#she was PERFECT. she was a nice chill woman!

[solspina]

We Should Stick Together

sanguinius ⋆˙⟡

have a very small sangy blurb that is literally just me braindumping! not proofread and a little fulgrim x reader if you squint :)

sanguinius has very clearly taken interest in someone, and fulgrim is quite tired of watching sanguinius collect offerings for his beloved rather than taking any productive action. through a little teasing and perhaps creating a lie great enough to form genuine jealousy, the phoenician can make something happen.

warnings: n/a

Fulgrim takes yet another sip of his 4th glass of wine, holding back a pout as he draws the glass away from his stained lips. To say he is bored - and also quite clueless - would be an understatement bordering insult. The wine he holds in his hand is absolutely delectable, a fine luxury piece from his own personal collection, smooth on the throat and incredibly enjoyable when not paired with second-hand embarrassment. He sighs as he notices his supply is dwindling rapidly, not feeling even the slightest bit drunk.

Throne, he should have brought something stronger.

"What do you think of these?" His white-winged brother shoved two sparkling stones into his hand, smiling like a childish idiot as he did so.

"They are.. nice..." Fulgrim claimed as he inspected them closely, attempting to hide his annoyance as he swept over the gems with violet eyes. "However, this one seems brittle, like it will crumble the moment it is grinded upon, and this one seems quite lackluster." His voice did not hide his disinterest in the subject, but he was at least honest.

"And what about the color? Do you think she will prefer quartz? Or perhaps red? Ah, but red makes it seem like it's about me..."

"Sanguinius..." Fulgrim whispered, trying to interrupt his brother, or at the very least return him to his senses before he went on yet another incoherent ramble about his potential courtier.

"And its about her, not me. I would hate to bring home something that is to her distaste. I don't wish to put her off, I think I've done well so far acquiring her interest, I really-"

"Sanguinius!" The Phoenician finally exclaimed in more of a yell than a speaking voice, his annoyance with his brother no longer confined behind a glass of chilled wine. He released the tension from his shoulders upon seeing the blond angel's wide, shocked eyes.

Taking in the final sip of his wine, he sighed yet again. "I don't think any number of my wives have had me in as much of a chokehold as this woman does you, brother. You are smitten, and hopelessly so."

Sanguinius' wings betrayed his feeble attempt at releasing his embarrassment. They fluttered at the mention of her, and so he turned away from Fulgrim, his cheeks dusted a light pink and a small amount of his feathers puffed up upon the top of both wings. A body language display familiar of most birds, but unfamiliar to the palatine phoenix. The angel's voice shook the very slightest as he attempted to maintain his composure.

"Hopeless, Fulgrim?" He paused, his shaking irises evident of trying to collect his thoughts. "Has she told you something she has not told me?"

Was there… anger? in his tone? Maybe it was jealousy fulgrim had heard, possessiveness even, he could not tell.

Regardless, this sort of reaction from the angel was something he had not heard from his perfect and composed brother before. A piece of him felt confused at the fact that his brother had become so quickly offended in regards to a mere human, and yet another piece felt curious, entertained by the possibility of whether or not he could strike a nerve within the brightest one.

Sanguinius saw a sinister smile creep across Fulgrim's perfect features. His shoulders raised at his brother's gentle laugh. "Defensive, are we, angel? Protective, perhaps?" The phonecian placed his wine glass down upon the rocks next to the two of them, taking note of Sanguinius' clenched fists and slightly narrowed eyes. He could tell the great angel was doing his best to mask his infamous inner wrath, but he simply couldn't at the mention of some mortal woman. "Worry not, I've already told myself that you would be the one marrying this one... Should you not take too long I would not make my move."

With a step toward Sanguinius, he moved closer, brushing a few strands of blond hair behind his brother's ear so that his whisper would fall directly on his ears "That being said, clock is ticking. Drop the stones you wish to bring her, take her your words instead… lest i take her my words first.”

The sound of ruffling feathers filled the air alongside a slight expression of jealousy from Sanguinius, brows downturned and eyes slightly squinted. “I know you only tease, Fulgrim."

"And if I don't?" The Phoenician replied, his tone simultaneously teasing and serious. He wished for nothing more than to confirm his suspicion, for the angel to fall from grace and admit the painfully obvious, that he was jealous.

"You best keep your hands off. It is I who loves her. It is I who will see to it that she marries me.”

Sanguinius would be lying if he said he was not slightly afraid of Fulgrim attempting his interest’s hand in marriage.

On one hand, the poor bachelorette had a winged mutant, a man with a pair of massive wings accompanied by two sharp canines and an insatiable thirst for blood buried deep within him.

On the other was a man who was perfect in every way. Silky, smooth, gorgeous white hair cascaded over his shoulders the same way his robes fit the contours of his slender body in a noble shade of purple. His face, in every way, was nothing short of youthful and beautiful and every positive word that a human could conjure from their lips.

In other words, if Fulgrim made it to her first, Sanguinius knew he would stand no chance.

…Would he?

Would she choose the man who had experience caring for women? Or the one who she would have to teach? Did she have the patience for him?

"Say it with your chest than, oh great angel."

"I love her…”

“Hmm…” Fulgrim smiled, aware that his dear angelic brother was completely lost in thought. He knew how to hit where it hurt, for no one could turn away from Fulrgim’s perfection.

He knew Sanguinius would doubt himself, and he knew that he had to force him to confess before he lost the confidence to do so.

Of course, Sanguinius was a mutant with fatal flaws, but just like Fulgrim did his hair flow off of his shoulders and down his back, framing his chiseled face like a golden halo as piercing amber eyes shone like the sands of Baal under its suns.

Fulgrim had witnessed the girl weaving small and intricate jewels into chains that would drape themselves beautifully over Sanguinius’ wings, if the two of them had just attempted to replace their distanced pining with the intimacy they both intensely longed for.

“What she told me was that she desired you just as much… But I told her your eyes were set on someone else.” He smiled deviously at his brother, watching his expression turn into one of horror as he realized Fulgrim had probably shattered her heart into shreds with his false news. “So she and I made a deal. If you confessed to her within the week, you could have her. But if you failed to…”

The Phoenician raised one of his hands, opening his palm to a ring made in approximately the size of a tiny human finger. Sanguinius’ expression filled with anger as he fought the urge to strangle his brother right then and there. His teeth were clinched together with enough force to shatter a diamond in two.

Fulgrim's smile spread completely across his face before he turned upon his heels, flicking a head full of white hair toward Sanguinius before he broke out into a full sprint for the imperial palace. "And who is it that will tell her the news, brother?!”

With a single thunderous beat, the angel shot into the air, his speed in flight incomprehensibly faster than Fulgrim was on foot.

He smiled once more, his winged brother gone in the blink of an eye. None of what he said had been true, of course, but he too enjoyed some lighthearted teasing every once in a while. The expression upon the face of the great angel had been priceless. How could one be so jealous over someone they were stuck longing for?

He hoped that the angel would return with positive news and without the urge to slap him, and that he would still be invited to the wedding.

[commodoreshock]

y’know I genuinely like our community of tiny houses on this lot (and honestly this neighborhood in general) but this brazilian ju jitsu bozo who moved in to one of the houses a while ago is truly fucking up our vibe

[alyakthedorklord]

Omg literally it would be SO cool if you wrote the rest of the playboy bruce trying to kiss the justice league without them realizing it (I know you said figure it out but the way you wrote it was so good and funn I would love it if you gave maybe a couple of scenarios)

Lmao honestly executive dysfunction is kicking my ASS rn and it was intended as a prompt. I will try tho, definitely taking inspiration from the others who responded to the post because I love them.

If you haven’t, go check out the notes on the OG Post above! @britcision, @ivywing, and @help-i-need-a-cool-username all had amazing additions and @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego wrote a fic:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48325771

As did @scrapcheck, still in progress

And Devilhorn!

Anyways LONG post under the cut

Hal Jordan

Hal is first to prove a POINT, as @britcision decided. Also because the bastard made it waaaay too easy. Remember- Hal was Joking. He genuinely thinks Batman isn’t going to try, because he’s way too straight-laced boring.

So when he’s at a bar in Coast City, and he sees this absolutely ravishing man lounging casually against the wall, bar lighting making him practically glow (he CALCULATED that) subtle makeup making his bright blue eyes pop as he looks Hal up and down… Well. Hal makes the first move.

Hal: “All on your own, handsome?”

Bruce, with “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift playing in his head, smiling sweetly at Hal: “Care to change that?”

They start talking. Hal doesn’t recognize Bruce Wayne at ALL (canonically he does not know who Bruce Wayne is, a point brought up by @help-i-need-a-cool-username) so all he knows is Bruce is a single father who works at a company he inherited from his parents, which is just (brucie voice) “so much less interesting than a test pilot!”

Bruce, grimacing internally but wrapped around Hal’s arm with the awed and interested eyes in full effect: “you have such a nice voice, tell me more about planes…”

He KNOWS what a fuselage is, thank you, Jordan. Whatever. He gets to gush about his kids, when its his turn to talk, good enough tradeoff. He can survive Hal Jordan’s bad pick up lines and pretend he’s into them. At a certain point Bruce breaks and kisses him just to shut him up. One down.

Diana Prince

I looked it up- kissing in Ancient Greece wasn’t always considered romantic, but also a greeting between two similarly-ranked people. Therefore, I think Diana would be pretty chill with kissing and honestly an easy target at a gala if Bruce plays respectful/clumsy/earnest himbo starstruck with the tall pretty woman, just a peck would make him the happiest man alive. But I wanna go a little more in depth.

Now, I’ve seen Flash and Martian Manhunter save Bruce and/or his kids and Bruce lays one on them, but honestly I think it would work well with Diana too, because she loves kids. Dick and/or Jason (whichever you want to imagine, I want them to team up screw canon) are WAY to excited for this, they’ve got a little script and everything.

WonderWoman, a kid in each arm, delivering them back to their tearful guardian: “Here we are, Mr. Wayne. Whole and healthy.”

Dick, playing into his role eagerly: “Oh my gosh, Bruce! Bruce we got saved by a princess! It’s like a fairytale! Except, you know, the princess is the hero this time, which is so freaking cool!”

Bruce, tears of gratitude rolling down his face (and he knows how to still look perfect while crying, its a skill): “I’m just glad the two of you are safe, Chum.”

Jason, big baby blues in full effect, absolutely asked Wonder Woman to be his mom earlier (to set groundwork, no other reason): “You know, usually the princess and the hero gets a kiss at the end of a fairytale, Bruce. But this princess is both. So how will she get a reward?”

Still choked up with relieved tears and now laughter, Bruce looks up at Diana and smiles: “Well, if the Princess wants a reward… then I would be a fool to refuse.”

Bruce kisses her on the lips, Dick and Jason both kiss her cheeks, Diana leaves charmed and amused by the sweet family. Such a good father, humoring his children and thier little fascination with her, so very respectful…

Two down.

J’ohn Jones

Okay, martians are telepathic. So this goes one of two ways, at some sort of charity or something-

Option 1, Batman is a realist: the charity event is a masquerade, and he wanders over to where MM is while thinking “it would be so funny, give me this.” As loudly as he can. And Martian Manhunter, who appreciates the audacity, gives him a kiss. (I don’t like this one because it technically breaks the rules of the bet, bc MM knows it’s Batman, but eh)

Option 2, Batman is a different breed: he manages to up the ante with his Himbo Persona. Creating a “slippery void” mental facade that blocks of his real thoughts and makes him read as really just that stupid. This would require functioning with two trains of thought at once, and making sure that the Martian can only read the surface level, “oh, this one is pretty” “I really wouldn’t mind kissing him” and other such decoy thoughts, instead of “target is approaching, signs of interest present despite this not being his natural form-“

Bruce also researches and copies Martian courting styles and copies them “by chance,” catching MM’s attention. (He offers him Oreos)

Martian Manhunter: “this man… he is so empty headed and yet clearly kind and willing. I would not take him for a life partner, but for some simple fun as he seems to desire…”

(Edit: Maybe, if B is confident enough, he lets through his loneliness. Missing his parents, wanting affection, an ache so strong it’s like a physical wound. J’onn feels the same ache for his lost family, and decides to try this human’s strategy to fill that void. Either way…)

Batman 3, League 0

Barry Allen

I’m strangely blank when it comes to the Flash let me just spitball and let it snowball

As I said above, people have had him save Bruce, had Bruce seduce him at his workplace while taking a tour, I even saw @help-i-need-a-cool-username have Dick set up a petition for Bruce to kiss the Flash. (An idea that I personally think would also go really well with Superman lmao.)

Anyways, I think it would be funny for Bruce to take it slow with Barry. For the irony of it all. Because Batman is doing this to prove a POINT. So he’s in central city, spots Barry coming his way, and “accidentally” slips right into his arms. Ooh, or covered in coffee, like a wealth disparity drama base script, and Barry’s like “omg i am so sorry let me pay you back.” And bruce is all “this shirt costs (stupid amount of money)”

Barry: (fear)

Bruce, rolling with it rn: “yes, it is horrendous, isn’t it? Hows this- I’m in central city for a day. You can pay me back by showing me around?”

He then proceeds to string barry along on an honest to god DATE for shits and giggles. They go clothes shopping, they go to restaurants, Bruce pays for a big meal bc this is after a fight or something and Barry got hurt, his speedster comrade needs to EAT, damnit.

After all this, he gives a cheeky smile and lightly smooches Barry. “Thanks for the fun day, Mr. Allen.”

Barry, bright red and goo brained: “hah- mmhmm. Yeah…”

Batman 4, League 0

Oliver Queen

This one… Oliver is on guard. He’s twitchy and suspicious, turning down men flirting with him, people are starting to notice. But Bruce? Bruce just walks up at a party while “tipsy” and lays one on him. Straight up. He wants to show just how EASY it is. Because Oliver doesn't even register it. He just laughs and goes: “Hey Brucie! Miss me?”

Batman 5, League 0

Dinah Lance

Of course, immediately after above, he turns and pouts at canary.

Bruce: “Dinah darling, you are a saint, I don’t know how you put up with the mess he’s got on his face. He was so much nicer to kiss when we were in (fancy private school name drop) together and didn’t have all this nonsense.”

Dinah, laughing at Ollie’s offended noises: “Oh, I don’t mind it. He’s a good kisser.”

Bruce: “Of course he is, I taught him. Care to compare?”

Dinah: “Don’t mind if I do.”

Batman 6, league 0

Clark Kent

For Clark, Bruce is originally talking to Lois before he turns his eyes on a quiet Clark and croons: “So, Miss Lane, does this lovely specimen have his own questions, or is he arm candy? And if he’s the latter, can I either tempt him off you, or secure an invitation?”

Lois, an excellent friend who will absolutely set Clark up with the hottest bachelor in Gotham: “Well, Mister Wayne, I’ve got all I need. Clark, take a page from my book and honeytrap a good quote out of him, hm?”

With an obnoxious wink, she pats a spluttering Clark on the shoulder, and leaves him with a very smug Batman.

(Bonus Superbat- Clark and Bruce’s conversation is going REALLY WELL and to the point where both of them seem on board with more than a heavy makeout when Bruce puts a hand on Clarks chest.

Bruce: “Stop.”

Clark, freezing immediately: “I’m sorry, did I go too far-?”

Bruce: “No, no. I think I might be though. See, I have all of you now, and I’ve won the bet.”

Clark: “What are you- oh. Oh- HUH?”

Cue sudden and shocked revelation, Clark’s mind going a hundred miles an hour, and then skidding to a stop on- he only did this for the bet. He’s not really interested. He stopped because I went too far-

Bruce: “You only consented to a kiss without knowing my identity. Right now, I’d like to do more, if you’d let me.”

Clark has the dial-up tone ringing in his ears, he has no idea whats going on anymore, the hot billionaire and his reclusive teammate aren’t quite slotting into place, because he wants both but rhey’re so different but they’re the same but-

“Yes.”

Lois doesn’t get Clark back that night and she is delighted.)

Anyways, final results:

Batman: 7

League: 0

Reveal:

Batman talking shit about their secret identities again, Green Lantern is scoffing about it again, says something along the lines of: “You still think you’re sooooo great, huh? Hows the bet going, spooky?” Fully expecting Batman to get huffy with him.

Instead, Batman smirks.

He leans in

And purrs: “So you didn’t notice?”

The League freezes. The implications are dangling over their head. Did he… did he really?

Green Lantern, absolutely terrified: “No. no, there’s no way…”

Batman: “Oh, there absolutely was a way. I’d say you were a good kisser, but honestly? I think it might have been the euphoria of getting you to shut up.”

He turns on the rest of the league, still smirking. “I have kissed every single person who consented at least once in the time since the bet was made. Two of you with tongue. And no one has called me out on it. Now that you know it’s happened, you should be able to figure me out, so whoever can tell me my real name first, wont get thier story used as an example in the brand new “how to avoid honeypots” seminar.”

(If bonus superbat, B shoots Superman a Look and goes “except for you, superman, because I told you my name.” Which just ends up distracting everyone else until they get THAT story)

Diana wins bc she matched up the boys to the robins. Everyone else gets their stories told in excruciating detail. Batman rates them by kissing ability and how obvious he was on his approach. Oliver gets docked points for “texture.” Dinah gets docked points because “i griped about the exact same thing in and out of costume, how did you not notice-“

(Different reveal below)

@chaos-n-kindness @she-went-that-way @geekonaleash @redh00dsbf @howabouticallyou

[vampsywrites]

I — i remember her hands, and the way the mountains looked.

Synopsis: In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Tags: Female! Mountain Na'vi! Reader, Arranged Marriage, Sun & Moon couple, Strangers to Lovers, Neteyam is whipped

Word Count: 2.4k | AO3 LINK

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

"With the return of the sky people, our journey led us far, far up the horizon, where a towering mountain stood. Beyond the winding paths of its rocky terrain, nestled in the heart of nature's embrace, lay the village of the Iuva'ri clan—the ikran people of the mountains.

Iuva’ri was a beauty which both awed and intimidated those foreign to it. The village was tucked deep in a sheltered valley, bathed in the warm golden glow of the setting sun against the snow-capped peaks. A sanctuary hidden from the outside world. A perfect place for us to disappear without a trace.”

Flutters of the ikran's wings echoed loudly through the crisp air, alerting the people of their arrival. The once peaceful ambiance of the secluded village turned into a stir of commotion. Warriors sounded their horns, their urgent calls spreading like ripples through the village. The sight of the newcomers had ignited a sense of both curiosity and apprehension among the villagers, for rarely did travelers venture into their remote home.

As the crowd gathered at the center of the village, their gazes fixed on the newcomers, a mix of intrigue and wariness painted their expressions. Jake dismounted from his ikran gracefully, gesturing for his family to do the same. Neytiri's hand instinctively moved towards her bow, a hint of concern in her eyes. But before she could react, Jake rushed to stop her, his expression urging caution.

"Don't. Leave it," he murmured lowly, gently easing the weapon away from her grasp and tucking it back into the banshee's pouch. His mate sent him a disgruntled look in response but made no attempt to fight his decision.

"Alright. Come on," with a wave of his hand, Jake began to lead his family into the village, arms spread at his sides in an attempt to appear as docile as possible. "Let's be nice."

Neteyam followed in his father's footsteps, carefully observing his surroundings as he ascended the treacherous mountain slopes. His calculating eyes swept across the rugged terrain, taking in the awe-inspiring beauty of the snow-capped peaks and the vast expanse of the chalky landscape.

As they climbed higher, the air grew colder, and Neteyam shivered from the biting chill that enveloped them. The icy wind gnawed at his bones, and he pulled his shawl closer around him, seeking any respite from the relentless cold. This mountain was a stark contrast to the warm and humid forest he was accustomed to, and he felt the tingling sensation of numbness spreading across his exposed fingers.

As he navigated through unforgiving terrain, he found himself yearning for the comfort of home, longing for the lush green forest that offered a familiar warmth. Despite his reservations about this desolate place, he remained silent, his lips drawn into a tight line as he focused on the task at hand.

His attention was momentarily drawn away when a low whistle lanced through the air. Tilting his head up, Neteyam's gaze followed the sound, and he watched as a banshee glided gracefully through the skies. 

With a thud, the beast landed before them, sending a thick cloud of dust into the air as its rider dismounted. The rider was a tall, elderly woman, her midnight black hair contrasting against her milk blue skin. Her frosty eyes scanned their features, taking in every detail with a sharp intensity. A thick coat of fur was draped over her shoulders, and a billowing cape trailed behind her as she sauntered towards them, her expression a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Olo’eykte Ìumayi,” Jake bowed his head low, fingers extending from his forehead in a gesture of welcome. “I see you.”

Neytiri too bowed her head, gaze drawn to the ground as she murmured out her greeting, “I see you, Ìumayi.”

The woman continued to remain silent, circling them like vultures. Neteyam stood firm in his spot, his eyes never leaving the chief’s stalking figure.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she broke the silence, her voice dripping with a leering caution, "Why do you come to us, Toruk Makto?"

Neteyam observed his father's reaction to the title, noting how he tensed up and his face contorted into an unsightly grimace. Given that the Iuva'ri clan's culture revolved around their sacred bond with Ikrans, it came as no surprise why his title held such immense significance to them.

In contrast to her husband's visible unease, Neytiri stood tall, her demeanor unyielding as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"We seek uturu," she declared.

In response to Neytiri's words, Ìumayi whipped around violently, her expression hardening as she directed a stern glower towards them. "Uturu?" she questioned sharply.

“Yes,” Jake affirmed. “Sanctuary. For my family.”

The people around them erupted into a hushed, agitated chatter, but the chief was quick to silence them all with a snap of her fingers.

“We have heard tales of your times at war, of your blood from the sky people, and of the victories that have earned you praise among many Na'vi," Ìumayi spoke with a measured tone, her voice heavy. "But my people are not at war. I apologize, but I cannot allow you to bring your bloodshed here."

Jake's response was immediate, a mix of desperation and determination evident in his voice as he hurriedly spoke, "I'm done with war," he asserted, lowering himself to scoop up Tuktirey into his arms. The little girl sought refuge in the safety of his embrace, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. "I just want to keep my family safe."

Observing the tender scene, Ìumayi's stern exterior softened slightly, her warm eyes studying the family before her. Bowing her head in contemplation, she took a moment to weigh the consequences of her decision, fully aware of the significance of this encounter. With a heavy sigh, she finally lifted her head and made her verdict, "I will allow it."

