call a team of plumbers to get you home as well as begin repairs to the jet that was damaged in the fight.

Kevin followed you closely to try and see if there was any way he could repair it just enough to get you back to Bellwood. Ben was about to enter as well when he was stopped by his cousin, who seemed sheepish enough that he immediately knew what the conversation was going to be about.

"I owe you an apology, Ben. I'm sorry for not trusting your judgment and for thinking the worst of you and (Y/N). You both make a cute couple."

He nodded, "It's okay, I didn't exactly have faith in my own relationship when I immediately concluded that they had broken up."

"I'm sure the conversation we had this morning didn't help either, don't feel too bad about it."

He nodded once again and they dissolved back into silence before she gave him a teasing smile, "So, a son, huh?"

His cheeks went warm, and he gave her a look mixed with both embarrassment and a little bit of pride, scratching the back of his neck with a meek chuckle, "Yeah, I always pictured myself as a girl dad though."

Her grin went even wider, and she laughed, "I thought you said you were too young to think about things like this?!"

***

*Exactly Twenty Years Later*

Ben peeked his head into the nursery to greet his beautiful son that was most likely asleep after being fed and changed, only to find the room empty and crib missing.

His mind knew that if his son wasn't in his crib then he would obviously be in the arms of his mother and yet, as he sped to your shared bedroom, he felt a slight panic thrum through his veins.

Everyone had brought this to his attention time and time again; that he had become extremely high-strung when it came to his family. Especially since you had gotten pregnant. It was only when his son was on the way did he realize just how fragile everything was and how quickly it could be ripped away from him.

He passed his arm over the sensor at your door, it immediately recognizing the signal from his Omnitrix and unlocking the door before entering, finding you settled on your bed, Kenny clutched close to your heart.

You watched him cross the bedroom in long strides and settle on the mattress beside you, saying nothing about the clear distress that you had seen on his face when the door opened before it was flooded with relief. You understood; you had felt the same way, which is why you had rolled your son's crib into your bedroom so you could keep a close eye on him for the rest of the night.

You turned your gaze back to the baby in your arms, gently tracing his features with the tip of your pinkie finger, watching with a deep fondness and adoration as Kenny's little face would scrunch up every time you caressed his button nose.

"He's okay, right?" Your husband questioned, needing your reassurance for the last bit of worry for his son to evaporate.

"You think I'd be sitting here without a care in the world if he wasn't?" You murmured, not lifting your eyes from his precious face.

Ben chuckled at this, "Yeah, like that time he got the hiccups, and you couldn't sleep the entire night because you kept checking on him in four-minute intervals?"

"What if his little diaphragm got fatigued?" You mumbled; brows furrowed at the thought. Constant hiccups were painful to deal with as an adult, you could only imagine how painful it would be for a baby who didn’t know what the pain was or how to communicate his pain to his parents.

Ben didn’t respond, already having been through this conversation with you the very night it happened.

The two of you continued to watch your son in silence, finding every single little breath he took interesting as you continued to graze your finger over his skin, now tracing the outline of his little lips, the bottom lip tucked tightly into his mouth as he slept.

Ben shifted closer to you, taking the two of you in his arms and pressing a kiss to the side of your head as one of his arms came to support yours and bear the weight of your son as well.

"I'm sorry for saying that you didn't care about Kenny and only the mission. I know you worry about him more than you express, and I appreciate everything you do for the both of us."

"You were just lashing out of worry." You replied, leaning against him, "It was the first time we both left our home without him, even though we didn't technically leave him alone for a second. I felt uneasy about it as well."

"Regardless, I shouldn't have said that you didn't care, Kenny and I know you love us."

"I do."

You quietened down immediately when your son took a big breath, slightly stirring before he fell back asleep, the littlest smile on his little face.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

[xfancyuu]

~ a different kind of spicy, cheongyang chilli pepper vibe. [rhaenyra targaryen] 18+ SMUT

happy pride! i hope my lgbt+ people are enjoying themselves this month, i know i am! alt title could be if you wanna know how i can show you right now, anyways stan ateez, stream the world ep 2 and fuck your gf. reader is afab with she/her pronouns. my requests are OPEN please send away! i'd assume this takes place somewhere during rhaenyra's marriage to laenor. [1,555 words]

i am in NO way responsible in your fanfic consumption MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! i don't even know where to begin with the tags on this fic, lesbian sex, dom/sub dynamic, overstimulation, talks about wanting children, dirty talk, daemon reference and i think(?) it's positive. lmk if i missed any.

