#the jealousy when she’s arm in arm with dusk

[bleachblomde]

Imogen Temult’s fixation with holding Laudna’s hand my beloved

[sunflowersteves]

another day, another dollar || b.b.

pairing || bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

summary || Is Rooster jealous that some random aviator won't stop looking at you? Definitely not.

author’s note || i'm so glad you guys enjoyed my last rooster fic!! i have so many ideas for rooster and i hope you guys enjoy this one! <3

warnings || jealousy, misogyny (not from rooster), fem!reader, some mention of violence, smut, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, a little sub!bradley, [18+ only]

“Getting pretty busy, huh?” 

You turned your head around to the unfamiliar voice. You almost raised an eyebrow—he looked smug. “Yep.” You replied, short and sweet. 

You gave him a strained smile in hopes to keep up some customer service facade. You whirled back around to continue to pull the tap and fill up more beers.

He decided to talk to you again. “Think you can handle all this by yourself?”

At the Hard Deck on a buzzing Friday night, you were the only one tending to the bar. Ever since dusk peaked at seven-thirty in the evening, you had been busy refilling beers and taking orders—then occasionally ringing the bell when someone couldn’t pay their tab. 

Penny asked you for a favor when Amelia came home from school with a really bad case of the flu. You knew she felt bad enough leaving you alone on the busiest night of the weekend, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit. You had wished Amelia a speedy recovery. 

You were doing pretty well from the rush of Navy officers, lieutenants, captains, and everywhere in between asking for ales and lagers.

It had actually been somewhat fun chatting up conversations with people. Out of nowhere, though, this lanky twenty-something man stationed himself right in the front of the bar.

He had been staring at you for more than five minutes, and when you paid him no mind—since you were quite frankly busy with customers—he decided to strike up a mundane conversation. It was almost nauseating. 

When you had turned your head the first time, he had his elbow resting on the bar and twirled a pint of beer in his hand. He had a fresh face and flirty twinkling eyes that almost made you gag a little. You knew exactly what he was doing, and you weren’t interested. 

You could tell he was a Naval Aviator with the whole khaki color suit and hat on his head. You could also tell that by the looks of it that he’s new.

You didn’t spin back around, though, when he asked you that question. You didn’t want to give him any attention—hopefully, he will get the goddamn hint. 

“Think you can handle all this by yourself?” Gross. 

“I’ve been doing this for a while. I think I can handle it just fine.” You then turn to Coyote with the four beers he asked for—a genuine smile on your face. He thanked you kindly before sauntering back off to your group of friends by the pool table. 

“Really? I’ve never seen you in here before.” He locked eyes with yours before trailing down your figure and admiring the curves of your hips in tight jeans—a shudder of disgust ran through your body. “I would’ve remembered someone like you.”

Yeah, he was definitely new because if he saw the six-foot-four Top Gun aviator—the top one percent of fighter pilots in the world—that was glaring daggers into him, he would have shit his pants on the spot. You were sure he would never set foot in the Hard Deck again. 

You were Bradley’s, and Bradley was yours. Everyone in the vicinity of the bar knew that. You were always perched on his lap while he spread his skilled fingers across the piano. His arms were always wrapped around your waist as you destroyed Hangman in darts. You two practically couldn’t get your hands off of each other every second of the day. 

No one in their right mind would disturb the pure, raw love between the two of you.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, you were forced under the confinements of the bar area, giving this newbie the perfect opportunity to try and stake his claim.

“Maybe you’re the forgetful one, kid. I’m here every weekend.” You fought the urge to smile in victory when he gave an annoyed expression as the word kid left your mouth.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

“You gonna do something, Rooster?”

His eyes never left your cute irritated face. He watched you give the guy a one-worded answer with a mundane expression. As much as he wanted to give you the kiss of a lifetime, he stood back. “No.”

With Bradley’s answer, Jake was even more amused. “No? I’m surprised. I’d figure by now you’d be trailing over to her like some lost little puppy.”

Bradley bit his cheek to keep from snapping back. He knew that Jake was just giving him shit. He knew that he was just trying to get him all riled up.