The relief that washed over Jake was palpable, but before he could express his gratitude, Ìumayi raised a bony finger, signifying there was more to be said.

"I will allow it. On one condition," she continued, her gaze now turning towards Neteyam, holding him with an inquisitive gaze. "I understand you are the eldest, correct?"

Neteyam acknowledged the chief's attention with a nod, his heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

With a wave of her pale hand, Ìumayi turned to the crowd before her, calling out a name as she gestured for someone to come over. The crowd parted instinctively, revealing your figure. As you stepped closer and closer, Neteyam found his mouth growing dry once he fully took in your features.

Inky jets of midnight-black hair cascaded over your shoulders like a shimmering waterfall, adorned with an enchanting array of bioluminescent gems woven into each braid. Your skin, a mesmerizing hue of cool blue, appeared as though it were delicately bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Jagged, milk-white stripes adorned your limbs and face in an intricate pattern, reminiscent of a celestial canvas. It was as if the very hand of Eywa herself had delicately painted them onto you.

“This is my eldest daughter, Y/N," Ìumayi spoke with pride, gently guiding you to stand by her side, a strong, protective arm enveloping your shoulders. "With the recent passing of my beloved mate, she has stepped forward, assuming the role of Tsahìk."

You took a moment to study their curious expressions, your eyes reflecting an understanding for their situation, “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Neteyam stood in awe, watching as you gracefully acknowledged and greeted his family members. The solemnity of your father's absence was palpable, but your calm welcome brought a glimmer of warmth to the otherwise tense atmosphere. And as you turned to face him, the warrior felt his heart leap to his throat.

“Neteyam,” you called out, his name dripping off your lips like a sweet, thick syrup. The Omatikayan watched intently as you curled your fingers, tracing your hand up from your chest up to your forehead before extending it out towards him, icy gaze piercing through his very being, “I see you.”

Fuck.

Neteyam feels his mouth go slack, skin breaking out into a cold sweat as a rich, deep warmth spreads through him. It was a simple greeting, no more. You were merely welcoming them into your village—Trying to be courteous. And yet, why is it that the way you were looking at him left a searing burn in his chest? Twisting at his heart and sending his pulse into a rapid thrum until he could barely breathe?

Both Lo’ak and Kiri observed his reaction with amused grins. To knock him out of his trance, Kiri roughly shoved at Neteyam’s side, gesturing towards your awaiting figure. Almost immediately, he grounds himself, cheeks burning into a dark indigo.

"Tsahìk Y/N," he uttered shakily, his fingers clumsily returning the respectful gesture. His heart pounded blaringly in his chest as he gazed at you, trying to steady himself in your presence. "I see you."

Your smile, gentle like a soft breeze, acknowledged his greeting before you turned your attention back to your mother.

"I have reason to believe that this meeting with Toruk Makto's family is fated," your mother spoke out, "Many nights ago, before his death, my mate was blessed with a vision from Eywa herself. In the sacred embrace of dreams, the spirits revealed to him a profound prophecy of two clans uniting as one—a woman and a man forging an unbreakable bond."

The words of their chief hung in the air, and a hushed silence fell over the gathering as the significance of her statement registered with everyone present.

"As you all know," she continued, her gaze sweeping across the crowd, "I am not getting any younger, and my time draws nearer to its end. And I remind you all that the weight of this responsibility was not one I bore alone; a Tsahìk needs an Olo’eyktan by their side."

A moment passed as the implications of her words settled into Neteyam's mind, and then realization dawned on him.

"This vision bestowed upon my mate," she began, "is not to be taken lightly. It is a direct call from Eywa herself, and as I stand before you today, I believe that the very individuals foreseen in that vision are here before us."

Ìumayi's gaze locked onto Neteyam, her eyes seeming to peer into his very soul. "With Eywa's guidance," she continued, "I propose a union between my daughter and Toruk Makto's eldest son."

The people around them erupted into chaos, their voices rising in a cacophony of opinions. Some had cried out in agreement while some were outraged at the idea of an outsider leading the clan. And as the concerns of his parents too filled the air; Neteyam felt a tumult of emotions within him. He knew their apprehensions were driven by love and care, yet there was an unexplainable energy surging through his veins, compelling him to step forward, to embrace the path laid out before him.

Before he could fully process the weight of his decision, his lips moved with a life of their own, the words escaping him faster than he could think, "I accept."

The crowd falls deathly silent at his declaration.

As the weight of his own words settled in, a storm consumed Neteyam. Accepting this union had been an unforeseen choice, one he had never anticipated making. It led him down a path he had never imagined walking, and uncertainty clawed at the very core of his being. 

And yet, as he turned to look at you, he found these worries falling silent. The sight of you ignited a surge of emotions within him, an overwhelming rush that defied comprehension. It was as though an irresistible, magnetic force was drawing him closer to you, as if every beat of his heart called for your name.

The warrior heaved a sigh, lowering his gaze to the ground and bowing his head as a gesture of respect to your mother.

“I am willing to accept this union," Neteyam affirmed, his eyes flickering back to meet yours, "Only if she will have me.”

Lo’ak's lips twitched, a hint of a grin threatening to break free, but he bit down on his lips, holding back the laugh that threatened to escape. His gaze met Kiri's, and they exchanged a knowing look, both equally amused and astonished by their older brother's unexpected behavior. Neteyam had always been the pillar of stability and composure in their family, making his impulsive acceptance of the proposal all the more surprising.

Lo’ak turned to glance at their parents, noticing his mother's eyes which were wide with concern. It was evident that she wanted to say something, but their father subtly pulled her back, silently urging her to hold her words for the moment.

Neytiri took a moment to study Neteyam's face, the resolve and determination etched across his features. Their gazes locked, and she saw a depth of conviction in her son's eyes that she hadn't witnessed before—a fierce certainty that he had made the right choice, even if it was sudden.

In that moment of silent understanding, Neytiri nodded her head, her concerns momentarily quelled. "If that is what he wishes," she said, her voice softening with acceptance, "we will support him."

Ìumayi’s smile grew slightly wider, her eyes shimmering with approval as she turned her attention to you. "Good. Now, ma’ite, what say you?" she inquired, her tone gentle yet expectant.

The world around you seemed to blur for a moment as you locked eyes with Neteyam, the unspoken bond between you both intensifying.

From the days of your childhood, you had already accepted the prospect of a planned marriage, or at best, one founded on companionship. To you, as long as your partner proved amiable and undemanding, it would be enough. And yet, you could not have even begun to imagine that you would end up in a marriage with Toruk Makto's son.

In the face of the unexpected proposal, you responded with a firm nod, your voice steady with conviction, "If Eywa wills it, then I shall accept as well."

The sight of Neteyam's smile and the exuberant whip of his tail around his feet brought a surge of unforeseen warmth to your heart. The moment felt surreal, like a dance with destiny that had been set into motion long before this day. Perhaps, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad after all.

Your mother nodded, her expression reflecting satisfaction and pride.

"Then it is settled," she declared firmly, "Toruk Makto and his family shall stay with us, and his son shall be promised to my daughter. We'll teach them our ways and treat them as our own."

“May Eywa bless their path."

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

[jokeringcutio]

Stepdad! William Afton x Reader – ‘Boyfriend’ (SMUT)

Summary: You bring home a boy. Your mother is excited. Your stepdad…not so. Cue to stepdad William Afton staking his claim and reminding you who you truly belong to.

Fandom: FNAF (inspired by the movie verse) Pairing: William Afton x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (SMUT), Age difference, Older man x Younger woman, stepdad x daughter!reader, dub-con, implied con, taboofic, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, secret!sex, jealousy!, threats, hair pulling, unsafe sex, creampie, breeding!kink implied, infidelity, implied established stepdadxreader, William Afton is not a nice man, William Afton is a bad dad.

Boyfriend

Flashing him an encouraging smile, you stepped into the warmth of your home, the chill from the outside air dissipating. Your mother bustled about in the kitchen, the familiar scents of her cooking enveloping you like a comforting embrace. As she turned to greet you, her gaze fell upon Sam, who stood just behind you.

"Mom," you said, motioning towards the young man beside you. "Remember Sam?"

Sam was undeniably handsome; his blond hair framed a chiseled face adorned with bright green eyes that seemed to capture every bit of light in the room. His tall frame filled out the doorway, exuding a quiet strength that immediately caught your mother's attention. Her eyes twinkled as she looked him over.

"Nice to meet you,” Sam said politely, extending a hand that your mother eagerly shook. Her eyes traced over his broad shoulders and the white toothy smile.

"You are on the football team, aren’t you?" she replied warmly, her excitement barely contained.

“I am,” Sam confirmed, his smile broadening, reminiscing you of ancient statues of Greek Heroes and Gods. He was picture-perfect. Just the right type of boy to take home to impress your mother with.

"Actually, Mom," you hesitated for just a moment before continuing, voice shy and eyelashes fluttering, "Sam and I are dating.”

"Really?" Her eyes widened, a grin spreading across her face. "Oh, how wonderful!" She clapped her hands together in delight.

“Your daughter is a gem,” Sam said smoothly, words slipping out like velvet. You could just see how your mother seemed to approve of him.

He placed his bag on the kitchen counter and seemed to look around for something, then his eyes traveled to you, a question within them. You tried to suppress a grin and shook your head, and Sam’s eyes traced back to your mom.

"Excuse me," Sam said, "Can I use the…?”

"Of course, dear." Your mother pointed down the hallway. "Second door on the right."

As soon as he disappeared from sight, your mother pulled you into a tight hug. "So spill, when did this happen? Didn’t you tell me you didn’t like that boy?”

“Just today,” you said with a small grin. “And perhaps I changed my mind. Try and date. Like someone kept nagging I should.”

“Finally,” your mom said, raising her palms in the air. “I have been praying you would go on a date, even if it was just once. You really need to get some experience. And Sam seems… nice.”

“I know,” you said, tongue pressing against the back of your teeth pensively. “He’s not my type…”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” your mother said hesitatingly, though you could tell she had been thinking it. Then she flashed you another smile and gently placed her hand on top of yours. “I am happy you are finally crawling out of your shell. You’re a pretty girl,” at this you scrunched your nose and she caught sight of it, “yes, you are. Even if you think differently.”

Then she let go of your hand and let out a happy sigh. “Oh, I remember when I was your age.”

You rolled your eyes as you both said, “Dated a new boy each week.”

You looked at your mom and you both laughed. “I know, mom,” you said. “I know. But I’m not like that.”

“I know,” she replied with a gentle smile, her head resting on her hands and her elbows leaning on the kitchen counter as she looked at you. “I'm so happy for you, sweetheart! He seems like a great guy."

You couldn't help but smile. "He really is, Mom."

Sam returned to the kitchen, a sheepish grin on his face, and you both settled down at the table to work on your homework assignment. Your mother, sensing that you two might want some time alone, gave you both a teasing smile.

"If you get hungry you may take from these,” she gestured at the food she’d been making. “I'll be working in the attic if you need anything," she said before exiting the kitchen.

Sam eyed the snacks your mother had been making and picked one up, taking a bite. You followed his example.

The assignment before you was boring, and quite soon both of you were sighing. You noticed how Sam was moving closer to you with every opportunity he got, brushing an arm against you or a leg. It was exactly why you had chosen to date him. You just knew he would make a move and never took schoolwork seriously. He was that type of guy. Hands-on. Thinking of one thing only.

"God, I hate this assignment," Sam mumbled as he flipped through his textbook, his green eyes filled with annoyance.

"Tell me about it," you agreed, rubbing your temples. "Let's take a break and put on some music."

"Great idea." Sam pulled out his phone and connected it to a small speaker. Soon, the sultry sounds of bachata filled the air, and you couldn't help but sway along to the rhythm.

"Come on," Sam stood up, offering you his hand. "Let's dance."

You grinned, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you into the dance. His strong arms guided you effortlessly, the heat between you two palpable as your bodies moved in sync. The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the music and Sam's embrace.

The sound of a door slamming shut jolted you back to reality and you looked straight into the fury blue eyes of your father.

William Afton, your stepfather, stood in the doorway, his face twisted with anger. You immediately felt a knot of fear tighten in your stomach.

"Uh, hi Dad," you stammered, trying to sound casual even as your heart raced.

"Who is this?" he growled, his cold blue eyes narrowing as they fixed on Sam. Pretty young boy. Everything the opposite of what he was.

"Th-this is Sam," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "He's my boyfriend." Not quite, but dating counted, right?

"Boyfriend?" William sneered, his distaste evident. "And that makes this okay? You think I'd let something like this happen under my roof?"

"Sir, we were just—" Sam began, only to be cut off by the sharp, icy glare William shot him.

"Enough," William snapped, his tone making it clear that there would be no further discussion. You could see Sam's jaw clench in frustration, but he wisely held his tongue.

You forced yourself to take a calming breath and lowered your gaze submissively. "I'm sorry, Dad," you murmured, hoping that would be enough to placate him for now.

William's lips curled into a sneer as he paced the room, his anger radiating in waves. "You're too young to be dating," he spat, his words like venom. "Don’t know what you’re getting into, do you? So eager for a boy’s cock."

You felt your cheeks flushed and shyly stared at the floor, letting your stepdad’s words wash over you like waves.

“And you,” he then said, aiming his fully attention at Sam now. “I know your type. Think you can seduce a naïve young girl, fuck her on your cock once and then throw her aside like a cheap whore. Laugh about it afterward with your friends. You think my daughter’s easy like that?”

Sam shifted uncomfortably under the weight of William's gaze, visibly shrinking back from him. You felt your cheeks burn with humiliation, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

"Maybe your mother thinks it's cute," William continued, turning back to you again, his voice dripping with disdain. "But I know better. She'd love to see you become a whore, wouldn't she?"

"Hey, that's not fair—" Sam started to protest, but a single raised hand from William silenced him.

"Enough." The word was barely more than a growl, and it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but feel betrayed by Sam's inability to defend you, even as you knew that standing up to William was like trying to stop a hurricane with an umbrella.

"Look," Sam muttered, avoiding your eyes. "I should go. We can finish the homework later, or something."

And it was exactly this something that had the hope inside if your tummy plummeting. As Sam rushed to your front door, you followed him with featherlight steps.

Somehow this was what you had expected of him. All tough and popular in school, but when facing a bigger man he would shrink away.

It irked you that he didn’t even try to stand up for you, that he accepted this defeat without so much as turning to your dad and telling him off. Nope, he just went to the door. Left you to your dad. Coward.

You slammed your hand on the door before he could open it, forcing him to lock eyes with you.

"Wait," you whispered. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you stand up for me?"

"Your dad,” Sam spoke through gritted teeth but hesitated, as if he were uncertain why he even had this conversation with you. At the end of the hallway, you could feel your stepdad’s towering presence, heavy and dark.

Like a shadow watching over the two of you.

“Your dad’s just...too much for me," Sam finally admitted, his voice tense. He paused and looked at you. "I'm sorry."

"Stepfather," you corrected him softly, feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. "He's my stepfather."

Sam shrugged, his bag on his back, the zipper open still, showing the folders and maps you were supposed to be working on.

"Either way, I don't want to be around him." With that, Sam stepped out the door, leaving you alone to face the storm that was William Afton.

You slowly turned around, the shape of your stepfather like a dark shadow at the end of the hall. The displeased curve of his lips was visible from where you stood.

He only needed to point a finger to the floor, signaling that you had to return to him. No words were needed. Step after careful step, you walked closer, entering the room before he closed the door behind you.

“Well now,” the words came out low and rasped as your stepdad placed his large hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the kitchen table before roughly pushing you toward it. You tumbled over by the sheer force, chest pressed against the cold wood as items that had still been on the table now clattered to the floor.

Strong hands moved past your hips, pulling your pants and panties down in one swift motion, exposing your neither regions. Cold air brushed past your skin and you subdued a shudder.

"You think it's okay to bring someone else home, hmm?" William asked, his voice cold. "Think I wouldn't find out?"

"Dad, I-" you began to protest, but he cut you off.

"Quiet." He didn't give you a chance to respond before he delivered the first spank, sharp and sudden. You gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure that shot through your body. His hands were big, even against the supple flesh of your ass.

"Count," he instructed, his breath heavy.

“One,” you said, words forced out through gritted teeth. Another slap, the stinging slightly fiercer than before. Your hands curled into fists in front of you, trying to support your weight on your elbows as you stood bent forward over the table. Another smack. “Two.”

You heard the deep breathing of your stepdad as it increased. He was getting excited. “You brat,” you heard him murmur in between slaps. The stinging increasingly becoming worse, the pain a delightful pleasure that made you hum.

“It’s clear Dad here has got to teach you a lesson not to be such a little slut,” each of those final words was punctuated by another firm slap to your buttocks, making you see stars and wheeze with pleasureful pain.

You whimpered out the numbers, bracing yourself for another smack. As the spanking continued, your cheeks burned and your arousal grew. There was something thrilling about being at his mercy, about submitting entirely to him.

Finally, your stepdad stopped, and you waited in anticipation for another slap. But it didn’t come. Instead, you felt his strong hands massaging your tender flesh. His fingers, rough from years of working on animatronics, sent shivers down your spine as he caressed your sensitive skin, separating your now sore cheeks and pushing them back together again.

"Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he purred, his hot breath fanning across your wet pussy. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted, and it both terrified and excited you. He leaned down, his tongue teasing your slit before he captured your clit between his teeth, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

"Dad," you moaned, unable to contain yourself any longer. He hummed in response, his lips working expertly on your most sensitive spot. The nibbling the flick of his tongue to your sensitive clit, it was all too much, and you had to bite the back of your hand in order to keep from crying out loud. Suppose your mom would hear.

No, she could never find out!

Chapped lips curved against your sensitive sticky-wet skin. The little hairs of his beard tickled you as William continued to pleasure you with his mouth. You felt a familiar tension building within you. Desperate for release, you wriggled on the table, wishing you could somehow grasp his hair and urge him on. But he held your hips tightly in his hands, grip strong enough to create finger-shaped bruises, his head buried between your legs. All you could to was squirm against the table, wishing you could see him as he ate you out.

"Please," you begged, the sound nearly a sob. William chuckled darkly, slipping his fingers inside you and curling them just right. It was all too much – the pressure, the pleasure, the pain – and suddenly, you were falling apart, your orgasm washing over you in a tidal wave of sensation.

Your body trembled, pussy pulsing wildly around his finger and tongue, slick gushing forward and into his awaiting mouth, coating his lips.

As he withdraw, you heard a dark chuckle. Your world spun and slowly got back into focus, and you realized you were still on the table, your weight resting on your elbows as you stared at the photographs of your family hanging on the wall.

You were grateful that the table supported you, because your legs were shaking and you didn’t think you could stand on your own right now.

"Good girl," William praised, his voice low and dangerous as he withdrew his fingers from your quivering core. As you lay there, catching your breath, you could feel the lingering pulse of your orgasm still radiating through your body. But William wasn't finished with you yet.

"Stay bent over," he commanded, his voice rough and demanding. You obeyed, anticipation causing a shiver to run down your spine. The sound of his zipper being undone filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel both nervous and excited for what was about to happen.

"Such a tight little pussy," he growled as he positioned himself behind you, one hand gripping your hip while the other tangled in your hair. He pulled you back, forcing you to arch your back even more as his cock pressed against your entrance.

"Please," you whimpered, desperate for him.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked, his voice dark and dangerous.

"Y-you," you stuttered, feeling your face flush with embarrassment.

"Say it," he demanded.

"I belong to you, Daddy."

"Good girl," he praised before thrusting into you without warning, his cock splitting you open and filling you completely. A gasp tore from your throat as you struggled to adjust to his size, but William didn't give you any time to recover. He set a brutal pace, pounding into you like an animal, his grip on your hair keeping you in place.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," he snarled, his breath hot on your neck. His words sent a shudder through you, and you couldn't help but push back against him, wanting to take him deeper.

"Harder, please," you begged, needing to feel his complete control.

"Greedy little thing," he chuckled, somehow managing to drive into you even harder. "You love this, don't you?"

You parted your lips to answer, the feelings overwhelming you. But he was quicker.

“Quiet,” he snarled in your ear, “We don’t want your mother to hear what we’re doing here, do we?”

Hard as it was, you managed a nod – even with the way he kept a grip tightly on your hair. Your body ached for him, and every thrust of his hips seemed to drive you further under his spell.

"Tell me who you're gonna fuck from now on," he demanded, his voice a low growl.

"Only you, Daddy."

"Damn right," he muttered as he continued to pound into you, each thrust making your body shudder with pleasure. You felt the firm outline of his hips, the softness of his belly pressing against your back as he thrust inside of you. It shouldn’t feel so sinful, but it did. Your much older stepfather was making you feel so good, that it dazed you.

You could feel another orgasm building, but before you could reach that peak, William's grip on your hair tightened as his own release approached.

"Fuck!" he snarled, his hips slamming into you one last time as he came, filling you with his hot seed. His grip changed on you while you cried out, walls fluttering around his hard shaft. His hand on your hip and the one pulling your hair ensured that you were pulled flushed against him, making sure he stayed buried deep inside for just a little longer than needed while your cunt pulsed around him.

Slowly, your vision started to stabilize again. The warped pictures on the wall came back into focus and your pussy’s grip on his cock became looser, not pulsing as frequently as your body started to relax.

His panting breaths filled the room as he slowly pulled out, releasing your hair from his grip.

“Now, what do you say?” you heard his low voice rumble as you slumped forward on the table, catching your breath.

"Thank you, Daddy," you murmured, feeling the slick escape from the depths of your core, sliding all the way down your legs. You slowly got up and pushed yourself away from the table, facing William.

He stood a few feet behind you, his pants resting on his hips, cock and balls proudly on display. Liquid coated his softening shaft, and you watched entranced as he started to tuck it back inside his pants before zipping his fly.

You followed his example, bending over to pull your pants up, wincing at the discomfort you felt deep inside your core where he had been battering your cervix without a care in the world. You prayed your mother wouldn’t walk in right now, but luckily, she didn’t.

When you were presentable enough again – making sure your hair wasn’t quite the mess and ignoring the cold sticky liquid that ran down the inside of your thigh – you took a step closer to your stepdad.

“Mr. Afton,” you said, knowing he liked it when you addressed him so formally. And it worked. You saw the spark in his blue eyes. Licking your lips, closed the distance between you, standing on your tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss.