Spending your nights with Rhaenyra had given you solace you never knew you needed. From the feeling of her soft skin pressing against yours while the two of you slept, from the comforting presence she had provided you continuously. You knew your love for each other could never be shared publicly and it often times made you sad but when the two of you were together alone it made up for all the secrecy.

Nobody had bothered to question why you shared Rhaenyra's bed more than her own husband, but you were her lady in waiting, you were the person she was closest to and if Laenor was happy nobody could say anything against the arrangement.

It had been an unusually warm spring night, the sun had trouble setting at a decent time and you had almost stripped down to your undergarments in the garden. It was just too hot, you didn't know if being in Rhaenyra's presence made you feral or the heat was truly getting to you. So much so you had stripped yourself of all clothing while Rhaenyra waited in bed for you.

She, too, had chosen to sleep naked, claiming the heat was also too much to bare — you knew the truth, though. Rhaenyra had a dragon, the weather wasn't the cause of her nakedness.

Your night had been mostly uneventful, the two of you had laid in bed, Rhaenyra reading to you while your head was in her lap, the closeness you felt to her was much different than anything else you'd ever felt, the two of you often read in this position though you'd never felt the softness of her thighs in such a position before. You didn't know what possessed you to kiss the tops of her thighs but she never complained, her breathing getting heavier as you continued to do so, though you had promptly stopped when she had closed the book.

"We need to sleep, Y/N." Rhaenyra spoke, playing with your hair after placing the book on the bedside table.

"I think you may be right, Nyra." Came your response, your head moving from her lap and choosing to place a kiss on her lips, the kiss remained chase with Rhaenyra's hands placing themselves on your hips as to make sure you didn't lose balance.

She was the first one to pull away, and while it took you a second to compose yourself, you laid on the left side of the bed, choosing to forgo covering yourself, the heat was far too unbearable for you even with the moon blessing you with its presence.

Despite the heat it didn't stop you from cudding into Helaena, your head was placed on her chest and while she too complained about the heat, she didn't complain about your current position.

Your dream had been so vivid, choosing to show you images of yourself and Rhaenyra in various positions and committing various acts you doubt her real life counterpart would ever allow you to put her in.

Perhaps you could bring yourself to your peak rather quickly, the fear of waking Rhaenyra was within your mind but the way your fingers were playing with your bud felt too good, you wanted to prolong it. As long as you didn't stick your fingers within yourself, Rhaenyra had claimed your cunt as her own, not allowing even yourself to place your own fingers in there. She was possessive over you, wanting to give you as much pleasure as you could take and even more. You often left her room on a morning feeling as though you were on cloud nine though having to ignore the overstimulation, she did make it hard for you.

You were being loud, moaning, moving around the bed, trying to bed as quiet as you possibly could yet that didn't help you, Rhaenyra had woke up, not happy in the slightest. Disturbing her sleep was one thing but touching yourself had truly flipped something within her, she was on top of you within seconds, removing your hand away — almost instantly killing your impending orgasm.

"Who gave you permission to touch yourself?" It was rhetorical, Rhaneyra very rarely allowed you to answer back to her, "I swore you promised you were mine, body and soul, yet you think you have the right to touch your body?"

You didn't respond as Nyra had opened your legs further to gain access to your already wet cunt. You could tell she wasn't happy. She was the one who would do this to you, the one to turn you on and make sure you were satisfied.

"You've done this to yourself?" She asked, her fingers entering you without much resistance, the wetness you'd caused leaking out of yourself while her fingers continued to enter you.

"Only thought about you." You responded, legs opening wider, feeling her so deep within you almost had you reaching for your bud once more but stopped when you saw the look on Rhaenyra's face.

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" She asked, increasing the speed of her fingers,

"I only ever think about you" you reiterate, though the words had come out breathy, the feeling of Rhaenyra's fingers within you had started to build up your previously killed orgasm. Rhaenyra knew you were sensitive but she hadn't realised you were this sensitive, being able to cum in few seconds after she'd entered you.

