#so I picked up traces of her accent

[madanimalscientist]

I once (due to jet lag) managed to forget the French word for sheep, despite having taken 3 years of French (plus learning it concurrently with English as a child, thanks to my great aunt who was a native speaker). So I'm on the train in Quebec and making polite small talk with the woman next to me and it's going pretty well and she asks me what I do and I say "je travaille avec les vaches et les..." (I work with cows and...) and I forgot the word for sheep so I just do a very realistic baa and she laughs and goes "moutons!" and I nod and go "oui, merci, moutons".

(on that same trip I also managed to also mix up "poutine" and "putain" and accidentally excitedly announce a restaurant had gluten-free hookers, for which I have no excuse except that it had been a long week and alcohol was involved and honestly both of those incidents were pretty funny)

I actually really like the thing when you're starting to get the hang of a new language, enough to understand and say simple sentences but you gotta get creative to get more complex thoughts across, like a puzzle. I remember a time in the restortation school when a classmate who wasn't natively finnish and did her best anyway dropped something and sighed, telling me "every day is monday this week. I have had four mondays this week." And I understood.

I don't think I speak much of spanish anymore, but in the nursing school training period I did there, I did manage to get by with making weird Tarzan sentences. I got a nosebleed at some point and startled another nurse. Not knowing the words "humidity" or "stress", I managed to string together: "This is ok. It is hot, it is cold, I have a bad day, I am sad, I have blood. This is normal for me." And she understood.

And sometimes you just say things weird, but it's better than not saying it. One time, I was stuck in a narrow hallway behind someone walking really slowly with a walker, and he apologised for being in the way. I was not in any hurry, but didn't know the spanish word for "hurry", but I did know enough words to try to circumvent it by borrowing the english "I have all the time in the world."

The man burst into one of those cackling old man laughters that they do when something in this world still manages to surprise them. He had to be somewhere between 70 and a 100 years old, and I guess if there was one thing he wasn't expecting to hear today, it would be a random blond vaguely baltic-looking fuck casually announce that he is the sole owner and keeper of the very concept of time.

[rosegolden13]

Dad!Simon thoughts for today :D He’s a girl dad, your honor.

With the mouth on that man, Simon Riley definitely has the absolute sassiest little toddler. She’s only three and hardly goes up to his thigh but she will straight up tell him no. It’s a forceful “no”, too, direct and intense, just like her dad. It's even more ridiculous, too, because she's picked up a bit on his accent. Honestly, she’s a delight for you, normally agreeing with a sweet little “yes, mama!” if you tell her it’s time for bed or that she needs to eat just a few more vegetables but her dad does not get the same sweet temperament all of the time. 

You’re on the carpeted floor of her bedroom with photo albums sprawled about, trying to tire out your toddler before bed by showing her your wedding pictures. She’s tired of all the many picture books you and Simon normally read her. Besides, she loves pressing her tiny fingers to the images, squealing with delight as you point out everyone in the images. “See, baby? There’s mama, and your daddy, and here’s your Uncle Johnny, too.”

“Mama, so pretty!” She admires the photographs of you in white the most, tracing her fingers over the fabric of your dress as if to feel it through the image.

When Simon tries to join in, though, his eyes also lingering on the solo images of you in your dress, he doesn’t get the same praise you do. “Is daddy not pretty, too-?” Before he can even complete the playful question in that gruff voice of his, your daughter is sending him a glare.

“Shhh! Don’t talk!” She plops herself into his lap, her little form curled up against him. Her words are blunt and direct in the way only kids can be. 

You have to hold back a laugh as Simon looks down at her in astonishment. He pokes her side, tickling her plush little tummy. “It’s like tha’, huh? I can’t talk but you can use me as a chair? You’ve been spendin’ too much time with your Uncle Johnny. Spoiled thing, you are.” Her shrill giggles fill the room as she wiggles in his lap.

“You sure that sass is not from you, my love?” You ask with an amused raise of your brows.

“You callin’ me mouthy?”

“I am.”

He just huffs out a laugh.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Based on the idea of having a sensitive nose in the omegaverse, poly 141 x reader)

The air in the meeting room was dense with overlapping scents: leather, citrus, gunpowder, faint traces of cigar smoke. It was suffocating. You had been doing your best to keep a neutral face, to not draw attention to the way your sensitive nose wrinkled every few seconds as the mingling aromas assaulted your senses.

You weren’t trying to be rude; it wasn’t anyone’s fault that their scents were this potent. It was just your lot in life to have a nose that picked up everything. And you were part of this stupid task force, which meant you were constantly surrounded by some of the most intense scents imaginable.

It was John who caught your reaction first. The alpha was sitting across the table, arms crossed, earthy, smoky scent rolling off him in waves. His cigar habit didn’t help matters; it clung to his clothes, his hair, his skin- every part of him. Your nose twitched involuntarily as another wave hit you, and his brow furrowed deeply.

“You alright there, love?” he asked, low and curious, though there was an edge to it.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied quickly, forcing a smile and trying to breathe through your mouth instead.

His sharp eyes stayed on you for a beat longer, and the corner of his mouth tugged downward. He didn’t believe you, but he let it slide.

Soap, however, wasn’t as subtle. He had been perched on the edge of his chair, citrusy, spicy scent practically bouncing off the walls. The man smelled like an explosion at an orange grove- sharp and tangy, with an undercurrent of something metallic that always made your head throb.

“Are you wrinklin’ your nose at me, lass?” He asked, accent thick, tone mock-wounded.

“No! No, not at all.” You stammered, shaking your head. God, what you wouldn’t sacrifice to leave this room…

“Looked like a bloody insult to me,” Johnny teased, though there was something almost earnest in his pout. “Dinnae think I smell that bad, eh? Gaz, back me up here!”

Gaz- bless him- was seated beside you. His scent was a calm balm in the storm: a light, fresh breeze with subtle hints of cedar. It didn’t overpower your senses. It was safe, grounding. You leaned ever so slightly in his direction, seeking refuge without realizing it.

“I think it’s just her nose being sensitive,” Kyle said smoothly, shooting you a kind look. He always seemed to know when you were struggling, always gave you a quiet out. “We probably smell stronger to her.”

“You mean Price and Johnny stink.” Ghost rumbled from his spot at the back of the room, scoffing in amusement.

You glanced at him, and, God, he really was no better. He was a mixture of John and Johnny- a heavy, musky scent tinged with smoke and gunpowder, like he’d been living in a war zone for years. It was hard to breathe when he was near, though his stoic demeanor meant he didn’t take it as personally as the others.

“Oi, I don’t stink!” Johnny protested. “I smell fresh, like citrus and energy.”

“Explosives aren’t energy.” Ghost deadpanned.

“You all smell fine,” you said, hasty and desperate, your voice thin and shaky. “I just have a… sensitive nose. That’s all.”

“You’ve been wrinkling it all bloody morning,” Price grumbled, arms crossing tighter. “If you don’t like something, just say it. We’re alphas; we can handle it.”

“I don’t dislike it!” you blurted. “It’s just… strong. All of you smell so strong, and my nose is a little… overwhelmed.”

Kyle chuckled softly, a sound that eased the tension in the room. “Can’t really blame her, can you? The three of you probably do smell like a bloody armory to her.”

Price frowned, clearly still annoyed, but Johnny looked contemplative, leaning toward you with a curious expression. “You’re not lying, are you? Your nose is just sensitive?”

“Very.” You admitted, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m not trying to insult you, I promise. It’s just… a lot.”

Johnny relaxed a little, though his pout remained. “Alright, lass. I suppose I can let you off the hook this time. But you should’ve said something earlier.”

“And deal with you taking it more personally than you already do? No, thank you.” you muttered under your breath.

Kyle snorted beside you, and you turned to him with a grateful smile. “You’re the only one who doesn’t make my nose hurt, by the way. Thanks for that.”

The other three bristled instantly.

“What?” Price barked, looking genuinely offended.

“Gaz doesn’t smell any less than we do.” Ghost growled, eyes narrowing beneath his balaclava, and Johnny threw his hands up in exasperation.

“She’s playing favorites, that’s what this is!”

“It’s not favoritism!” You said quickly, holding your hands up defensively. “He just smells calmer. It’s not as… intense.”

Kyle, smug but silent, leaned back in his chair with a knowing smirk. He didn’t say a word, but the satisfied glint in his eyes said it all: he’d won.

Of course, this only made the other three more competitive.

“Maybe you just need to get used to it.” Price suggested, peering at you.

“Aye,” Johnny added, grin wide and cheeky. “Maybe we need to stick closer to you so your nose can adjust.”

“Or maybe you all need to tone it down.” you shot back, though your voice lacked bite, and they just stared at you even more intently- even Ghost.

It was going to be a long day.

[c0eu4]

Charles speaking dirty in french🤭🤭🤭🤭

CL16 | Dirty boy ♡

Summary: Y/n keeps bothering her boyfriend until he gives in and shows her how to be a good girl.

Warning: dirty talk, smut, no protect sex, dom!Charles, sub!reader, mean!Charles, handcuffs, a bit of hitting (soft)

A/N: enjoy<3

Translation: mon amour= my love | Chéri.e= darling

MASTERLIST requests are open

She sits on his lap, her hand passing through his brown hair. ''Mon amour, I'm trying to work.'' If there are two things that the young woman loves, it's annoying her boyfriend when he's trying to work and his horribly sexy French accent.

She kisses his cheek, her other hand running over his abs through his t-shirt. He feels a shiver down his spine, but doesn't give in to temptation. ''Chérie, please.''

She doesn't listen to him and kiss the crook of his neck, nibbing it softly. His hand found its way to her waist, rubbing it softly. ''Don't you want to take a break?'' She let her hand go under his t-shirt, using her fingerstip to touch his abs.

He sighs, from pleasure? Annoying? She does not know but she doesn't care. Her hand under his t-shirt keeps going up, her mouth continuing to stimulate his neck by leaving a few red marks and lovebites.

He didn't push her away, trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him. He begins to feel tight in his pants, her ass wiggling against him and her fingertips tracing the vertical line of his abs.

His hand which was on her waist goes down to caress her ass, squeezing it softly. ''T'as envie que je te baise hein?'' you want me to fuck you, huh?

She doesn't understand what he said but can't help and moan softly against his soft skin. He grabs her jaw and forces her head up to kiss her. She moans into the kiss and Charles takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, caressing the inside of her cheeks.

She removes his headphone and places it on the desk, running her hand through his hair. He picks her up and moves her into the bedroom, dropping her on the bed. ''Qu'est ce que je vais faire de toi?'' What am I going to do with you?

She feels the excitement build even more in her body, his accent completely turning her brain. ''Tu es si irrésistible..'' You're so irresistible.

He removes his t-shirt, finally revealing his abs that she loves to caress so much. ''Take off all of your clothes.'' His voice was firm yet sweet. She listens to him and takes off her clothes, revealing her underwear to him. ''I said all of your clothes.'' She can't help but blush, even though Charles has seen her naked so many times.

She takes off her last clothes and watches him rummage through the drawer of his nightstand.

''Is it ok if I tie your wrist to the bed?'' She bit her lower lips. ''Yes. You can do whatever you want with me, my love.''

Charles smirks, taking off two handcuffs from the drawer, deftly tying one end around one of her wrist, securing it to the headboard. He repeated this process with her other wrist, leaving her bound and vulnerable in front of him.

He takes his time to take off his pants and joins her in bed, getting on top of her and one of his hands already trailing between her thighs. ''Je parie que tu es toute mouillée, mh?'' I bet you're soaking, mh?

She whines, wanting him to touch her. ''Please.. Charlie..'' He chuckles, his cold hand touching her inner thighs. She can't help but move her hips to try and show him her impatience. His fingers move up slowly and he slides one finger between her wet folds. ''Toute mouillée et rien que pour moi.'' All wet and only for me.

She closes her eyes, trying to move her hands but can't. Her head fell back against the pillow with a long moan of his name when she felt his lips against her bundle of nerves.

She can't help but squirm with pleasure as he continues to stimulate her with his tongue. And just as she was about to cum, Charles suddenly stopped and moved his kisses back to her stomach.

''What the hell Charles!'' she shouted, frustrated. He laughs, kissing her ribs. His laugh is deep and dark, almost frightening.

He rubs himself against her wet fold, making her moan deeply. He can feel the wet through his boxer and it turns him so much on. ''Putain Y/n tu vas me faire jouir juste parce que t'es autant mouillée.'' Damn Y/n you're gonna make me cum just because of your wetness.

''Charles..I need you!'' She whines, shaking violently under him. He doesn't wait longer and takes off his boxer and thrust roughly into her tight and wet cunt.

''Merde.. t'es si serré..'' shit.. you're so tight..

He doesn't wait any longer to almost pull out and go back in roughly.

''Tu la prends si bien.'' You take it so well.

If he keeps talking like that, she'll probably cum faster than expected.

''Oh oui, t'es si bonne.. ma pute..'' Oh yes, you're so good.. my whore..

''Ch-Charles!'' She moaned loudly before cumming hardly around his cock. Charles takes it upon himself and holds back from cumming as he feels her walls tightening around his cock. He speeds up his movements, his hips hitting hers with a sensual sound of flesh smacking and a wet sound.

His hand hits the side of her thigh. ''Dit moi que tu m'appartient.'' Tell me you're mine.

She doesn't understand what he says and moans loudly, not having time to recover from her orgasm.

Charles hit her thigh a second time, this time leaving a red mark of his hand. ''Dit moi que you're mine!''

Her back arches a second time, her eyes filling with tears. ''I-I'm yours !'' He moaned loudly, but kept holding himself. ''En Français.'' in French.

The feeling is almost unbreathable and she can barely find her breath. ''Je..J-je appartiens.'' She managed to moan, with her sensual English accent.

''Putain oui..Bonne fille.. Mon jouet baisable préféré..'' Fuck yes.. good girl.. my favorite fucktoy..

Charles redoubles his efforts, showing his breathing and dumbbell physique in his thrusts. The room is filled with their moans. One of Charles' hands finds its way between her legs, playing with her clit.

She doesn't wait any longer to come brutally a second time, tears leave her eyes to roll down her cheeks.

''Oh oui.. serre moi fort..'' Oh yes.. tight me hard..

Charles continues to thrust inside her until he reaches his own climax, his hot seed feeling her up perfectly.

''Ah! Putain! Y/n! T'es trop bonne!'' Ah! Fuck! Y/n! You're too good!

He crashes into her, still being careful not to hurt her. After a few minutes of catching their breath, he pulls out of her with a wet noise and one last moan leaves her lips.

He unties her hands, massaging her wrist to relieve it. ''Ça va, mon chat?'' All good, my cat?

She turns around and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her head into his neck. ''That was great. As usual.''

He can't help but smirk, his hands rubbing her back. ''Je sais que t'aime bien quand je suis méchant avec toi..'' I know you like it when I'm mean with you..