Once the kiss broke, your eyes met his blue ones. The pupils so dilated they seemed almost black.

“That’s better,” your stepfather said, his hand resting on the small of your back, keeping you close to him whilst towering over you. Just the height of him made you feel small, but then there was that gaze and the firm tone he used when he spoke to you. So demanding, so in control.

"Remember," he warned, his eyes dark and intense. "I don’t ever want to see you take another boy home again, or the consequences will be far beyond anything you can ever imagine.”

As a spark lit off in your eyes, he caught sight of it and his grip on you tightened. The corners of his lips pulled into a tight line. “I am serious, do not challenge me on this one. It is unlike what you are thinking of.”

And somehow, those words brought with them a sense of danger that made you actually feel cold on the inside, like he wasn’t threatening to fuck you hard as a punishment, but that he was threatening whatever man you might want to take home in future times. Like a death sentence. Would he kill them?

“You're mine, and I don't share," he rasped.

You nodded, your heart racing at his possessiveness. Somehow, it felt both terrifying and thrilling to be so completely claimed by this dangerous, powerful man.

And as you looked into his eyes, you knew your plan had worked.

“I promise to be good for you, Dad,” you said, words a whisper.

He let go just in time before the door flung open and your mother entered the room.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re back,” she said, bright smile on her face as she walked over to give William a hug and a kiss on his lips. His blue eyes darted past her to meet yours and you quickly glanced aside.

Once they broke apart, your mother turned toward you. “Where’s Sam?” And then a frown formed on her face as she sniffed the air. She must have been quick in recognizing the scent and deducing what must have happened, for you could see her lips curl into a small smile and her eyes twinkle,

“Well, at least I hope you’ve used protection,” she muttered as she brushed past you to return to the snacks she prepared earlier in the kitchen.

“Want a taste of something sweet,” she curiously asked your stepdad, holding up one of the plates with prepared snacks.

William’s grin widened. “Oh,” he murmured, “I think I already have.”

~ Fin ~

AN: I am open for prompts. Want to read more? Why not check my masterlist, I write a lot of reader-inserts, including x William Afton, Arthur Fleck, The Grabber, Arthur Harrow, Severus Snape, and many more. ~

Taglist: @likoplays @2pacl0ve

AN: For more, follow me (:

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[nvareim]

bite me, v. garza x fem! reader

tags; predator/prey, fearplay, dacryphilia, degradation, drugging, thigh riding, stalking, dubcon and toxic dynamics. MDNI w/c; 4.4k ao3 link | pinterest board a/n; never arguining with a woman with big brown eyes, whatever u say gorgeous

The streets of Las Almas are still blood-stained the day you escape.

It’s been quieter since the Shadows combed through the city, killing anything that moved. The dogs no longer bark, kids don’t play in the streets, and the armed men who roamed every alley are few and far between. It’s the perfect opening. You spend the morning preparing. 

You pack lightly, only the things you’re sure you’ll need. Clothing for layering, socks, underwear, and cash. It all fits nicely in a backpack you can easily carry. You leave both of your phones on the nightstand, the backs pried off and batteries neatly stacked atop each other. 

The better part of an hour is spent prying at the metal collar around your neck. You pry at the latch until your fingers are bloody, picking at the screw that holds it together. As a last resort, you use the point of a utility knife. You sit just inches away from the mirror, neck twisted at an uncomfortable angle as you slowly unscrew the locking mechanism. You’re stock-still, barely breathing out of fear the blade will slip. 

 The second the collar unlatches, you rip it from around your neck and throw it aside. It slides across the floor, hitting the baseboard with a heavy thud. You take deep, ragged breaths as you study your reflection. The lack of weight around your neck is foreign. With it gone, your decision is final. There’s no turning back now.

Las Almas is teeming with Mexican soldiers. They pace the Greyhound station, X12s strapped to their thighs and rifles slung across their chests. Their watchful eyes follow you as you pay for your ticket in cash with shaky hands. The old woman in the booth hardly scrutinizes your forged papers, clicking away at her keyboard as she logs information. She slides your ticket through the opening in the plexiglass, wishing you a safe trip. 

You practically fall onto a bench, sighing as you hug your bag close to your body. Rain pours down from the roof, streaming toward the storm drains. The air is thick and warm with moisture, heavy on your skin. You bounce your knee nervously as you wait for the bus to round the corner. 

When it does arrive, you’re the first to board. You snag a window seat at the very back where you can watch every passenger enter. You hold your breath with each new rider, nervously anticipating Valeria or one of her men to be the next passenger. It isn’t until the bus is pulling away from Las Almas that you feel the weight lift from your chest, though just barely.

Your journey north becomes a slow crawl. The best ticket you could afford brought you just north of Denver. The rest of your cash is rationed out and stuffed beneath your clothing.

In the beginning, the kiss of cool air against your skin is refreshing. It’s a welcome reprieve from the sweltering Mexican heat. A reminder of how far you’ve gotten. But the novelty quickly wears off once the slight chill turns unforgiving. You attempt to adapt by picking up a free coat from a local church and bartering over warmer clothes from thrift stores, but they only do so much to protect you from the bitter cold. Homeless shelters aren’t an option, the lines are longer as the dead of winter draws nearer. By the time you reach Wyoming, you’re running low on money to spend. You resort to stealing food from gas stations and sleeping in alleyways. You spend your days in local libraries, reevaluating your route north and searching for updates on Valeria. Librarians typically quirk a brow at your peculiar behavior, but leave you alone until they close down for the night. 

As the nights grow longer, they become even more difficult to get through. You curl yourself into a ball, your money stuffed into the band of your bra and a knife clutched tightly in your hand lest anyone gets any ideas. Hostels are few and far between and only reserved for nights you’d surely die if you slept outside. 

In early December, you spend a decent chunk of your food budget on a cheap motel room. It’s a shady establishment just outside of a small city, the kind of place you pay for by the hour. Snow flutters down and gathers in the parking lot, the pure white flakes quickly soiled by the gravel beneath. Multicolored Christmas lights are wrapped around the wrought iron railings in honor of the upcoming holiday. A few women smoke in the shadows of the building, seemingly huddling together for warmth. 

Inside the room, The wallpaper peels away to reveal yellow-stained drywall beneath and the heating unit rattles when you turn it on, blowing a small cloud of dust into the room. You refuse to peel away the comforter out of fear of what you’ll find, so you toss a blanket overtop instead. The lingering stench of cigarette smoke and artificial lemon is nearly caustic. 

 You turn the TV on, upping the volume until it’s loud enough to drown out the noise of the heater. The throw beneath you is scratchy and thin, but the bed itself is comfortable enough that you allow yourself to sink into it. With so many miles between you and Valeria, it’s easy to lull yourself into a sense of false security.

You shrug your jacket off to use as a makeshift pillow. It’s a far cry from Valeria’s luxurious bed back in Las Almas, but it’s the best you’ve had in weeks. The steady flow of warm air filling the room thaws the stiff joints in your limbs and loosens the long-held tension in your shoulders. It’s easy to fully settle into the makeshift pillow, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. It’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

It’s pin-drop quiet when you wake up. The constant hum of the heating unit has ceased, though the room has long gone cool. The TV had been shut off, leaving the room completely dark. 

You blink away the last bits of sleep from your eyes, willing your vision to focus. Something primal stirs in your gut, fight or flight instincts urging you to move. The darkness comes into focus slowly, the shape of the furniture comes into focus. So does a figure sitting at the foot of the bed. 

Your blood freezes in your veins. You push yourself up from the bed, heart pounding in your ears. A firm hand wraps around your upper arm, throwing you back into the mattress. The springs squeak from the force. You kick and thrash in Valeria’s hold, desperate to land at least one hit. You refuse to go down without a fight, not after all you’ve been through. You manage to land a single scratch across her cheek. Blood bubbles up from her skin, smearing onto your fingers and her face when you push her away. 

One of her hands pins both your wrists to your sternum as she bears down on you. Her knees press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you in place. You take in a gasping breath, lungs struggling to expand under her weight. For the first time, you get a good look at Valeria and what you see terrifies you. There’s a feral glint to her eyes and not a bit of playfulness in her smile. Your heart pounds against your ribcage like a rabbit. 

“You scream and I’ll gut anyone who comes in that door,” Valeria hisses, hand tightening around your wrists as she wraps a zip tie around them. Tears spill from your waterline as composure crumbles. The edge of the tie presses into your skin uncomfortably, but Valeria doesn’t soften at your whining.

“It was a fun chase, sweetheart, but it’s over,” She fishes a small bag from her pants pocket, shaking a small white pill into her palm. Valeria holds it to your lips with one hand, the other pinching your nose shut. You go as long as you can without air, stubbornly clenching your jaw shut until your lungs burn. 

Valeria watches with interest, grinning as the seconds tick by. You barely make it a minute before you’re gasping for air. Valeria doesn’t waste a moment before she’s pushing the pill past your lips and pressing her palm over your mouth before you can spit it out. Her fingers still pinch your nose shut, her grip unyielding against the restrained fists that pound against her chest.

“Swallow, baby,” She goads as black creeps into the edges of your vision. By now, the pill is reduced to bitter white chunks on your tongue, but you make a show of swallowing to satisfy her. The reaction is almost instantaneous, her fingers prodding past your lips as you desperately gulp down oxygen. Her fingers taste like sanitizer and lotion as she inspects your gum line and beneath your tongue. You cringe away from her touch but with the bed beneath you, there’s nowhere to go. 

When she’s confident you swallowed, she gives you a quick pat on the cheek. The corner of her lips twitch up in only a ghost of a grin before she’s hauling you to your feet and bending you over her lap. You huff, balance thrown off kilter by the sudden movement and lack of oxygen. Valeria’s knee digs uncomfortably into your stomach and ribs. A hand wraps around your upper arm, holding you firmly on her lap. 

“You thought I wouldn’t hunt you down?”  She asks, free hand trailing down the curve of your spine. Her chipped and jagged nails drag across your skin, leaving raised lines in their wake. Fingers curl around the waistband on your sweatpants, gripping tight. You kick your legs, gritting out empty threats as she pulls them down. She tugs until the cleft of your ass is exposed to the stale air.

“I’m sorry,” You sob into the comforter, tears wetting the scratchy blanket. You sound like a broken record, the apologies spilling from your mouth only broken up by promises to never do it again.

“I don’t believe you,” Valeria coos, a condescending smile playing at her lips. She splays her hand against your ass cheek, lightly pressing into the soft flesh until it dimples beneath her fingertips. Her grip on your arm has tightened enough to be bruising.

The heat between Valeria’s thighs only heightens at the sight of you draped over her lap. Idly, she considers the merits of a more sadistic punishment. Purpled bite marks across your shoulders would certainly remind you who you belong to. Or maybe nice ‘V’ carved into the soft fat of your ass. Both would crush your little attitude beneath her boot. Ultimately, she decides to stow those thoughts away for now, saving them for when you’re back home with her. It’d be easy to go overboard now, with the adrenaline and anger rushing through her bloodstream. For now, she just wants to make you cry. 

The first hit comes when you least expect it. The impact sends a ripple through the soft flesh of your ass. Valeria groans lowly at the sight. Your hips jump at the sensation, skin going hot beneath Valeria’s palm. The strike has you screeching, thrashing beneath her in a futile attempt at an escape. You clench and unclench your restrained fists.

“Count.” Her brown irises are swallowed by her dilated pupils, trained in the spot where her hand met your cheek. The heat of your skin bleeds into Valeria’s cold palms, goosebumps popping up across your exposed skin. 

“What the fuck?” You squeal, humiliation and fear petering into indignation. It’s not a surprise to Valeria, she’d always known there was a bit of you that needed training. You were impatient, even selfish at times. A wily little thing she enjoyed wrestling into submission. The brattiness was endearing in her own bed, but after the past few weeks, it only stokes her anger. 

“Count,” She repeats, a little louder this time. “Count and maybe I won’t fucking chip you.” The twist of anger in your expression has her raising her hand again, coming down in a perfect arc to hit the same spot again. You shriek into the bedding, fingernails sinking into your clammy palms. Valeria’s arm tightens around you, dragging you even further into her lap. “Not gonna do it?” She brings her hand down three more times, alternating which side she hits to keep you on edge. “You think I’m lying? Tracked you down like a fucking dog, tell me why I shouldn’t treat you like one?” 

“Won’t do it again, Val,” You sob. “Please, I’m sorry!” Hot tears stream down your flushed face, mixing with the drool smeared across your chin and mouth. Your voice cracks with the force of your crying. Valeria grows impossibly wetter, slick dampening the gusset of her panties. 

“Then start counting.” Your fingers claw at the blanket as she strikes you again. There’s no screech or resistance when her palm hits you, just sniffling. The seconds drag by like hours as Valeria waits with bated breath, hungrily watching the tears spill from your eyes. 

“ One .” Valeria releases your chin and you press your cheek to the mattress. She groans at your thin voice, hoarse from all your yelling. Her palm rubs soothing circles over the spot she’d just hit, contrasting the rough treatment just seconds prior. A shudder runs up your body at the sensation, eyes screwed shut. 

“Good girl,” She murmurs, lips curling into a predatory grin. The next hit has you tensing up beneath her, stammering out a low two . There’s still some resentment buried beneath your submission. It shows in the impudent curl of your lips, the angry furrow of your brow. The quiet whimper that slips your mouth before three is delicious. It appeases Valeria’s growing appetite.  

By ten , you’ve run out of tears. The quiet groans spilling from your throat have a knot winding in Valeria’s stomach. Your ass is marred with her handprints, raised marks from the trauma. Come time, they’ll darken into bruises, the sting of red-hot flesh fading to an overwhelming ache. And every time you see them, you’ll be reminded of your mistakes. Valeria loosens her grip on you, knowing you won’t even try to run. 

By fifteen , your eyes have glossed over and your thrashing has ceased. The numbers are whispered through gritted teeth between quiet grunts, attitude fully snuffed out by Valeria’s hand. A little pain and you’re her good girl again, all sweet and pliant beneath her. Your inner thighs are dewy with the slick that leaks from you, dribbling down your cunt to your swollen clit. 

There’s no resistance as she hauls you to your feet, hands placed beneath your armpits like you’re a doll. You brace your hands on her shoulder, legs too shaky to keep you upright. Valeria tugs your panties and sweatpants up, brushing the bruised curve of your ass too firmly to be accidental. You shift a little, lurching forward to escape the pain. 

Valeria grabs you by the hips, dragging you into her lap. You let out a little yelp upon resting your ass against her thighs, the sudden weight against the raw skin overwhelming. For a moment, you hover, but Valeria presses you down firmly, ignoring the way you wriggle away. Once the pain subsides, you practically meld into her, head resting in the crook of her neck as you sniffle. Valeria brushes the hair from your face, damp with tears and cold sweat. Your limbs are loose, heavy with warmth that emanates from the pit of your stomach.

“Why’d you run?” She murmurs, dragging her splayed palms up and down your thighs. When you don’t reply, she tugs your head from the crook of her neck, hand cradling the base of your skull. Valeria studies you with her dark eyes, searching for a flicker of resistance in your lachrymose gaze. She finds nothing. “Hm? What was it?” 

“I was scared,” The words slip out before you can consider them. It’s an admission only made more pathetic by your thin voice. Something in Valeria’s gaze shifts as her lips press into a line. Her hand tightens on the back of your neck. The weeks of false composure fracture when faced with her dilated pupils, only a thin rind of warm brown surrounding them. The fear hits you like a cold wave, washing over your body as the words are spilling from your chest. 

“I-I didn’t know if it was safe for me to stay,” You stammer out, clenching your hands into fists in an attempt to ward off the tremors overtaking you. “I was worried that maybe they’d come for me next and you wouldn’t be there, Valeria, and I-” The corners of her lips tug up into a smug, satisfied grin and your words are cut short with a stifled sob. 

It’s not a lie, but not quite the truth either. Valeria can see it in the split second of hesitation before you speak. There’s fear there, but not fear of her enemies. No, she saw that terror in your wide-eyed gaze when you realized she had been the one to find you. 

“Oh, mi vida ,” Valeria coos, a hand coming up to cradle your cheek. Her thumb brushes away the few tears rolling down your face. Her other hand brushes up and down your side, dipping beneath the fabric of your shirt. “You thought you’d be safer running?” You sniffle as she squeezes at the fat of your hip. “This,” She gestures to the room around you with a sardonic chuckle. “This is worse than if you stayed put. I can’t protect you when I don’t know where you are.”

“I’m sorry.” You say for the millionth time. It’s the only response your brain can formulate. She’s right, running only left you more vulnerable to people who would use you to reach Valeria. But she doesn’t take your fear of her into consideration, even with the marks spread across your ass cheeks. 

“I believe you,” She says, “But it’ll take more than an apology to make me trust you. You understand, right?” 

You nod, eyes cast downward in shame.

“Good girl,” She tugs at your lower lip with her thumb. “Missed you s’much, you know?” She purrs, pressing two fingers past your lips. Your jaw widens to accommodate the push of her finger against your tongue. “Was so excited to see my girl. Bet you can imagine how I took the news, hm?” Drool gathers behind your teeth, dripping down your chin as Valeria ‘accidentally’ bumps your gag reflex. You lurch, but her fingers remain firmly hooked in her mouth. You don’t have the energy to resist her, any coherent thought slipping from your grasp before you can make sense of it. 

“So pretty like this,” She muses. Valeria adjusts you like a doll, one hand grabbing and moving your limbs until you're straddling her thigh. “You know who owns this cunt, don’t you?” Her other hand grips your hip, rolling it against her muscled thigh. Valeria laughs at your garbled moan as pleasure sparks in your core. “Just my stupid little pet that doesn’t know what’s good for her.” 

“M’not,” You slur, fingers curling into the collar of her shirt. She continues the slow pace, occasionally bouncing her knee to relish in your yelps. The heat in your stomach only grows. Electricity shoots up your spine when Valeria perfects the angle, pressing the seam of your pants against your clit just right. You moan around her fingers, lips and chin shiny with spit. In the weeks you spent running, pleasure had been an afterthought. You never had the time or privacy to worry about getting yourself off. The neglect left you swollen, sensitive, and all too receptive to Valeria’s touch. 

“Really?” She coos, slowly pulling her fingers from your mouth. They come to rest on your other hip, fingers dampening the fabric beneath them. “Grinding your cunt on me like a dumb mutt, aren’t you?” With a firmer grip on you, she presses your cunt even harder on her thigh, rocking you back and forth. You mindlessly follow her movements, chasing your high. 

Valeria studies the pinch of your brow and pitch of moans, watching every minute expression that crosses your face. Your thighs tighten around her own, desperately humping at her. Quiet pants escape your swollen lips, your head hangs low, and your eyes shut. The languid pace is entirely your own, she’s barely moving you along.

When your moans take a higher pitch, fingers tugging at her shirt, she knows you're close. Valeria’s hand comes to pull at your hair, tugging your head back and exposing the bare column of your throat. Her jaw clenches upon noticing your collar’s absence. She meets your wide eyes, your scleras flushed red and pupils dilated. Your pace falters, but Valeria prompts you to keep going with a bounce of her leg. 

“Please,” You whimper. “Wanna come.” The desperation in your voice is palpable. It’s pathetic enough to have Valeria pitying you. It’s hard for you to keep your grip on her shirt, your muscles seem to have a mind of their own. Your restrained hands fall to your lap, numb and warm as you continue to grind. 

“Yeah?” She taunts. “You wanna cum on my thigh?” Her fingers dance up your shirt, calluses brushing over your fluttering abdomen as she makes her way to your breasts. You part your lips when her fingers toy with your hardened nipples, plucking and twisting the sensitive buds. 

“Mhmm,” You nod, eyes fluttering shut. Your tongue is too heavy to form a proper response. By now, your head has gone cottony and light, filled with nothing but Val. It’s hard to even remember how you got into this situation or even recognize the dull ache of your bruised ass on every grind. Her body heat is suffocating, the scent of her perfume leaving you drooling. Valeria can see the distant look in your eyes, so she lets your lack of verbal response slide. She dips her head to your shoulder, pressing wet kisses along the curve of your neck.

“Please,” You manage to wail, repeating the word until your voice gives out on you. Valeria’s teeth glint in the moonlight as you come, nipping at the thin skin above your pulse point. Your wetness soaks the crotch of your panties, leaving them wet and sticky along the curve of your folds. The heat bleeds through your pants, warming Valeria’s thigh. 

When your hips stop twitching and your breath slows, you slump into Valeria. The hand beneath your shirt traverses up and down your spine as you hiccup and cry. Shame curdles in your stomach, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. Valeria presses soft kisses to your cheek, slowly making her way to your chapped lips. 

The kiss is sloppy and almost entirely one-sided. You struggle to keep up with her, clumsily tilting your head the wrong way and hardly moving your tongue. Her teeth knock against yours. When you cringe away at the sensation, she follows you, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to break skin. Hands wrap around your upper arms hard enough to bruise, pulling you closer to her. She licks along the sharp edges of your teeth, presses her tongue against yours. You squirm and whine through it all, only settling when she pulls away, a string of blood-tinged saliva connecting you. 

Satisfaction blooms in Valeria’s chest as she meets your teary eyes. You weeks of planning, the effort spent running, all of it was rendered pointless in a matter of minutes. The regret has your chest tightening, wishing you’d fought harder, bared your teeth. It’s too late, you realize as she heaves you to your feet. There’s no chance at escape with the way the room sways, legs weak beneath you. Valeria anchors you to her side just as you're about to fall, pulling you toward the door. Your mind desperately screams to push her away, but you can’t feel your arms anymore. You stumble and trip over the door frame, only held upright by Valeria’s arm around your waist. 

You can’t help but feel like a prisoner approaching the gallows when you see the idling car. Gravel crunches beneath your feet as she drags you forward, ignoring your attempts to dig your heels in. Each step is one step closer back to Las Almas, back to her mansion, to the gilded cage she’ll lock you in. Fear curdles in your stomach, but there’s nothing you can do with Valeria practically pinning you to her side. She pushes you into the car, quickly sliding in next to you and slamming the door shut. The click of the locks cements your fate. Valeria wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close when you try to shuffle away. She barks out orders to the driver. The car shifts gears, quickly leaving the motel and meeting the open road. Valeria murmurs something about going home as your body loosens, her knuckles brushing over your arm. It’s only a matter of minutes before you’re sprawled across the seat, head resting in her lap. The promise of deep, dreamless sleep is irresistable. 