"That's it baby, cum all over your queen's fingers, be a loyal subject, give me what I want." Her words had tipped you over the edge, the orgasm you so badly wanted had been given to you though Rhaenyra hadn't stopped her movements while your thighs shook and tried to close on her hand though with her own leg being between them it was almost impossible.

"Nyra, please." Your words were cut off by Rhaenyra kissing you, it wasn't soft nor chaste, it was with hunger and purpose, brutal even. She hadn't stopped, though her lips found their way to your neck, leaving marks as she went along.

"You want another one? So insatiable, you'd think i've left you untouched for months." Despite your begging she had chosen to interpret you wrong. Rhaenyra got like this sometimes, and most times it left you unable to walk or to fulfil your duties properly. "You can give me another one, can't you?"

"Want to, so badly." Telling Rhaenyra no would have been fruitless — you also enjoyed when she was like this, giving you everything you wanted and then more.

"Tell me what you want."

"Want you to stay inside me so badly, wish you had a cock so you could put a baby in me." You were babbling now, though it was true, you wanted to be filled with Rhaenya's heirs, to give her a life that was expected of her.

"We could make that happen, have you fuck Daemon so he can give you Targaryen babies."

"No, no, no, no, no," you repeated like a mantra as she continued her brutal pace within you, "only want you, I'm only yours."

Rhaenyra had taken your whining as a sign you needed more, her thumb had begun to play with your enlarged bud and it had made you cry out, moving your hips to meet her hand easier.

The two of you continued, Rhaenyra whispering filthy things in your ear, about how you were her perfect girl, about how she'd get Daemon to fuck you next, about how you'd be perfect with your and her child and it was enough to make you to come undone a second time. The intensity of this one hitting you harder than the last.

"I can't do another one Nyra." You choked out, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down to kiss you once more, this was sweeter than the last, portraying nothing but love and tenderness rather than the lust filled ones you'd shared before.

She pulled away, both from inside you and away from your kiss, making you pout. "I think I want to see you pregnant, you've seen me pregnant with three children yet here you are without a child."

"Jace, Luc and Joffrey are my children too." You insisted, "But if you want me to birth a child myself, you have to find the man and I won't fuck anyone without your permission, you can even tell me what to do." You joked, your own husband had not so tragically passed moons into your marriage. An old disgusting man who only wanted you for your body and the children you could have provided him with, ironically he lived as he died, fucking you from behind — you wouldn't admit it to anyone but the sight of him on the floor was hilarious. Despite this you'd played the mournful wife, crying at the correct things, wearing all black. Though nothing could stop you from entering Rhaenyra's chamber and truly letting the one you love have you.

"We should seek a man worthy to give us a child." You knew who Rhaenyra wanted, you yourself wouldn't be too opposed to him either, especially if Rhaenyra was there. "But right now, I'm not done with you just yet, you won't be leaving this bed for at least three days." your exhausted state couldn't wait, she made you tingle in all the right ways and you'd happily provide her with as many orgasms as you could provide, even if it destroyed you.

i hope you enjoyed this! i've never wrote nyra before and i'm obviously team green but i love her and i believe in gay rights/wrongs and she fits the bill. sorry if this is bad it's the first time i've written sapphic smut.

[imaslutforcuddles]

DUMB DUMB

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM!READER

Summary: Your a cheerleader at Hawkins high, Jason trusts you exclusively. Well mainly because your his childhood bestfriend. Yet there is something that no one In the squads know. Your a fantasy lover, and hellfire Is the best fucking thing you’ve ever joined. After being tired of Jason’s bullshit, you decide to mess everything up between the two of you. Best thing yet, he never even saw it coming.

Warnings: Swearing, substance use, smoking, angst (jason), bullying, fighting, loss of virginity, SMUT, p in v, oral (f receiving), squirting, unsafe sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), little bit of Dom Eddie :), praise, subby reader, good girl and shit like that, a lot of orgasming lmfao, overstimulation, Eddie is big.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: OMFG ITS FINALLY DONE. BTW people HAVE SEX IN THIS SO MINORS BE AWARE!!!!!! I’m not in-charge of your media consumption so i can’t make you click off. I WILL BLOCK YOU THOUGH- The title is a song that i found from a movie called Do Revenge (maya hawke acts in it). I fucking love It, def recommend. HERE Is the Spotify official playlist for it, also recommend listening to while reading this. A smut fic bc eddie deserves some pussy.