One of his hand goes lower and gently strokes her red thigh. She kisses his neck, already nibbing on it again.

''Ready for round two?''

[ditzydoe444]

Thinking about farmhand!Jason or cowboy!Jason who works on readers parents farm. She still lives with her parents to help them with the farm work and obviously has a big fat crush on Jason. Like when he’s chopping wood sweaty and shirtless or how he can lift a hay bale with only one hand AHHHHHHHHHH. Anyway!!!actually just need Jason to fuck her in the back of the barn (probs in the haystack OOPS) and he’s covering her mouth as he’s rutting into her cuz he can’t let them get caught and let everyone know what a slut the town sweetheart is can he?

-🍼

MDNI 18+

a/n: i did cowboy jason because i love them

jason wasn’t dumb, he knew about your wondering eyes staring at his body when he chopped wood, or how you would pretend to ‘read’ outside when he took care of the farm shirtless on a hot day. you grew up in a sheltered household, living on the farm far away from town didn’t help. “jacey you need help?” you spoke sweetly as you watched him chop wood, his muscles flexing and the slight tan on his skin glistened.

“nah don’t worry ‘bout that sweetheart ‘ve got it.”

he thought your not so discrete crush on him was adorable, as you grew up isolated you had very little friends hence why you followed him around like a little puppy.

it was harmless until the two of you started fucking.

“j-jacey jacey,” you panted as he fucked you in the barn, rutting against you as you laid on the haystack. it wasn’t comfortable by any means, but having a giant man built like a greek god buried deep inside you rubbing your gummy walls making your mind go blank, how could you complain? the barn was the safest place out of the farm, the only area where your parents didn’t wander around because they thought you were too prim and proper for a dirty place like it. “so good sweetheart you’re so tight,” he groaned as his nails dug into your soft flesh.

“so deep, so big,” you mumbled like a mantra, your eyes wide and dazed from the pleasure whilst a sheen of sweat covered your soft skin. one of jason’s hand covered your mouth, “ssshh sweetheart, need to keep quiet for me alright?”

jason was well loved by her parents, they saw him as a respectable man who helped the farm, not a man desperate and greedy for their daughter’s pussy.

he watched as the bulge in your stomach moved, how your small cunt was able to accomodate to his size alone was mesmerising. he watched as your hand weakly traced his biceps, going through every little detail and tracing the veins along it. “you’re so big jacey,” you mumbled though he came out muffled due to his hand.

he chuckled softly, kissing your neck as he continued to rut into you. “just for you sweetheart, a princess like you needs a man.”

jason was a possessive man, there was no way in hell that he would have some sort of preppy boy date you. you needed a man who would pick you up on dates in a large rusty truck, one that could build the house of your dreams with enough land that you could run and giggle along, and reassure you softly when you need it the most.

he knew your parents thought about marrying some sort of 9-5 office man in the small town, but that just wouldn’t make you happy. you were a princess, you had dreams that a skimpy cooperate man couldn’t provide. jason could build you the house of your dreams, a porch with a swing so you could read and admire him as he worked, a sunroom so you could bathe in sunlight without getting out when it’s hot and sticky with the bugs and of course small pink details and accents scattered everywhere for you to find when you’re bored.

“mmm, jacey ‘m close,” you whined as you shut your eyes from the feeling on your lower stomach, his strong hands gently coaxing your orgasm as they squeezed your lower stomach. he watches as your glossy pussy clenched around him, almost milking him. “come on sweetheart you can do it, just keep it quiet can’t have the town knowing i’m fucking the neighbourhood’s princess.”

[midnightbluebells03]

Request: The reader and ellie are friends, but the reader doesn't know if she likes girls or not, so ellie offers to let her experiment on her. Friends to lovers and mutual pining. 💓 a happy ending, preferably. Up to you whether or not to include smut!

FALLING INTO ME

CW - hair pulling, mentions of past experiences with men, oral (R receiving), thigh grinding

WC - about 2k - no outbreak AU

Leave me Ellie or Abby requests x

This was wrong right? Infront of you your childhood best friend Ellie sits crossed legged on her bed. The faded plaid sheets that have replaced dinosaurs from her youth clutched in your unforgiving grasp.

"We don't have to do anything" she says barely above a whisper. Like she's afraid to even suggest it. The air is tight, hot, like someone lit a fire and let the smoke invade the room. But there's Ellie. Her hand sitting on your thigh as her thumb swipes across bare skin, the floral sleep shorts you had opteded for letting her trace over it with no barrier. Her back pressed to the headboard like it's the only thing keeping her sitting upright. "I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry". Her hand retreats with a slight tremble.

Just ten minutes ago you were sharing a bottle of some cheap wine Ellie had got from the corner store. Giggling and reminiscing on your intertwined lives, awkward teen phases that melted into adulthood when you let it slip.

You think you might like girls.

Of course you weren't sure, you'd never done anything with a girl, but all your experiences with boys just felt empty. Felt like a chore more than fun. And who better to tell than Ellie? She had been out for years, having had her fair share of girlfriends despite her slightly awkward attitude at times. When the word 'experiment' left your lips you saw a glint in her eyes.

It made her pause, wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and place the bottle onto the nightstand. Making space for it amongst the clutter. The way she looked at you made you tilt your head in confusion, until she opened her mouth.

"You could experiment with me"

"Ellie" you finally speak up, grasping her wrist gently to halt her movement. Fingers grazing over her tattoo and making her gaze snap from the floor to your eyes. God she did really have the prettiest eyes. You'd always thought so, oftentimes comparing the hues to the fresh grass during summer or the moss growing deep in your parents garden. "I want to"

"Yeah?" She looks like she doesn't believe you, eyebrows slightly knitted together. You swallow hard before nodding, Ellie beckons you over with her hand. "Cm'here" when you inch closer you can't help but watch how Ellie flicks her tounge over her slightly chapped lips. Feeling her slowly move to hold onto your waist as you start to straddle her lap while your hands rest on her shoulders. "If you want to stop just tell me okay?"

"Promise" you feel your heart speed up as Ellie leans in. Far enough where you could kiss her but she let's you make the choice. So you do. Pressing your lips to hers and letting your eyes flutter shut.

And it makes it feel like a firework has went off in your chest.

The two of you mesh together like puzzle pieces, soft and slow while your mind races with a million thoughts. You can feel how Ellie is holding back, her hands not moving from their position on your waist. But after a few minutes when you rock your hips forward slightly you could almost swear she groans into your mouth. So you do it again, making her pull back from the kiss.

"Can I touch you?" She was always like this, always asking a million question. Things like if you wanted the last slice of pizza or what movie to put on. She always let you take the lead, like she was afraid of making the wrong choice. You nod but she just chuckles softly. "Words darling" it makes you want to clentch your thighs together, the way her her accent slips into that semi texan drawl that she picked up from Joel.

Your hands come over the top of hers, guding her up and under your tank top "Please Els"

Her fingers are calloused from the years of guitar, running up your skin slowly. Too slowly. But you don't want to complain, not with the way she's looking at you. Eyes following her hands as she pushes the fabric further up your body. You decide to speed it up a little. Taking the fabric in your own hands and pulling it over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room.

Normally this is when you'd start to feel weird. Your body would almost stiffen and your brain would be flooded with thoughts of leaving. A deep guilt or twisted knot in your throat.

But not now.

Not with Ellie.

Instead your stomach tightens at how her eyes take you in. Slowly scanning over you like you're the most breath taking thing she's even seen. Her hands pause just before reaching your breasts, her pupils so blown her green eyes as almost black as she looks up at you.

"Take it off?" She whispers. Her finger coming up to ghost over the band of your bra. You nod, reaching around with shaky hands to undo the clasp. Letting the bra fall onto Ellie's lap in the sliver of space between you two. She picks it up and moves it to the side, carefully. Like it was priceless even though it was the cheapest one you owned. Some target bralette that was on sale. It was nothing like how your previous partners treated your belongings. With them it was always thrown across the room like trash, nothing more than an obstacle to their pleasure. "You're so- you're just so- fuck" Ellie mumbles before chewing on her bottom lip. Her cheeks flushed the sweetest shade of pink as her hands slowly creep up your sides, inching towards your breasts.

"Ellie" you whine softly, the ache between your legs become worse with every passing second. Like you were dying for her to just touch you. It makes her lock eyes with you, as her thumb runs over your nipple. Making them stiffen and forcing a soft gasp from your lips.

"Just tell me what you want baby" her lips trail down your neck slowly as she mumbles into your skin. "I'll give you everything just tell me"

Your voice cracks slightly as you finally manage to say "Touch me"

You can feel as a slight smirk creeps onto her lips. Her fingers continuing to toy with your nipples. Just enough to make you needy but not enough to scratch the itch in your core. "I am". The faux innocence in her voice makes you roll your eyes.

"Ellie" you huff, feeling your face heat up at what you're about to say. "Fuck me please? Wanna know what it's like" with that Ellie leans into your neck fully while her hands keep on your chest, starting to place kisses down your skin as your head tips back. You can feel her smile as she moves further down, nipping slightly at your pulse point. Your hand moves to her hair, gripping softly while your hips uncontrollably start to rock against her. Desperate for any friction. Ellie pulls back but before you can complain she taps your hip.

"Straddle my thigh" you tilt you head confused but she gives you a smile before brushing a lose strand of hair out your face. "Trust me". So you do what she's asks, shifting until your legs are either side of her thigh. Ellie brings her hands to your hips, starting to steadily rock you against her. You gasp then moan softly. Almost teary eyed at finally getting some real touch from her. Even if it's clad by several layers of fabric. "See? How's that feel?"

"Good" you say with a shaky voice as Ellie sets your pace. Guiding you with a tight grip. "Feels good Ellie fuck"

"Mm" she coos softly, kissing over your collarbones before nipping at the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder meet. "Just gotta get you ready yeah? Get you all wet for when I fuck you so good you'll forget about all the guys that couldn't make you cum". Her lips move down to your hardened nipples, wrapping around one of them as you throw you head back in pleasure.

Now this Ellie?

This was a whole new person. Like her awkward shell broke away and left someone who you were going to be thinking about forever. Suddenly all the girls she managed to get with make sense, because she's hardly touched you and you're soaking through your panties.

"Fuck" your hands tighten on her shoulders as her tounge rolls over your nipple. You still your hips, almost afraid that she'll make you cum just from this and that makes her pause. Detaching from you with a confused look.

Her eyebrows knit together and her hand comes up to cup your hot cheek. "You okay?"

Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the years of subtle crushing. Or maybe it's the way your almost certain there's a wet patch on Ellie's pyjama bottoms but you can't help stumbling out. "Fuck me Ellie"

Her hand snakes back down to your hip and she flips you over, making you squeal as your back hits the sheets. A slight giggle leaving your lips before Ellie crashes hers with yours. Her hand moving down your stomach to the band of your shorts. She pulls back but you don't give her a a chance to ask, already pulling off your shorts and panties. Kicking them onto the floor as Ellie moves down to between your legs.

"What you doing?" You ask with a slight tilt to your head, propping yourself onto your elbows to look down at her.

"What's it looks like?" She asks with a slight chuckle, starting to pepper kisses up your inner thighs but pausing before reaching your dripping pussy. "What? No one eat you out before?". Her smile fades when you shake your head, eyes darting between you and the sight before her. "That's just criminal dude"

Before you can comment on the fact she's just called you dude her tounge licks a fat strip through your folds. Making you gasp and grip the sheets. Skilled tounge circling your clit while her eyes stay focused on you. With a certain flick your hand flies to grab onto her auburn locks, tugging from the root as Ellie moans into you.eyes fluttering shut as your hips start to rutt against her face, changing a high you've never even come close to with others.

"Ellie" you whine as your back arches, soft pants filling the room as her hands creep up your hips and pull you closer. Making you moan so loudly you're almost certain anyone walking by outside would've heard. "Fuck, fuck, Els- gonna-!". Ellie doesn't falter, doesn't give you a second to breath as your orgasm rushes through you. Hips desperately trying to escape Ellie's grasp as she works you through it, no sign of caring about the way your thighs clamp around her head unforgivingly.

By the time she pulls away to lick your slick from her lips your brain is fuzzy. Staring up at the same ceiling you helped pull glow in the dark stickers off as Ellie taps your shin.

"You...you okay?" Her voice sounds so small. You finally manage to hold yourself up to look at her. Lips swollen from your teeth sinking into them and face hot to the touch.

"That...Els that-" your words get caught in your throat so instead you reach for the collar of her shirt. Pulling her up until your lips crash together, the taste of yourself filling your mouth as Ellie places a hand on the back of your neck.

When you two part she gives you a cocky smile. Gliding her fingers across your cheek before moving the loose babyhairs out of your face. "I'm gonna take that as a five star review then?"

You giggle before fake thinking. "Hmm I don't know Els think I need to try it again, yknow get all the data".

She nods with pursed lips, a serious expression taking over her face. "For science".

"For science".

[storiesofsvu]

Captain's Office

*NOT MY GIF* I wanted a very particular vibe for this fic and tumblr's function sucks! Found of google, credit goes to @fourteenthofaugust !*

Olivia Benson x fem!reader

2.3k Warnings: language, smut, slight teasing, minor Captain kink, somewhat public sex but not really?

Your morning was spent working from home, your afternoon spent in the courtroom followed by a few hours working through the case with the ADA. This mean you’d forgone your usual look of detective, one ready to race through the streets of New York tackling perps and opted for a softer more approachable and friendly one of credible witness to the case who understood everything at stake. Your hair curled around your shoulders, loosened as the day passed, your regular blazer over top, now at the end of the day finding its home in the back of your car. Dress exposed, professionally enough, but hugging your body, fitted enough to accent the curve of your ass perfectly.

Which is exactly why you thought you’d have a slight upper hand when you showed back up to the precinct, the only light coming from Olivia’s office.

Her text had pinged your phone roughly an hour ago, telling you to meet her back there rather than home. At first you thought maybe she’d had dinner delivered to work instead, choosing to finish up the paperwork rather than bring it with her but the silence of the bull pen told you otherwise, there was no one else left in the building.

“You… wanted to see me?” You asked softly, perching in her doorway, a soft smile on your cheeks.

Olivia tore her gaze away from the file folder in front of her, flipping it shut as her eyes dragged up your body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She shoved her work off to the side, removing her glasses to place on top of the pile before she leant back in her chair and your breath caught in your throat. She was still in her uniform blues, her black nail polish catching in the low light as a piece of her bangs swung loose from her now somewhat messy updo.

“Close the door.” She instructed, her voice low and you did as she asked, waiting for her next order, “c’mere…”

Two of her fingers crooked and you nearly stumbled over your high heeled feet as your heart began to thud in your chest, heading in the direction of a chair in front of her desk. The corner of her lips flicked up into a grin, her eyes darkening as your fingers wrapped around the chair arm.