Valeria idly brushes the hair from your face, humming a quiet tune just loud enough for you to hear. For a while, she watches you fight to stay awake, eyes fluttering shut adorably each time you do. She smiles when you finally slip away, that pinched, fearful expression finally leaving your pretty face. It’s the culmination of weeks of work, countless outbursts, and more than a few deaths. You gave a good chase, she’ll admit, but she won. 

Valeria’s sure once the rohypnol’s effects wane, you’ll be back to your feral self. It won’t be easy to earn your submission, but to her, that’s half the fun. Valeria can already hear the foul threats you’ll grunt out from behind your gag, drool dripping down your chin as you pull against your leash. But that’s trouble for another day, another training session. It’ll take more than one session to fully domesticate you, but Valeria is eager for the work ahead. She’s always enjoyed playing with her food. 

[duckchu]

Meeting Heartsteel's family

(Yone, Kayn, Sett, Aphelios)

Some self indulgence in Phel's part but I love him so much kfrkrvwthw

Looking at how many edits I've made, I should really start proofreading lmao. Especially if I write during night or morning

Kayn

He wasn't stressed at all

He loved his dad but didn't care if he didn't accept you

Had to take a whole week off to travel to Zed's home and actually spend some time with him

When you two arrived, you didn't expect his dad to be so...hot?

Of course you wouldn't try anything with your boyfriends dad

You were served a great dinner and then went to rest

Across the next few days you and Zed got to know eachother better, he was glad Kayn finally found someone who could keep him calm...er

After that he frequently texts you to ask about Kayn and you, even though he's busy with his fighting school

Yone

Yasuo lived nearby so he just came over someday and it just happened that you were also over

He was surprised that his older brother managed to keep someone around

When Yone was making dinner, Yasuo kept you entertained with stories from their childhood, which, if Yone would have heard, would have earned him a smack to the head

You learned that Yone was the calmer of the brothers while Yasuo was way more hot headed

Though that didn't bother you, at least for now

Yasuo likes you, he's glad his brother finally found someone who he can trust and who can maybe get him to stop over working himself so much

Sett

He was so nervous before you two got to Mama's house

He kept on stressing about her not liking you

Her opinion was important to him, but not more important than the love he felt for you

His blabbering also made you nervous

When you finally arrived at her house, you were surprised to see a soft looking older woman.

She welcomed you with open arms

She was so nice to you, asking about you, your relationship, but not in an intrusive way

When she asked Sett to help in the kitchen, you wanted to help too, but the kitchen was too small, so you just stood in the doorway and talked with them

You were starting to like her more than Sett honestly

Just joking, but maybe not

He gave you some food to eat later

She really likes you and thinks Sett made a good choice

Aphelios

Since she's the bands manager, you've known Alune since the beginning

You're both chill about eachother, no bad blood

Since you two started dating, she mysteriously always made too much of whatever she was cooking and always told Aphelios to bring the excess to you

It's her way of showing affection

She actually thinks you and Aphelios are a perfect match

Soulmates even

She even calls you sister in law to tease you

Doesn't know you and Phel are secretly engaged

Though she's starting to suspect something

[delulu-with-wandanat]

ok sooo- reader comes home from school with a pet frog and it causes chaos around the household??? And it jumps in the food that Wanda’s making and jumps on Nats keyboard and makes her send a ton of weird stuff in an email 🤭 but then Wanda and Nat tell the reader that they have to put the frog back outside?

THIS IS SO ADORBSS PLEASE- Ok ok I'm really sorry it took SO long, I just recently have much more free time in my hand. I hope you like it!

Reader Description: 14 Years old, Wandanat's Child <3, gender neutral pronouns.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Wanda and Natasha's child is an animal lover. They have the tendency to bring home whatever stray they find, today was no different. They brought home a damn frog.

School was typical, you learn stuff, got in one ear and left on the other. Y/n couldn't wait to get back home. As they were walking home from school, they noticed a little pond. In it was an adorable looking frog just chilling on the leaves.

"Hello you!" They approached the frog slowly, careful not to scare it off. Gently, they bent down to offer their hand and the frog immediately jumps on as if it knows they'll be safe with them.

"Imma call you, Julio." They gently hid the frog in their bag, putting it on top of all the books so it doesn't gets squashed.

In the kitchen of the Romanoff-Maximoff household, two women were enjoying each other's company. One of them was baking, the other was typing an email.

DING!

The timer on the oven went on, Wanda bent down to pull out the tray of cookies she was baking. She put it on the counter and suddenly felt a hand encircling her waist. "Is this your way of charming me so I would let you have the first bite?"

"Is it working?" Natasha asked while nuzzling her nose against her wife's neck, Wanda giggled at the action.

"It is, but it's fresh out of the oven. You will have to wait." Wanda said while leaning her body against Natasha's. Her wife whined while resting her chin on Wanda's shoulder.

"Can't I try it now? It smells so good." It was adorable how different the infamous Black Widow is at home with her loved ones.

Wanda rolled her eyes playfully and turned around to face her, "Patience, my love."

Natasha stared at her with a look that could only be describe as pure love, "Alright. For now then can I get a kiss instead?"

Wanda laughs but leans in anyway to sealed their lips. The two women kissed slowly, there was no rush, and it was full of love. Her hand reached up to circle itself around the former spy's shoulder while Natasha's hand pulled her closer by the waist.

The two Avengers had officially retired, Wanda was first to leave the Avengers. Few years later, Natasha followed suit. They both wanted to focus more on raising their family and be there as much for Y/n, their now 14 year old bundle of joy. Natasha she still helps the Avengers a little, honestly it's hard for that woman to just sit back and relax. However she has taken a more of a 'strategic' position you could say, she's mostly working at home and almost never on the field.

Wanda however, opted to leave that superhero life completely. Catching up on everything she had always wishes to do, while also being a full-time mom. Life is perfect for them.

The two pulled away and rested their foreheads together, Natasha started to sway her slowly while humming some tune. "This is nice."

Wanda had a smile on her face as she was gently being held by her wife, she then recognized the tune Natasha was humming. "The song we played at our wedding?"

"Mmmhmm." Natasha pulled back to look at her wife lovingly. Despite them being together for such a long time, Natasha couldn't help but fall in love all over again for the woman in front of her. Natasha leaned in to kiss the slope of Wanda's nose.

"I love you, Natty."

Natasha laughs slightly at the nickname. She remembered all those years ago she almost shipped Wanda to another country just for calling her Nat. "I love you too, so much." Natasha gave her another kiss, "More than I could ever express with words."

She poured all her love into the kiss, the immense feelings she had for this woman. Natasha would go hell and back for her, and Wanda would do the same. If needed, Wanda would destroy the multiverse just for her. They love they shared was something no one could ever match.

"I'm home!!" A voice was heard followed by the sound of their front door closing.

The two woman smiled hearing their bundle of joy home safe. Wanda, the ever so loving mom, was the first to greet them. "Welcome home darling! How was school?" She asked as Y/n entered the kitchen.

"Hi mama!" Y/n said while hugging Wanda, "School was just school." They moved across the kitchen and hugged their other mom, "I got into the softball team though!"

Natasha gave her a kiss on top of their head, "Well done my darling cub! I'm so proud of you."

Y/n sniffed the air and smelled their mother's baking, "MMMMM" their eyes darted quickly to the tray of cookies on the counter. "I want one!" They tried to take one but their mother quickly stood between between Y/n and the cookies with her hand on her hips.

"Nu uh!" Wanda exclaimed, "Did you get the thing I asked you?"

"What thing?" Her child looked at her, confused. Wanda merely raised an eyebrow, "Ohhhhh... Ughhh fine, I'll be right back." They quickly grabbed their wallet from their backpack, leaving it open on the countertop beside Natasha's laptop, and went back out to buy the eggs their mother had requested.

"You know if you need it that badly, I could've gone out and get it for you." Natasha said while leaning against the counter with her infamous smirk.

"And you say I spoil them too much?"

Natasha chuckles and moved to stand beside her wife who was now preparing to chop some onions. "It's almost time to do some groceries shopping anyway, if anything, I'm spoiling my beautiful wife."

"Mmmm, what would I do without you?" Wanda said while giving her a kiss.

"What are we cooking next, Malysh?"

"Well, there's this recipe I've been wanting to try. And-" As the two woman chatter, unbeknownst to them, Julio the frog had popped out of it's prison. Hopping out of the bag, Julio took in its surroundings.

What a weird place?

Decide is not necessarily the right term, but the frog jumped onto Natasha's laptop. Causing the random keys to be pressed, it continued its journey around the surface before it decided to hop across.

Natasha suddenly felt a notification on her phone, she checked it and her eyes narrows in confusion. "What the hell?" She quickly went back to her laptop to check on the email she was writing, "Why did it sent??"

Hearing her wife's frustration, Wanda glanced at Natasha. "What's the matter?"

Natasha cursed under her breath, "I need to check my laptop for virus. It's opening a bunch of weird apps, and sending gibberish emails."

Wanda's face scrunched up in confusion, "I thought SHIELD would provide you with top of the line anti-virus software?"

"Precisely my point, if it's a virus, whoever it is they're up to no good."

While Natasha did her thing, Julio manages to reach Wanda's prepped ingredients. Wanda however was still focused on Natasha, feeling a slight anxiety that someone something might be trying to attack them.

"Find anything?" Wanda asked.

Natasha's eyes was still fixated on the laptop, "No, I can't find any trace leading to them. They're sloppy, but good."

Meanwhile the culprit was still hopping around the kitchen counter, "Well maybe you should call-" Wanda's sentence was cut off with a yelp, hearing her wife's sudden squeal, Natasha glanced in her direction.

"What, what's wrong?"

"Ew! shoo- SHOO!!" Wanda yelled in disgust, "No- NO get away from there!" Natasha was quick to be at her side to asses the situation.

"Honey, what are you-"

"Ge- GET THE FROG!" Natasha quickly saw it and almost burst out laughing.

"Lyubov, It's just a-"

"Tasha, get the damn frog before I make you sleep on the couch!" Wanda said strictly, Natasha quickly obliged, she darted forward but Julio continued to hop around. "Don't let it touch my cookies!"

Natasha manages to pull the trays of cookies away before the tiny frog could jump on it. However despite the tray having some time to cool down, after holding it for a while Natasha's hand started to burn. "Ouch!" She hastily dropped it on the kitchen island.

"Tasha, TASHA!!!" Wanda squealed as she kept an eagle eye on the frog. Watching it continue to hop around like nothing matters.

"Honey, relax I got it." Natasha tried to calm her down and tried to move swiftly to catch the frog. But damn, the fucker was too good. Even for the Black Widow.

It took them a few minutes to finally catch the culprit. It was mostly spent on Wanda pointing and shouting, while Natasha tries to figure out a way to catch the little bastard. Julio was now trapped inside a container box, yet this son of a bitch is just chilling there as if nothing happened.

"What's... going on??" They heard a voice asked, the two mothers glanced at their child who was was standing on the entrance of the kitchen holding a carton of eggs.

Natasha let out a long breath, "We're alright honey, just a little kitchen accident."

Y/n's face quickly twisted into concern, "Are you guys hurt?"

"No, Detka, it's not that. There was a frog."

Y/n snorted, "A frog?" then realization hit them. Y/n quickly moved to check their bag whilst putting down the carton of eggs on the countertop. Surely enough, Julio was gone.

Natasha, knowing her own child, quickly pieced the puzzle. "Detka... Explanation, now." She said while crossing her arms.

"Hehe, Julio caused this little incident?"

"Christ you even gave it a name-" Natasha rubbed her temple, she loved their child. But holyshit, a damn frog?

"Y/n, you can't just keep bringing animals here!" Wanda scolded them.

"But it looked so adorable!"

"Detka..." Natasha sighed, "Put this frog outside please."

"But Momm-"

"No buts!" Natasha said strictly, Y/n begrudgingly approached the trapped Julio. Who is still sitting calmly, slimy bastard. They carefully slipped the cover underneath it to carry the little frog outside.

"And you're going back to the grocery store after this." Wanda said.

"Why didn't you just text me the extra things you needed?"

"I initially didn't need it until your little friend here decided to jump on my food."

Y/n sheepishly smiled, "Hehe, love you mama." They put on an innocent face.

Wanda sighed, she really can't stay mad at them. "I love you too. Now get that frog out."

Y/n walked out to the backyard while mumbling, "This frog has a name..."

Once Y/n was out of earshot, the two mothers stared at one another and laughed softly. Truth to be told they found the whole thing amusing.

"I think it's time we consider getting them a pet to take care of." Natasha said.

"Are you sure they're responsible enough for that?"

Natasha shrugged, "Only one way to find out. Beside, I'd rather have them being too busy taking care of a pet than suddenly bringing home a bunch of cockroach."

Wanda shivers at the mention of that, "I see your point."

They glanced outside the window to see Y/n ever so gently letting the frog out of the container. It seems like they're... talking to it. Wanda wrapped an arm around Natasha's waist and leaned her head on her shoulder. "It's so adorable how gentle they are with it."

"'This 'it' has a name, y'know?" Natasha joked slightly, Wanda pinched her wife's side causing Natasha to jump a little. But they both had a huge smile plastered on their face.

Natasha wraps her arms around Wanda as well, making Wanda nestle to her even more. "I guess a little puppy doesn't sound so bad."

"Mhmmm..." Natasha hummed in agreement. "Or a cat."

Looks like there will be a new addition to the Romanoff-Maximoff family.

Here you go! I hope you liked it, im so sorry it took so long to make :( But I love writing about Wandanat x Child!Reader, it brings me so much comfort!!!!

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just wants to make you as happy as you make him, and he hates it when you won't even let him try. But when your frustration boils over, you snap at the person you believe deserves it the most.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You had been foolishly holding out hope. Until your period actually began, you'd been telling yourself that maybe there was still a chance. Maybe you had just taken the pregnancy test too early. Maybe you got a false negative.

So when you woke up for work on Monday and needed a tampon, you scolded yourself for your optimism. There was no point in it, because it only made you feel worse in the long-run. 

Bradley rubbed your shoulders and kissed your neck as you put your contacts in at the bathroom vanity. You looked gross. You were bloated, and your face was broken out. You vowed to stick to a better diet until you lost some weight. 

"Morning, Baby Girl," he murmured against your ear. It wasn't even fair. You wanted him all the time. He was perfect all the time. His voice gave you chills. 

"Morning," you whispered. "My period started." Your voice shook pathetically. 

"It's okay," he promised. "It's going to be okay." 

But you really felt like it wasn't. And work was pissing you off. When you got to your lab, you remembered that you and Cat were going to be spending the day working on proposals together. Great. 

"Did you have fun at the Hard Deck?" you asked her, practically throwing your computer onto the counter next to hers. 

She looked up at you, and you could tell she wanted to roll her eyes. "It was fun," she replied. "Not really my scene, but I can see where it would be yours."

You wanted to ask her what that was supposed to mean, but you bit your tongue. You wouldn't give her the satisfaction of thinking you cared about her opinion of you. And you were definitely going to have to tell Jake to get a crush on a hot looking woman who was actually nice, because you'd had just about enough of this. He had bugged you all night at the bar to introduce him to Cat again. He asked you about her all the time, but there was nothing to tell.

You took a seat and pounded away at your keyboard, working all morning while trying to ignore your cramps and your irritation with the woman next to you. Neither of you spoke a word about anything personal. It was all professional. When you noticed that it was noon, you said, "Let's take a break," in as bright a voice as you could.

Jake was waiting in the doorway for you. Or maybe he was just trying to catch a glimpse of Cat. But regardless, when you approached him, he smiled and handed you a container of soup from the cafeteria. "Angel. Let's eat in your office," he drawled. And when Cat breezed past him, he murmured, "Hi, Lieutenant Coleman."

She smirked in response, and Jake turned to watch her walk the entire way down the hall. "You're such a dog," you told him, inspecting the soup and finding it was chicken noodle. "You just need to get laid. Go to the bar tonight. There'll be a line of girls waiting for you."

He met your eyes and shook his head. "I'm not really doing that anymore."

You snorted as he followed you to your office. "Could you imagine if I agreed to go out with you? Bradley and I would have never happened after that."

Jake kicked his booted foot along your office floor before he plopped down into your extra chair. "Yeah, well... he'd have likely killed me if we went out. But, hey, you're not listening to me, Angel. Tell me more about Cat Coleman."

You sighed and ate some soup. "She's mean to me, okay? She doesn't like me."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true. She's so bitchy to me but nice to everyone else. She makes fun of the way I work. She won't eat lunch with me. She avoids me all the time. She hates me."

You swallowed another spoonful of soup, and tears immediately sprung to your eyes. You looked up at Jake, and you knew he could tell something was wrong immediately. When he jumped to his feet, you tried to wave him off, but he was kneeling next to your chair and rubbing your hand before you knew it. 

"What happened?" he asked softly. When you didn't respond, he gave you a few seconds before asking, "Do you want me to go get Rooster?"

"No," you croaked, your throat burning with the effort to talk. "I'm fine."

"You do not sound fine. You can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I'm all ears."

And he just knelt there next to you while you told him how much you hated going to your lab now. And you told him that you had your period. And then you said, "Bradley and I are trying to start a family, but it's just not happening."

"Hey," he said, letting you cry it out. "You and Bradley are already a family. Plus, you've got Tramp. And Nat and I are like siblings you guys never even wanted."

You kind of shrugged at him. "It's not the same thing."

"I know that, but sometimes it takes time," he told you.

"It's been four months," you whispered. 

Jake stood up and pulled you to your feet, and then he wrapped you in a hug so tight, his name tag was digging into your collarbone. "Just give it some time. You want me to talk to Rooster?"

"No. Let's just finish eating lunch."

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

Bradley had been trying all week. Kissing along your neck and rubbing your hips through your khakis while you made dinner. But you finally snapped at him on Wednesday night when you were trying to cut up some sun dried tomatoes for the Marry Me Rooster he had requested. 

"I'm trying to cook dinner, Bradley. Yes, I realize you're trying to get me in the mood. Yes, I can feel your erection. No, I don't want to have sex. I look gross, and I feel gross." You set down your knife and turned to face him. He had taken one huge step away from you, and now he was looking at you with the saddest brown eyes. 

"I'm sorry," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair as he walked down the hallway toward your bedroom. 

"Shit," you whispered as you rushed after him. "I'm sorry."

He was standing next to the bed unbuttoning his uniform shirt when you walked in and headed right for him. But he didn't say anything, just yanked his shirt off and tossed it onto the bed. The sight of him in his khaki pants and black undershirt had you sucking in a deep breath. It wasn't that you didn't want him. You just didn't even want yourself right now.

"Bradley," you whispered. 

"Nah. I'm going to go workout in the garage," he told you, stripping out of his pants and digging in a drawer for some gym shorts. "I'll eat later. Don't wait for me."

You watched him walk back out of the room. Then he called for Tramp, and you heard the sliding glass door open and then close. You went back to the kitchen and finished making dinner. You had to fight the urge to go out to the garage and get Bradley, because somehow you knew you'd just end up making things worse. You made him a beautiful plate of dinner and left it on the island. And then you got yourself ready for bed. You were no longer hungry. 

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

Bradley was stressing out. He could feel his composure crumbling as every maneuver he performed in the air was wrong. Everything felt wrong. It was like he and his Super Hornet were out of sync. Like he couldn't trust himself. 

"What are you doing, Rooster?" Phoenix asked him through the comms. But Bradley didn't even know how to respond, because he hadn't been paying attention. He was distracted. He was never like this in the air. 

And then he heard Maverick call his team back to the ground, and he knew it was his fault. He wished he could take all of the pushups for Phoenix and Bob as well, but it was a team effort after all. So Bradley had to try to keep calm while he could feel them glaring at him through all two hundred pushups.

He had been like this all week. Nothing made as much sense to him as flying did. Well, other than you. But things had been a little rough and unpredictable at home. He wasn't really trying to do it, but he had begun to memorize when you were ovulating and when your period was due. Fucking you was no chore, but he was absolutely ready for you to miss a period. He was obsessed with the idea of you showing him a positive pregnancy test. But it just... wasn't happening yet.

And now he was putting pressure on himself. Because he knew he was a ticking time bomb. He felt it in his bones. Any day now, he would be getting deployment papers. And then you would be alone for who knows how long. Weeks or months. Bradley would be on an aircraft carrier in the Pacific Ocean, and you would be at home, worrying about him. And the mission to make a baby would be put on hold, replaced by a different kind of mission.

The thing was, all of this was bothering him a hell of a lot more now, because it was bothering you so much. 

Bradley slammed his locker closed only to find Jake standing there. "You better pull it together, Bradshaw," he said so calmly that it pissed Bradley off even more. "Or you're going to get grounded."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Bradley asked, getting in his face. "Do you think I don't know I'm flying like shit right now?"

But Jake didn't move an inch, and his expression didn't change. "I think whatever is bothering you... well, you should take it home to your wife. Angel will help you feel better."

Bradley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning against his locker with his fist clenched. "She's part of the fucking problem," Bradley growled, and he watched Jake's eyes grow wide. 

Jake gaped at him before he said, "I can't think of a single time you've ever said something like that about her." His feelings seemed to be hurt on your behalf, but Bradley didn't know how to explain how he felt. 

"When she puts pressure on herself, all I want is to relieve it for her," he told Jake softly, trying to unclench his fist. "But I can't. She won't let me."

Jake sighed. "I think I know what it's about. She's been pretty upset. Tried to tell her it's not her fault, but I can tell she's blaming herself."

Bradley could feel his cheeks flushing. You and Jake were close. The other man probably did know some details about your intimate moments with Bradley which was kind of mortifying. However, Bradley would never want you to feel like you couldn't confide in someone you trusted. It was just hard to gasp that Jake was oftentimes that person for you. 

"We just want to have a baby," Bradley growled. 

"It's only been a few months," Jake reminded him. "Deep down, Angel knows it takes time."

Bradley looked up at the flickering fluorescent bulb. "Sometimes I feel like I'm never doing enough for her," he whispered, grabbing his bag and brushing past Jake. 

But he almost ran into Payback on his way out. "What are you still doing here, man?" he asked with a grin. "If I had a girl as hot as your wife, I'd be home by now, pumping her full of babies."