You reach into your bag grabbing a twenty, “Is it going to be more expensive because I’m friends with Carver?” Eddie chuckles grabbing the cash and hands you a bag of pre-rolls, “Nah, you get a member discount.” You pause looking down, “Well damn.” Eddie raises his brows, “I guess i can’t leave hellfire then.” The both of you start laughing uncontrollably.

You wipe a stray tear off your face while you both get up from the bench you were sitting on. Sighing, Eddie comes closer to you, “Why are you even friends with him?”

“Because I’m going to make him hurt, like he hurt you.”

Eddie widened his eyes and huffed, “Jesus. h. christ.” He cleared his throat and looked away, trying to hide the growing blush on his cheeks. Smiling, you grabbed your bag. “Hey Eds i think we should head back, I don’t want to miss out of the worst fucking school lunch i’ve ever eaten in my life (we can all agree school lunches are vile).” He frowned, but then grinned not wanting to seem too vulnerable. 

“Yep.”

-

Eddie picked through his lunch as always, head in his hand. 

“Hey Eddie are you okay?” Dustin frowned as Eddie raised his head and grinned. “I’m just fine Henderson.” Mike and Lucas looked at each-other sharing a knowing look, “Are you sure Eddie because you kinda look like shit,” Dustin continued. Eddie glared at him, “What did you just say?” Dustin widened his eyes and looked away gulping, “I j-just mean you look a bit tired that’s all!” Eddie shook his head scoffing, “Yeah okay Henderson.”

He looked around and caught your eyes. You winked and smiled at him as he looked away embarrassed. 

“Hey peach who are you looking at?” You winced at the cringe pet name and your grin became a thin line as you realized who had started talking to you, “No one Carver.” He stared down at you for a minute waiting for a different answer before it turned into a glare, “I fucking saw you wink at him.” He huffed. You kissed your teeth and sighed, “Who are you talking about jason?” 

He scoffed, “You fucking know who the fuck I’m talking about Y/n.” Rolling your eyes you turned to meet his, “I actually don’t Jason that’s why I asked.” He tensed up realising you weren’t going to confess. “You were looking at the fucking freak!” He whisper-shouted. Pressing a hand to your temple you sighed, “He’s not a freak Jason.” 

“Oh-ho yes the fuck he is! Why are you defending him?” He fought. “You know what jason?” Pausing you huffed out air you didn’t know you had held in. “The only freak here is you.” You looked everywhere but at his face as he frowned.

As you started to walk off, you turned your head hearing one word fall out of his mouth, “Whore.” You widened your eyes and shook your head. “NOW I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST FUCKING CALL ME A WHORE JASON CARVER!” If looks could kill, he would be dead on the cold and dirty cafetera floor. His tense figure softened a bit as he started to cower at all the eyes laid on the two of you, “I’m sorry Y/n.” Scoffing at his lame apology you waved your hand and walked off, “Yeah you fucking should be. God you disgust me.”

-

Being in that school was so suffocating that the second you walked out your breath returned to your body, and you could finally breathe.

You dropped your head and closed your eyes. How could he have called you that? He was far from the truth, you were a virgin. You normally don’t take any sort of offense to being called slutty or anything like that, but Jason wasn’t the type you would pin for slut shaming. Or so you thought. And you couldn’t stop the naging words in the back of your mind.

Jason Carver isn’t a good person. He deserves to pay.

-

“The hooded cultists chant, hail Lord Vecna.” You scoff and look over at mike. ‘tf is this dumbass saying?’ You mouth, mike grins at your comment and shakes his head with you. “Hail Lord Vecna. They turn to you,” His eyes jolt to you and you freeze, ‘God damnit i can’t fucking die first again, Hegla is too precious to me.’ You cry to yourself. “Remove their hoods, you recognise most of them from makbar. There is one you do not recognise, his skin shriveled,” He turns his focus onto jeff and your breath steadys a little as Erica gulps next to you. “Desiccated, and something else. He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!”