“Uh-uh.” She shook her head, fingers tapping the side of the desk she was sitting behind, “come here, pretty girl.”

Gulping, you rounded the desk, propping yourself up against the edge while she leaned even further back in her chair. Her head tilted for a moment, smirk evident on her lips while her eyes traced every curve of your body, lingering where your skirt rode up your thighs, the way your chest strained against the neckline. Reaching out her hand grasped your leg, sliding up until it met the hem of your skirt and she nearly chuckled at the way your breathing picked up while she played with the fabric.

“I was right.”

“Sorry?” You managed out, your fingers gripping at the wood behind you.

“You.” Her eyes twinkled, her hand beginning to ghost up your body, sliding up your stomach, delicately making its way between your breasts, avoiding where you really wanted her touch before gently wrapping around your throat as she rose to her feet in front of you, “liking me in uniform.”

“I…”

“Ah!” Her hand tightened around your throat ever so, “don’t lie to me sweetheart. I can feel the way your pulse is racing already.”

You gulped again, noticing the way your throat bobbed under her hand and the way her eyes darkened at the sensation. You couldn’t help the way your lips parted, whether an invitation for hers or an attempt to get more oxygen to your suddenly heaving lungs you weren’t sure.

“Yes…” you breathed out, “I like it.”

“Yes what?” Her chin tilted down as her fingers squeezed your throat.

“I like it Captain.”

“Good girl.” She smiled softly, her hand letting go of your neck, sliding down it and her fingers began to trace across your collarbone before dipping to the curve of your chest, swirling around until she was circling your nipple, one then the other.

Your gulped, taking a shuddering breath, doing your best to maintain eye contact, Olivia’s gaze burning into yours, her eyes darkening the more she toyed with your body. A cocky smirk remained plastered on her lips as her fingers repeated their patterns on the other side of your chest before finding your sternum, trailing lower and lower until she thought she would find the hem of your underwear. When her fingertips found only smoothness her brow cocked, her head tilting as she clicked her tongue.

“No panties?” She questioned, “dirty girl.” Her fingers slipped under your dress, tracing up your inner thigh until you let out a little whimper.

“Please…”

She chuckled, the tip of her middle finger trailing through your folds, collecting just enough wetness to circle around your clit, “shame I don’t have the strap.” Her finger tapped your clit and you shivered, “could have bent you over my desk, fucked you nice and hard…” she leant down, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, “nice and deep” she repeated the action on the other side while her palm caressed at your cunt. “my cock buried in that pretty pussy of yours.” The tips of her fingers slid between your pussy lips, just far enough from where you wanted them, “over… and over… again….” Each time she paused she pulled her hand away from the heat of your cunt before gently hitting it, your whines getting louder with each touch. “I can just imagine the way you’d sound.” Her teeth nipped at your neck as her hand disappeared from under your skirt. You let out a frustrated huff, your hands coming to clutch at her uniform, “you’re practically ready to beg right now, aren’t you?”

She raised a brow but you knew better than to respond and because of that you were rewarded instantly, her leg surged forward, knee bracing against the desk between your thighs and a gasp left your lips when your bare pussy met the muscle.

“Oh god…”

Her hands found your waist, grinding you down onto her thigh, guiding you to roll your hips as you bit your lip in an attempt to stifle any noises. Olivia’s fingers squeezed into your waist, moving you faster, the fabric of her pants brushing against your clit each time you moved on her leg, sending pleasure soaring through your entire body. The slow build up of fluttering in your stomach became fire prickling your skin, breaking it out in goosebumps as your pussy began to pulse around nothing.

“You’re always such a good girl for your Captain.” Olivia purred, a hand briefly leaving your waist to tug down the neckline of your dress, your breasts spilling out, nipples hardening in the cool air of her office.

“Mmhmm…” you nodded feverishly; eyes wide as you looked up at her with need splayed across your face.

“Don’t worry.” Chuckling, she leant down, her lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking it into her mouth and your mouth fell open with a quiet moan, “I’m going to let you come sweet girl.” Her breath was hot against your sensitive skin, “I just want to hear you first.” The tip of her tongue shot out, flicking your nipple before blowing a cool stream of air against it and you whimpered, your hand coming to tangle into her hair, further mussing the updo. “That’s it…” she urged, her mouth sucking at your skin again, teeth gently sinking in right as she flexed her thigh against your bare cunt. “You like it when I touch you like this?” Her hand came up, pinching at one nipple while she sucked the other into her mouth.

“Yes…” You breathed out, your hips grinding down harder onto her.

“You like the way it feels when that pretty pussy drags over my thigh?” Her voice was husky, breath hot on your skin as she spoke, the hand she had on your waist tilted your hips back while her thigh pressed up. A loud gasp escaped your lips as your clit directly hit the muscle of her leg.

“Fuck.” Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands desperately gripping the fabric on her shoulders, “yes, oh god yes.”

“I already know you like being bitten.” She confirmed it when her teeth sunk into the underside of your breast and you groaned, arching into the touch, “but what else?”

“Please….” You whined and she chuckled.

“You’re practically shaking sweet girl.” Her tongue swiped over your nipple again, “what would you like?”

“Fingers…” your lips parted, your breath coming out in quick pants as your hips began to roll even faster over her thigh, “need you inside me. Wanna feel you.”

“Hmm?” Her mouth left your chest, her hands wrapping around your waist as she stilled your movement, shifting you off her leg so you were perched on the edge of her desk and your eyes flew open. Her hands flicked up the skirt of your dress and her tongue darted out to wet her lips at the sight of your cunt glistening in the low light of the office, your juices smeared across her pant leg. “You’re dripping already,” she reached out, her fingers dipping into your pussy, “you want to come around my fingers? Make a mess all over my desk?”

“Yes!” You replied, probably too eagerly and a blush crept onto your cheeks, “please. Need to.”

“Alright sweet girl.” Leaning in, Olivia pressed her lips to yours just as her fingers sunk into your cunt and she swallowed down the deep moan that left your throat. “Good girls do get rewarded after all.”

Her mouth quickly returned to your chest, sucking a nipple in between her lips, scraping at it with her teeth as her fingers began to pump in and out of your drenched pussy. Your head dropped back, a muffled cry from behind your closed lips as you dropped back onto your elbows for support. Fire was racing under your skin, your pussy already clenching down around her fingers and you both knew it wasn’t going to take very long before Olivia had your entire body shaking. With each thrust of her fingers the noises coming from your pussy got louder, wet and messy like the kisses she was leaving on your chest. Her teeth sunk into the sensitive skin around your nipple right as her fingers crooked and you cried out.

“Fuck!” Your voice was hoarse, your thighs quaking around her as she continued her movements, each time pressing harder and longer against the extra sensitive spot inside you.

“What do you say?” She nearly growled, her free hand moving to rub your clit and your hips nearly shot off the desk.

“Please Captain!” The coil deep in your stomach was winding tighter and tighter, the need for your release driving you wild enough that tears were beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

“Please what?” She asked with a particularly hard pinch on your clit and you couldn’t help but moan.

“Please can I come?” You whimpered, “oh god, m’so close, please Captain.”

“You may.”

Olivia sucked your breast back into her mouth, her fingers working you perfectly, knowing just how to fuck you, just when she needed to crook her fingers again, just how hard to press and just how fast to rub your clit. She could feel your juices trickling down her wrist, your pussy clenching tighter and tighter.

“That’s it baby. Squeeze my fingers, let me feel you come.” She pressed her fingers even harder, her entire body rocking into the thrusts and with one final push of her hand you were crying out.

Your legs instantly wrapped around her, pulling her impossibly close to you as your body began to quake, whimpers and breathless moans leaving your lips. Your hand shot out, tugging her to you by the tie, ruining the perfect lines of her captain’s uniform as you gasped against her lips. A sturdy arm wrapped around your waist, hugging you to her while she peppered your face with gentle kisses and she slowly fucked you through your orgasm. When you finally let out a heavy breath, your head dropping onto her shoulder and your body nearly limp in her arms she slipped her fingers out of your pussy.

You let out a small whine, lifting your head and she couldn’t help but smile at the way you obediently opened your mouth for her to slide her fingers into so you could suck them clean.

“Good girl.” She cooed, her free hand stroking the side of your face, smoothing back your mussed up hair.

Her fingers slipped out of your mouth and she leant forward to press a gentle kiss to it while her hands readjusted your dress, neatly tucking your tits back under the fabric. Olivia took a moment to survey you, fixing the twisted strap of your dress, neatly combing her fingers through your hair, twisting the strands back into place and sliding a couple of bobby pins in properly. Her hands gently tapped your knees as she stepped back and you closed your legs so she could smooth the bottom of your dress back down. Her eyes slowly drifted back up your body, aside from your tinged cheeks and the way your lips were still parted in a final attempt to catch your breath, you looked completely normal, like you’d only stopped in the office to pick her up from work.

“Now, how about we get you home?” She held her hand out for you to take and helped you hop of the desk, a smile on her cheeks as you instantly nuzzled into her side.

“Yes please.”

“You better not be getting all tired on me,” she chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I wasn’t kidding about bending you over and fucking you hard enough to make you scream.”

_______________

Before people start flooding the ask box/comments, NO! There WILL NOT be a part two. If you come asking for it, that will not help the situation, it will just make it worse.

_________

@red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @svulife-rl rl @svushots @lesbianspacecowboy @wannabe-fic-reader @lawandorderimagines @venablemayfairgoode @alexusonfire @mysticfalls01 @beccabarba @littlegaybabe @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @enduringalexblake @wosoimagines @solemnnova @infernumlilith @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @wandas-wife @emskisworld @lawandorderuswnt @wandasbrat @hbkpop @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @sia2raw @ladysc @narvaldetierra @dxtery @poisonedcrowns @momlifebehard @holycrapraewth @alexxavicry @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @temp0rary-bliss @gamma-rae-bursts

[vidals-harkness]

hey! Could I make a request of more agathario as users mothers? Reader goes with Agatha on the witches road and they reunite with mami Rio? And reader is young? Thanks!🤍

hola mi vida (agatha harkness, rio vidal)

summary: when mama takes you with her on the witch’s road, what can she do when you meet your mami again, after all the years of her vanishing?

fic type: fluff

pairings: agatha harkness x child!reader, rio vidal x child!reader

word count: 2.3k

It was just a normal afternoon—the air was calm, quiet, cool with the shy onset of autumn. The park was not deserted, as you sat on the swings, using a stick to trace patterns on the ground. Or rather, Wiccan symbols that the town children always saw you making (and made a point to stay away from you about).

It was only when you skipped home, sage and stick in hand, that you saw the door blown down, a random boy in the hallway all tied up, and your mother going off her rocker.

“Mama?” You questioned, confused.

“No time to talk, hon, grab that bag and let’s get in the car,” she said, pointing at your school bag on a chair.

“But mama we don’t—“ you began, confused, but she simply grabbed your bag, picked you up and whisked you away into the car. Or rather, Teen’s car.

“You trust me?” She asked, buckling you in.

You nodded, fidgeting with your stick. “Mhm,” you hummed.

She smiled and winked, linking her pinky with yours, kissing it gently. “Mama always protects you, okay?”

“Okay,” you giggled.

“So…she’s yours?” Teen asked, pointing at you in the backseat where you sat, playing with some sort of wooden puzzle from your bag.

“No,” Agatha said, sarcastically. “I picked up a random six year old in the park cause I’m a pedophile,”

At his gobsmacked expression, she frowned, irritated, “Of course she’s mine, pet, look! Don’t you see the resemblance?”

You look at Teen through the rearview mirror and smiled angelically. Apart from maybe your facial structure you took after Rio more than her.

“Doesn’t matter, just drive,” she sighed, irritated.

The first stop was Lilia’s house, which seemed like a nice place. Except the energy felt a little too buzzed for your liking.

“Alright hon, you don’t talk unless I tell you to, okay?” Agatha said, kneeling at your level, a smile on her face. “And if Mama makes a silly voice, you don’t question it,”

You nodded, smiling at her. “Okay, mama!”

“That’s my girl,” she said, pinching your cheek gently, standing up and putting her hair in a bun before wrapping a shawl around her shoulders.

The place was as odd as its energy, with you disliking the sound of clattering beads from the bead curtain, hand holding your favourite stick (rather a crooked wand Agatha didn't use anymore).

"Welcome to the curious," said Lilia, appearing from the back room.

You looked at the lady, frowning, "You're kooky,"

"Now, now, sweetheart, we ain't rude to the nice lady," Agatha spoke in a thick Southern accent. "Good day, madam, Oh. Thank you so much for seein’ us. We are hopin’ for a miracle today,"

You looked at Agatha weirdly, confused with her accent. She never talked like this usually...did she?

"This is my boy, Beauford, and my princess Charlotte here," she smiled, pointing at you both. When Teen went to protest, she shut him up, "He doesn’t talk much. He’s got social anxiety. Their daddy recently passed, and we miss him somethin’ awful."

A long while and several witches later, you stood in Agatha's basement with the other witches, happily vibing with their rendition of the Ballad. However, just as the door made itself known, the Salem Seven crashed into the house, Teen coming downstairs in a flurry of panic to scoop you up and dash down the Road's entrance.

The first trial passed, with only one casualty--Mrs. Davis, but it left you mostly shaken up. You had never seen so many witches hallucinate single-handedly before.

The forest was quiet, the only sound being that of the shovel scraping the ground as Teen dug a grave for Mrs. Hart.

You knelt next to the dead woman, tilting your head as you peered at her, poking her with your stick gently.

“Mama?” You asked, looking at Agatha. “Mama, she feels very not-alive,”

“Yeah hon,” she smiled, side-eyeing Jen. “Because Jen didn’t give her enough antidote so she is now not-alive,”

“Are you really badmouthing me to a six year old, Agatha?” Jen deadpanned. “How petty can you be?”

“Very, apparently,” Lilia rolled her eyes.

“Kooky lady is correct,” you nodded, earning a snicker from Alice.

“I’m not kooky!” Lilia scowled at you, only to receive an angelic smile in return.

You hummed to yourself as you walked around the clearing while the adults and Teen argued.

At the mention of an incomplete coven, you tugged at Agatha’s sleeve, asking softly, “Mrs. Hart wasn’t a witch, so if this is the Witch’s Road, can’t you call for a green witch?”

“Yes, thank you, little one!” Teen said, pointing at you. “How does a six year old have more brains than you all combined?”

“People have told me I’m something called ‘insightful’,” you shrugged.

“More like irritating,” Lilia scowled, looking at you.

“She isn’t the one bickering like a bunch of old ladies, is she?” Agatha shrugged. “Now come on, we have a spell to cast. Vamonos,”

You skipped after her, excitedly, helping her map out the person shape on the ground with your stick.