It’s what Jake does. But he couldn’t let anything get to him, or he would trail over to you like some lost puppy. Hangman was undoubtedly and stupidly right. 

Jake’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the brooding silence. He expected some little quip and then a smack upside the head from Phoenix right next to him.

Damn, this must be really grinding Bradley’s gears. Jake almost felt guilty for his friend sulking in the corner of the Hard Deck.

“Don’t let Bagman get to you, Rooster. He’s just jealous that your girlfriend rejected him first.”

Phoenix grinned with a teasing smile, and Jake just grumbled to himself. At that, Bradley snorted and shook his head. He was still silent, but his demeanor had at least changed. All of the pilots smiled at Rooster’s shoulders relaxing just a smidge. 

Bradley hated feeling jealous—the angry green monster that sprouted in his chest and sat home in his head was relentless in its hold on him.

His heart always throbbed in his chest, and anger bubbled through his veins when some guy or girl gave you a bashing smile and feather-light touches to your shoulder.

He always stayed silent—brooding—as he watched you from afar. He never wanted you to feel like he didn’t trust you because he did. Oh, he did. He trusts you more than anyone else in the room, and he flies life or death with some of them. He would follow you to the ends of the earth if you had asked him to.

He figured it is most likely some unresolved tension from the tragedies that have struck during his thirty-five years of life, and anyone that wanted to take you away from him burned a hole in his chest.

So, to combat these ingrained feelings, he sat idly by as that guy’s hips were attached to the bar and watched you dodge every single flirtatious glance and awkward pick-up line. He knew you could handle yourself, and there was a whole gaggle of naval aviators that would stop at nothing to make sure you were doing okay. 

“Need another beer?” A peace offering. Jake was already standing up from the bar stool and about to make his way over to you.

He nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Bagman.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

You looked bored. You looked so absolutely uninterested in this guy still speaking to you, and now, he was over-explaining how F-18 engines work and fly. You were a mechanical engineer. You knew how plane engines work. 

You tried to tell him you did, but he was quick to interrupt to continue telling you about how F-18s have more than one-hundred thousand horsepower.

If you didn’t respect Penny’s establishment and reputation, he would’ve been thrown out of the bar by now. Typical men with their typical egos. Though now that you think about it, you’re sure Penny would have encouraged it. 

Your eyes locked with Jake’s, and your eyes lit up at the familiar face. Finally, someone you actually enjoy talking to. Not that you would ever tell Jake that. 

“Need savin’ over here, hot shot?” Jake had interrupted the aviator and ignored the very irritated look that was sent his way. It was almost like the guy was insinuating that he had caught you—that you were going to be his tonight. The feeling of possession he exuded made you want to gag again. 

Jake could tell you wanted this shift to be over as soon as possible. Your eyes glanced at the random man staring at you before turning your attention back onto Hangman. “Nothing I can’t handle. How many beers?” 

“Two, please.” Jake smiled—cocky little shit. “I think you should go talk to your boyfriend over there. He’s been stewin’ for quite a while.” He paused, eyes sliding over to the stranger. “I could even help ya with the bar.”

You turn around to fill up the empty glasses that he handed to you. “Don’t I know it, Bagman.” It was like the aviator that had been hitting on you all night had disappeared—though, you wish. Just you making drinks while your friends entertained you. It was nice for a moment, actually. “I’m due for a break soon enough.” 

Jake spoke too soon, though, because Bradley was already making his way over to the bar. He couldn’t help himself when he saw the guy stare straight at your ass and bite his lip. The action made his blood seethe with vexation, so his feet started walking before his brain caught up.

“Boyfriend?” The guy looks shocked. His eyes were wide as he stared at you. “What the fuck? I’ve been trying all night, and you didn’t say a fucking thing?”

You pursed your lips. Irritated. “I did.”

“Huh?”

Rooster stood tall near the bar, watching the scene before him. He studied the menacing glare you struck at the guy and a hand resting on your hip.

“I told you multiple times when you were talking about damn plane engines that I have a boyfriend—who’s a naval aviator by the way. I’ve made it crystal clear.”