Your face drops and you look to your right, “WHAT!” you shout with dustin. You have already lost so much to Vecna, and you thought he was killed by kas!

You lift your hands up to your face and start fake crying. though you believe you might actually start to cry, “Venca is DEAD.” “He was killed by kas!” Mike agrees. You rub your temple in defeat, “So it was thought my friends, so it was thought. BUT VECNA LIVES.”

You gasp again and drop your body weight into your chair, “We’re fuckin dead, doomed, through. Pack it up people!” 

Eddie chuckles and continues on while others groan and huff.

-

“You are scared, your tired, you are injured. Do you flee Venca and his cultists?” You grip your chair fuming and hopped up on caffeine and adrenaline, “Or do you stay and fight.” 

-

You all sit in silence for a while, even Eddie gets impatient. “Come on,”

You think deeply about the consequence of running away, ‘you’d be a coward. but, you’d live.’

Dustin holds his hand up, debating a wise choice. “I say we fight;” You look over at him and nod a little, “To the death.” You nod and smile throwing down your pencil, “To the death!” Mike and Erica agree and soon everyone has joined in chanting. Eddie starts laughing and lays back in his throne as you all slam your hands on the table shouting, Dustin leans back while yelling “TO THE DEATH!”

-

Erica rolls her D8 and D10 while you all lean closer in anticipation; soon your all shout “YES!” and grinning at the roll. 

Mike rolls his D20 and you all hiss and yell in agony when he fails.

Jeff’s turn ends up with Eddie smacking his character off the board.

-

Win to loss to loss again and again, and again as Eddie laughs maniacally at you all.

-

A timeout is called and as you huddle up gareth says, “Guys i hate to say this but we have got to flee.” Jeff nods and another says, “I concur.” (His name isn’t specified anywhere he literally is just called ‘freak’) 

Erica shakes her head, “Didn’t we literally just say ‘to the death’?” “That wasn’t literal!”

Jeff continues, “Vecna just decimated us, we can’t kill him with three players!” (we’re going to pretend your precious Helga survived) Dustin scoffs, “You too?! He only has 15hp left, don’t be pussies-!” Gareth makes a face, “Pussies, Really? Cause were not delusional?” He whisper yells. You slap a hand to your face to try and stop a laugh, “Gareth i swear to god-” “Delusional? How about not cowards.” 

“Hey.” Eddie shouts, “If i may interject gentlemen, ‘Lady applejack/Knight Hegla’. whilst i respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running.. Don’t try to be heros, not today. Kay?” His grin widens. You look from Erica to Dustin as he raises a finger, “One second.” Back to your huddle, “What do you think mike?” “How many hp do you guys have left?” He asks, “Twelve.” You three say in unison, “It’s risky as hell, but your the ones on the battlefield. So it’s your call.” You try not to smile as Gareth's face contorts the hole time mike talks.

Dustin inhails, “What do you say girls?” Erica looks from you to Dustin, “Do you really gotta ask?” Dustin then looks at you, you smile and raise a brow. “Do you think i look like a bitch to back down from an ass whoopin?” Dustin takes a second, “Screw it.”

“Lets kill this son of a bitch.”

Jeff huffs and you all get closer to the table, “Chances of success are twenty to one!” Dustin points a finger, “Never tell me the odds.”

“Give me the D20.”

Eddie smirks and tosses him the dice.

Your all huddled around the table and Dustin as he rolls, eleven. You groan as Eddie waves his head up and down, “That’s a MISS.” You all hiss as you barely miss, it’s all up to Erica.

All eyes are on Erica as she rolls the D20, Gareth crying, Dustin shouting, You slamming your fist into your palm. Eddie leans closer to the dice, twenty! Your all shouting in victory. Eddie was yipping and jerking, his hands clapping while he smiled in surprise and also he’s just a proud DM.

-

You decided to stay back with Eddie to help clean the room after the campaign was over and everyone else went home. Eddie came over to you and grinned, “Helga’s still alive ay, you should be proud.” Your mouth hung open and your eyes widened as you punched his arm, “You fucker! It’s not my fault you love to kill us all off like daisies.” It’s true, this is the first campaign you’ve survived. You’ve been in hellfire just over three months. 