“Am I helping nice, mama?” You asked her, grinning proudly.

She nodded, fixing the outline, kneeling at the border of it. “Oh absolutely, sweet girl. The most helpful out of all these idiots,”

You smiled angelically, making her mutter, “You sure as hell didn’t get that smile from me, that’s for sure,”

As the witches gathered to start their spell, you stood with them—young magic was the most effective, honestly.

“May she be strong and wise, and the best at her craft,” said Lilia, placing down a crystal.

“May she be smart and not annoying,” said Agatha, placing another thing down, adding, “And also, not super political,”

“May she be pleasant looking,” said Jen, wrinkling her nose.

“Can she bring some Advil?” Alice sighed, placing her crystal down.

“Can she annoy the kooky lady?” You asked as Agatha tapped your shoulder to put your offering down. “May she be…fun,”

“I’m not kooky!” Lilia snapped at you.

“Are too!” You giggled, sticking your tongue out at her.

“Y/n, for the love of god just behave,” Agatha sighed. “I can’t deal with this right now,”

“Now what?” Teen interjected.

“Now we wait,” said Lilia. “True witchcraft takes time. The spell must marinate, gestate—“

She was interrupted by a hand sticking out of the mud behind you all, causing a scream to erupt from everyone.

Agatha shoved you back, arms out protectively as you giggled excitedly at the sight.

“Agatha, what did you do?!” Jen exclaimed.

“What do you mean, what did I do? This was very clearly a group effort!” She protested.

“It’s so silly!” You squealed, laughing at the cracking noises the witch’s bones made as she emerged from the ground.

“Your kid is a psycho like you!” Jen said, judging you as you laughed like this was a particularly funny episode of Bluey.

“She’s got character!” Agatha retorted sharply.

“Oh, my God, did we turn Mrs. Hart into a zombie?” Teen exclaimed.

“What spell did we cast?” Alice cried out.

Panicked and looking into Teen’s spell book. “Why is the print so small?” She wailed.

The witch righted herself, and you peeked from behind Agatha, intrigued and suddenly elated to see who it was.

Mami.

“MAMI!” You squealed, about to run to Rio, happy beyond belief.

“Heard you guys were having a party?” Rio gasped. She looked over at you, winking, “Hola nena,”

“How did you…” Agatha breathed, horrified, keeping you back despite your indignant squirming.

“I was in the neighborhood,” she gasped, opening her palm to reveal a flower. “Surprise. My lady,”

Agatha snatched the flower, screamed, and tried to attack her, but everyone held her back, Jen and Alice keeping her in check.

“We just summoned her!”

“We need her,”

As Agatha stormed off, Teen followed. You didn’t care about her little temper tantrum. It wasn’t the first you’d seen her have.

You were more concerned about Rio.

She was your Mami, the one who would play pranks on Agatha with you, the one who could calm you down in even the worst meltdowns, the one who accompanied you to the park every time the bullying got bad. Your Mami.

You hugged her tightly. She smelt the same, she felt the same. She was soft, she was the comforting kind of cold. She smelt like earth and old books and cinnamon, a scent so familiar that it made you bury your face into her robe to simply take in her scent.

“Nena,” she laughed. “You got so big,”

“I’m six, mami!” You gave her a broad grin, looking up at her.

“I guess we know now where the psycho comes from,” Jen muttered.

“Hey, what’s up, I’m Rio,” she said, nodding at them, still holding you close.

The three gave her a quiet, somewhat terrified and awkward greeting, before she gave them a cheeky grin and went after Agatha.

“So what do you think, can we trust her?” Alice asked.

“Agatha hates her, I’d say that goes in the ‘pro’ column,” Lilia shrugged.

“I mean…the kid thinks she’s legit,” Alice noted.

“The kid’s as psycho as she is,” Lilia scoffed. “Like calls to like and all that,”

“You’re just salty cause she calls you kooky,” Alice grinned.

“I’m not!”

Meanwhile, you walked with Rio, playing with her fingers gently as you talked her ears off.

The conversation eventually took a serious turn as you both paused and waited for the others.

“Mami,” you said, kicking a stone as you walked with her. “Mami, why did you leave me and go? Did I do something? Did mama? Did Nicky?”

Rio sighed. She knew this question was inevitable. She couldn’t avoid it, she knew that.

She stopped and knelt to your height, holding your arms in a gentle grip, making the others pause in their tracks.

Her voice was so soft, so gentle. “Mira, mi amor,” she said softly. “Sometimes…things happen which can’t be fixed unless one person removes themselves from the equation. It was not yours or Nicky’s fault, alright?”

She sensed your apprehension. An apprehension that broke her heart because she didn’t want to leave. She had to. She had no choice.

“Is it a grown up thing?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

“It is, nena,” she nodded. “But you’re still a little girl, you’re small. You won’t understand even if I explained it simply. I want you, my smart, sweet girl, to know that mami going away was not your fault,”

She thought before adding, “I am sorry for leaving, though. Mi vida, lo siento,”

It made you feel better, indeed. “It’s okay, Mami,” you smiled. “I’m happy you’re with me now,”

She grinned and scooped you up, putting you in her shoulders deftly, making you squeal with happiness. There she was, fun Mami. Your Mami.

“Come on now, let’s make some trouble,” she grinned up at you, winking. “Mami’s not going anywhere anytime soon,”

“What if I get hurt?” You asked quietly.

“Then mami’s always here to protect you,” she grinned, squeezing your hand gently.

You nodded, trusting her words.

The Road was long and it was hard.

But maybe things wouldn’t be too bad.

Mami and Mama protected you. Always.

hi hi my bao buns! i hope you enjoyed it! it was quite long, i must say, haha. do request more and i’m working on the rest currently!

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (13 - Mind If I...?)

Chapter Summary: You weren't the type of person to make easy assumptions, but you swore Wanda had been following you around ever since the mission in Turkey.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 4k+ | Chapter Tags: Age of Ultron!Wanda, Enemies to Lovers (sort of)

A/N: I've been soooo busy lately, but as promised, here's a new chapter... // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You weren't the type of person to make easy assumptions, but you swore Wanda had been following you around ever since the mission in Turkey.

At first, it was subtle—a coincidence here and there. The mission in Turkey had thawed the ice between you, shifting from open hostility (mostly from your end) to a cautious civility. Wanda had saved your life, and you'd extended a fragile olive branch in return. But becoming friendly with someone had never come naturally to you.

In the weeks that followed, you began to notice her presence more acutely. At first, you chalked it up to coincidence. After all, the Avengers Compound wasn't endless. It started with her appearing in the training room at the same time you usually had it to yourself. You thought the schedules you had set for yourselves would stay in place—Wanda working out in the evenings and you having the facility all to yourself at dawn. Even if it weren't Wanda encroaching on your space, you didn't appreciate company. 

“Mind if I’d join?” she’d said, her thick Sokovian accent still clinging to every word. You couldn’t very well turn her away without seeming petty, so you'd just nod and stick to your routine, hyper-aware of her breathing a few feet off. 

Then she'd start frequenting the common areas—lounges, kitchens, even that quiet nook in the library where you liked to lose yourself in a book. Always with a plausible reason, of course.

“Just grabbing a snack,” she’d say, foraging through the fridge as you nursed your coffee. Or “Looking for a new book. Do you have any recommendations?” her fingers trailing the spines on the shelf next to you. You’d nod mechanically, then busy yourself or wait a quarter hour before glancing at your watch and feigning a sudden memory of somewhere you needed to be.

One afternoon, as you were sifting through mission reports in the conference room, she walked in with a stack of files. “Steve asked me to go over these,” she explained, placing them on the table. “Do you mind if I work here?”

You glanced up briefly. “Plenty of room,” you answered, then turned back to your report. But your focus was shot. The shuffle of papers, the faint trace of her perfume—it was all too distracting. After a few strained minutes, you shut the folder.

“Something wrong?” she asked, picking up on your frustration.

“Just distracted,” you muttered, standing. “I’ll finish this later.”

Her face fell slightly. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It's fine,” you said curtly, already heading for the door.

That evening, you were in the gym again, pounding away at the heavy bag. As you replayed the day, you questioned whether you were being unreasonable towards her. Maybe it was all in your head.

“Mind if I join?” Her voice again. “I’m working on my form, maybe you could give me some tips?”

You turned to see Wanda at the doorway, gym bag in tow, looking hopeful. And pretty. Even though heavy eye makeup wasn't usually your style, you couldn't ignore that she was attractive, especially now that she was around so often.

Not that it mattered. Wanda wasn't your type, after all.

“Actually, I was just finishing up,” you said, reaching for your towel.

“Oh. Another time, then?”

“Sure,” you replied noncommittally, avoiding her eyes as you passed by.

Leaving the gym, you felt somewhat guilty for walking out like that. Was Wanda just trying to be friendly, or was there something more behind her constant nearness? Trust didn't come easily to you, and her persistent presence was suffocating you a little.

The next morning, you decided to test a theory. You altered your usual routine, heading to the training facilities an hour earlier than normal. To your surprise—and mild irritation—Wanda was already there, running through combat drills.

“Early start today?” you remarked coolly.

She glanced up, a small smile playing on her lips. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d use the time.”

You nodded slowly. “Right.”

Wanda stopped throwing punches in the air, clearly sensing something. “Is everything okay?”

“Just fine,” you said.

Her eyebrows drew together. “If I've done something to upset you—”

“Look,” you cut her off, sighing heavily. “Why are you always around?”

She blinked, taken aback. “I thought we were getting along better.”

“We are. But that doesn't mean we need to be joined at the hip,” you retorted.

Wanda’s cheeks flushed and she quickly looked away to hide the embarrassment and hurt on her face. “I didn’t realize I was that unwelcome.”

“You’re not,” you said, toweling off your sweaty hair. “I just need some space, okay?”

“Understood,” she said softly, gathering her things. “I'll leave you to it.”

Wanda was gone before you could take back all of it. You hadn’t meant to drive her from the training room. You just... you just wanted things to revert to how they were before—before she came in and upended your world—no matter how small your world may have been.

Over the next few days, Wanda gave you exactly what you asked.

—

Vision chose to knock on your door instead of walking through a wall to talk to you this time. 

You had been engrossed in a technical report for the past hour when you glanced at the clock—it was just past nine in the evening. Visitors were uncommon at this late hour, and you were hardly in the mood for company. Sighing, you set aside the tablet and stood, crossing the room to open the door.

“Yes, Vision?”

“Good evening,” he replied with a polite nod. “I hope I'm not intruding.”

“You were, but…” You stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. “Come in.”

He entered with that effortless grace characteristic of him, his eyes briefly scanning your sparsely decorated room: a king-sized mattress at the center, a small wardrobe, and a sound box at the foot of the bed. You noticed he seemed more contemplative than usual.

“Is there something you need?” you asked, leaning against the door jamb.

He clasped his hands behind his back. “I wished to seek your advice on a personal matter.”

“My advice? On what exactly?”

“Wanda,” he said simply.

Why did everything seem to be about Maximoff lately?

You folded your arms. “What about her?”

Vision hesitated, like he was carefully picking through his words. “I've noticed a... growing complexity in my interactions with her. Emotions that don’t compute.”

“Are you saying you have feelings for her?” you asked bluntly.

“In a way, yes,” he replied, almost clinical, like he was reciting lines from his programming. It was harsh, maybe, to still see him as just an AI, but you couldn’t shake it entirely. “I find myself wanting to understand her better, to be closer to her. But I'm uncertain how to proceed.”

You let out a short laugh. “And you think I'm the right person to help you with that?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Well, you and Wanda are friends. I thought you might offer some insight.”

You shook your head. “We're not friends, Vision. We just work together. Like you and I aren't friends—we're colleagues.”

He seemed to process this for a moment. “Ah, I see. My understanding was that you shared a closer relationship.”

“What gave you that idea?” you asked, unable to hide the slight edge in your voice.

“Because Wanda talks about you more than she does about anyone else,” he replied matter-of-factly.

That stopped you. “She does?”

“Yes,” he replied, as if it was obvious and you were too dense to have missed it. “It seemed logical to assume you two were friends.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Well, maybe we're... getting there. But that doesn't make me an expert on how you should approach her.”

“Perhaps not,” he conceded. “But any guidance you could offer would be appreciated.”

You considered his request. Despite your reservations, you could tell that he sincerely wanted to have a real connection with Wanda. If Wanda was looking for a friend, Vision might just be what she needed. 

“Alright,” you relented. “First off, why are you interested in Wanda?”

He took a moment. “She has a depth I find… compelling. She’s new to the team, just like me. I think that shared ground could be a natural starting point for a bond.”

You weren't convinced by his answer. It struck you as a cop-out. You suspected he might have deliberately shielded his true motives behind a logical and boring reasoning.

“Is that all?”

Vision appeared regretful—an emotion you hadn't thought he could display. Seeing it for the first time, it gave you a feeling that whatever he felt for Wanda—it was as real as the human side of him.

“I believe she's... lonely,” he murmured.

The word drops between you like a stone, stirring ripples you'd rather ignore. 

“Lonely?” you repeated.

“Yes,” Vision nodded. “Given the recent loss of her brother and being in a new country after her home was destroyed, it's understandable.”

There was no denying that the life of an Avenger wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, despite how the media painted it. Captain America and Iron Man costumes flooded stores, kids wore them for Halloween, and posters of the team adorned countless bedroom walls. Occasionally, you'd be stopped on the street for a photo or autograph. To them, you're living the dream.

But the reality was far different. It was more isolating than people realized. The relentless pressure, the heavy burden of responsibilities, the perpetual cycle of threats—it all took its toll. You suspected everyone on the team experienced this to some extent, but there was always another mission, another catastrophe, leaving scant time to confront personal demons.

Thinking about Wanda, you realized Vision had a point. She'd lost so much in such a short time. Her brother's death was still fresh, her homeland in ruins, and now she was in a new country with people who hadn't fully accepted her. If anyone was the loneliest among you, it was probably her.

“Maybe you're right,” you said, looking down at your feet. “She's been through a lot.”

Feeling uneasy about the direction the conversation had taken, you steered it back to Vision's original reason for showing up at your bedroom door at this late hour.

“So, what's the problem with getting to know Wanda?” you asked.

Vision cocked his head. “Wanda doesn't take well to unasked-for advice. When I try to offer solutions or comfort from what I've researched, she pulls away.”

“Research?” you repeated with a grimace. “Vision, people prefer advice that comes from personal experience.”

“I’ve only been recently “born” into the world, Y/N. I don’t exactly have many human experiences to share,” he said.

“Fair enough.”

Vision sighed. “I'm quite resourceful when it comes to finding answers. I've accessed millions of articles on how to make someone feel better—psychology journals, self-help guides, even personal blogs. Now I know why none of them worked.”

“Have you tried just... spending time with her? Without trying to fix anything?” you suggested. “Maybe invite her to do something together.”