He didn’t miss a beat. The stranger’s eyebrows were furrowed in rage. He stood up from the bar in an irate stance. “You’re a fucking bitch. Do you go around eye-fucking all the guy's then?” His eyes move over to Jake’s.

“You allow your slut to do this, man?”

You, Jake, and Bradley all froze. The whole bar dulls out into silence from his loud gestures, and all eyes are on you four now. 

The audacity of this kid to insult and degrade you when all you were doing was listening to this guy talk and talk. You gave clear signs of being uninterested. Clear. Not to mention he also had the sheer audacity to make a scene in Jake and Bradley’s presence.

“The fuck did you just say?” You were almost in his face as you leaned over the bar—a hard glare set on him with your fueled anger. The grip you had on the bar counter was starting to ache, but you didn’t care. 

“Tame your fucking girl, would you?” Jake’s hands clenched by his side at the comment.

Bradley’s chest heaved up and down, and he could feel the burning emotion consume his entire body and soul. His hands were almost trembling by his side as his thoughts of tearing this asshole to shreds simmered inside his head. 

The guy scoffed. He tried to turn around to leave but was met with Bradley’s hard chest. Clearly, he had no idea what was coming.

Bradley was sweet—a kind, gentle soul. He has picked you up from your lowest and drew you back up. He has told you things about himself that not even he understands. Bradley Bradshaw was a good man—one of the best, you would even argue. 

However, he had a temper. Call it the jet fuel that was practically injected into his veins, but when that temper was pushed to the brim because someone fucked with you? Yeah, they should hope to be six feet under before Bradley could get to them. 

Bradley towered over him, almost making the guy tower down. He was seeing red—fully unsaturated rage at the disrespect toward you. The guy tried to regain some confidence, oddly enough. “Move out of my way.”

Bradley didn’t move—he didn’t even blink. His jaw clenched and unclenched. His eyes bore into the stranger to assess him. His hand twitched at his side as if it was gearing up to make a move. 

“Apologize. Now.” His voice was deep—it was gruff and hollow that immediately went straight to your chest. He didn’t look like the Bradley you knew, the Bradley that would carry you for three miles from a sprained ankle.

This Bradley looked menacing. This Bradley looked deadly. And you weren’t going to lie, it was hot as fuck. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Bradley’s eyes flashed with something you were unfamiliar with. He has been jealous before, yes, but it has mostly been the reassuring kind. This was pure seething rage. His eyes were almost red from the amount of anger that pulsated through his body. 

“Apologize.” Bradley breathes out, but his eyes are digging into the man in front of him. “Or I will rip your fucking kneecaps off.”

Jake stood tall—back stretched out as he watched the interaction. He would spot for Bradley any day, especially to assholes like this random guy. He wanted to be ready for anything that could come Bradley’s way. 

The guy opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut as Bradley took a step closer if it was even possible. He almost dared him too—almost wanted him to so Bradley could get in some punches that this guy deserved. 

“I-I-I’m sorry.” The guy tried to take a step back but was met with the bar counter. “I didn’t mean—”

“Not me.” Rooster pointed directly at you. “Her.”

He spins around faster toward you than you had seen a person spin in your life. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He looks up to your boyfriend for approval, but Bradley’s eyes locked with yours. You nodded as a signal to your boyfriend that you were okay—things were okay. All you wanted was for this guy to leave and Bradley to be by your side again. It’s all you could think about.

Bradley’s eyes retreated back to the stranger, and you could have sworn that the guy almost flinched. “If I ever see you in here again, I will not hesitate. Do you understand?”

The aviator nods vigorously and tries to ignore the deadly glare from Bradley. His hands picked at his sides in nervousness. “Do you understand?” Bradley repeats.

The aviator’s eyes widened. “Y-Yes. I understand.” 

Bradley’s posture somewhat succeeds back into a relaxed form, his eyes already returning back to you in comfort and warmth. Every tipsy person located in the bar had shouted in celebration for kicking out the guy that ruined all the fun. Coyote and Fanboy unkindly escorted him out of the bar and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “Don’t fucking come here again.”