Eddie chuckled and nudged your shoulder, “I know i’m proud.”

You stopped picking up pieces and dice looking over at Eddie, blushing when you realise just how close he was to you. “You mean it?” He smiled stepping closer, “Of course, Its difficult to survive such..” Eddie started leaning in, to the point you could feel his hot breath against your face, “Difficult campaigns.” Your breath hitched when his lips almost touched, “Eddie?” You felt something warming up in your stomach, “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

His eyes widened as you put your lips on his. His lips felt so right connected to yours and you felt a moan building up as he deepened the kiss. Eddie groaned into you as you pressed your body up against his, “God your so beautiful,” you smiled, “I bet i’d look prettier naked on top of you.” 

He froze, “Are you okay Eds?” “Never been better.”

-

So here you are in his bed with butterfly sheets that he never bothered to get rid of, naked. 

Eddie kissed you on the lips savoring you, “Can i taste you baby? You look so good.” You moaned and nodded, “Please Eddie.” 

“Please what? I want to hear you beg.” 

You clenched your thighs together, “Please eat my pussy Eddie.” He grinned, “Of course, how could i refuse my good girl? Your going to be my good girl aren’t you?” He looked into your eyes sending shivers down your spine, “Of course Eds!” You nod your head, eager to be touched. He chuckles at your obedience and starts slowly kissing down your body, his touch like fire against your skin. It felt too good to be true. The boy that you’ve liked for years, is going to eat you out? You whined as his lips teased your thighs, he kissed everywhere but where you need the most. “Please Eddie.” He looked up at you from in-between your legs and you melted, this fine-ass man was willing to fuck you. Your whines soon turned into moans as he began to kiss and suck your clit. 

You slid your hands into his thick curls and arched your back, “Oh yes! Please!” You almost screamed and he dipped his tongue into your wet cunt, “Fuck Eddie!” He hums into your cunt, “Your pussy is fucking heaven baby.” The flick of his tongue driving you insane and the was his thumb rubs your clit makes you orgasm quicker than you’ve ever cum before. Legs shaking and eyes rolled back you squeal as he continues to eat your cunt like a dessert, “E-Eddie too mu-” He shuts you up with his two fingers sliding into your wet hole. 

Moans are the only noise you make, Eddie smiles into your cunt and keeps sucking and kissing your clit. You cry out and start clenching hard on his fingers, “Are you gonna cum for me again baby?” You can only answer with a whine. He laughs at your answer and starts pumping his fingers faster, hitting your sweet-spot every time. 

Your second orgasm wasn’t the same as the first, when you snapped a liquid starting spilling out of you in heaps. You hadn’t realised just what made Eddie so surprised and wet. “What?” You whine out, he doesn’t say anything for a solid five seconds and then he pounces on you, attacking your lips. “Please let me fuck you, f-fuck i don’t think my cock could take not fucking your pretty little pussy.” You widen your eyes and nod vigorously which makes Eddie smile, “Your so needy for my cock aren’t you?” You shake your head again, “Say it baby. Be my good girl and say you want my cock inside you.”

“Please put your cock inside my pussy Eddie. Oh please!” He groans at your eagerness to be spread open by him.

He starts to pull his cock out of his boxers and you almost cum on the spot, his dick was HUGE. Like pornstar big, at-least nine inches. His smile becomes wider when he notices your reaction, “Is it too big for you baby?” You frown and shake your head no, “N-no way! I can take it.”

“Good.”

Eddie rubs his tip on your clit and you squirm a little, but Eddie grabs your hips. “Be a good girl and stay still.”

When Eddie first pushes into you it burns, you hiss and he pulls you into him rubbing your back. “Are you okay baby?” He looks into your eyes trying to search for something, “I’m okay Eddie, just keep going. Don’t stop.” After the first couple thrusts it becomes completely crumbing, you feel like you could melt away into nothing. The way the Eddie whispers, “Taking my cock like such a good girl.”

He spreads your legs open wider and you moan loud into his ear, “Oh such a good girl, keep moaning. Let me know just how good i’m making you feel.”