“Such as?”

“I don't know—watch a movie, grab a coffee, something low-key.”

He shook his head. “I haven't attempted that approach.”

“Well, maybe you should. What does she like watching?”

“She has a particular fondness for sitcoms,” Vision recalled.

“There you go,” you said. “Pick a show she likes and suggest watching it together.”

He seemed to consider this. “Do you believe that would help her feel less isolated?”

“It couldn't hurt,” you shrugged. “Sometimes, all you need is someone sitting next to you.” Surprisingly, the words felt foreign on your tongue. You wondered if you even bought what you were selling, given your usual preference for solitude.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I will endeavor to apply this strategy.”

“Don't mention it,” you said, and then, off the cuff, you asked, “By the way, when I hinted that you had feelings for her and you said maybe, we’re talking just friendly feelings, right?”

Vision thought about it. He thought about it long enough that you almost retracted the question.

“She is objectively beautiful,” he finally said. “It’s something to explore once we've established a solid friendship.”

You hummed in response, neither confirming nor refuting his statement.

You walked him to the door. As he was about to leave, another thought occurred to you. 

“Vision?”

He turned back. “Yes?”

“Why did you really come to me for advice?”

He met your gaze steadily. “Because, despite what you say, I believe you understand Wanda in ways others do not. And perhaps, you understand yourself a bit less than you think.”

You opened your mouth to respond but found no words. Before you could gather your thoughts, he gave a courteous nod.

“Goodnight,” he said, and with that, he departed down the corridor. Your eyes wandered off to the door next to you, wondering if Wanda was already lost to sleep.

—

That week, the compound was uncharacteristically quiet. Missions were sparse, and the world seemed to take a collective breath. The team was left grappling with an unexpected lull, each member handling the abundance of free time in their own distinct way. Some welcomed the break—Clint retreated to his family, Natasha disappeared out of town with only a mumble of vague details, and Tony barricaded himself in his workshop. Only Steve kept busy, visiting schools and hospitals as part of an initiative to keep the Avengers grounded and engaged with the community. You, however, struggled with the sudden downtime.

One afternoon, after pacing the length of your quarters for the umpteenth time, you flopped onto your bed and stared at the ceiling. The thought of another movie marathon or video game session made you bored out of your mind. With a sigh, you pulled out your personal phone from the nightstand drawer—the one with a public SIM, not the encrypted devices issued by the team.

You unlocked the phone and opened a dating app you hadn’t touched in months. Swiping through profiles had become a sporadic pastime, and Natasha often berated you for it, reminding you that some of these girls weren’t just looking for a one-night stand.

You began absentmindedly swiping left and right, the faces blurring into one another. Matches were infrequent. Most assumed your profile was a fake, a catfish impersonating a celebrity. On the occasions when you did match with someone, they often turned out to be the imposters, hoping to scam or exploit. It was a frustrating cycle that usually led you to abandon the app altogether.

But this evening took a surprising turn. Just as you were about to give up and close the app, a new profile appeared. A certain Olivia. Stunning, huge green eyes and a great smile, with a bio that suggested a keen intellect and an interest in adventure. 

Your kind of girl.

It's a match! The notification popped, making you grin.

Surprised, you opened the chat. Olivia had already sent a message.

“Well, either you're incredibly good at Photoshop, or I've just matched with an Avenger.”

You chuckled, typing back, “Guess you'll have to meet me to find out.”

—

It had taken two nights of texting for you to convince Olivia to meet with you in person.

You stood in front of the mirror, deliberating over what to wear. Settling on a casual yet stylish outfit—a well-fitted white shirt and faded jeans—you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror. Satisfied, you grabbed your jacket and headed out.

Descending the hallway toward the exit, you passed by the communal lounge. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar figure sitting alone on one of the couches—a brunette with her back to you. Wanda. She was hunched over a book, and you recognized the cover—The Book Thief by Markus Zusak—the same book you had been reading a few weeks ago when she caught you in the library. 

Come to think of it, you hadn't seen much of her since you'd told her off in the training room. For a moment, you considered approaching her, perhaps to say a quick hello or even to apologize. 

But as you made a move, Vision came into the room, rattling off about some nearby restaurants Wanda might like. Wanda glanced up and mouthed a ‘thanks’ to him.

It sure had the makings of a date. Not keen on intruding, you quietly veered off, slipping out of the compound without announcing your exit.

—

You left the compound unusually early, intent on scouting the area to ensure it was secure and free of threats. Knowing the exits was crucial—in case things went sideways, you needed a clear escape route. Complacency wasn't an option. After all, the semblance of normalcy was just that—a façade. In truth, anyone linked to someone like you was never truly safe. 

It was also a good antidote for nerves. It had been ages since your last date, and chatting with Olivia over the past few nights had been a genuine pleasure. Her humor matched yours beat for beat, and she steered clear of the usual job interrogation. Instead, you both dove into discussions about literature and swapped stories of your favorite place you’ve been to.

It was Olivia who chose the restaurant. She knew enough not to bring you to a popular spot in the city, and picked a small establishment tucked in the quietest neighborhood of the city. 

You arrived five minutes early, only to find that Olivia had still managed to beat you there. She stood from a table near the window, greeting you with a warm smile. In person, she was even more captivating—confident, with that effortless, girl-next-door charm.

“Glad you made it,” Olivia said as you approached.

“Well, I did ask you out, so…” you joked, pulling out a chair.

You both slipped effortlessly into conversation. She did most of the talking, which suited you just fine—it meant you didn’t have to share much about yourself, something you were never quite comfortable with anyway.

“I've heard the beef stroganoff is supposed to be excellent,” Olivia said.

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, looking over the menu. “Let's share a few dishes.”

You were about to signal a server when movement by the entrance caught your eye. Turning slightly, you spotted Wanda stepping into the restaurant. She glanced around as if searching for someone, then made her way to a small table near the back.

A wave of irritation washed over you. What were the odds? First at the compound, now here.

Olivia noticed your distraction. “Is everything okay?” 

You forced a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I thought I recognized someone.”

“Friend or foe?” Olivia joked.

“Neither,” you found yourself saying more honestly than intended.

Olivia chuckled, oblivious to the depth of your remark. “Well, whoever it is, they can wait. Tonight is about us.”

“You're right,” you agreed, pushing thoughts of Wanda aside. “So, tell me more about your trip to Prague.”

Olivia immediately launched into a story about a strange encounter she had in one of its historic streets but your attention wavered. Instead, you watched Wanda as she placed her order and then casually scrolled through her phone, resembling anyone else dining alone in a restaurant, passing the time while waiting for their meal. She seemed unusually pensive, and part of you felt a semblance of empathy, but you reminded yourself that it wasn't your job to worry about her.

Still, the coincidence was too glaring to ignore. Had she followed you? Was this another one of her attempts to get close to you, or was it something more vindictive—a way to retaliate for being so standoffish with her?

“Excuse me for a moment,” you told Olivia, rising from your seat.

“Sure,” Olivia replied, looking mildly puzzled.

Weaving through the tables, you approached Wanda's. She looked up, her face registering surprise as you stood there in front of her.

“Y/N—”

“What are you doing here?” you murmured, keeping your voice low.

She blinked, taken aback. “Having dinner.”

“Here? Tonight?”

She set her jaw at your tone. “Is there a problem?”

“It seems like you're following me,” you stated, the accusation slipping out despite your intentions. You weren’t entirely sure why you confronted her; it wasn’t to drive her out of the restaurant. It was just that not knowing her intentions was getting under your skin.

“I'm not. This is the only place around that serves Sokovian food. I come here when I miss home,” she said.

“You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” Wanda demanded, standing up as well.

“I saw you with Vision at the lounge earlier tonight. He mentioned he'd found a few new spots for both of you to try,” you revealed, smirking. You wagered Wanda didn’t know you were there when she was busy planning evenings with her boyfriend—or so you assumed.

“Well, if you'd eavesdropped longer, you'd have heard me tell Vision I'd just go to my usual restaurant,” Wanda retorted calmly.

“Really?” You scoffed. “Then why are you here alone, at the same restaurant where I'm on a date?”

“You’re on a date?” Wanda’s eyes darted past you, landing briefly on Olivia, who threw a curious glance back. Her gaze took in Olivia’s features—a pair of green eyes, the shade more hazel than her own. A fleeting expression crossed her face before she turned back to you.

She sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly. “Vision doesn't eat food. Why would he come with me?”

“Because he's your... he's…” You stumbled over your words, realizing you weren't quite sure what to label their relationship. The assumption that Vision was her boyfriend felt suddenly unfounded.

“Vision’s my friend,” Wanda said. “He was making suggestions because he knows I miss home.”

Before you could respond, she flagged down the waiter. 

“Excuse me, has the chicken paprikash been started yet?”

The waiter checked his notepad. “It's still queued, ma'am.”

“Please cancel it,” she said, much to your surprise.

“Certainly,” the waiter said, and hurried off.

“Wait, where are you going?” you asked as she began gathering her things.

“I'm getting dinner somewhere else. Happy now?”

“Wanda, that’s not what I—”

She breezed past you but stopped a few paces away, turning to face you. “Not everything is about you,” she said softly, then exited the restaurant without another word.

You stood there for a while, heart beating fast, hands trembling slightly.

When you got back to your table, Olivia looked up, her brows knitted together in concern. It was hard to tell if she was worried about the scene with you and Wanda or if she thought you might bail on her.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

You managed a weak smile. “Yeah, just a little misunderstanding.”

Olivia studied you for a moment. “Do you need to go?”

“No, no,” you assured, though your mind was elsewhere. “I'm here.”

—

It was around an hour before Wanda heard a soft knock on her door. She was sitting by the window, absentmindedly strumming her guitar, playing an old Sokovian folk song from memory—the same tune her mother used to sing while doing housework. She couldn’t remember the lyrics to the song, but she could recall how it made her feel. It never quite brought her to tears, but the melody stirred a deep sense of nostalgia. She remembered being happy and content sharing a cramped apartment with her family. Wanda's voice trembled as she tried to hum along. For all she knew, the song might have been about mundane chores like dusting or laundry, and she might never find out. 

The knock didn't come again, so she continued playing. When she finished her song moments later, she set the guitar aside and walked to the door, wondering if she had imagined the sound. Opening it, she found the corridor dim and deserted. She peered up and down the hallway but saw no one.

“Hello?” she called out quietly, but there was no response. Just as she was about to retreat back into her room, she noticed a small package resting at her feet.

Picking it up, she felt the warmth seeping through the container. Attached to it was a folded note.

Thought you might still want that chicken paprikash. I'm sorry. —Y/N

Wanda stared at your hastily written note, allowing a small smile to creep onto her lips. Her stomach growled softly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten much earlier. Her stomach gave a gentle rumble, a reminder that the quick American cheeseburger she'd grabbed from a food truck, after leaving the restaurant earlier in a huff, hadn't really filled her. Nothing quite hit the spot like the flavors of home.

It really did upset her when you confronted her about being at the restaurant, and it felt like a miracle that the day ended on a different note. If you were back this early, it probably meant you hadn't gone home with that girl, and Wanda couldn’t quite understand why she felt relieved by that.

Your note remained by her side as she ate the paprikash to her heart’s content. Maybe someday, Wanda would gather the courage to tell you the rest of the truth:

That she had stopped trying to read your mind, but she could still sense your presence when you were near or in the room. That earlier tonight, she felt you in the commons and her curiosity led her to follow you, only to be pleasantly surprised when you entered her favorite restaurant. That her heart sank a little when she realized you weren’t alone as she walked into the restaurant. That she couldn’t explain why she felt drawn to you, more than anyone else on the team. That Vision had become a friend, but she found herself still wanting your friendship too.

Maybe one day she’d confess all of this to you. 

Or maybe she wouldn’t.

[hrrtshape]

things to do with your s/o in honour of valentine’s day (or: things to script if your s/o is currently trapped in the fabric of space-time like a 1940s soldier in a locket)

kiss in every doorway you walk through. just because.

link pinkies instead of holding hands sometimes. just to keep things interesting.

make up a new anniversary. valentine’s day is amateur hour. find a random date and assign it significance. the day you first locked eyes across a crowded room? the day you both almost got hit by a taxi? make up a fake, elaborate backstory if needed. insist it’s the most important date of the year.

bite their sleeve when your hands are full. bonus points if you make eye contact while doing it.

wear something of theirs. a jacket, a sweater, a ring. something that smells like them, something that makes you feel like you belong to each other.

drag them into a photo booth. don’t give them time to think, just pull them in. later, hide a copy of it in their bag. or tape it to their mirror. or slide it into a book they’re reading. let them find it when they least expect it.

learn an entire obscure skill together. forging documents, deciphering ciphers, folding napkins into extravagant birds. something wholly unnecessary but deeply specific. nothing says ‘i love you’ like a hyperfixation you can share.

love each other like you are the last two people on earth who understand what love is. (because maybe you are.)

make them breakfast. not just toast. i mean ridiculous breakfast. pancakes with their initial spelled in syrup, eggs made exactly how they like them, fresh fruit cut into hearts if you’re feeling insane.

go to a bookstore and pick something for each other. something you think they’d love, or something that reminds you of them, or something with a title so absurd it makes you both laugh in the middle of the aisle.

write each other love letters. not texts, not dms. actual letters. fold them up, pass them under the table, seal them with lipstick like a 1950s socialite sending a telegram to her lover overseas.

slow dance in the living room. play something old, something scratchy and filled with longing. press your face into their shoulder. sway like you have all the time in the world.

light candles at dinner, even if you’re just eating pizza. especially if you’re just eating pizza.

draw on each other’s skin. little hearts on their hands. initials on their wrist. a whole mural on their arm if they’ll sit still long enough.

fall asleep on each other. on the couch, in the car, heads leaning together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

go to a museum and act like the most insufferable art critics alive. invent elaborate meanings behind paintings. whisper things like ‘this piece destroyed me’ in front of tourists.

go somewhere haunted. make up an elaborate backstory for a ghost that definitely does not exist. demand the ghost give you relationship advice.

say ‘i love you’ in new ways. in a different language. in a ridiculous accent. spelled out in alphabet soup. traced onto their back with your finger.

leave them a note somewhere stupid. in their coat pocket, under their pillow, inside the fridge next to the soy milk. something simple. something damning. ("thinking about you." "you are so loved." "i win.")

trace hearts on their arm when they’re talking. act like you’re not doing it.

buy a cheap little ring and put it on their finger like it’s a royal coronation. it could be plastic. it could be candy. what matters is the ceremony of it all.

wear their favourite colour. don’t say anything about it. just let them notice.

[naturesapphic]

Could you write a one shot for Mommy!Rhea × Little!Reader where Reader treats Rhea's tattoos like her own personal coloring book please? Thank you in advance!