In the bar, everything and everyone had gone back to normal. People started laughing and smiling once more—shoveling more drinks into their mouths. Some even started racking the balls on the pool table and throwing darts.

For you, though, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bradley. 

He was on you in less than a second, taking two full strides around the bar in desperation. His hands gripped your hips harshly and his lips collided against your own. Your back bumps into the bar, which causes the bottles of booze to rattle against the glass. 

His tongue is shoved into your mouth, and he groans deeply at the taste of beer. His nose harshly bumps against your cheek—messy and harsh with every swallow and molding of your mouth.

You almost whined into him. “Bradley.” Your breath fanned up against his cheeks, and his knees felt so fucking weak for you.

His body starts to sloppily drag you away from the bar and into the back corner of the Hard Deck. His lips never once left yours in a fury to feel you—to be inside of you at any and all cost. His hands make their way down the back of your thighs, and you instinctively jump. Your legs wrap around his torso as he continues to walk backward.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Go fuck like bunnies. I’ll man the bar, I guess.” But there was a hint of a small smile on his face. Finally, you two could cut the shit and fawn over each other once again. 

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Bradley pulls you into the supply closet near the break room at the back of the bar. His back hits one of the shelves, and you could hear the sound of cleaning bottles falling onto the floor. 

Neither of you could stop your fluttering hands that followed each other’s curves. Bradley’s lips trailed down your jaw and neck, which left you breathless and aching for more. Your body feels hot—and elated—from his calloused fingers digging into the flesh on your stomach.

“Bradley, please.” He thinks he knows what you are begging for. He wants to taste you on his tongue. He wants you creaming into his mouth until you’re so dumb that you don’t even remember your own name. 

To his chagrin, though, you stop the trailing hand that is trying to make its way between your thighs. “I wanna taste you, Bradley. I wanna swallow your cum.”

His eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell—” Bradley breathes out, fast and light. He watches you sink down onto your knees and clumsily drag his shorts to pool around his ankles.

You weren’t very graceful from your pure desperation to have his cock in your mouth. Bradley didn’t mind, though. 

His cock jumped from the sight and thought of you in such a state of yearning. “Pretty baby.” He whispered, but it sounded more like a whine. 

Your lips trailed kisses around his thighs. “Do you know how hot it was to see you almost lose your shit on that guy?” Your words slurred together from the intoxication of his broad muscles and lips that were sucked in between his teeth.

You pull down his boxers and almost drool from his ruddy tip dripping in pre-cum. You lightly graze your fingers across his shaft and your mouth waters from his shaft twitching. Your eyes flickered up to see his reaction, his hooded eyes watching you pump his cock.

“You had been watchin’ me all night, Roo. I could feel it.”

He licked his lips. “He-He—” He moans your name. “F-Fuck. He-He can’t take you. I–” God, you’re so hot from your lust-filled eyes racking over his hopelessly hard cock. He withers in your grasp, and he couldn't help but say your name over again. 

“Oh, Roo, no. He can’t take me, hmm?” You hum out the last part of the sentence so your mouth can gravitate to the bulging vein on the side of his cock. “I’m fucking yours, Roo. I’m yours.”

You swirl your tongue and suck your lips around his tip. His hands latch themselves into your hair, and he tugs and tugs. How is he already so close to the edge?

You’re barely touching him, but he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and the knot in his stomach twists and pulls.

“F-Fuck, pretty baby, yeah. You’re mine. You’re mine.” He repeats the saying as his hips involuntarily hump your mouth. You gag around him and his cock shoves further deep into your throat.

You want to guide him to a sweet release for being such a good partner to you. He is yours. He is your Bradley. 

“Oh, fuck–fuck baby, please. My fuckin’ girl—yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He lowly groans out—deep, guttural, and sultry—while his cum paints the inside of your mouth. Thick ropes shoot into your mouth, and the salty taste made you salivate even more. Your eyes watch his hung-open jaw and his eyes trailing down to watch you suck around his cock. 