The urge to punch his friend directly in the face was so strong, Bradley had to bite his lip and keep moving. He needed to get home to you but not take this out on you. That would be unacceptable. Because while you were adding to his stress, he would never tell you that. 

You were already home when he walked inside, and Bradley had to try to fight for composure. "Hi," he managed to say. Of course you looked impossibly cute, laying with Tramp on the couch in Bradley's oversized UVA tee and a pair of his boxer briefs. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep his hands off you right now, but you'd been distant with him for more than a week. 

"How was your day?" you asked him softly.

Somehow your sweet voice just made him angry. Your voice and your gorgeous face and the way he could see your nipples through the shirt. And Bradley couldn't help himself. His voice was rough to his own ears, and he sounded mad. "My day fucking sucked. It was terrible," he growled. "I flew like an asshole. I got everyone assigned to pushups. I was so distracted from work, thinking about you."

Your eyes were wide as you sat up. "Thinking about me?" Tramp jumped to the floor and ran over to sniff at Bradley's boots as he untied them. 

"Yeah," he grunted, wrestling out of his flight suit and tossing it to a heap on the floor. His skin felt too hot. He needed to go for a run or lift weights. "I told you I think about you all the damn time. And today, trust me, I wish I hadn't been."

"What does that mean?" you asked him, standing up between the couch and the coffee table, your lips forming a little pout. 

Bradley yanked his undershirt off as well, standing just inside the front door in only his compression shorts and his socks. "It means I'm mad because you won't let me try to make you feel better! You don't even want to talk to me, but you'll talk to Jake! I'm fucking pissed that you're skipping meals and ditching me for lunch every day!"

Bradley took off toward the bedroom, leaving you behind. He was afraid of what else he was going to say if he didn't get some space to himself right now. And the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry. But when he got into the bedroom to get some workout clothes, you followed him. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered, biting your lip and looking at him with wide eyes.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked loudly, slamming his drawer shut instead of actually pulling anything out of it. "Tell me."

"I'm sorry I've been shutting you out, Roo." You took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry I haven't been eating lunch with you. I know we can keep trying, but when I get my period now, I panic."

"You panic and talk to Jake," Bradley growled. When you simply nodded, his blood boiled. He knew he was red in the face as he closed the distance to you. The words were there before he could take them back. "If you want to talk to Jake all the time, maybe you should have married him."

Your lips parted soundlessly, and then you moaned. A needy sound, from the back of your throat. One that had Bradley's cock stirring immediately. 

"I don't want him. I've never wanted him. I just want you."

"Do you want me right now, Baby Girl? Because I wanna fuck you right here," he said as calmly as he could, but his voice was still gruff and unsteady. "You're going to have to tell me to go out back to the garage if you want me to keep my hands to myself. Okay? Because I want my wife. But I will settle for my hand and then the bench press if you don't want me back."

You whimpered, reaching for the hem of the tee shirt and guiding it up over your hips. "I am so turned on," you whispered. "Please."

"Please what?" Bradley demanded, running his hand along his cock through his shorts. 

"Daddy," you gasped in shock. Like you couldn't even believe you said it to him. Like you needed him as badly as he needed you. "Fuck me."

"Baby Girl," he whispered harshly as he pressed himself against you.

You yanked the shirt over your head and pulled his boxer briefs down over your delicious hips as you moaned, "I want my husband."

His cock was fully at attention now as he stroked your dainty Rooster tattoo with his fingertips. "I'm right here," he growled, watching you step out of his underwear and kick them aside. Your eyes were wide and fixed on his as you stood naked before him. "You gonna let me take care of you?"

"Yes," you gasped when he moved his hand to your pussy. "Are you still angry, Daddy? From your bad day?"

Bradley raised one eyebrow. He knew how he sounded. He knew he was breathing heavily. He also felt how fucking wet you were as he slid his middle finger along your slit. 

"Do you want me to be?" he asked before placing a rough kiss to your lips. 

"Yes," you moaned, and in one swift movement, Bradley had the front of your body pressed up against the wall next to the bedroom door. You squealed and braced yourself with both hands as he gently kicked your legs a little further apart. 

"You like making me this way?" he growled next to your ear before sucking hard on your neck. "I think you do."

Bradley reached his hands up to squeeze your tits as you whined his name. He stroked your nipples softly with his thumbs while he sucked on your neck some more. 

Then he took his cock in his right hand and guided himself to your opening. He filled you in one swift motion, and started fucking you so hard, your face almost hit the wall. He caught you with his hand on your jaw as you whimpered for him. 

"You think it's fun to get me all pissed off at work?" he asked, low and soft. "You love having so much control over me, don't you?"

"I do," you whispered as he turned your face so you were looking at him over your shoulder. 

"You love knowing I think about your voice during lectures. Think about your body when I'm flying. I can't stop thinking about how much I love fucking you," he said, his voice getting louder as he pressed his forehead against your perfect cheek and brushed his fingers over your tattoo before stroking your clit.

You cried out for him. "I do, Daddy! I love it!"

Bradley was determined to get you off. He wouldn't have a repeat of the dining room floor. Not today. He went a little harder, a little deeper. He listened to the incoherent words tumbling out of your mouth. And then he said, "Try and find someone better than me. Someone else who can fuck you this good. You can't."

"No!" you grunted, your fingers bending, nails digging into the wall. You were struggling to look at him as your eyes fluttered closed. 

He kissed along your jaw before ending at your ear and whispering, "I love you." And then he felt it. That beautiful clench of your pussy as you came for him. He knew the feel of you so well. He wanted to take care of everything for you. He needed to give you everything you wanted. Be everything you needed. 

He came for you too, hands drifting to your hips as his movements slowed. You were unsteady on your feet as you turned to face him. Bradley's cum was dripping down your legs and onto the floor as you reached for him. Then you were in his arms, kissing him just right with your fingers in his hair. And he couldn't remember why he'd been upset in the first place. 

"I love you," you whispered against his lips. Bradley stumbled back onto the bed with you wrapped up with him. When he fell back with you on top of him, you laughed. 

"Come here," he coaxed, and you straddled his waist and kissed him until your lips were puffy. When he tried to move, you held him down and kissed him some more. He felt himself relax completely with every little sound you made and every swipe of your tongue against his. 

"Roo," you crooned, your lips moving to his neck and kissing him softly there.

He groaned and started to sit up. "What's it called when the foreplay comes after sex?"

You giggled. "Post play?"

"Shit, Sweetheart," he said, letting you keep going with your lips. "You want more?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed against his skin, setting his nerve endings ablaze. 

"Give me a minute, and I'll take care of you again."

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

You were sore on Monday morning. In the best kind of way. You and Bradley had spent the weekend talking and having sex. And then having more sex. Only taking a break to go grocery shopping and swing by the Hard Deck. Jake knew right away that you were both feeling much better. He was always so patient with you that you found it hard not to smile when he bought you and Bradley beers. 

You needed to be more open with Bradley. And you would be. And starting today, you'd meet him and Nat in the cafeteria unless you really were honestly working through lunch instead of hiding in your office. You just needed to get through your morning with Cat. Which was easier said than done.

She gave you short answers to every question. When you asked her to type up some of the notes you wrote, she looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "Shouldn't you have typed this up yourself?"

You sighed. "I worked it up over the weekend. In my free time. I read it to my husband as I wrote it, and it seemed to flow easier when I wrote it."

She scrutinized your notebook. "Well I can barely read it. I'll work in the code while you type it up. I'm better at the code anyway."

Was she implying she was better at coding than typing? Or that she was better at coding than you were? She made you so mad. The next time Jake mentioned how beautiful her eyes were, you were going to pummel him. 

Everyone else had already deserted the lab when you realized what time it was. "Should we take a lunch break?" you asked, scrambling to lock up your computer. Bradley and the others were probably waiting for you already. You did not want to disappoint him today. Not after such a perfect weekend. 

"Fine," Cat agreed. Her tone was short, like you were throwing off her entire day by deciding to take lunch at lunchtime. 

You squared your shoulders and turned to face her as she stood up. Then you blurted out, "I don't understand what I did to make you dislike me."

Cat froze in place, her eyes appraising your face. You felt the prickle of embarrassment along your skin, and you were afraid she was going to laugh in your face. But she just shook her head slowly. "I don't dislike you."

"Yes, you do," you scoffed, your embarrassment swiftly replaced with annoyance. 

"No, Lieutenant Commander. I do not," she said, firmly closing her computer. Then she went off, and you didn't stop her. "But your life is so perfect, it's honestly hard for me to relate to you. Even at work. Your husband dotes on you. He's always in the lab, bringing you snacks and asking you about your day. You've got Seresin in here all the time, too. And you're the golden child. Bickel sings your praises at the meetings every week."

Your eyes were bugging out. "But, that's not-"

She cut you off and kept going. "You and I both have the same master's degree, but I'm a year older than you, and you outrank me." Her voice sounded bitter as she said, "I'm a single mom. My life is a mess. I'm broke. We live with my uncle. I feel like a joke all the time. But your life is perfect. And trust me, I wish more than anyone else that I wasn't jealous of you." 

You stood completely still and watched her walk out of the lab and disappear down the hallway. Your life was not perfect. The fact that it maybe looked that way to someone else shocked you. Cat thought she was a mess. Well, you were a mess, too. But she was a mom. 

A moment later, you followed her down the hallway toward the cafeteria where Bradley was waiting for you with a smile on his face and a bottle of your favorite hot sauce on his tray.

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

Oh. Cat's a little jelly of BG. Well, Cat... BG just might be a little jelly of you. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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[realhotgirlshitah]

Hii, love your vlog!!!

So I was thinking about bimbo!reader giving hints to Ethan about how much she wants him, but him being clueless, because he doesn't think she can be into him. Until one day reader loss it and says something like 'can you stf an fuck me?!'

If you're not comfortable it's okay, no problem girl, just a brainrot ❤️❤️

Thanks for the request anon, I’m actually a slut so I had no problem writing this! Unfortunately I am also a lazy slut which is why it took me a week to release this, my bad!

Hints and misses 🎀💋

Warnings: Oral (fem and male receiving) facesitting, subby Ethan, missionary, riding, Ethan is a bit of a loser but he is also a MUNCH because I said so and my word is law.

You weren’t really the “studious” type, and everyone knew it. Sure, you just about passed your classes, but economics? Yeah, that wasn’t your thing. Honestly, you had no idea what was going on half the time. So when Chad suggested his nerdy roommate Ethan help you out, you jumped at the chance. Not because you were desperate to understand supply and demand curves, but because you had the biggest crush on Ethan. There was something about his awkwardness that you found absolutely irresistible.

It wasn’t just that he was smart—like, really smart—but he was the kind of guy who didn’t even realize how hot he was. Ethan Landry was a virgin in every sense of the word and had clearly never felt the touch of a woman and it turned you on beyond belief. The way he would stumble over his words, run his hands hurriedly through his curls when he was nervous, the way his cheeks flushed when you got too close to him… it was all too much. You had been flirting with him for months, making it blatantly obvious that you wanted him. But for some reason, he never seemed to get the hint no matter how hard you tried.

And trust me, you tried.

Hard.

For example, one night, the group was talking about “types” during a chill hangout. When Ethan made a self-deprecating joke about how “nerds aren’t usually anyone’s type,” you decided it was the perfect opportunity.

“I love nerds,” you declared, looking right at him, resting your hand on his arm for emphasis. “Like, so much. I mean, smart guys are, like, totally my thing.”

Ethan gave a shy smile. “Oh, that’s nice! Nerds are great, right? They’re super focused… like when they’re playing Dungeons & Dragons or calculating statistical probabilities.”

“Yes!” you said, inching closer. “I love a guy who’s, like, super focused… and intense… and maybe even obsessed, y’know?”

He grinned, eyes lighting up. “That’s awesome! You should totally play D&D with us sometime. It takes hours, but it’s so fun.”

You opened your mouth, ready to explain that the only dungeon you were interested in involved a certain bedroom vibe, but he was already lost in thought, excitedly talking about character stats.

Or that one time when you convinced Ethan to go for ice cream with you. You wore your shortest denim skirt and leaned in every chance you got, licking your ice cream cone with obvious intent.

“So, Ethan,” you said, licking the ice cream slowly and giving him a very suggestive look. “Do you like… really sweet things?”

He smiled, nodding enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah! I love sweets. Did you know the chemical structure of sugar is actually super interesting?”

You blinked, holding back a sigh. “Uh-huh… fascinating. But what if, like, someone sweet wanted to… share ice cream with you?” You held out your cone, winking.

Ethan just looked at you, confused. “But we have our own cones…?”

At this point, you just stared at him, open-mouthed, while Mindy fell off the bench laughing behind you.

“Oh fuck you, Mindy, go suck a dick or something,” you glared witheringly at your friend.

“I’m literally a lesbian but at this rate, I have a higher chance of sucking a dick than you have hooking up with Landry,” she snorted from the ground.

You were sick and tired of Ethan not catching your very blatant hints. You wanted that man and TRUST, you were going to have him.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror before he came over, adjusting your low-cut pink top, making sure it showed just enough cleavage. You tugged at the hem of your skirt, smirking at how short it was, and checked your lip gloss one last time. You weren’t here to actually learn anything tonight. You had a much better plan in mind.

When Ethan knocked on your door, you could already feel that familiar flutter of excitement in your stomach. You opened the door, beaming at him. “Hey, Ethan! Thanks sooo much for coming over to help me. I’ve been, like, totally lost in this class.”

He smiled nervously, awkward as ever, and adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “Uh, yeah, no problem. Economics can be a bit tricky if you’re not used to it.”

You led him inside, swaying your hips a little more than usual, knowing full well he’d notice. His eyes flickered to your outfit for a split second before he quickly looked away, his face already turning pink.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” you suggested, sitting down with your legs crossed in a way that showed off just enough thigh. “I’ve got, like, all my notes, but I don’t really get it. You’re, like, sooo much smarter than me, Ethan.”

He sat beside you, setting his textbook on the coffee table, his fingers twitching nervously. “You’re not—uh, you’re smart. You just need someone to explain it differently.”

You blinked at him, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. He was cute when he tried to be nice. “You’re sweet. But seriously, I don’t get any of this stuff.”

Ethan opened his book, flipping to a page covered in graphs. He started talking about supply and demand curves, how prices shifted when supply or demand increased. You were trying to focus—you really were—but the way his voice rumbled softly as he explained things, the way his curls flopped over his eyes every now and then, made it impossible for you to concentrate on anything other than how hot he looked.

You leaned a little closer, pretending to look at the graph he was pointing to. “Mmm, yeah, sure. That makes sense, I guess,” you mumbled, not even paying attention to what he was saying anymore. Your eyes were glued to the way his lips moved when he talked, and you felt heat pool in your stomach. You bit your lip, completely distracted by the way his hands moved across the page, how his fingers flexed as he explained some concept you were completely ignoring.

Fuck he was such a loser, you needed him CARNALLY.

“And so, when the price of a good increases…” Ethan continued, completely oblivious to your internal meltdown.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had been dropping hints for months—months! And he still didn’t get it. He still thought you wanted his help with homework when all you really wanted was him. The frustration built up until you snapped.

“Ethan, can you shut the fuck up and just fuck me?”

The words left your mouth before you even realized it, and suddenly the room was dead silent. Ethan froze mid-sentence, his hand still hovering over the page, his eyes wide as he turned to look at you.

“Wait… what?” His voice cracked slightly, his face flushing bright red. He looked so bewildered, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer to you. “I said, shut the fuck up and fuck me, Ethan.” Your voice was firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “I don’t care about this stupid homework. I’ve been dropping hints for ages, and you’ve been completely clueless! I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out, but you’re, like, so dense.”

His eyes widened even more, if that was even possible. He stammered, “But—but why would you—I mean, you’re… you’re you, and I’m just…”

“Oh my god, stop,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “You’re smart, you’re hot, and I want you. I’ve wanted you for months. How have you not figured this out?”

Ethan looked like his brain had short-circuited. “You… you want me?”

“Yes! Duh!” You were getting impatient now. “Look at me, Ethan. I don’t dress like this because I care about economics. I dressed like this for you. I’ve been flirting with you, touching you, sitting as close to you as possible, and you just… never got it.”

He blinked rapidly, looking completely dumbfounded. “But… I thought… someone like you would never want… someone like me.”

You groaned in frustration. “Why the hell not? You’re cute! You’re smart! And you’re, like, sooo sexy when you talk about all this stuff. Do you know how hot you are when you start explaining things? It gets my pussy so wet all I wanna do is fuckin ruin you!”

Ethan’s face was a deep shade of red now, and he still looked like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. “I… I had no idea.”

“Well, now you do,” you said, your voice softening as you grabbed his hand and placed it on your waist. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

He stared at you, his hand trembling slightly as it rested against your waist. “I—I don’t know what to say. I mean… I’ve never…”

You smirked, leaning in until your lips were barely an inch from his. “You don’t have to say anything, Ethan. Just kiss me.”

For a second, it looked like he was still processing everything, but then, finally, he leaned in, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss was messy, nervous, but filled with all the pent-up tension that had been building between you for months. You moaned softly into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, pressing your body against his.

Ethan’s hands were tentative at first, unsure of where to touch, but you guided them, placing them on your hips and encouraging him to explore. His touch was hesitant, but it sent shivers down your spine all the same. He pulled away from the kiss, breathless, his eyes wide with wonder.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You grinned, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Believe it, nerd. Now, stop thinking so much and just fuck me.”

“Can I- can you- please teach me how to make you feel good?” The way the question filled the empty room caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting your innocent friend to ask something like that! But the grin that spread across your face was practically sinister. You wanted this bad.

Before he knew it, Ethan was being dragged to your bedroom, still in complete and utter shock at how this was happening and how your clothes were already coming off.

You lay back against the pillows, watching as Ethan hovered between your legs, his breath shaky but his eyes filled with a nervous determination. He looked at you, clearly waiting for more instruction, his fingers trembling slightly as they rested on your thighs.

You smiled, your voice soft but teasing. “Don’t be so nervous, Ethan. Just do what feels natural.”

He swallowed hard, then nodded, leaning down until his mouth was just a breath away from you. His first kiss against your skin was gentle, almost tentative, but the sensation sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

Ethan paused, his breath warm against you, then he dove back in, his tongue tentatively exploring you. His movements were slow at first, unsure, but you could feel how eager he was, how desperate he was to make sure he got it right. His inexperience didn’t matter—what mattered was the intensity of his focus, how every little sound you made seemed to spur him on.

“Just like that,” you moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair, guiding him. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

The praise seemed to light a fire in him. You could feel him getting bolder, his tongue moving with more confidence as he began to lose himself in the moment. He was so eager, so focused on your pleasure that it made your head spin. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he licked and sucked at your core, his pace quickening.

Ethan’s breath was coming in quick, desperate pants between strokes of his tongue. You could hear him whimpering softly against you, his lips wet and swollen from the effort, but he didn’t stop. In fact, he only grew more frantic as you moaned and gasped above him.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure began to roll through your body. “Ethan… yes…”

His response was a low, needy moan that vibrated through you. His enthusiasm was overwhelming, his tongue moving faster, sloppier, as he became more desperate. He was whimpering between kisses, his grip on your thighs tightening, and you realized with a jolt that he was grinding against the bed, trying to relieve some of the tension building inside him.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” you gasped, your voice shaking as you felt the heat building inside you. “Keep going… don’t stop…”

Ethan let out another whimper, his tongue working you over with renewed intensity as you praised him. His hips rocked against the bed, his moans growing louder, more desperate. He was lost in it now—lost in your taste, in the feeling of your body responding to him, in the need to make you feel good.

“T-Thank you,” he mumbled against your skin, his words muffled by the wet sounds of his mouth on you. “You taste… so fucking good…”

You glanced down at him, breathless and dazed by the sight. His face was flushed, his lips glistening with your slick, and his eyes were heavy-lidded with lust. He looked completely wrecked, and it only made you want him more.

“Oh my god, Ethan,” you moaned, your fingers tightening in his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth. “You’re making me… oh fuck…”

He groaned in response, his movements growing even sloppier as he chased your pleasure with an almost frantic urgency. His whimpers were constant now, his entire body trembling as he worked himself against the bed, desperate for release. But even as he lost control, he never stopped focusing on you, on your pleasure.

You could feel the pressure building inside you, the heat coiling tighter and tighter with every stroke of his tongue. Ethan’s hands were gripping your thighs so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was making you feel—the way his eagerness, his desperation, was pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh god, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, your entire body trembling as you neared the brink. “Ethan, don’t stop…”

He didn’t stop. In fact, he only grew more frantic, his tongue working you over with a kind of raw desperation that made your head spin. He moaned against you, the sound vibrating through your body, and it was enough to send you spiraling over the edge.

You came with a loud cry, your body arching off the bed as pleasure crashed over you in waves. Ethan kept going, his tongue relentless as he worked you through your orgasm, his whimpers of pleasure blending with your moans.

But even as your body began to relax, as the pleasure ebbed, Ethan didn’t stop. He was still going, his tongue slower now but just as eager, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You could feel him trembling, hear his soft whimpers, and when you glanced down at him, you saw that his lips were swollen, glistening, his eyes half-closed with lust.

“Ethan!” you finally gasped, tugging gently on his curls to pull him away, your own body still trembling. “You need to stop…”

But he looked up at you, completely dazed, his lips covered with your slick, and there was a desperate need in his gaze. “No, please,” he whined, his voice thick with desire. “I want more… let me do it again. Sit on my face, please.”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, completely dazed. He looked unrecognisable—his hair messy from your hands, face smeared with your juices and his eyes blown wide with lust. And yet, he was still begging for more, desperate to make you feel good again.

You smirked, your heart racing as you considered his request. “You want me to sit on your face, huh?”

Ethan nodded eagerly, his hands already reaching for your hips. “Please,” he whimpered again, his voice filled with need. “I want to make you feel good… let me do it again. I need it.”

The desperation in his voice was almost enough to send you over the edge again right then and there.

You could see the desperation in Ethan’s eyes as you teased him, and it only made you want him more. He lay back on the bed, breathless and dazed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, lips still glistening from his relentless efforts. His eyes tracked your every movement as you slowly climbed back over him, hovering above his face, watching the anticipation build in those wide brown eyes.

“God, you really can’t get enough, can you?” you murmured, your voice sultry and teasing as you dragged your fingers gently through his messy curls. He whimpered, his hips already jerking up into the air in a needy, helpless motion, like he couldn’t control himself anymore.