Coloring In The Lines

Mommy!rhea Ripley x little!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff :)

“Hey little one. What are you doing?” Rhea asked as she sits beside you on the floor. You looked up at your mommy and gave her a big smiling. “I coloring mommy!” You said happily as you picked up your favorite coloring book and showed her what you’re working on. “That’s amazing my little koala! Such an artist.” She said in her accent that you love hearing and you giggled at the petname she gave you a while back.

“Tank chus mommy.” You tell her and your eyes trail over her tattoos and you had the sudden urge to color them. Rhea could tell by the look in your eyes and how you were eyeing her arm that you were up to something. “What is it little one? What do you want to do.” Your mommy said chuckling as she picked you up and sat you in her lap. You started tracing your fingertips on her tattooed arm and Rhea got the gist of what you wanted pretty quickly.

“Do you want to color in my tattoos babygirl?” She asked and you immediately nodded your head excitedly. Rhea chuckled at your enthusiasm and took off her shirt so she’s only in her leggings and sports bra. “What do you want to start with first my koala?” She asked and you thought about it for a moment until you grabbed her wrist and pointed to the dagger in her inner arm. She chuckled and nodded at your request and let you do whatever you wanted.

By the end of your coloring section, both of rheas arms were covered in colorful colors, while some color was on her stomach where her other tattoos were. “What an artist! I gotta show these to your aunties and uncles.” Rhea said, mentioning the judgement day members and some of rheas friends that you consider your aunts and uncles. Rhea took some pictures of her arms, her stomach, and some with you in it and sent it to the group chat with everyone in it. You clapped happily and Rhea put her phone down so she could hug you.

“Tank chus mommy fors lettings mes colors chu tattoos ins.” You thanked her and rheas face brighten at your cuteness and she squeezed you tighter. “Anything for my little princess. Big koala loves her little koala so much.” Rhea said and you squealed happily. “I wuv mommy mores!” You said flapping your arms around happily and Rhea started tickling you which made you squeal loudly. She tickled you for a few more seconds and the stopped to let you catch your breath which you were grateful for. “Wanna color some more in your coloring book doll? I’ll even color with you” She asked and you nodded happily as the two of you spent hours on the floor coloring together.

A/n: thank you @inky-da-dinky for the request! I hope you enjoyed it! I hope everyone else enjoyed it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all :) more fics coming your way!

[therainywriter]

Mistaken (Fluff/Suggestive)

Pairing: Rh’auk x Reader

Request: Hi, I’m a massive fan of your writing and I adore your yautja fics, but I have to ask if your consider writing something similar to the jealously fic. Like reader is jealous thinking one of the much larger women yautja are trying to court your mate, only to find out your mate is jealous cause it’s clear the woman is trying to court you instead.

Your mate was in a meeting with important members of the tribe, occupied inside the hut you sat outside of.

You weren’t sure what it was about, though you were curious now, hearing their low, muffled clicks. You smiled, recognizing Rh’auk among them.

The breeze was warm and humidity comfortable, you couldn’t help but lean your head on the tree you sat against, letting your eyes shut and mind rest.

You didn’t fight it when you began dozing off, Rh’auk would be a while anyway.

When he finally emerged from the hut, he found you where he left you, only now you were sleeping peacefully.

He was beyond fond of his precious little hooman, wanting nothing more than to scoop you up and nap the evening away.

Alas, there were things to be done, tasks he couldn’t brush aside, not even for you.

He crouch in front of you and brushed a clawed finger against your cheek, waking you gently with pets and small kisses.

You grumbled at first, so cruelly being pulled from your light slumber.

But once you saw him you grinned, arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled him into a tight embrace.

“You’re back,” you mumbled happily, nuzzling yourself closer.

His chest rumbled lowly, mandibles clicking together occasionally. Your warm greeting making his heart melt- as it does only for you, “Yes, I am back ank’te.”

He lifted you to your feet with ease, immediately missing your arms around him as you released your hold at his neck and stood with a small yawn.

“How was your meeting?” you questioned, interlacing your hand with his larger one as you began your walk back home.

He thought for a moment, “It went well. There is much to do in little time.”

You nodded, pressing a quick kiss to his arm, deciding not to push for details he didn’t wish to share.

You felt slightly aggravated when a female Yautja stopped you and Rh’auk in your walk. It was ridiculous how often they fawned over your mate, even with you clinging to his side.

She was strong and tall, bigger than Rh’auk, but still delicate in a way. Gold accents of jewelry rest upon her skin in a beautiful contrast, shimmering with each movement she made.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure at her powerful elegance. She was worthy, worthy of a male such as Rh’auk.

Her eyes were soft as she looked at you, but harder when your mate spoke their native tongue, demanding her attention.

Rh’auk seemed more territorial than aggressive towards her. He growled and snapped at her words, whatever she was saying, he really didn’t take lightly to it.

They seemed to be arguing, a part of you worried they’d begin fighting.

You flinched when she hissed, mandibles flaring before backing off. She gave you one last soft glance as she wandered elsewhere.

You looked up at him confused, “What was.. that about?”

He grumbled, “She wished to challenge me- to court you,” the words came out sharply, fading into indecipherable, sharp clicks.

Your eyes widened, oh.

“There is always one to threaten me for you. What am I to do?” he picked you up bridal style, continuing walking whilst he glanced down at your wide, surprised eyes.

“You are lucky I did not take you then and there for everyone to see mei’aki.” he huffed, making your body heat up at the mere idea.

“I thought she was trying to court you,” you said after a moment, fingers absentmindedly tracing the deep scars on his chest.

He shook his head, the sharp appendages at his jaw moving as he chittered, amused.

“She is not the only female who has sought you out ooman,” Rh’auk seemed so sour again at the idea of anyone stealing you from him.

You kissed his chest, feeling the way his hands tightened on your skin, “You’re the only one I’ll ever call my mate,” you said sweetly.

He couldn’t help but stop in his tracks and lean down to kiss you, your words meaning far more to him than you’d ever imagine.

He could only think to show you how much they meant to him.

[curtsycream]

Heyyyy it's me again

Okay so

Poly141 (all dating each other) where they're all like. Lounging in the living room, watching a movie or something. Reader is upstairs in the bathroom (she made an excuse to get away), looking at herself too much in the mirror. She tries to hide she's insecure, but Johnny comes upstairs to find her, and he sees her staring and grabbing her stomach. He watches for a second but when he sees her tearing up, he walks in, picks her up, and takes her to the guys downstairs. He makes her explain to them what he saw, and it turns into fluffy smut? Like the guys are over here like "?????? stfu before i put my baby in you 🙄" and it's gets a little rough, but still fluffy?

Idk it's hella self-indulgent, but no pressure if you don't wanna write it :)

Beautiful Woman

Poly!TF141 x F!Reader

Heyyyyy, how ya doing? I would never turn down a request like this. I hope you like it lovely <33

warnings: not proofread to the highest tier, Soap’s accent is thick (I apologize couldn’t help it), body insecurities, a bit of dysmorphia if you read into it, penetration (p in v), oral (f receiving), idk

Movie nights were always her favorite as she leaned her head on Soap’s shoulder. Her fingers entwined with Ghost’s as they watched Grownups. The movie selection was Gaz’s as he seemed to find the movie pure comedy gold. He felt the same about Mall Cop, something Price could partially agree with.

Laughter from Soap and Gaz filled the room along with Ghost’s random commentary. She was enjoying herself but that gut wrenching feeling was there. Where it felt as if all eyes were on her. She knew it wasn’t that way but her mind made it hard to think clearly. At first she simply wrapped her free arm around her stomach. But it wasn’t enough she knew they weren’t but in her mind they were laughing at her. It was nauseating, standing up abruptly she let a half-baked excuse leave her lips. “Need to use the bathroom,” she told them when they looked to her.

They didn’t notice anything off until she went upstairs. There was a perfectly fine bathroom downstairs but she didn’t go to it. Sharing a look they took a moment to write it off. They didn’t want to cause any alarm when she probably forgot.

The bathroom door slammed close, her eyes focused on her reflection in the mirror. Many times have they assured her that they loved the way she looked. But insecurities like that never went away at the drop of a hat. Raising her shirt she turns to the side looking at her side profile. The way her stomach looked bothered her, her finger tracing over a stretch mark.

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at herself head on. Sucking in her stomach she runs a hand over her stomach. Even as she did it she felt inferior in a way. Compared to women from their pasts she wasn’t like them. She wasn’t thin or shaped like a coke bottle, she didn’t feel like their type.

It was a silly concept to focus on the women they dated and determine the kind of women they like. She knew it was but for some reason as her eyes stare at stomach she assumed this was a joke. That she didn’t deserve them because she didn’t fit the standard of the women they didn’t stay with.

Squishing her stomach she sniffled just as the bathroom door opened. He went unnoticed until he stepped forward when seeing how her bottom lip trembled. His eyes on her hands as they squish her stomach. It was clear what was going on as he pulls her against him. His finger rests under her chin as he lifts her head to look at him.

“Whit urr ye daein'?”

His voice was a blanket of warmth over her as he spoke to her. “I—“ she began before stopping.

“Ye?”

It was evident that he wasn’t going to let this go, that was reasonable. Shaking her head she uses her hands to dry her eyes. “I don’t deserve you guys, I’m just..look at me.”

“Shut th' hell up, afore ah pat a baby in ye tae prove it..”

“I’m serious Johnny, no matter what I do I always feel so goddamn inferior to the women you’ve dated. Do you even love me or am I just a spur of the moment decision.”

Her words cut him deep leaving him with a hurt look on his face. He didn’t say anything he just looked at her, it was worrying. But before she could ask him about it he picked her up. Wide eyed she let him carry her as if she weighed nothing to him. Not a single grunt or groan left him to indicate that he was struggling.

When he put her down she landed on the couch in a seated position. All eyes were on her a feeling she hated especially now.

“Tell thaim,” he said pointing to the other three men. Their attention no longer on the movie that was now paused.

Fiddling with her fingers she shrugged looking down, “I don’t deserve you guys…you could have anybody and you pick me. I know I sound a bit childish but that’s how I feel, I don’t compare to the women you’ve dated. I don’t even feel comfortable in my skin, I feel too big.”

“Dated? past tense, there are reasons we aren’t dating those women anymore. Just like there’s a reason we’re with you,” Gaz said his tone just as serious as his expression. She wasn’t used to such a look on his face where a smile usually lived.

Opening her mouth to speak she was cut off by Price. The older man had a similar expression on his face, “you deserve more than you’ll admit. You’re perfect for us trust me if we didn’t love everything about you we wouldn’t be with you, darlin’”

“Stop selling yourself short, if I had the option of anyone I would still pick you. There’s no question about it, lovie.”

The tears that were brimming her eyes soon fell. She couldn’t hold it in anymore as she cried from their words. She was pulled into a chest realizing it was Ghost from the smell of kohl and steel. Even when they were away from work he always managed to smell that way. “How would you know, you can’t prove that?” She asked her voice muffled by his shirt.

“Ye'r perfect fur us, we kin aye prove that,” Soap let out.

A surge of desire coursed through Soap’s body as he watched Gaz’s skilled and intimate ministrations. The way Gaz’s tongue danced across her delicate folds, eliciting moans of pleasure from their girl, sent a jolt of arousal straight to Soap’s core.

He couldn't tear his eyes away as Gaz’s tongue worked its magic, exploring every inch of her pussy. The vulnerability displayed by her, the trust placed in their hands, it all fascinated him.

Swallowing hard, she gripped Price’s hand as his lips were attached to one of her breasts. His kisses were enough to melt her to the core. She kept her eyes open as she looked over at Ghost who was stroking his cock as he watched. He was anticipating his turn to show her just how important she was to them. Licking her lips she moans when Price’s fingers rub her clit. She wasn’t prepared for the assisted pleasure her mind reeling at the feeling of Price’s fingers and Gaz’s tongue.

“Ye keek sae bonny lik' this, lass,” Soap’s words cut through the thick layer of lust and need. Her eyes on him as he moves closer his lips slamming onto hers. The kiss was quick pace as if he was putting all of his love into it.

Her thighs squeezed around Gaz’s head as she panted into Soap’s mouth. Her body trembling as she felt close, a sign they all were familiar with. “Look at that wanna cum so bad, wanna make a mess on Kyle’s tongue huh, darlin’?”

All that left her was a moan into Soap’s mouth at Price’s words. His fingers were pulling at her nipples as she came. Her fingers gripping Gaz’s hair as she moaned loudly into Soap’s mouth. He didn’t relent as he seemed to swallow all of her moans.

When Gaz pulled away so did Soap allowing her to see the man lick his lips clean. A smile on his face as he sat up caressing her inner thigh, “still tasting good I see.”

His words left her a mess almost as much as Ghost was about to leave her. She knew the moment Gaz stepped away what was going to happen. Her eyes found Ghost as he made his way between her legs. His large hands gripping her thighs parting her legs a bit more. The sound of kissing faint as Soap tasted her off of Gaz’s lips.

“You’re so pretty, lovie,” Ghost’s words distracted her from him entering her. A moan leaving her lips as she felt him slowly sink into her. “Always so fuckin’ tight too,” he praised.

His words and actions left her feeling fuzzy inside. Just as she thought that would be enough she felt kisses trailing down her stomach. “Love everything about you, darlin’. Look at how pretty you are taking Simon’s cock. Making him feel so good,” his words rang loud in her ears. “Tell me how pretty you are, we wanna hear you darlin’.”

She was used to their reassurance and love but it always felt different when they were intimate. It seemed to cement just how much they truly meant what they said. How they showed her body love in the most intimate of ways. “I’m very pretty,” she choked out when Price left a hickey on her thigh.

As Ghost’s speed picked up he caged her between his arms. His face dropping to the crook of her neck, his breath fanning her skin. “Gonna put a baby in you, let you carry around proof that we love you.”

Shuddering she whimpered at his words while he thrusted ruthlessly into her. It wasn’t long until she was clamping around his cock. Her eyes fluttering shut when she came around him. In return he gasps sharply as her pussy milks him for all that he has.

It served as a reminder even after they cleaned up. She stood in front of the mirror again after the shared shower between them. Behind her stood Price whose hands were on her bare hips. “Look at you, the prettiest woman there is.” He would whisper in her ear as he left kisses along her shoulder. “Regardless of how you feel about yourself I promise you that we aren’t thinking those same bad things you are. You look sexy and it’s okay to not be what you think you should be. We love how you look, darlin’.”

Nodding her head she tears up watching him leave kisses on her skin in the mirror. It was reassuring in ways she had never experienced before. With them she knew she would be loved, they would always make that clear to her.

Soap peeked his head into the bathroom with squinted eyes, “Ye let Si pump a baby intae ye afore ah cuid? ah wis th' yin wha said it first” he tells her.