You swallow all that he has to offer, and you moan out his name while still stuffed with his cock. His eyes widened slightly at the action, and his heart swirled in his chest. How did he get so lucky with you?

You go to stand up and pull his pants back up, but he catches your hands.

“Oh, pretty baby, you aren’t leaving me so soon, are you?” His palm rests below the back of your neck and pulls you into him. His breath fans up against your cheeks, and he presses sweet kisses on your jaw, working his way up to your temple. 

“Roo, if you don’t fuck me right this minute—”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, pretty baby, we’re jus’ getting started.”

[slut4evanpeters]

The other women

tate langdon x reader

based on "the other women" by lana del rey

warnings: angst

word count: 1.2k

notes: wrote this in the bathtub while listening to lana....maybe a little 🍃 was involved....

The days felt endless in the Murder House, stretched out in eternal dusk, punctuated only by stolen moments with Tate. For so long, you were his only solace, a quiet comfort in the night, a pair of haunted souls who clung to each other, bound by the same loneliness. You had found something rare and beautiful in him, a kind of love that didn’t need the warmth of daylight, a love that thrived in the darkness. He’d told you as much, promised you that in this house, you would always have each other.

But that was before her.

The Harmon family arrived one chilly October (?) evening, and everything changed. You felt a shift, a cold breeze that settled in your bones. You didn’t need to see Tate’s face to know that his attention was caught by her the moment she moved in. Violet. Even the sound of her name felt like an intrusion, an uninvited guest between you and him.

Days passed, and you could see the way he looked at her. He’d disappear for hours, drifting toward her room, slipping through walls just to catch a glimpse of her sitting on her bed, scribbling in her notebook, headphones on, oblivious to him. He was drawn to her in a way that was effortless and magnetic, the same way he had once been drawn to you. You’d once been that light for him. Now, you were nothing but a flickering candle in the shadow of something so much brighter.

One evening, after another day of him being away, you finally confronted him.

“Tate, where were you?” you asked, your voice barely hiding the hurt that sat, heavy and bitter, at the back of your throat. You were standing in the hallway, your arms folded, your eyes searching his for a glimpse of something familiar. Something that would tell you he was still yours.

He blinked, a small frown creasing his forehead. “Just…around,” he said, brushing past you. But you caught his wrist, desperate to keep him from slipping away.

“Around?” you repeated, bitterness coloring your tone. “Or with her?”

He looked at you, an unreadable look in his eyes, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he sighed, pulling his arm from your grasp. “You wouldn’t understand.”

You felt a pang in your chest, a sharp twist of jealousy and sorrow that you couldn’t shake. “I wouldn’t understand? Tate, I’ve been here with you. I am here with you. What does she have that I don’t?”

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for the first time, you saw it—the guilt, the hesitation. But there was something else, too, something that cut deeper than any knife.

“She’s…alive.” he said, his voice a whisper.

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. Alive. A word that meant everything in the house of the dead. You felt the cold realization settling in—you could never be what she was. She was real, tangible, and you were just a ghost. A reminder of everything he wanted but could never have.

“So that’s it?” you asked, voice breaking. “You’re just going to leave me, Tate?”

He looked at you with something close to pity, but there was no trace of regret. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted. “I just… I feel something when I’m around her. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

Your heart twisted, breaking in his hands as he stood there, speaking the truth that you’d dreaded. You wanted to scream, to cry, to beg him to choose you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. Instead, you nodded, swallowing the bile rising in your throat.

He lingered, as though he wanted to say more, but then he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the darkened hallway.

The nights became harder after that. He would come to you, always after he’d spent the day with her. You became the place he went to bury his guilt, to drown his uncertainty. He would hold you, his hands roaming, lips desperate against yours, but his touch was colder now, empty of the warmth it once held. You could feel it every time he left—pieces of him slipping away, fragments of the boy you once knew disappearing into the ether.

“Do you love her?” you asked him one night, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them. You were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, his arm draped over you in a way that felt suffocating.

He was silent for a long time, and then he spoke, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know.”