You relented, lowering yourself down until you were back on his face, and the second he felt you against his lips again, Ethan moaned like a man starved. His tongue immediately dove back in, more eager than before, licking and sucking with reckless abandon, as if he was addicted to the way you tasted. He groaned against you, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave marks, pulling you down harder against his mouth.

You bit your lip, suppressing a moan as you started to rock your hips against him. The way he moved beneath you, the way he whimpered and moaned like he was getting drunk off your taste, was driving you wild. He was a mess, absolutely lost in you, and you loved every second of it.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you breathed, your voice trembling as pleasure built inside you once again. “It’s like you were made for it… made to make me feel good.”

Ethan whimpered in response, his tongue pressing deeper, flicking wildly against your clit. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think straight anymore. All he could do was focus on you, on the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your body rocking against his face.

You felt the shift in him as you began to pick up the pace, grinding harder against him. His hips jerked up into the air, desperate for any kind of relief. But he had nothing to grind against, nothing to alleviate the intense need that was building inside him. He was humping the air, whining and whimpering beneath you, his body trembling with the sheer force of his desire.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, your voice dripping with mock sympathy as you looked down at him, watching his face disappear between your thighs. “You had no idea, did you? How badly I wanted this… how badly I wanted you.”

He moaned again, his hands trembling as they gripped your thighs harder, trying to pull you down further onto his mouth. He was completely lost in you now, his tongue moving sloppily but enthusiastically as you rode his face. And the way he was so desperate, so utterly consumed by your pleasure, only made you want him more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been fantasizing about this,” you continued, your voice breathy and filled with lust. “I’ve thought about you so many times, Ethan. Thought about how good it would feel to have you between my legs, thought about teaching you… showing you everything.”

Ethan whimpered beneath you, his hips jerking up even harder, humping the air like he couldn’t help himself. His tongue flicked faster, sloppier, as he devoured you, his whole body trembling with the force of his desperation.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned, your pace picking up as you rode him faster, your fingers tugging on his curls. “God, I never thought I’d be into nerdy guys, but you—fuck, you drive me crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about you in class, about what it would be like to have you like this… to make you mine.”

Ethan’s response was another desperate, muffled moan, his lips swollen and slick as he licked and sucked at you with reckless abandon. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was humping the air helplessly, completely lost in his desire for you. His eyes fluttered shut as he moaned into you, his whimpers growing more frantic the faster you moved.

“I’ve been fantasizing about you for so long,” you continued, your voice trembling with lust. “Every time we hung out, every time you were so oblivious to how badly I wanted you, it drove me insane. I wanted to drag you into my room and just… fuck you until you couldn’t think straight, until you knew my body better than any of those fuckass econ graphs.”

Ethan’s hips bucked wildly beneath you at that, his whimpers turning into needy, broken sounds as his tongue worked you over with even more desperation. He was completely at your mercy, unable to do anything but whimper and moan as you used him for your own pleasure.

“And now, you’re here,” you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair as you rocked harder against his face. “Now you’re mine… my good boy… making me feel so fucking good…”

Ethan let out a muffled cry beneath you, his whole body trembling as he sucked and licked with wild abandon, his desperation palpable. He was babbling incoherently, thanking you between gasps and whimpers, his voice barely audible against your skin.

You could feel the tension building inside you again, your body trembling as you rode his face faster, harder. The way he was so desperate, so eager to please you, was driving you wild. You could feel him practically worshipping you with every stroke of his tongue, every moan that spilled from his lips.

“You’re amazing,” you gasped, your voice breathy as you neared the edge once again. “So fucking amazing…”

Ethan’s response was another needy whimper, his tongue moving frantically as he tried to push you over the edge. His hips were still jerking up into the air, humping desperately as he sought any kind of release. But he didn’t stop—he couldn’t stop. He was completely consumed by his need to make you come, and the desperation in his movements only made your pleasure intensify.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your head falling back as you felt yourself tipping over the edge. “I’m gonna come again, Ethan… don’t stop…”

He let out a desperate groan, his lips swollen and slick as he licked and sucked at you with everything he had, his hips still humping the air in helpless need. And with one final, frantic flick of his tongue, you came undone once again.

Your body shook as your orgasm ripped through you, your hips bucking wildly against his face as you cried out. But even as you came, even as you trembled and gasped, Ethan didn’t stop. He kept going, his tongue working you over with desperate, wild enthusiasm, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

By the time you came down from your high, your legs were shaking, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all. You glanced down at Ethan, your breath catching at the sight of him—his face was a mess, his lips swollen and slick, his eyes dazed and wide with lust. And yet, he was still going, still licking you like he was addicted to the taste of you.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, breathless and dazed as you looked down at him. “You’re a fucking mess…”

He moaned in response, his hips jerking wildly as he humped the air, his whimpers growing more frantic as he continued to devour you. He was completely lost in it now, utterly consumed by his need to please you.

“God, you really want it bad, don’t you?” you murmured, your voice teasing as you looked down at him. “You’re so desperate for me… and I love it.”

He whined again, his hands gripping your thighs as he tried to pull you down harder onto his face, his babbling incoherent as he thanked you again and again, practically worshipping you with his mouth.

As you pulled yourself away from Ethan’s face, he let out a desperate whine, his hands twitching as if he was already mourning the loss of your taste. His lips were even more swollen, and his eyes, still dazed with lust, blinked up at you, wide with need.

He opened his mouth to beg, but you silenced him before he could utter a word, sliding down his body with a smirk. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched you, wide-eyed and trembling beneath you as he realized what you were about to do.

“Now it’s my turn,” you whispered, your voice dripping with lust and amusement as you looked down at him, dragging your nails lightly over his heaving chest. “Let me show you how it feels…”

Ethan’s breath came out in a ragged gasp as your hands slid lower, his body jerking beneath your touch. When you finally reached him, you paused, your fingers lightly grazing his hardness through his boxers, and you couldn’t help the look of surprise that crossed your face.

He was big.

For a moment, you just stared, slightly taken aback, before a wicked grin spread across your lips. “Well, well,” you teased, slipping your hand beneath the fabric and wrapping your fingers around him. Ethan let out a sharp gasp, his entire body shuddering at your touch. “You’ve been hiding this the whole time, huh?”

Ethan’s response was a choked whimper, his hips bucking up into your hand as you slowly stroked him, your touch light and teasing. “Oh, fuck…” he groaned, his voice shaky and ragged as he trembled beneath you. “I—fuck, I didn’t…”

You cut him off, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his length, your lips brushing over the sensitive skin as he moaned loudly, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Jesus, this feels incredible,” he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows as you began to stroke him in earnest, your hand sliding up and down his length, feeling him throb under your touch. “Holy shit, that feels so good…”

You moaned around him, your own arousal spiking at the sound of his voice, at the way he was completely unraveling beneath you. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, his length twitching as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder. His hips bucked up again, and you had to steady him with your hands, your fingers gripping his thighs as you began to bob your head, taking him deeper with every movement.

Ethan was losing it. His breath came out in ragged pants, his hips jerking up into your mouth as he swore under his breath, his voice shaky and desperate. “Oh my god… I… fuck, that’s so good, I can’t—fuck, I can’t…”

You smirked around him, your hands stroking the parts of him you couldn’t reach with your mouth, feeling him pulse under your touch. He was so responsive, so utterly lost in the pleasure, and it was driving you wild. You loved watching him fall apart, loved knowing that you were the one making him feel this way.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan moaned, his voice a mess of broken curses as his hips bucked up again, his body trembling beneath you. “I’ve never… I didn’t know… oh my god…”

You took him deeper, your tongue swirling around him as you moaned again, the vibrations making him shudder. He was babbling now, incoherent sounds spilling from his lips as he tried to hold himself together, but you could tell he was close—his breath was coming in ragged gasps, his body tense, his hips jerking up into your mouth with every movement.

“Please…” he gasped, his voice barely audible as he whimpered beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly it looked like he might tear them. “Please don’t stop, I need—fuck, I need you…”

You didn’t. You kept going, your pace quickening as you took him as deep as you could, your hands stroking him faster. His reactions were driving you wild—the way he was falling apart beneath you, the way he couldn’t stop swearing and moaning your name. His hips were out of control now, jerking up into your mouth with every bob of your head, and you could tell he was teetering on the edge.

“Oh fuck… I’m so close, I’m so fucking close…” Ethan’s voice was high and desperate, his whole body trembling as he gasped for breath, his hips bucking uncontrollably. “I’m gonna—”

You pulled back slightly, teasing him, licking slowly up his length as you watched him writhe beneath you. His eyes flew open, wide and glazed with lust, and he let out a loud, desperate whimper, his hips jerking up into the air in a futile attempt to chase your mouth.

“Please,” he begged, his voice shaky and desperate. “Please, I need you…”

You smiled wickedly, your hand still stroking him as you leaned down, your lips brushing over his tip as you whispered, “You’re so fucking hot when you’re falling apart like this.”

Ethan moaned loudly, his head falling back against the pillows as his hips bucked up again, his entire body trembling with the force of his need. He was so close, teetering on the edge, and you could see it in the way his chest heaved, the way his voice cracked with every moan.

“We have plenty of time for you to cum in my mouth Landry. But for now, the only place I want your cum is in my pussy,” you grinned wickedly as you crawled back up his body and grabbed his shaft to rub through your dripping folds. “You want this, baby?”

When all you received in response was a rushed nod, whimper and jerk of the hips, you tutted disapprovingly, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“Cmon pretty boy, I know you can do better than that. I haven’t even put your cock in my pussy yet, there’s no way you’re too fucked out to speak, use your words,”

“Please- I need to feel you around my cock, need you so so bad!” He whimpered in desperation, jerking his hips up to nudge against your entrance. The movement made you giggle before finally relenting, sinking down on his thick length in one go, prompting a string of curses to fall from both of your lips. You bit your lip and mewled at the full feeling that overtook your body, feeling full from finally having that sexy clueless nerd balls deep in you.

You could feel Ethan trembling beneath you as you began to move, his hands gripping your thighs with a hesitant touch. His nerves were obvious, the way his breath hitched in his throat, the way his body stiffened every time you sank down on him. He was trying so hard to hold it together, but you knew he was on the verge of losing control—and you were going to push him right over the edge.

You smirked as you started to rock your hips, your movements slow and teasing at first, just to watch him squirm. His eyes fluttered shut, and his mouth fell open with a shaky gasp as you took him in deeper. It was almost cute, the way he was trying to hold on, but you were far too impatient for that.

“Aw, look at you honey,” you cooed, your voice dripping with amusement as you leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. “Is this too much for you? Already falling apart and I’ve barely even started.”

Ethan let out a choked whimper, his hands gripping your hips tighter as his body trembled beneath you. “I-I’m sorry,” he gasped, his voice shaky and breathless. “I just—fuck, you feel so good, I don’t… I can’t…”

You laughed softly, your nails dragging down his chest as you rocked your hips a little harder, a little faster. “I know, baby,” you purred, your voice low and teasing. “I know it’s your first time, so I’ll take it easy on you… for now.”

He whimpered again, his hands trembling as they slid up your thighs, gripping you tightly as if he was trying to ground himself. But you weren’t about to let him off that easy.

“You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” you murmured, your voice sultry and playful as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear. “All those nights you were too shy to even look at me, thinking you didn’t stand a chance. But now look at you—finally getting what you’ve been begging for, and you don’t even know how to handle it.”

Ethan let out a strangled moan, his hips jerking up into you as his whole body trembled beneath you. “I… I didn’t think…” He could barely get the words out, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “I didn’t think you’d ever want me like this…”

You grinned wickedly, your hands sliding up his chest as you moved faster, your hips grinding down against him. “Oh, baby, you have no idea,” you whispered, your voice dripping with lust as you started to ride him harder. “I’ve wanted you for so long… watching you get all flustered around me, trying to hide how much you wanted me… It drove me crazy.”

Ethan moaned loudly, his head falling back against the pillow as he arched into your movements, his entire body trembling. His eyes were half-lidded with lust, his lips parted in breathless whimpers as he struggled to keep up with your pace. He was so close, and you could tell he was doing everything he could to hold back, to make it last, but you weren’t going to let him.

“You’ve been so good, though,” you teased, your voice a low purr as you dragged your nails down his chest. “Begging me with those puppy eyes, thinking you weren’t good enough for me… But look at you now, baby. Look how good you feel inside me. You’re doing so well.”

His eyes flew open at your praise, wide and dazed as he looked up at you. He whimpered, his body trembling beneath you, his hands clutching at your thighs as if he was trying to hold on. “I… I want more,” he gasped, his voice desperate and pleading. “Please… I want more…”

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You want more, baby? You want me to ride you until you can’t take it anymore?”

Ethan nodded frantically, his breath coming in ragged pants as he bucked up into you, his whole body trembling. “Please,” he begged, his voice shaky and desperate. “Please, I need more… I need you…”

You smirked, loving the way he was falling apart beneath you. “Such a good boy,” you murmured, your voice dripping with praise and amusement as you started to ride him faster, harder, your hips grinding down against him with every thrust. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. I didn’t think you’d be able to handle this, but you’re proving me wrong.”

Ethan let out a loud, broken moan, his hips jerking up into you as he whimpered beneath you, his body trembling with every movement. “I… I’m trying… fuck, I’m trying so hard…”

“Of course you are,” you purred, leaning down to nip at his earlobe, making him shudder. “But you don’t have to try so hard, baby. Just let go. Let me make you feel good.”

He let out a desperate whimper, his hands shaking as they slid up your sides, gripping you tightly as if he was afraid to let go. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can last…”

“Good,” you breathed, your hips grinding down harder as you felt him start to lose control beneath you. “Don’t hold back. I want you to come for me.”

Ethan’s breath hitched in his throat, his eyes rolling back as his whole body tensed beneath you. “I… fuck, I can’t… I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, baby,” you whispered, your voice commanding as you rode him harder, feeling him throbbing inside you. “Fill me up.”

With a loud, desperate moan, Ethan finally tipped over the edge, his hips jerking up into you as his whole body convulsed beneath you, trembling with the force of his release. You could feel him pulsing inside you, his hands gripping you so tightly it almost hurt, but it only drove you further, riding him through his orgasm as he gasped and whimpered beneath you.

“Such a good boy,” you purred, your voice dripping with praise as you slowed your movements, letting him come down from the high. “You did so well for me, baby. So, so good.”

Ethan’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling beneath you as he blinked up at you, his eyes wide and dazed. His cheeks were flushed, his hair a mess, and he looked completely gone—and it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice shaky as he looked up at you with wide, awe-filled eyes. “That was… I can’t even…”

You grinned down at him, your fingers brushing through his messy hair as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his. “Don’t worry, baby,” you whispered, your voice a low purr. “We’re just getting started.”

As Ethan came down from his high, still panting beneath you, you could see a spark ignite in his eyes. His gaze shifted, taking in every curve of your body as if he was seeing you for the first time. You leaned down, brushing your lips against his, teasing him with every movement as you felt him start to regain his composure.

“Okay, let’s switch it up a bit,” you said, your voice sultry and playful. “I want to show you how to make me feel even better.���

He looked up at you, a hint of nervousness still lingering in his expression. “How do you want me to… uh, you know, do it?”

You grinned, loving how eager he was to learn. “Let me show you,” you purred, sliding off him and turning around so you were both on your knees, facing each other. “Just like this. Get ready to take me in missionary.”

Ethan’s eyes widened with anticipation as you positioned yourself under him. You could see the nervous energy coursing through him, but you were determined to help him embrace this moment. “Just relax and let me guide you,” you said softly, your voice warm and encouraging.

As you settled yourself beneath him, you took a moment to enjoy the way his body looked beneath you. He was handsome, with those sweet, boyish features that drove you wild. You could see the tension in his muscles, but the way he gazed at you with those wide, innocent eyes made your heart race.

“Now,” you said, your voice sultry as you leaned down closer, brushing your lips against his. “I want you to push into me. Just like before, but this time, you’re in control.” You slowly guided him into you, letting him feel how warm and inviting you were, watching his face contort with pleasure.

Ethan’s breath hitched as he pushed in deeper, the sensation igniting something primal in him. “Like this?” he asked, his voice thick with need.

“Exactly,” you replied, encouraging him with a sultry smile. “Now, I want you to find your rhythm. Just focus on how good it feels to be inside me.”

He nodded, his eyes locked on yours as he began to move, cautiously at first. With each thrust, he grew more confident, his movements becoming faster and more deliberate. You could feel the intensity building between you, the way he filled you completely driving you wild.

“That’s it, baby,” you encouraged, your voice low and filled with desire. “You’re doing so good. Just like that. Harder.”

Ethan responded to your words, his thrusts becoming more enthusiastic, more urgent. The way he looked at you—his eyes dark with lust, his lips parted in a breathless moan—made your heart race even faster. You couldn’t help but revel in the heat of the moment, every sound, every movement sending a shiver of excitement through your body.

“God, you’re so hot,” you said, your voice dripping with lust as you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I can’t believe how well you’re handling this. You’re making me feel incredible.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the way they spurred him on. “I… I love this,” he gasped, his thrusts becoming more frantic, his confidence building with every word of praise you offered.

“You love making me feel good, don’t you?” you teased, your hips rolling against him as you encouraged him to go deeper. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I love making you feel good!” he exclaimed, his voice strained but filled with enthusiasm. The way he focused solely on your pleasure made you even more aroused, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly as you pushed him further.

“Good boy,” you praised, a sultry smile gracing your lips. “Now, tell me how much you want this.”

“I want it so bad,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his eyes locked on yours. “I want to make you come. I want to feel you around me.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you felt a rush of desire surge through you. “Then don’t hold back, Ethan. Show me just how much you want it.”

With a renewed sense of urgency, he began to thrust faster, his movements becoming more confident as he lost himself in the rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, and you couldn’t help but cry out, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

“Yes! Just like that!” you moaned, your voice breathless as you leaned down closer, feeling his warm breath against your skin. “You’re doing amazing, Ethan. Keep going.”

He nodded, his expression one of pure concentration mixed with lust. “I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice thick with desire. You could see the determination in his eyes, and it only made you want him more.

With every thrust, he grew bolder, and you could tell he was getting lost in the moment. The way he gazed at you—filled with awe and desire—only fueled your own excitement. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice trembling as he lost himself in the pleasure. “I can’t believe I get to be with you like this.”

“Just focus on me,” you urged, your voice sultry and commanding. “Let yourself go. I want to feel you completely.”

His breaths grew ragged, and you could see the pleasure building in him, his movements becoming more frantic as he tried to keep up with your pace. “I’m so close,” he gasped, his voice thick with need. “I don’t want to stop. I want to feel you come with me.”

“Then don’t hold back, baby,” you said, your voice dripping with lust. “Come for me. I want to feel you inside me.”

With those words, you pushed him over the edge, feeling his body tense beneath you as he let out a deep, guttural groan, his hips bucking up into yours as he finally let go. The pleasure washed over you both, and you couldn’t help but cry out as you felt him fill you completely, your body trembling in response.

Ethan’s face was flushed with desire, his lips swollen and parted as he gasped for breath, and you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. He looked utterly gone, and it was the most intoxicating thing you’d ever seen. “You did so good,” you praised, your voice low and sultry as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his. “I knew you had it in you.”

As he came down from his high, a blissful smile spread across his face, and you felt a sense of pride and relief. Well that pining hadn’t been for nothing and you finally got your perfect boy.

Oh Mindy was gonna eat her fucking words.

I feel like I should make an Ethan taglist? Lmk if you would want to be on it!

[avatarloverfrfr]

had this little thought that made me cackle, so i just had to share. imagine, a human that says “mate” frequently, maybe they’re aussie idk, and the na’vi are shocked. just this human referring to everyone as their mate with some big ass smile on their face while everyone is like…y’all seeing this shit? BUT it gets the na’vi that’s been courting them to assume the process has worked, obvious to the fact the human is oblivious to na’vi courting rituals, so now the human is even more confused when their friend is suddenly very friendly and purring whenever they say “mate” hehe

Miscommunication

Avatar2009 x Avatar!Reader

Summary: Being a dreamwalker in Pandora has its issues, now throw an Aussie into the mix and there’s bound to be miscommunication.

Masterlist

Deep within the flora of Pandora, the Omatikaya clan was busy preparing for the evenings festivals, the completion of Jake and my iknimaya. The clan members moved gracefully through the trees their lithe bodies blending seamlessly with the vibrant flora.

Among them, a small group of scientists and avatars, their presence a testament to the growing bonds between both species. Among the avatars was Y/n, an australian whos accent refused to relent, even when communicating in Na'vi, a constant reminder of her Earthly roots.

"'ì'awn mi uniltìranyu, I must make no mistakes applying this paint," Ka'ani hissed, his voice low and focused. This was it, I was finally accepted into becoming true Na’vi, and I would complete the ceremony with Ka'ani, someone who had become one of my closest friends on Pandora.

Nearby Jake was undergoing the same preparations. His transformation from a human to a full fledged Omatikaya, with Neytiri helping apply his body paint. This was a rite of message, a bridge between both worlds.

Ka'ani finished applying the paint and lowered his hands onto my shoulders, careful not to smudge the work he had spent the past hour perfecting. "You are ready Y/n. Tonight, you will become one of, The People."

A few months ago...

Jake and I walk into the hometree, surrounded by Na'vi who yip and holler at the sight of us, staring at us with a mix of distrust and disgust moving away from us as we walked forward, leaving a path that led us to the centre off the hometree. Meeting the eyes of the warrior that had bound Jake and I standing next to a well decorated elder Na'vi, clearly the leader of the tribe.

The warrior holding me by my queue pushed me forward slightly, slightly tightening his grip. "Oel ngati kameie," the Na'vi who had found us in the forest says, raising her hand to her to her forehead and lowering it in respect. The elder circles us, his stern gaze filled with disdain as he examines us. Jake gives him a slight nod, as I whisper to Jake, "He might take that as a threat, mate." The elder's ear twitches at my words, looking at me through the corner of his eyes.

After finishing his inspection of us, he returns to the center and says something in Na'vi, addressing the girl in front of us. "What's he saying?" Jake asks, still watching the exchange. "No clue. But he's definitely judging us." I replied back shrugging. The leader says something that makes the warrior next to him and the other Na'vi laugh. 'Definitely made a joke about us.'