A laugh left her lips as she listens to him, “I’m sorry,” said said to him. Shaking his head he holds his hand out, “Na sorry, wur aboot tae dae that now.”

Translations again I want to thank my friend who was able to tell me how to write Soap’s words properly. He’s a real one <33 For words like baby, first, maybe a few more I changed them because my keyboard hates the word bairn for some reason.

Whit urr ye daein'? - What are you doing?

Ye? - You?

Shut th' hell up, afore ah pat a baby in ye tae prove it. - Shut the hell up, before I put a baby in you to prove it

Tell thaim - Tell them

Ye'r perfect fur us, we kin aye prove that - You’re perfect for us, we can always prove that

Ye keek sae bonny lik' this, lass - You look so beautiful like this, girl

Ye let Si pump a baby intae ye afore ah cuid? ah wis th' yin wha said it first - You let Si pump a baby into you before I could? I was the one who said it first.

Na sorry, wur aboot tae dae that now. - No sorry, we’re about to do that now

[sorrowsofsilence]

Diagnosis • Sebastian

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!recieving, choking, doctor x patient (this idea may make you uncomfortable so pls don’t read if it does- in irl it makes me uncomfortable lol- but this is pretend and Dr. Davis is made up.)

Prompt: You had no idea your past highschool school hook-up would be your substitute doctor during your annual check-up; but let's just say you were in desperate need of a physical.

Author note: LOL I AM GOING TO HELLLLL - but also I've seen so many Dr. Davis ideas I had to create one myself; so thank you to especially (@valiantroeagleangel) whose work inspired me. You are wonderful. And shout out to some sexy phrases by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 - I’m weak

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

+

You picked at your fingernails nervously as you sat in the waiting room, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

Something about Doctors’ offices always made you nervous, especially when it involved a doctor that wasn’t your own. You were getting a routine check-up and your first pap smear, scheduled with your regular doctor, but she had a last-minute family emergency. This meant you were going to be inspected by someone else, and that thought made you slightly uneasy.

You played with the mask that covered your nose, pinching at the metal band that rested on the bridge before tugging at the string.

The old woman next to you watched your anxious wading with curious eyes, and you simply shifted in your seat, avoiding her gaze.

Your name was finally called and you followed the nurse, allowing her to check your height, and then leading you into a room located at the end of the hall.

She sat you down, your legs crunching beneath the paper as she placed the blood pressure bump along your arm, squeezing until it tightened and let go.

“Your blood pressure seems to be a little high?” She said, eyebrows furrowing.

You rubbed your hands nervously between your thighs, “I’m just a little anxious.”

Her eyes smiled, indicating a soft grin beneath the mask she wore, “You’ll be just fine. Dr. Davis is a fantastic doctor.”

His name rang off her tongue, piquing your interest. Davis. You knew someone with that last name in high school.

“You can take your mask off in here by the way. Just set it on the side.” She nodded before leaving and you sat there for a few more moments, nervously shifting in your seat.

After a few minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door and you sat up straight, anticipating the man who would be taking care of you today.

The door opened and a man with soft chestnut hair that fell slightly in front of his face walked in, thin-framed glasses sat promptly on top of his nose, covered by a black mask. He hadn’t looked up from the clipboard that was in his hands as he kicked the door closed with his foot gently, tattooed fingers holding up the top page as his eyes skimmed rapidly over the words.

“How’s it going? I’m Dr. Davis.” His voice fell from his lips in a firm but gentle tone and your eyes widened in surprise as you remembered the faint lisp at the end of his ‘s’, and the twang in his accent.

“Hi,” you whispered as you absorbed his image, eyes skimming over his white coat that draped down his long body. The light-blue button-up sat tightly against his neck. You swallowed gently at the ink that crawled just above the collar, sinched between a black tie traced with binary code as the pattern.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked with a curious tone, gaze immediately leaving the page as his orbs met your own, and your heart raced as his ochre eyes bore into yours.

His professionalism dropped slightly as his eyes skimmed over your face in recognition, and your lips parted slightly. He stood still, frozen in remembrance before he coughed, setting the clipboard on the counter and taking a seat next to his computer.

Noah Sebastian Davis is your doctor.

He immediately avoided your gaze as your face began to warm, and you crossed your legs, feeling vulnerable under his authority as he sat there, distracting himself with his computer.

Your high school hookup is your doctor.

“Well,” He began typing, a soft waver barely evident in his voice, “It’s been a long time.”

“Thirteen years,” You licked your lips quickly, smiling shyly as you stared at your legs, glancing up every so often to steal a look at your doctor. You felt even more nervous than before as the man who sat in front of you eventually turned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he watched you intensely.

“Look, let’s just keep this professional. If you’re more comfortable with someone else I can get another doctor in here.” He said monotonously, leaning over his lap as his elbows rested on his knees.

You mustered a small smile as your chest hammered, eyes grazing across the tattoos embedded into his fingers Memories of the way they used to dance along your skin left your stomach swirling.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind…” Your thoughts trailed off as you looked at the ground, “if you don’t mind?”

Dr. Davis maintained strict eye contact, his voice proper and fixed, “It’s my job to remain professional and competent. I strive for nothing but efficiency, and I’ll have you in and out Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Miss,” You corrected quietly, picking at your nails again.

Something flashed across his eyes at the realization, and your ears flushed as you adjusted yourself on the examination table.

He turned on the chair again, fingers tapping on the keyboard.

“Let’s go through some medical history to clarify things under your files. It seems you usually have Dr. Thomas, am I correct?”

You hummed in confirmation, nodding along.

“Any health concerns to bring up in your visit today?”

You shook your head, “Just a routine check-up and a pap smear.”

Dr. Davis nodded along, shifting in his seat at the mention of a pap, his hand reaching to pull against his collar as if loosening the tension that was building within the room.

“Any issues regarding mental health?”

You shook your head.

“Eating and drinking well?”

You nodded.

“Any allergies?”

You shook your head.

“Sexually active?”

You noticed his voice hither slightly, as he glanced over at you briefly, before fixating his eyes on the computer again.

“Not like, regularly.”

He shifted in his seat, nodding.

“Multiple partners?”

“Uhm,” you began to stutter nervously at his questions, “A few. Not frequently changing.”

It was a routine check-up, you reminded yourself. Doctors asked these questions.

You shrugged, eyes skimming up towards him again as his eyes bore into you once again, your abdomen clenching as his gaze darkened.

“How many since me?”

You coughed, caught off guard as you stared at him in disbelief, “P-pardon?”

He didn’t repeat the question, but instead continued typing, clicking away at your file.

“Three,” You then said, watching him carefully and he hummed in response.

“Anything else you think I should know?” He asked, returning to his cool, professional composure.

You shook your head again, watching as his chest heaved slowly as he stood up. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, and you watched as he placed the ends in his ears before standing in front of you, maintaining a distance.

“Let me check your lungs… can you take your jacket off?” He asked, watching you carefully as you peeled off the layer, placing it to the side.

Dr. Davis then sat next to you on the examination table and your heart began to pick up pace at the proximity of his body, his cologne melting into your senses.

His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned behind you to place the end of the stethoscope on top of your back.

He asked you to take in a deep breath, and you inhaled swiftly, attempting to exhale in a slow, controlled pattern; but the breath that left your lungs was shaky and uneven.

“Sorry,” you whispered, and he ran the stethoscope across your back again, this time placing it underneath your shirt, the cold metal causing a shiver to run down your body.

“Three more,” He asked gently and you obliged, each breath faltering again as your heart raced.

There was no doubt he could hear the thump of your heart pick up as his warm fingers gently skimmed your skin as he controlled the stethoscope; knowing how nervous his proximity made you.

He pulled away, staring at your flushed face before leaning behind you to grab an ear otoscope.

“Just going to check your ears,” he said as his warm hands pulled along your ear, his warm breath creating goosebumps along the skin in your neck as the hairs stood up.

Your stomach butterflied as he then grabbed a wooden popsicle stick, standing in front of you now, placed between your legs.

“open,” he commanded and you obliged, sticking out your tongue and making an ‘ah’ sound.

Dr. Davis held underneath your chin to look up at him as he placed the wood on top of your tongue, pressing down slightly. Your abdomen clenched as a rush of emotions ran through your body, making eye contact with the tattooed doctor as he stared back, not even looking at the back of your throat as your mouth was agape, open widely for him.

You wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull against the fabric of his mask, greedily wanting to expose his lips to see the rest of his face and smile, to see how handsome he had gotten with age.

Your chest heaved as his fingers slid from underneath your chin, trailing down your throat with firm but gentle fingertips, the tension between you building as seconds passed by. He pulled back his hand, along with the popsicle stick, and your mouth closed slowly as he took a step back.

As he turned from you, the way he slid his hand into his pocket to readjust himself didn’t go unnoticed, before he faced you again, nodding curtly.

“I’ll let you get undressed from the waist down. You can place this blanket over yourself, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He averted his gaze as he opened the door, closing it gently behind him.

You let out a breath as your mind began to race. The way your mind kept tracing back to years of messing around with him in high school sent your stomach into a lustful spiral, the warmth of his inked fingers relighting years of memories he engraved into your skin.

Noah had given you years of orgasms, some of the best you ever had. None of your other lovers had compared to him, and your body knew this, sparking complete excitement at his presence once again.

You shifted on your feet embarrassed at this, peeling off your jeans as you folded them neatly on the chair. You slid off your black panties, placing them on top of your pants before lying down on the bed, the cool air causing you to shiver.

Or perhaps, it was the fact Noah was going to be extremely close to your intimate space after so many years of deprivation.

You two hooked up on and off for years during adolescence, never forming a relationship beyond that; even though you always wanted to.

You always had feelings for Noah, but you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you senselessly, and then part ways. No strings attached.

After high school graduation, you two parted, never speaking to each other again. You had always wondered what he had gone off and set to do, and being a doctor was honestly the last thing you’d think he’d do. Noah had always been extremely smart, but it still came as a complete shock when he was the one who walked through that wooden door just fifteen minutes prior.

You covered yourself with the thin blanket and a moment later Dr. Davis came through the door again, glancing at your exposed legs before turning to grab a pair of gloves from the counter.

You watched him intensely as he pulled the latex over his fingers, almost drooling at the thought of them running along your folds. You shook away the thought, knowing that you would be completely dripping by the time he would be sitting between your legs, examining you.

The last thing you wanted was for him to know the effect he still had on you, even after all these years.

He made eye contact with you again, tugging at the tie around his neck once again as he took the chair, rolling it to the edge of your feet. Before sitting he pulled out the stirrups.

“You can rest your heels on here,” He pointed to the plastic, and you noticed how his ears began to flush red, his chest rising and falling quickly as he glanced into your eyes once again.

When he looked away you glanced down at his black slacks, swallowing harshly at the bold outline of his erection that was extremely evident, through his tight pants.

You swallowed as you slowly lifted your legs, exposing yourself to the man who now sat at the end of the bed, the thin blanket sliding down your thighs gently, leaving your body on display for Dr. Davis.

“Fuck.”

The word was barely audible. He had whispered it so quietly through gritted teeth, but you still managed to hear the four-letter word, and it sent another rush of warm lust through your body.

“I-I’m just going to examine you before inserting the speculum.” Dr. Davis’ professional tone faltered briefly, and you wanted to look down at him so badly.

You knew that he was aroused, but you had no idea how badly Noah wanted to tear into your pussy right then and there.

For years Noah wondered what happened to you. After years of dedication to med school, he didn’t have much time to form relationships, and he usually had a quick fuck here and there to tie over his cravings. He reminisced frequently about how good you felt wrapped around his cock, all of his past flings never making him feel quite how you did.

This morning when he agreed to substitute at the clinic he had no idea what to expect. You were the last thing he thought would happen, and the second he read your name on that piece of paper as he entered your room he felt his mind begin to spiral.

How was he supposed to remain professional around you?

His biggest regret was never pursuing anything further with you years ago, worried that if feelings got involved he would lose the best thing he ever had. In turn, he fucked himself over in the end, because he had lost you either way; but now, you were right here in front of him, naked and on display.

The second he saw you sitting on the exam table he felt an immediate rush to his pants, his mind racing as he began to sweat, the room suddenly feeling stuffy and tight. He couldn’t help but watch your lips as they parted when you talked, memories of them wrapped around himself as your tongue slid up and down his length leaving him unable to concentrate as he attempted to read your file.

He watched as you shifted nervously in front of him when he checked your lungs, heart racing rapidly under his touch. He wanted to rip your thighs apart, slipping his fingers into you, wanting to leave you begging.

Noah wanted to pull his name from your lips; leaving you worshiping him, needing him.

He kept reminding himself that he was a professional now and that it was unacceptable to push the boundary of client-patient professionalism. There was a code of conduct and ethics he was required to follow; but he wanted to forget years of practice, just to get a taste of you.

You lay there, trying to keep your heavy breathing quiet; but you immediately gasped as one of his covered fingers spread you open, barely touching your skin, afraid to go further.

You closed your mouth tightly, biting the inside of your cheek as you scolded yourself.

Don’t fucking moan, don’t fucking moan. He barely touched you.

“I’m going to insert the speculum now,” He said quietly, and you heard him whisper another sentence to himself, “God, you don’t even need lube…”

You knew that he knew how turned on you were by just his presence alone, and you closed your eyes as Dr. Davis inserted the plastic into your body, the feeling of fullness causing you to chew on your bottom lip.

Dr. Davis clicked the hinges as the speculum opened you up, and you covered your mouth with your hand, something Noah had noticed.

“Are you in pain?” He asked gently, and you shook your head.

“N-no, I-I’m okay.”

He hummed again, and it was quiet for a moment.

There was a lack of movement for a second until you felt a gloved finger brush across your clit slowly, and you furrowed your brows in anticipation.

Fuck, that had to be an accident, right?

You tried to think rationally about the situation, but your thoughts trailed to dirty places, silently pleading that Dr. Davis would press against your intimacy again.

Noah had listened for your reaction as he sat before your legs that held you splayed open for him, his mind battling. He swallowed hungrily.

You felt his fingers brush against you again and your thighs jolted to his touch, before you felt the pad of his finger press firmly against you, tracing small circles as he tried drawing a moan from your lips.

Your mouth fell open in satisfaction as your body clenched, Dr. Davis’ fingers rubbing faster and faster.

You couldn’t help it as a gentle whimper crawled from your chest, and with furrowed brows, you bucked your hips into his touch; giving him the permission he desperately wanted.

You felt the speculum being removed, and seconds later a wet swipe trailed up along your folds.

“Oh my god,” You whispered and Dr. Davis hummed, his lips latching onto your sweet spot before two gloved fingers slid into you, curling upwards.

You began to moan again, pulling the blanket away to see the brunette devouring your body. He looked up at you with lustful eyes, his mask pulled underneath his chin.

You ogled upon seeing his entire face, brows furrowed with desire as he remained stone cold.