You start getting closer with every thrust into your sopping cunt, and he can feel it. He starts to pound you faster and you scream, “That’s it, cum for me.” You shake and squirt all over his chest and dick, he groans and your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Can i cum inside you baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, “Please give me your cum, i need it!” 

He cums with a loud grunt and lays beside you, “I think i might love you.”

[onskepa]

Na'vi mating with humans headcanons [Poly].

Hello everyone, so I must confess, I have been looking at some Avatar [NOT THE LAST AIRBENDER] 1 and 2 "the way of water" stuff. From fics, to fanart, headcanons, all that good stuff. So here I am reading all this amazing stuff and I thought, "why not put my 2 cents in it?" so while I dont have any fics, I thought I share some headcanons of my own.

Most I have noticed is using either Na'vi reader, or Human reader. And/or both if the author has their person of interesting be an avatar, being in a poly relationship with our two lovely couples: Jake & Neytiri, and/or Tonorwari & Ronal.

And, if it is not a poly relationship, it be a normal two person relationship, that being with either [Tsu-tey, Ronal, Tonowar, Jake, Neytiri, Norm, etc]. Reading all those stories I have begun to list a few things.

In this first headcanon, its going to be as the title suggest, Na'vi with human. If you guy's wish to use some of this stuff as inspiration or ideas for your future fic's, I am cool with it, but please credit me. Anywho, lets start.

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

Olo'eyktan & Tsahik

(btw this is for any Na'vi tribe in general not just for Tonowari and Ronal)

I feel as the two top leaders of the tribe, having a human as their third mate can mean many things.

Such as: Having a human for a mate shows their rank of status in the tribe. If being leaders weren't enough.

After a long day of doing their duties, they go home happy knowing their little mate is waiting for them to relieve their stress. In more ways than one. {use your imagination I aint going that deep]

Having a human mate will influence how they view the world. The Na'vi seeing their world as its ecosystem as normal as it can get, while the humans see it so different and something so beautiful. The humans may see the same thing every single day but sees it as it was something new to them over and over.

Have a change of paste in life. Talking and sharing things with their human mate is something the leaders look forward to at the end of the day.

The leaders being excited or happy with their human mate wants to know more of something or ask them questions. The leaders seeing it as a sign they their mate relies on them for information.

Speaking of, they enjoy it when their human mate searches for them, having their small eyes only on the leaders and no one else. They can get very protective and if not, a bit possessive should another Na'vi get too comfy with their human mate.

would hiss or give the other Na'vi a warning before shooing them away. Might get a scolding from their human mate but will shrug it off and lead their little human somewhere else.

Should the Tsahik get pregnant, the Olo'eyktan wouldn't be as stressed or worried that their Tsahik is in a vulnerable state. Having their human mate near the Tsahik calms the Olo'eyktan a bit. Since the Tsahik wont be alone.

And if the human is trained in the ways of healing, then the human mate would help the Tsahik if she were to feel morning sickness or dizziness. Giving the Tsahik comfort and a sense of peace.

Assist the Tsahik in duties in which she cannot anymore due to her belly growing. Things that require bending down, gathering plants, and herbs, grinding them, or anything that require lots of energy.

Once the newborn Na'vi is born, automatically, the human mate will be their second parent. Cherishing and nurturing the new born.

when the Tsahik is busing once again with her duties. The human mate will make sure the baby has their needs met, make sure they are clean, fed, and overall comfy with, hopefully, little crying as possible.

Having soft skin brings great benefit for Na'vi baby as they will cling more so the softer and warmer texture. Showing big trust and love to their third parent.

As the Na'vi baby grows, they become attached to all three parents, but will secretly favor their human parent. Since they bring a type of comfort that is different from their other two parents.

Since being the child of the two leaders, they wont have much time to play with their child as much as they want to. So the human mate comes in and plays while teaching showing around the Na'vi baby. Will continue to as the baby grows.

Being a human mate/parent to the Na'vi is something refreshing and somehow brings great comfort to all. Being so small yet have a massive mind and spirit.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that is it. I might add more or change of few things. I am ok with what I put but I know I can do better. If ya'll want more or something else, I don't mind. Thank you for reading this!