"My father is deciding whether to kill you." the female Na'vi says, turning to look at us. The words sending a chill down my spine, as I shift my gaze to the warrior beside her father. "Your father... It's nice to meet you, sir," Jake says, taking a step forward reaching his hand out for him to shake. Immediately, the Na'vi move to restrain him, and the girl pushes him back, shouting something. The warrior holding me tightens his grip, moving his knife closer to my kuru.

Amidst the shouts, a powerful woman's voice echoes down the spiral stairs of the tree. The Na'vi shouts die down as she descends, the female Na'vi whispers, "That is my mother, she is Tsahik. She interprets the will of Eywa."

"What are you called?" The Tsahik asks, circling Jake and I like her husband had done. "I'm Jake Sully, and she's—" Jake starts, but she quickly cuts him off with a quick prick of a hand crafted needle. She turns to me, and I introduce myself, "I'm Y/n." She pricks me too, mixing Jack's and I's blood on the tip of her needle before licking it off.

"Why did you come to us?" she asks looking over at Jake, putting the needle back. "We come to learn," I answer, raising my hands slightly to emphasise my point. She looks away from Jake and steps closer to me. "We have tried to teach other sky people. It is hard to fill a cup that is already full," she says sternly. "Our cups are empty. Trust me. Just ask Dr. Augustine, we're no scientists," Jake interupts, his hand to his chest.

"What are you?" Mo'at says ignoring Jakes plea. "I'm a marine." Jake replies, but the Tsahik doesn't seem to recognize the term. "We are warriors," I interject, hoping the warrior behind the leader would understand. At that he raising his weapon at us, but the leader stops hi, calming the crowd.

The leader addresses the crowd in Na'vi, as he speaks, the murmurs of disagreement grow among them. The Tsahik continues speaking to her daughter and the warrior beside the leader. Finally, she declares, "It is decided. My daughter will teach you our ways, and Tsu'tey will teach you ours. Learn well, JakeSully and Y/n." she then turns to Jake "Then we will see if your insanity can be cured."

...

I wake up in cryo-pod to Norm calling my name. "Y/n, Y/n! Wake up, come back to us." Norm says, tapping my face. "Mate, don't you ever touch my gace," I grumble, using his hand to pull myself up. As he whispers a small sorry. I hurry over to Jake's pod, and when he opens his eyes, we exchange relieved smiles. "Are the avatars safe?" Grace asks. Jake and I nod, exchanging knowing looks. "Yeah, and you're not gonna believe where we are,"

A few days later...

"Engage your core, Uniltìranyu." Tsu'tey commands as I mount the pa'li, forming tsaheylu with it again. I manage a few meters before the pa'li speeds up and drops me onto the mud. Laughter erupts from the treeline, I follow my the sounds with my eyes and see five more Na'vi on pa'li, coming out to watch me struggle.

"I thought you would do better than JakeSully." I heard one of them say as the others cackle in response, I look around to see how Jake is doing and see Neytiri laughing at him as he falls off his pa'li too. "Rude" I mutter to myself as I try and wipe the mud off my body.

"Don't worry Y/n. Maybe you should give it some fruit. It worked with Ka'ani," one of them teases, and the gorup laughs again. There was one who didn't laugh and who I assume Ka'ani is. Looking at him I realise that he was the when who captured me the day Jake and I had arrived. "Don't listen to these sxkwangs, you'll get it soon." He yips and rides off with the others, leaving me to try again. "Thanks mate" I murmer after him, the group turning back to look at me.

Over the following weeks, Ka'ani and I grow closer, helping each other with tasks Tsu'tey sets for us.

"Don't eat that Y/n. It's poisonous," Ka'ani says grabbing my hand away from the dangerous plant.

"Do you want to be my sparing partner?"

"Yovo, that is your favourite fruit?" he asks one day at a communal dinner. After that day he would constantly bring me Yovo throughout the day.

"Come on mate! Don't lose to Jake!" I cheer during a sparing match Ka'ani and Jake were having, ignoring the curious looks from the Na'vi around me.

"I went out on a hunt. I brought you Yerik." Ka'ani said dropping the prey onto the floor in front of me. "Is it good?" He asks looking into my eyes, waiting for my validation. "Thank you Ka'ani." I say smiling as he lets out a toothy grin exiting my tent, his joy evident.

"Have you seen Ka'ani anywhere?" I ask around the vilage stopping where Jake and Neytiri were, "Ah- your 'mate' I saw him enter his tent." Neytiri said pushing me teasingly with a smile on my face. Letting out a quiet thank you I wondered over to his tent.

"Ka'ani? Neytiri had said you would be in here, but I think something is wrong with her." I joke. He turns around, laughing holding a beaded top in his hands.

He held the gift toward me, it was a top, "For you. 'mate'"

Now we're at the final stage of our rite of passage. "Go ahead, you need to catch up," Ka'ani urges as we run through the forest, climbing the vines toward the ikran den. When we arrive, I marvel at the sight. Looking at Ka'ani I realise that he was already looking at me, a smile on his face. "How will we know if the ikran chooses him?" "It will try to kill him."

After a tense struggle, Jake succeeds, and the Na'vi cheer. "It is now your turn Y/n." Tsu'tey says, the mood growing serious again. I enter the den, lasso in hand, and mutter to myself, "C'mon don't embarrass me now..." Just then, a vibrant green, blue and red ikran skreeches and charges at me. I manage to lasso its mouth and climb onto it's back, but it slams me against the cliff wall repeatedly.

"Tsaheylu!" someone shots. I grab its kuru and make the bond, calming the ikran. The Na'vi behind me yip and cheer as I fly off on my ikran, Looking down I saw Ka'ani amongst the others cheering. had did it, I completed my iknimaya.

During the communual dinner, Ka'ani leads to me a big tent. I turn toward him, to see he was already staring at me waiting to see my reaction. "This tent is so beautiful Ka'ani." at that he lets out a say of relief. "Kelku. This is a kelku Y/n. I built it myself." he corrects, "Well Ka'ani this kelku is amazing, I like it, but the nivi would look better on the left and not the right." I tease, Ka'ani chuckles too but seems to take the advice seriously.

"You are now son and daughter among the Omatikaya. You are apart of the people." Eytukan declares as he places a hand on both Jake's and my shoulders. I feel the weight of multiple Na'vi hands on me, and turn my head to see Ka'ani who was already watching me,staring intently at someting, a proud smile hanging from his lips, his hands on top of Tsu'tey and Eytukan own. Glancing around at the Na'vi crowd, I realised that the once uncertain looks were now gone, replaced with fond smiles. It dawns on me then that, we are truly apart of the people.

"Where are we headed mate? the party's way back there," I tease, as Ka'ani pulls me through the forest, occasionally glancing back, "Latsi, Ma Y/n." he replies smoothly, effortlessly navigating over branches and roots.

Pandora's bioluminescence illuminates our path as I playfully chase after him, reaching out to grasp his hand in mine. As we emerge into a clearing, I realise we're at the place he, Tsu'tey and the other students caught Jake and I, where he and I first met. Walking toward the huge log of fallen tree, Ka'ani turns to me, his gaze meeting mine.

"Do you remember this place?" he asks a holding a playful grin. "How could I forget." I say playfully back inching up closer to him so I could breathe in his scent. He looked me over before softly smiling to himself.

"You are wearing the pxen i gifted you." he remarked, slightly playing with the beads on the top. "You accept?" he asks with a smile, though the seriousness of the question isn't lost.

"Of course, mate. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." I say, gently caressing his shoulders as they visibly relax from unseen tension. A broad smile spreads across his lips as he continues to gaze into my eyes. "Muntxa si." he murmurs to me.

"Muntxa si?" I echoed, smiling but still confused.

"It is to mate, we are mated now. You must stop using that word recklessly." he explains, his voice muffled as he nuzzles his face into my neck, breathing in my scent.

"I have already prepared the kelku which I showed you and accepted, and I moved the nivi from right to left for you Ma Y/n, for our future. We must share this with the clan Mas Tìyawn." he says excitedly, grabbing my hand as we run hand-in-hand to Hometree to share the news with everyone.

———————————————————————————

i feel like i’m disappointing yall with my content, im so sorry. I’m just so🌚 I love yall who have been with me forever you don’t know how much it motivates me.💗

[destinyisastar]

I'm the Fool 🥀

Alright I haven't written a single thing in MONTHS! So, one of my current interests is Hazbin Hotel so here is an idea for an Alastor story!

Think of the song Goddess by Laufey for future reference. This is just a part of the story (which may be the reason the title doesn't make sense yet) tell me if you'd like to see where else this can go! *This was written with a fem reader in mind*

Alastor x Reader

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀 🥀🥀🥀

Imagine:

You were an outstanding jazz singer. Your voice would send chills to anyone that was nearby. You wanted to be famous and knew that one day everyone would know your name. Your next stop on your tour for fame was in a bar in New Orleans ran by a woman named Mimzy.

It was tiny little place nothing too big, but it was better than nothing. Mimzy greeted you and your crew at the door. She showed you to your dressing room and gave the crew time set up on stage.

"Alright everyone! Settle down! Settle down now!", Mimzy takes a breath, "We have a special show for you all tonight!" cheering could be heard.

"Now you all know that I only give you what's best, besides the liquor here of course!" Mimzy giggles to herself," No, today we have a chance to see and hear a new rising star!"

You hold a hand to your heart, closing your eyes and take a deep breath.

"Please give a big loud welcome to the singing sensation Darling Y/N!" Whistling, cheering, applauding all sounds of praise can be heard.

You step on to the stage, waving. "Hello! Nice to see all you folks here tonight! Can't believe you all came here tonight to see little old me, it's simply a pleasure to be here tonight!" You giggle lightly. "How bout we get this show on the road!"

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀 🥀🥀🥀

You take a bow on stage, "Thank you all for an amazing night!"

Stepping off the stage gleefully you make your way towards the bar. "Darling! That was perfect, absolutely stunning, your gonna make it big, and when I say big, I mean big bucks!" Mimzy grabs you by the arm. "You'll have to remember me when you make it big after all I'm giving you the help you need for your little stardom." She gives you a wide grin.

"Yes, I'll remember you, I just need to make it there first, and it's not all about the money." You tell her calmly.

"Why of course it's about money, everything is about money, you can't be famous without being rich!" Mimzy laughs. "Silly girl, you still have a lot to learn!" Mimzy takes hold of your hand and begins to walk you through the small club. "I have an idea! Why don't I be your manager?! I can be a big help! I'll get you into all the clubs you need. "

You never really thought about having a manager, you like taking care of things yourself.

"Well, at the moment, Mimzy, I'm really not looking for a manager, I'd just like to keep singing wherever I go, it doesn't really matter where." You say smiling at her.

Mimzy's face scrunches up a bit and she holds your hand tighter. "Well, that's fine I guess but you'll need me one way or another." She mumbles and lets go of your hand. " Whatever, I'd like for you to come back again, you brought in a hefty amount of people, and they absolutely adored you!"

"You really think they did?" You ask shyly.

"Of course I do! Didn't you hear all that cheering? That was all for you and that voice of yours."

You smile, "Yeah I did hear it."

Mimzy grins, "Even though you didn't make me your manager, I'm gonna hold out on your deal that you'll remember me and give me a part of your fame, so I'm gonna introduce you to someone."

"Who's this someone?" You follow Mimzy as she leads you to a table in the corner. You start to feel nervous.

"He'll want to introduce himself, so I'll leave that to him." Mimzy takes a look at you, "Don't worry dear! He's nothing to be afraid of!"

At the table you see a man sitting there with a glass in his hand. You take a moment to take him in. As if he could feel you staring at him, he looks right into your eyes. He stands up from his chair and meets you both halfway.

"Alastor! There you are! Why are you all the way over here?! I thought you'd be in the front!" Mimzy puts her hands on her hips. You stand behind Mimzy suddenly feeling shy.

"Why Mimzy you know I'd want my own view." The man named Alastor says smiling.

"I picked out a seat specially for you for that exact reason!" Mimzy huffs briefly. She puts a hand on the small of your back and pushes in front of her. "Don't be shy now." She whispers to you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure Miss Y/N." Alastor holds his hand out and you take it with a stutter. " Pleasure to meet you as well." You say to him feeling that your hand is a bit sweaty.

He takes your hand putting it up towards his lips and gives it a light kiss. Your face begins to warm.

"My, your voice is absolutely beautiful. I don't think I've ever heard such heavenly sounds before." He tells you letting your hand fall yet not fully letting go of your hand.

"Thank you for the compliment, although I'm not that great to be compared to heaven."

"Nonsense my dear, have some confidence in yourself! You are bound to be heard by the heavens themselves."

"You give me too much praise mister." You look away from him, feeling small in his gaze.

"The praise is very well intended, and please call me Alastor." You look back towards him.

"Ahem, Alastor" Mimzy nudges him, and he lets go of your hand. "Tell them what you do."

Alastor takes a look down at her and fixes his glasses," Yes, yes Mimzy I will," He looks back at you giving you a smile. "My dear I am a radio host in fact I'm the most famous host in all of New Orleans, and I'd be most delighted to have you as a guest."

"Really? I'm not all that special, I haven't got much experience, I don't think I'm radio material yet..." You begin to ramble.

Alastor just smiles and tilts his head slightly, "My dear," You look at him and give him a smile of your own. "It would be my pleasure to have you there with me."

You take a minute for yourself, "Alright I'll give it a shot," He grins even wider, " you'll help me right, Alastor? "

"Yes, of course I will darling."

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀 🥀🥀🥀

Alright! This just the beginning, please give me your thoughts. I haven't done this in a while. I'll start posting again soon enough once I make myself write again.

Have a good day!!

[jjkfemimagine]

your wedding | fem! jjk x reader

Gojo: Your wedding with Gojo, considering she comes from the extremely wealthy Gojo Clan, would be just that — no expenses would be spared for this day, or rather, entire week. Gojo would want to parade you around, make a huge deal about the two of you getting married (not that she didn’t do that the second you accepted her proposal). 

From the wedding invitations being personally made by some of the greatest artists in the world, to your dresses (or suit, if you’d prefer, whatever you will wear will be custom-made from the finest cloth), to the five-tier wedding cake and the venue being one of the most expensive, the wedding is an entire fairytale. 

When getting married to a woman like Gojo, squash any hopes of this ordeal being small or budget-friendly. It’s not every day the strongest person in the world gets married to the most beautiful woman in the world (aka, you). 

Geto: Your wedding with Geto would be best described as elegant. It’s on the smaller side, but there’s so much attention to detail. You would both invite important people in your lives, and Nanako and Mimiko would act as dual flower girls. They would be the only ones standing by each of your sides, as there would be no bridesmaids to make the wedding less stressful on you both. 

You would exchange matching rings in a simple but ethereal venue, and the cake would be three tiers and on the smaller side to match your very chill wedding. Geto’s vows made you sob like a baby in front of everyone, and as soon as you kiss she starts referring to you as her wife to everyone who comes up to congratulate you two. 

Nanami: If there was a bridezilla, it would be Nanami. She wouldn’t be mean, but completely focused on every single miniscule detail to the point that if a flower looked out of place she’d immediately be calling the florist to exchange a single stem. She would want everything to be perfect because you didn’t deserve anything less. 

The two of you would save up to have it be a destination wedding in Malaysia. It would be on the beach, and Nanami would wear a wedding jumpsuit rather than a dress. She would want to stand at the end of the aisle and watch you walk down it, and everyone (see: Gojo) would release an “Awww,” as Nanami starts crying at the sight of you.

She wouldn’t leave you alone the entire wedding day, holding onto your hand as you make your way around to thank everyone and speak to different guests. She’s waiting on your every movement, holding your champagne glasses if you need her to, and helping put your shoes back in place after you take them off hours later drunk when you’re on the dancefloor with everyone, pressing a kiss on her wife’s ankle. (She would totally carry you over the threshold!) 

Shoko: A city hall wedding. The two of you would still get dressed up, and she gives the energy of someone who would get married in the winter, around the holiday season. You would have matching white long coats that tie at the waist for when you’re outside and your family and friends take pictures of you as soon as they’re done cheering for you two. Shoko gets married around the holiday season because she gets some extra time off, and she decides to be as cheesy as possible and kiss you under any mistletoe hung up for the holidays, which she always follows up with a kiss to your ring finger. 

Yuki: Yuki never thought she would be someone who would want to get married. That changed as soon as the two of you began dating. Your wedding couldn’t even be called a “wedding,” exactly, when she asked you if you wanted to get married at 3 A.M. 

And when she meant “get married,” she meant 6 hours later, when city hall opened at 9 A.M.

You would barely have any time to tell anyone, and luckily, you both owned a pair of nice white dresses. You dressed up as much as you could at a spur of the moment decision, as most things are with Yuki, and got on her motorcycle and drove to the city hall. 

She had booked an appointment online at 2 A.M. before asking you to get married to her. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was that she already had the wedding rings ready, and had for six months. Yuki is someone who does things when the timing feels “right,” by her standards, and she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you, so why wait?

Choso: Choso would definitely be nervous about your wedding. You two would plan it out, and try to make it a simple but beautiful occasion to celebrate your marriage. You would be the one to propose to her, and she would definitely cry her eyes out. 

You wouldn’t tell her, but you would plan out an entire table that would remain untouched, a setting for each of her brothers who had been lost set up with their pictures. She would once again sob like a baby and kiss you once she saw this. 

Yuji would be her maid of honor, the younger girl cheering when Choso dips you into the most perfect kiss of your life in front of the attendees.

[katelynnwrites]

Girl Put Your Records On (Tell Me Your Favourite Song) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: syd’s injury 😔

word count: 2077

summary: requested, domestic fluff with sydney

a/n: syd’s back! syd’s back! syd’s back!

It’s no secret that Sydney loves cooking. She has even said that if she wasn’t playing football professionally, she would be a chef.

And maybe you’re a little biased as her girlfriend and frequent beneficiary of her cooking but you are sure that she would have made an amazing one.

The German woman cooks a large variety of things and she is always down to experiment but her favourite is pasta.

Sydney’s homemade pasta is one of your favourite things to eat and you would even go so far as to call it your comfort food.

Your girlfriend makes the entire dish from scratch and you swear you can feel the love and care she puts into it.

The extent of your fondness for it and for any of Syd’s cooking really, is well known. There has been more than one occasion where your fellow Bayern teammates have teased you that you’re only with Sydney for her skills in the kitchen.

That couldn’t be further from the truth though.

You love everything about your girlfriend, from her every perfection down to her littlest flaw.

If it were up to you, you would say that a certain Sydney Matilda Lohmann is complete perfection.

There is so much you adore about her and that includes each moment that you spend with her.

Making pasta together with your girl is one of your favourite moments.

You and your girlfriend frequently have teammates over for meals. Sydney’s cooking tends to have that effect on people and while making pasta with friends is nice, you love making pasta with Syd much more.

When it is just you and her, the Bayern Munich midfielder putting her vintage record player on to as she put it, set the vibe.

Your girlfriend spins you around the kitchen when any of her favourite records come on and you’d ask her, her favourite song in between fits of laughter.

Sydney’s favourite song changes all the time based on how she’s been feeling so you like to ask her what it is. It gives you an idea of her current mood and state of mind.

Her hazel eyes are always bright when she answers you and you cherish all of her answers and the way she looks as she gives them.

More often than not, she has flour on her clothes and hair. She leaves streaks of it behind on you, a visible reminder of her hands on your body.

You love these smudges of white, left on your hips, shoulders and stomach, sometimes on your cheek if Sydney’s feeling mischievous enough to swipe her flour covered finger across your cheek.

It’s especially heartwarming after tough games and it goes like this.

Sydney makes her pasta dough and you hand her the ingredients in the right order, reading out the recipe from one of her cookbooks. Her scribbled handwriting in the margins of said cookbooks mark them as hers.

You continue leafing through the recipes, giggling at some of the notes and comments she has left while your girlfriend wraps the dough up before putting it to chill in the fridge.

The German woman then proceeds to make the sauce, tomato or cream based, depending on her mood.

She lets it simmer over the stove and it always smells so damn good. Syd stirs it and lets you taste test it as she cooks. The Bayern player feeds you those spoonfuls of little tastes with anxious smiles and hopeful looks, always waiting for your feedback.

You don’t know what she’s worried about because her pasta sauce is constantly amazing.

It gives you great joy to watch her face light up whenever you tell her so.

Sitting on the kitchen counter, most of the time in Syd’s clothes as you swing your legs back and forth, you fall even more head over heels in love with her.

You love watching her hum along to the song playing as she does little dance moves whenever inspiration strikes her.

Every now and then, she turns around to check on you and you have no shame in showing her just how captivated you are.

You’re starstruck because of her.

The way you look at her makes her blush and your girlfriend often ducks her head, looking back down at her pot of sauce to hide it. It really is cute of her.

When the sauce is done, Sydney washes her hands before pulling you off the kitchen counter. The German woman always takes the opportunity to kindly suggest that she can help pass the remaining time more quickly.

And you always take her up on it because who would say no to what she has in mind?

Making out with your girlfriend is like something out of a dream. With her lips on yours and whispered sighs, her hands skimming your bare skin, well you’re in love with the feeling and her.

The last minutes of chilling time for the pasta dough go by fast and then Sydney is waltzing you back into the kitchen.

You stand beside her, the only place you ever want to be, even if you are given the whole world to choose from and roll out the pasta dough with her.

The both of you take turns to run the pasta wheel over the rolled sheets and Syd never fails to make fun of you for how much neater hers turns out.

It is quick work after that, for the meal to be ready.

You set the plates out and your girlfriend finishes off her dish.

It is almost sacred to be able to curl up with the hazel eyed woman, with whatever show the two of you are binge watching playing on the television while you eat together.

Moments like that give you the much needed break from football. It’s lovely to be able to chase a dream you’ve had since you were a little girl but it’s also lovely for you to be able to spend time with your girlfriend.

Since Syd cooked, you pick up the plates and take them to the kitchen to wash.

It is everything to you, to be able to share this domestic bliss with Sydney.

******

Now that she is injured, things have to change.

Not by much but rather, a simple reversal of roles.

You make the pasta and let your girlfriend taste the sauce. The German player directs you from your usual perch atop the kitchen counter.

As much as she insists that she wants to help, you simply shake your head, giving her a firm no.

You just want her to rest her ankle.