“If you moan loudly one more time I’ll stop.” He said as he began licking your body once again, eyes fixated on your own.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He said, pulling his mouth away as he continued to pump his fingers in and out rapidly, taking his thin glasses off and placing them on the table.

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, burying himself between your legs again in famish, devouring you feverishly with complete craving.

Your legs began to shake from his praise and you covered your mouth with your hands as your hips pushed into Dr. Davis’ touch, completely engulfed with euphoria.

You didn’t know that he was palming himself through his slacks as he ate you out, desperate for friction, desperate for you to be the one touching him instead.

“Cum.” He demanded, and in a second his tongue swiped along your folds you felt the knot that he built release, elation washing through you as you choked back a desiring cry.

Your free hand gripped Dr. Davis’ hair as you pulled him closer, rubbing yourself along his face as he ate you until it became too much, pushing him away.

He stood up, mouth agape and wet from your release as you watched him with yearning, both your chests heaving.

He hastily began pulling off his white coat, throwing it to the floor as you watched him loosen his tie. Sitting up you beckoned him over and his fingers gripped your throat, pulling you towards him as his forehead rested against your own.

You looked into each other’s eyes as unspoken words danced between you, both of you needing each other but too afraid to speak.

He held you firmly for a moment before pulling your lips to his own, kissing you completely with need and hunger, forcing you to taste yourself

You groaned quietly into his lips as your tongues ran along each other, your fingers shaky as you began unbuttoning his blue dress shirt.

His fingers tightened around your neck as your hands trailed to the hem of his black pants, tugging at his waistband as you pulled apart his belt, sliding the zipper down slowly.

He moaned softly as your fingers slid along his abdomen, threatening to dip in to grab where he needed you.

“You’re in no position to tease princess, remember that,” He squeezed your neck again as he towered over you in authority, and you smiled.

“This is wrong.”

“So wrong.” He mumbled before kissing you in desperation again, your minds fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Dr. Davis’ hands pulled your shirt over your head as he pulled back, taking in the image of your exposed body, ready for him.

His covered fingers found their way to your core once again, slipping in and out as you pulled down his underwear, his body hard and ready to devour you.

You licked your fingers, smiling up at him as he watched with lustful eyes, before grabbing hold of his erection, pumping up and down as he thrust into your hand in eagerness. He pulled his fingers in and out of you quickly, your mouth falling open as you watched each other, pleasing one another.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Dr. Davis pleaded, and you opened your thighs farther.

“That’s it… Wider,” He whispered, before pulling his hands away from you, wrapping them around himself as he positioned his body to yours.

Dr. Davis didn’t hesitate any longer before he pushed into you, a loud whimper leaving you. His eyebrows furrowed angrily as his gloved hand covered your mouth, pushing you back into the wall.

“Be fucking quiet,” He said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he continued to thrust into you, filling your body, claiming you as his own.

He tore into your skin with his motions, the feeling of him pulling out before pushing back in deeply causing your legs to clench shut. He pushed them open with the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth.

“I said to spread them,” He scolded, fingers digging into your thigh before he slapped the top of your intimacy, earning a yelp from you as your body jolted from the contact.

He remained cold and composed, attempting to keep up his professional facade that was beginning to crumble before you. His eyes squeezed shut as he pushed your thighs back towards your chest, opening you as he fucked your body with possession.

You watched his head tilt back, exposing the tattoos on his neck as his lips fell open in complete satisfaction.

Your body felt perfectly wrapped around him, years of need ready to release into you.

Dr. Davis wanted to flip you over so you stood in front of him, one leg lifted onto the bed as he gripped your ass and pounded you; but he knew that right now, he needed to watch your face contort in pleasure for him, from him.

Your body clenched around him, “Dr. D-Davis,” You whimpered, still trying to remain quiet so as to not be heard by the rest of the clinic.

“Noah,” the brunette growled, bringing you into a kiss and you nodded, murmuring his name back to him against his lips in a plea.

He was close to his release, but he held back, waiting to pull another orgasm from you before he would bring you to your knees, ready to cum down your throat.

“You can do it, that’s a good girl.” He praised and you melted at his words, letting go as he thrust into you one more time, your body completely enveloping him as your mouth was covered by his hand once again to mask your screams. Your body shook through the orgasm Noah offered you.

He slid in and out slowly, before pulling away. His fingers were threaded through your hair as he guided you to the floor, placing you on your knees.

You took him into your mouth mercilessly, sucking and bobbing along his length before he gripped your face, pulling you closer.

You gagged along him, tears forming as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, signalling he was close.

Seconds later Noah’s release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed his orgasm, looking up at him in commitment.

“You’ve always been mine to ruin,” He said, panting as he pulled you off of him, and you sat on the ground, smiling up at him.

The two of you got dressed in silence, the hormones lingering in the air as he pulled off the gloves, grabbing his prescription notepad and a pen.

“I wasn’t able to get a good enough sample to send off to the lab,” He said, scribbling away, “I’ll need you to meet me at my office this weekend.”

Dr. Davis handed you the note and you looked at the paper, staring at the phone number and address as he nodded toward you, opening the wooden door and leaving the office.

hshshgsghshghsshgh ok i am a mess

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d  @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch

[aventurineswife]

“Both your hands in the hole of my sweater” | Part 2

Summary: While your partner was away on a work trip, you, as their beloved partner, spent the time knitting them a sweater. Upon their return, they’re met with the surprise of a handmade gift.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Robin x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Topaz x Reader, Numby Fluff, Knitting Sweater for them, Domestic Fluff, Handmade Gifts, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Soft Moments, Fluff and Comfort, Found Family Vibes, Tender Moments, Gift Giving, Wholesome Fluff.

Part 1, Part 3

Dan Heng

You spent hours knitting a dark blue sweater for Dan Heng, mirroring the serene, star-streaked nights you both spent watching on the Astral Express. When he finally returned from his trip, he was tired and stoic as always, but his eyes softened at the sight of your gift.

“It’s… for me?” he asked, voice almost a whisper. His fingers brushed the yarn as if it might dissolve under his touch. A faint smile crept onto his usually impassive face. “Thank you.” he murmured, slipping it on over his usual tunic. It fit him perfectly, cozy yet just snug enough.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, he glanced at you and said, “I’ll wear it often. It reminds me of… home.” And for once, he seemed truly at peace, holding onto a warmth beyond the fabric.

Robin

You chose a soft, lilac-colored yarn, matching the hues of Robin’s cascading hair. As she entered the room upon her return, you presented her with the delicate sweater you’d knitted, woven with a gentle star pattern around the sleeves.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” she gasped, green eyes bright with genuine joy as she ran her fingers over the intricate stitches. She slipped it on, twirling gracefully, the fabric flowing in tune with her elegance.

“It feels like a comforting hug, a piece of home I can carry wherever I go.” she whispered. She then looked at you with a teary smile, touched beyond words. “I’ll treasure it always… and sing a song of gratitude just for you.”

Argenti

You chose a deep crimson for Argenti’s sweater, with golden accents reminiscent of his armor—warm, rich colors that represented both his valor and the beauty he saw in the world. When he returned, you offered it to him, suddenly unsure if he’d appreciate something so simple.

But Argenti’s reaction was instant and profound. He took the sweater from your hands with reverence, tracing each stitch as if it were a masterpiece. His eyes shone with admiration and something deeper, something devoted. “This… you made this?” His voice was soft, his usual confidence tempered by awe.

“Such dedication,” he whispered, studying the gentle waves and patterns in the fabric. “To think, each thread was woven by your hands… It holds a beauty unmatched by jewels or stars.” He slipped it over his armor, the fabric draping him like it had been crafted by divine hands. He looked down at it, then back at you, eyes filled with a rare vulnerability.

“You’ve taken the simplest of things—yarn and time—and turned them into something… extraordinary,” he murmured, as if still in disbelief. “Your love is in every fiber, every loop.” He placed his hand over his heart. “It’s not just a gift; it’s an embodiment of beauty, pure and true. I will wear it always, a reminder that true art is made with care, and beauty lives in all that we cherish.”

Stepping close, he took your hands in his. “Thank you, my love,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “In this, I see the beauty of our bond—a beauty I am worthy of, but one I vow to honor with all that I am.”

Topaz

For Topaz, you picked a rich, ruby-red yarn with accents of gold—a color as bold as her spirit. When she returned, you handed her the sweater without fanfare, but she gasped, eyes widening in surprised delight.

“You knitted this? For me?” she exclaimed, and she held it up to her chest as if imagining how it would feel. She quickly put it on, looking down with a satisfied smile. “Perfect fit.” she grinned.

“You’re really thoughtful, you know that?” she said with a chuckle, but her eyes sparkled with genuine appreciation. She gave you a light punch on the shoulder. “Guess this means I owe you one, huh?”

!BONUS!

Numby

You'd had a feeling Numby might be a little more difficult to knit for. They were small, always moving around Topaz’s side, eager and full of energy, sniffing out anything they thought held value. Still, you thought they deserved something cozy and sweet—a little sweater that would match Topaz’s.

When they finally noticed the tiny, bright red sweater you'd carefully made, Numby froze. At first, they sniffed at it cautiously, circling it as if trying to understand why you’d given them this odd little garment. You knelt down, coaxing them closer with a gentle hand. "Here, Numby, I made this just for you."

After a moment of contemplation, they gave a small, excited hop and nudged their head against your hand, as if in understanding. Gently, you slipped the sweater over them, adjusting it so the red bowtie around their neck still peeked out, like a cheerful splash of color against the new warmth.

Numby made a little trill, hopping in a tiny circle as they took in their new attire in curiosity and delight. They looked over at Topaz as if to say; Look what I have now!

You couldn't help but laugh as they bounced around happily, shaking with joy. For a creature that usually hunted treasure, Numby seemed to consider this simple sweater a rare and precious find, something even more valuable because it was given with care.

[karlachismylife]

[redacted] || The Queen of the Clan pt.3,5

CW: brief description of animal genitalia, brief description of animal sex (basically it's boys being hyenas, greetings and fucking, nothing too explicit). Still, this is NSFW and I WILL block every ageless blog (as well as minors) interacting with it, so please, put your age in your bio/pinned post. I feel sad when I have to block people :(

No one dares to stop him as his huge shadow stalks through the darkness of the night savanna. Even alone, Ghost is a formiddable presence, forced down the ranks by cruel laws of nature, but persevering and thriving against the odds - a lioness on her hunt strays away from him, preferring not to pick up a fight that might end with her jumped by a clan - a small, doomed without a female leader, but tight clan.

It still feels like the ground, cooled off by the night, burns under his soft paws, as he flies through the tall grass and bush, whipped by the shame of being caught, a dark missile set on a clear target - as he approaches the den they use during their out in the wild missions, he whoops, warning his clan of his arrival.

When he gets no immediate response, he slows down, raising his voice - a uniquely his, haunting, rumbling at the lower notes sound cutting through the air over the ochestra of cicadas. Finally, two voices respond - Captain somewhere on patrol, leaving two fluffy muppets to welcome his Lieutenant back. A softer, melodic call coming from Kyle gets overridden with quickly approaching whooping that even in the animal form sounds heavily accented - just one Scot's tongue seemingly built differently (specifically to get on Ghost's nerves).

Johnny almost rams Ghost's side, barely braking himself like a cartoon animal, dust clouds up in the air and deep traces where his hind paws dragged along before finally stopping. He lines up against his Lieutenant, lifting a paw impatiently - his thick member proudly erect, and Ghost would never be able to answer the question if Soap is just that eager to demonstrate submission to him or he's just getting horny from the sight of the dark-furred mountain with a blong mane alone. Earning a nip meant to keep him in line, Johnny shoves his muzzle into Ghost's crotch nonetheless, deliberately ignoring that the dominant hyena didn't even move his legs to accomodate such greeting - and then suddenly pauses.

Lifts his wide head, fluttering his big round ears, whines quietly, then, when Ghost stays silent, repeats in a more demanding tone - and by the time Gaz finally jumps out of the bushes gracefully, Ghost is already being full-on harassed by Johnny, who pays no mind to the bites and paw slaps he recieves from his bigger mate and keeps sniffing at his mane, going as far as to chomp on Ghost's nape and chew on on his light-coloured fur.

If they weren't out in the middle of savanna, Simon would've already shaken his animal form off and pinned Johnny down, but instead he has to fight off his Sergeant, who uses his height to his advantage as he escapes Ghost's grip and avoids being held like a guilty pup in the terrifyingly massive jaws capable of biting through a giraffe's thigh bone.

Of course, Kyle comes to his support, distracting Ghost by a quick greeting and using that same hind leg he lifted for him to push Ghost's snout away. He smells it too: the sweetness, the tanginess, the womanhood that lingers on the dark fur, something their Lieutenant clearly wants to hog for himself, as Soap tells Gaz in short, sulky whoops, getting smacked with Ghost's long tail in the face for the slander. He ain't hogging nothing, he just doesn't want to be their chewing toy for the night, even if he brought the smell that all of them already memorized from short encounters with the soft, plump, so perfect for cuddling in a pile and laying big heads on her lap, girl...

No matter how strong Simon is, being jumped by two muscle-packed hyenas isn't an easy fight to win, and after several more minutes of wrestling he finds himself pinned down on the ground by Soap's weight, as the chonky hyena plops on top of his superior officer and nuzzles into his mane with pathetic, needy whines, already grinding into Ghost's back, humping his poor tailbone like it's just a pillow for him to satisfy the need caused by a female's scent etched into his lover's hide.

Gaz keeps himself together just about as poorly, stuffing his wide nose between Ghost's ribs and inhaling with low wheezing howls. He's not rutting into Simon directly, but he's one hot-running furnace pressed up to the big hyena's side, leaking onto his fur and licking at the scented mane and Ghost's ears - well knowing that is makes his Lieutenant softer and more pliant.

It's no wonder that by the morning Price finds them in their den in a messy, sticky pile, paws entangled and traces of seed and saliva smeared on their sides, as if they were too exhausted to clean up even as they fell asleep. But even in the thick, musky mix of his subordinates' smells, he picks on the faint, delicate, sweet note - and immediately pinpoints it as the reason two Sergeants couldn't keep their paws off Simon.

Surely, after such an action-packed night Ghost won't mind being woken up by long, wet tongue of his Captain licking him clean thoroughly.

Part 3 | Part 4

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Tagging: @elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861 @darkangel4121 @ginger-n-coco @grey-shadow6475

So yeah, I guess these [redacted] parts (I just can't come up with as much spots-related puns and names as I'd like) will be a reoccuring thing, because writing fluffy hyena boiz is fun. Hope you enjoy these just as much as the main parts! Also I am accepting requests for this au, they might even get into the main storyline, so feel free to send in ideas!

you can ask to be added to the taglist under series masterlist post

Also maybe vote here for a little drabble?