It felt like a slap. You turned, looking at him, searching his face for any sign that he might still feel something for you, that you weren’t just a substitute, a convenience. But all you saw was conflict, a tangled mess of emotions that weren’t meant for you.

“Why do you keep coming back?” you whispered, tears threatening to spill over. “If you don’t know what you feel… why do you keep coming back to me?”

He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing. “Because…you’re familiar. You’re safe.”

Safe. The word made you feel hollow, like an afterthought. You were the comfort he turned to when things got too heavy with her, the steady presence he clung to when he couldn’t face his own feelings. But you were never the one he truly wanted.

“You’re using me,” you choked out, the realization hitting you like a wave. “I’m just… I’m just here because it’s easy.”

His eyes shot open, guilt flashing across his face. “No, that’s not-”

“Don’t lie to me, Tate,” you cut him off, voice trembling. “You love her. I can see it every time you look at her. You don’t look at me like that anymore.”

He tried to reach for you, but you pulled away, heart breaking with each step you took. “I love you,” he said softly, and for a moment, you almost believed him. Almost.

“Then why isn’t it enough?” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. You didn’t wait for his answer. You turned and left the room, your heart shattering with each step you took, knowing that he would go back to her, knowing that he would continue to look at her the way he once looked at you.

In the end, you resigned yourself to your role—the other woman, the forgotten ghost lingering in the halls, waiting for a boy who would never be yours. You kept your room meticulously clean, arranged fresh flowers in every corner, wore the scent he loved, all for the rare moments when he would slip away from her to be with you. But every time he held you, you felt the emptiness, the absence of the boy you had loved. The boy who had once promised you forever.

And as the years wore on, you found yourself alone more often than not, crying into the quiet, knowing that no matter how hard you tried, you would always be the second choice, the one he would leave behind. The one he would never love the way he loved her.

The other woman.

[wndaswife]

two slow dancers

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

tags: smut, fluff, angst, unspecified age gap, jealousy, strap-ons, cnc, manipulation, breast slapping, cunnilingus, hair pulling, slight spanking, belly bulges, degradation, praise, dumbification, mommy kink, breeding kink, piss kink, impact play, breast play, mentions of somnophilia, dom!wanda maximoff, sub!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 6996

summary: Your coworker invites you and a few others to celebrate New Year's Eve at her place, but all she wants to do is get you alone.

gif credit to creator.

Through your window, stray fireworks shoot up in the dusked horizon.

A week ago, your coworker, Wanda, invited you over for a New Year’s Eve gathering at her house. She started at the job no longer than a month ago, and you believe you’ve gotten relatively close with her since then.

Wanda Maximoff is thirty-four with an ex-husband and two twin boys you’ve never met. You’ve seen her ex once when he was dropping some things off for her at work. The exchange you observed could only be described as one between two vaguely similar creatures at best, interacting only out of necessity. They shared children and nothing more.

She took a liking to you in particular, and you were grateful for having her company for the last month.

She had a knack for offering comfort, and you often found yourself revealing to her some of your most intimate feelings and worries when you hadn’t even intended to. Wanda would always be so kindhearted, running a hand down your arm or squeezing your thigh gently while responding to you with supportive coos.

Now that the day of the party has come around, you’re standing in front of a mirror, holding up a pair of earrings to each side of your face. You survey the glistening faux emeralds, turning them around and observing them with great focus in the mirror before opting for a different pair.

“Are you ready?” a voice chimes from the hallway. 

Looking into the mirror, you see Monica step into your bedroom in a pair of black jeans and a warm blue-green long sleeve. 

“Just about…” you mutter, putting on a pair of pearl earrings. Turning around to face your friend, you ask, “Does it match?”

After a moment of deliberation, Monica nods. “Yeah, it matches,” she confirms and heads over to your bed to get your purse. “Who are you dressing up for, huh?” she inquires, a grin forming on her face as she looks over at you getting your jacket on. “Wanda?”

Your eyes snap over to her too quickly to hide your peaked interest at your coworker’s name. “What?” you chuckle out nervously. You lean down to pick up a pair of flats from your closet, thankful for the way your hair shrouded your suddenly-flushed face.