The injury had been a devastating blow to your girl who had been so excited to start the season. Prior to the injury, her form had been brilliant and she’d just come off a solid win against Iceland.

Your girlfriend was just getting back the sparkle in her eyes every time she steps onto the pitch. It had been missing since Germany’s exit from the World Cup and now you feared it would be a while more before you saw it in its full beauty.

You hate how injury prone Sydney is, hate the way the world is so unkind to her. Her bad luck has it that she is always getting into a really good flow right before it is cut short. Fate is cruel sometimes.

There’s nothing you can do about that but you can make her dinner. It is the least you can do for the hazel eyed woman you are so in love with.

You’ve only finished simmering the pasta sauce and turned off the stove for a moment before Sydney is making grabby hands at you.

It’s tomato tonight because that is what the midfielder had been wanting.

You laugh at her gestures and scoop out a spoonful of sauce as she’d asked.

Carefully, you feed it to her but not before you make a show of blowing on it, to cool it down.

‘Good?’ You ask, taking a step back expectantly.

‘It’s really good.’ Your girl replies.

‘Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?’ You tease.

‘I’m not! I-’ Sydney backtracks defensively, her eyes widening rapidly.

It’s adorable how easy it is to fluster her.

‘I’m just kidding sonnenschein.’ You admit and she scowls, crossing her arms and huffing, ‘I knew that.’

‘You sure?’ You mock and the taller woman deigns to reply you by dramatically rolling her eyes.

‘I’m sure. I am also sure that your tomato sauce isn’t as good as mine though.’

‘I know. Yours will always be better.’ You shrug easily, stepping back in between Syd’s legs and planting a gentle kiss onto her lips.

Your girlfriend chuckles and your heart lightens.

******

Eating dinner with the German player sitting next to you has your heart fluttering in all kinds of good ways.

You are never going to stop cherishing these moments with her.

Syd notices you staring at her and she blushes, mumbling, ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Because you are so incredibly beautiful and I love you.’

It is a simple, effortless confession but your girlfriend’s face lights up.

‘I love you too.’

She sets her plate down on the coffee table and smiles, ‘I fall more and more in love with you with each and every day that I spend with you.’

Sydney’s words give you the warmest of feelings inside and when she smoothly straddles you, despite the walking boot she has on, you know the feeling is mutual.

‘Syd…’ You groan, torn between wanting to make sure she is being cautious about her injury and wanting her to kiss you.

‘I’m being careful.’ She insists before leaning down to connect her lips to yours.

She tastes like tomato sauce and cheese but you don’t care because it’s Sydney.

Sydney who is the living definition of sunshine. Sydney who for reasons you can’t fathom is as in love with you as you are with her.

You have a lot of reasons to be thankful but your girlfriend is the biggest one.

******

It’s with kiss swollen lips and messy hair that you take yours and Syd’s dinner plates into the kitchen.

Your girlfriend trails behind you with her crutches, her lips and hair in a similar state.

There is no mistaking the satisfied smirk on her face though.

‘Here.’ You breathe, lifting her up onto the kitchen counter after depositing both your plates into the sink. Her crutches are propped next to her.

Sydney wiggles comically as she gets comfortable and you giggle.

You put her record player on and start on the dirty dishes.

‘Let me help please?’ The hazel eyed woman implores.

You’re going to refuse and assure her that you manage but remember how helpless the rehab has been making her feel despite her best attempts to hide it.

Ever selfless, you know that Syd would never do anything she deems might harm the team dynamic, even if it really wouldn’t.

You want to spoil her but know that that is not what she needs right now.

So as a compromise, you offer her a dish towel and ask, ‘You can dry if you like?’

The Bayern midfielder gratefully takes the towel from you. She knows you know and the soft look of adoration in her gorgeous hazel eyes makes you melt.

It’s quick work, made enjoyable by the music playing and Syd’s humming along.

******

Normally you brush your teeth together and your girl links her little finger with yours but now you support her with an arm gently wrapped around her waist.

Syd has taken her walking boot off for the night so she needs to be careful not to put any sort of weight on her injured ankle.

Before she’d taken it off though, she had affectionately touched the yellow smiley face sticker you had put on it.

She hopes you know how much you and all your little gestures mean to her.

Her injury is hurting her but you make it all bearable.

So she leans into you and soaks in your touch, giggling through the toothpaste foam in her mouth.

Your gaze meets hers and you know that you want this to last the rest of your life.

With the way Syd whispers about how much she loves you as she settles down to sleep with her head on your chest, you know in your heart that she wants the same.

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine

[cakexblankett]

Lap dance

Character

Larissa Weems

Rating

Red

Words

1.804

~•~

It was a chill sunday evening when you received a message from Possum.

Possum:

Wish you could be here with me, mommy is feeling very naughty tonight.

10:30 PM

You bit your lip, reading the message again and again.

You had been texting this misterious woman, who called herself Possum, for a couple of months now. It all started innocently, she found you on Tumblr and sent you a message. You remained intrigued by her, her way of texting was sweet and passionate, especially when she talked about what she liked- fashion shows and fashion in general, she could go hours telling you about it.

You stalked her account; she reposted pictures of cats, and, obviously, fashion related posts. She seemed innocent but refined. Soon enough, you found out she wasn't that innocent after all.

She started asking you personal questions, at first normal one, like what was your colour or your favourit dish, then getting more insidious, like what was your favourite position in bed or if you liked to be toped.

You didn't mind, you took a liking to her, so you replied truthfully, knowing she would do the same. And before you knew it, she started wanting you to call her mommy and even asked you if you would be willing recording you touch yourself. You declined, but not because you didn't trust her or because you were ashamed or shy about it, but you would have prefered leaving this kind of things for when you would meet in real life.

You:

Then maybed I should come over and make mommy feel good.

10:35 PM

It was time to get things in motion and see who you were talking to. You imagined she was a beautiful woman, she said she was in her forties, and you loved middle aged women, so that was surely a point in her favour- and in yours. You imagined she was a freak in bed- all those messages she sent you, about how she would have liked to try different positions with you, made you certain she was a beast in making love.

You waited for her reply, while your thoughts filled with fantasies of her touching you. You didn't even know how she looked but that didn't stop you from dreaming.

Possum:

I'll send you my location. Don't make mommy wait.

10:40 PM

You jumped off your bed and ran towards your wardrobe. You were wearing your pajama, so it was evident that you needed to change. What to wear, though, was a dilemma. You wanted something that would have caught her eye, something luxurious, sexy, but easy to be undressed from.

After a while, you opted for a tight skirt and a blouse- you left the first three buttons unbottuned. You wore a choker with the word "pet" spelled on it.

You smiled, calling a taxi and giving the driver the adress. The ride there was torture, you nimbled on your bottom lip, thinking of all the ways she would make you come undone. You were already feeling the ache, the need to feel her touch all over you.

Once arrived, you paid the taxi driver and texted Possum.

You:

I'm here.

11:19

You looked around you. The neighborhood was quiet and you could tell from the villas and expensive houses that she was rich like everybody else there.

You glanced at your phone, seeing that she read your text. You waited for a second, before the door in front of you opened and your breath itched in your throat.

Before you stood the most beautiful woman you had ever layed eyes upon. Her white hair was in an introcate updo, her plump lips were painted a sinful shade of red. Her blue eyes were watching you curiously and hungryly. She was tall, very tall and she wore a tight, beige dress, that accentuated her curves in a delicious way. You imagined she was beautiful, but she was divine, she was more than you could have ever dreamed of.

"Please, do come in."

You smiled, making your way into her house. It was huge and well decorated. She wasn't lying when she said she liked fashion. Everything was curated meyiculously, every detail added to the perfection of the interior.

"This is nice. You are nice."

She raised an eyebrow, smiling. You were so nervous, you felt your cheeks flush red.

"Am I just "nice" or do I make you feel something more... carnal?"

You gulped. You had just met her and yet you were ready feeling inebriated by her. It made you feel dizzy, like you were dreaming, but you hoped it was really real, that she wasn't just a fantasy born from your imagination.

"You make me feel everything at once."

She hummed and you had to close your eyes, the sound going straight to your core. Her voice was something otherworldly. Her english accent made her sound refined, and her voice was sweet and low, making you feel like a sailor at sea, called by a siren. You were doomed, you could have easily fell for a woman like her. Maybe you already did.

You opened your eyes at the feeling of her hand on your throat. You gasped, her fingers tracing the letters on your choker. She giggled, an exquisite sound that you wanted to hear more of.

"My little pet."

You watched her lips move whilst she said that, feeling the need to know how soft they were. Her hand closed gently around your neck, squeezing gently. You let out a moan, watching as Larissa's eyes grew darker. Then her lips clashed on yours, it was so fast you could have missed it if it wasn't that now you two were kissing, and her lips were soft as feathers, your wanted to stay like that forever.

Her tongue swept on your bottom lip, asking for entrance, and you gave it to her. Her tongue didn't have to battle with yours for dominance, because you were more than alright being the one seduced and dominated. The fact that a woman like her wanted you made your ego reach up the stars.

"Come."

She took her hand and led you up the stairs, to her bedroom. The room was spacious but almost empty. There was a huge painting on one wall depicting two women having sex. It was beautifully made, it almost looked like a photograph. There was a kingsized bed, who screamed for you to use it.

She kissed you again, more gently than before, and started unbottuning your blouse.

"If you're not feeling comfortable, tell me to stop and I will."

You shook your head, helping her undress you.

"I want this, I want you."

She gave you a quick peck on the lips before taking off your blouse. The skirt followed it on the floor. She took two steps back, glancing at you.

"Hm beautiful."

You blushed, her compliment meant the world to you. She made you sit on the side of the bed, then she slowly started taking off her dress. Her legs were long and toned, almost in contrast with her pale complexion that made her look like she made out of porcelain. When she remained in her undergarments, she sat on your lap and began moving on you, giving you a lap dance. It was funny, her, the tall and mature one, giving you, the small and young one, the lap dance. But you didn't complain.

She knew what she was doing, roaming her hands on your body, her hot breath on your ear. You clasped your hands on her butt, helping her move easily on you.

"Tell me what you need."

Her whisper made you shiver.

"Fuck me."

She stopped her motions and got off you. She kneeled and opened your legs. You moaned at the sight. She looked at you with doe eyes while she took off your panties. The fresh air hit your wet center and you whimpered. She stroked your folders with two fingers, feeling just how ready you were to be taken.

"Is this the effect mommy has on you?"

You nodded frantically, seeing her on her kneew, between your legs, made you horny like nothing else could.

"Do you want mommy to make you feel good?"

You nodded again, letting out a small moan. She was so hot, so seductive, you wondered if she was ever like this or if she learned to be.

"Say it."

"I want mommy to make me feel good."

"Hm good pet."

She licked your slit, latching on your clitoris, sucking at it and swirling her tongue around it. Waves of pleasure washed over you, you felt euphoric. She swept her tongue one last time on your bundle of nerves before entering you with two fingers. You let out a whimper, grasping the sheet under you. She curled her fingers inside you, making you see stars.

"Good girl, taking me so well."

You were a moaning mess, soon you felt the orgams wash over you. She helped you ride it, still moving gently inside you.

"Such a good pet, did mommy make you feel good?"

"You made me feel more than good."

She smirked, taking out her fingers. She put them in her mouth, looking at you straight in the eyes. She moaned, tasting you on her digits. Your pupils dilated, feeling yourself grow needy once more.

"Do you want to make mommy feel good too?"

She took off her undergarments, and positioned herself between your legs. Her clitoris touched yours, and you felt a jolt of electricity run in your veins. She started slowly moving her hips, the friction making you whimper. Your clitoris was still sensitive, but it felt good to feel her moving on top of you.

"Hm you're going to make mommy come."

She started riding you faster, her hips swaying up and down quickly. In a matter of minutes, you two were pn the edge.

"Come with me, make me hear you scream my name."

You only needed a few more movements and you both came.

"Larissa!"

She layed beside you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. You hugged her, feeling her warm skin touch yours. You could get used to this.

"It was awesome."

She laughed.

"You had doubts?"

You smiled, shaking your head. She cupped your cheek. You tried to take a picture of her in your mind. Her lipstick smeared, her updo slowly falling apart. She somehow looked better than before.

"If you want to, you can stay the night."

"I would love to."

You both smiled. You felt incredibly lucky to have met her, and you knew that night was the start of something far bigger and marvelous than you could have predicted.

[spooky-holtz]

Delicate

Melissa Schemmenti x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This is my first time actually posting something I've written, please be nice :) I also don't know how to end things but this entire thing is a start I guess idk

There is no doubt in your mind that Sundays are easily the best day of the week. They are a moment of peace and a reprieve from the hectic nature of the school year. Abbott never gives you chance to breathe, with there always being some issue to fix - though it’s usually because of Ava or Janine’s ‘helpful’ antics.  

Not only do they offer you a respite from an otherwise perfect work environment; they also give you a chance to spend some time with a certain red-headed co-worker.  

Juggling work with a relationship is never an easy task yet somehow you and Melissa have managed it for close to two years, both of you learning to intertwine your work and personal lives seamlessly. Spending lunchtime chatting with Barb helps, usually with the redhead’s arm resting on the back of your chair as you eat last night's leftovers over conversations about the older woman’s latest Janine-shaped qualm. Mel even manages to convince Ava to group your classes together during field trips to various museums throughout the school year, just so she can see your eyes light up as you guide the kids toward a new fossil - well, as new as something that’s been underground for millions of years can get.  

As enjoyable as all this is, your Sundays give you a chance to spend time doing absolutely nothing with Melissa. Days usually begin wrapped in a duvet until neither of you can stand the heat of the confined space any longer, or until she turns on the Schemmenti charm and bats her eyelashes at you before asking you to make coffees, knowing you would simply never say no to her. Today starts a little differently, though.  

The coldness of the sheets wrapped around you doesn’t go unnoticed, and neither does the lack of body heat that is usually pressed against your back and wrapped around you. Before you can even wake, you’re frowning at the loss of warmth that constantly accompanies the redhead. You begrudgingly open your eyes, blearily searching for Melissa who at the very least you expect to be resting against the headboard, cat-eye glasses propped on her face as she reads a terrible romance novel. Instead, you’re greeted with a crumpled pillow and cold sheets.  

The sight of the empty bed makes you huff, disappointed that she wouldn’t stick around to say good morning. You roll over, wrapping the cool sheets even tighter around your bare torso and grumbling under your breath about the harsh change in temperature that this time of year always brings, before the faint sound of music causes your ears to perk up. It’s too far away to make out properly but there’s only one person that can be the cause of it.  

Deciding that you’ve been away from Melissa for far too long, though in reality it’s probably only been half an hour since she woke up herself, you swing your feet off the edge of the bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. Spying an old Phillies sweatshirt with cracked red print that you had commandeered from the redhead a long time ago laying on the floor in front of the dresser after last night’s activities, you decide that it would provide sufficient coverage for your journey into the rest of your home. It is only you two here, after all.  

Cautiously, you make your way across the corridor to the stairway, quietly padding your way down as the music becomes louder and the smell of breakfast envelops your senses. The tune is much easier to make out as you round the corner and lean against the kitchen doorframe, Melissa not noticing as she fusses with ingredients on the stovetop that you can’t see, her back turned as she softly sings along to the track playing from the radio that resides on the sunny window ledge.  

“Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate,” she softly sings, almost subconsciously as she carries on with the task at hand. You shake your head and let out a slight chuckle at the sight, one that she doesn’t hear over the radio. She continues her singing, hips swaying slightly to the relaxed beat.  

Swiftly but silently, you make your way across the kitchen to where she stands and wrap your arms around her. She tenses slightly, her breath catching in her throat at the surprise intrusion. As soon as it happens, she relaxes back into you, continuing to prepare breakfast.  

“Who would have thought the Melissa Schemmenti was a Swiftie?” you ask lowly into her ear.  

It’s not as if her soft spot for pop music is a secret to you. After a night on the town with Jacob and Janine during spring break you had returned home to find the redhead fast asleep curled up on the sofa, a half-full bottle of rosé forgotten about on the coffee table as Harry Styles crooned at her from the radio that hasn’t moved from the countertop. The same radio that is currently playing Taylor Swift.  

“You realize I don’t really have a choice in that, right?” You can almost hear the smirk in her voice, the quirk of her eyebrow that appears so regularly you’re surprised it isn’t a permanent feature that’s etched on her face. “You listen to literally nothing else.”  

You gasp, feigning offence at the comment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about”  

“Look, if we’re going to see her in concert then I wanna be prepared,” she says matter-of-factly gesturing wildly with the spatula that she holds in her hand, almost as if it backs up her frantic justification. “I’m not gonna half-ass it like most of the boyfriends in that crowd, I’m going to make sure I know all the words, so my girl doesn’t have to worry about whether I’m enjoying myself or not.”  

Her words immediately cause a pink hue to spread across your cheeks, her casual thoughtfulness never going unnoticed. Suddenly embarrassed, you move your head to press against the exposed skin between her neck and shoulder. You’re pretty sure she can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks, even if she can’t see it.  

“I still can’t believe you’re going for me.” You mumble against the skin of her neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin.  

She relishes in the contact for a brief moment before she registers your words and spins to face you, the pan and its contents that sit on the stove pushed to the side, forgotten.  

“Well yeah, of course I’m going to go with you. You love her and I love you. Simple”  

You pause.  

“Really? Because if you didn’t want to go you know I could always just take Janine or Jaco-“  

Your rambling is cut off by a soft pair of lips pressing against yours, immediately stopping the tirade of second-guessing.  

She tastes like coffee, the remnants of which sit at the bottom of a mug on the counter that’s adorned by faded images of the two of you over the last 3 years that you’ve known each other. The item was a gift from Barb, given to Melissa as part of her birthday celebrations this year. It serves as a reminder of just how long the two of you pined over each other before letting your true feelings be known.  

Barb took great pride in presenting the mug to Melissa, with an equal amount going toward the fact that all but one of the images that are printed on the side were taken secretly by the older woman, candid moments of your relationship through the years.  

“I think you’ll find that you weren’t even together in half of them,” she had said, as soon as she had seen Mel’s eyes soften at the sight she held in her hands. “I just knew I had to take pictures when I would see you two together. You would definitely want to see them when you finally plucked up the courage to tell the damn girl how you felt.”  

“Where did you just go?” Melissa asks, bringing you out of your thoughts. She’s looking up at you slightly through her eyelashes and the sight makes your heart skip in your chest.  

“I was just thinking about how much I love you,” you reply, honestly. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone that would learn the words to an entire concert setlist just for me.”  

“Of course I would,” she says, leaning in again. “Because,” kiss. “I love you,” kiss. “And besides,” she shrugs slightly, “it’s not as if I didn’t know most of them in the first place. I couldn’t have you thinking I was getting too soft now, could I?”  

Your jaw drops at the statement.  

“Melissa Ann Schemmenti!” You gasp, “Are you seriously telling me you’ve been a closeted Taylor Swift fan this entire time and you were going to let me think you weren’t?!”  

“What do you think I am, an idiot?” She breaks into a grin, her eyes crinkling. “The woman is a musical genius. You should be more shocked that I apparently didn’t like her after that whole Harry Styles debacle.”  

Your jaw is still ajar, quite simply unable to recover from this revelation. You go to move away from the redhead as the song changes on the stereo but her deceivingly strong arms tighten around your waist, pulling you even closer to her than you were before.  

“Dance with me?” She asks, looking up through her eyelashes again. Her voice has taken on an almost nervous tone that you rarely get to hear from her.  

Those three words soften your rigid exterior as she looks up expectantly, almost hesitantly, as she waits for your response.  

“As if I could ever say no to you.”  

She visibly relaxes at your statement, her left hand moving further down your lower back to rest against your waist. You snake one hand up the silk of her floral dressing gown to rest on her shoulder whilst the other subconsciously finds its way into hers, fingers intertwining seamlessly. This is a position you often find yourselves in, always finding something to dance together to as a meal cooks, or a fresh pot of coffee brews, or simply as a way to enjoy the others' company.  

Your bodies press flush against each other and you’re finally able to relish in the warmth that she carries. A warmth that you so desperately missed this morning. Your head leans back slightly so you can look at her face properly for the first time since you woke.  

This is your favorite version of Melissa and is by far the most beautiful. Yes, she looks incredible when her eyes are lined by sharp black eyeliner or her lips shine with recently applied sparkly pink gloss, but this natural state with soft eyes and a dusting of freckles that line the bridge of her nose makes your heart leap in your chest. Not many people get to see this version of her, but you feel privileged to be among the extremely lucky few.  

Her fiery hair is pulled up into a messy bun in an attempt to tame the tangled mess she finds herself in every single morning. It was clearly a hasty choice made when she woke herself, so much so that she missed a chunk and a copper strand falls down her back, completely unnoticed.  

“Do you know how pretty you are?” You ask.  

She scoffs. “As if-“she begins before her protest is abruptly cut off by your own.  

“Nope, I’m not listening,” you say, leaning your head back away from her in a bid to cement your point. “You’re absolutely the most beautiful woman in the world and I won’t hear any different, so stop that right now.” 

She chooses not to fight this battle that she will clearly lose, for once going against all her instincts. When you look back at her, her eyes are glistening, shining like they’re made of glass. You take the opportunity to place your lips to her forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple in a silent ‘I love you’. Meeting her eyes again, you can see the faint pink hue that dusts her cheeks.  

“You’re blushing, you know.” You tease lightly.  

She laughs, almost in disbelief. “Yeah well, pretty girls tend to have that effect on me.” Her eyes crinkle again as she grins, her expression only growing wider as you throw your head back in laughter. Her hand on your waist moves to your lower back, pressing to keep the two of you from toppling over as you laugh together.  

When you bring your head back to her level, beaming in her direction at her constant ability to turn the Schemmenti charm on seemingly out of nowhere. Your grip on her tightens, the hand that was conjoined with her own snaking it’s way inside her robe and under the loose tie to rest on her hip, rubbing the pale skin there with your thumb.  

Her own hand moves to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, it having fell during the moment of pure joy and laughter you shared. As her hand pulls away, she moves it to brush against your jaw, caressing the skin as her light eyes gaze lovingly into yours. This entire scene feels like something that’s been ripped straight out of a rom com, but there is simply no other person you would rather share these lulls with. Almost as if she’s reading your mind, Melissa breathes a quiet “I love you,” before resting her own forehead against yours.