With crossed arms, Monica approaches your bedroom door as she looks down at you, amused.

“N-No,” you finally answer. “I just want to look good. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“Sure,” Monica says simply, nodding. She hooks her arm around yours and leaves the bedroom with you.

You carpool to Wanda’s house together, as plans were to meet everyone there at a certain time. Despite having left early, Monica takes a wrong turn and you end up getting caught in traffic as the car takes the main roads to Wanda’s place.

Finally, you arrive at your destination about half an hour late.

With her homemade mango float and your bottle of champagne, Monica hopes the both of you can apologise to Wanda for the late arrival. She makes a joke that Wanda wouldn’t mind in the slightest if the two of you came even two hours late so long as you were arriving with her. 

The front door to Wanda’s house opens, revealing your coworker with her brown hair let down, and you notice for the first time how long it is. Today, she is wearing a bit of blush and a darker red lip than she normally wears for work.

Her eyes flicker between you and Monica before Monica lifts up a covered dish of mango float, breaking the brief silence.

“We’re sorry for how late we are. Traffic,” she says, a sheepish smile forming on her face.

As if returning to the present, Wanda blinks and smiles. “It's quite alright,” she reassures.

Just then, Darcy pops up behind Wanda and reaches her arms out to take the mango float from Monica’s hands. “Thank you,” she says graciously, eyeing the tinfoiled dish as if she would take a whole bite out of it then and there, tinfoil and ceramic material included. 

“Hey, Y/N. Happy New Year’s Eve,” she greets with a grin.

“Hi, Darcy,” you reply with a smile and a little wave.

Monica steps into the house and takes her boots and jacket off. Darcy leads her into the house.

Then, it’s only you and Wanda standing at the front door.

“Oh dear, how rude of me,” your coworker says. “Please, sweetheart, come in.” She ushers you into her house and tucks a hand under your jacket, making your back straighten. If she notices your sudden jerk of tension, she says nothing of it. Her hand loops around your waist to your furthest hip so her arm embraces you under your jacket.

Her hand reaches down below your eyeline while you’re looking up at her. You’re hugged against her side, swallowing your nerves but trembling all the same.

“Is this for me?” she whispers, grinning as if amused.

All you can manage in response is an idiotic, “Wh-What?”

A bottle of champagne is lifted up so you can see it and, with her eyes, Wanda gestures to it.

“Oh,” you say, then clear your throat. “Yeah, that’s for you. For everyone, kind of.”

Wanda hums and examines the bottle. Her eyes return to you and she smiles again. “We can say it’s for everyone to appease the guests,” she suggests and removes her arm from around your body. She begins to take off your jacket with her free hand and you slip your other arm out of the sleeve. She hangs your jacket up for you, and with her hand against your lower back, leads you out of the front foyer and into the living room.

Familiar happy faces greet you once you enter the living room with some women lounging on the couches and some standing around.

Jen, Darcy, Natasha and her younger sister Yelena, an unfamiliar girl who you would later find is named Kate, and Carol all exchange greetings with you.

Wanda’s hand leaves your lower back and you turn to watch her place your champagne on the kitchen counter with a few other bottles of wine and a cooler of what you suppose is filled with sparklers and beer.

Monica pulls you down onto the couch and you take a seat between her and Darcy. 

You think you see a flash of Wanda eyeing you from across the living room from beyond the passthrough window that connects the living room and the kitchen, but when you look over to her, she’s already starting a conversation with Jennifer. 

You tell yourself that you’ll talk with Wanda later.

A body suddenly sprawls itself out across the laps of you and the two other women on either side of you, thus taking your attention away from Wanda.

Carol stretches herself out in front of the three of you.

“Happy New Year’s Eve, Y/N,” she says with a grin that reminds you all too well of a golden retriever. 

You respond with an equally large smile, “Happy New Year’s Eve, Carol.”

The afternoon passes swiftly, especially with Wanda hosting. Not a moment passes when there aren’t drinks nor fresh snacks and food available along the kitchen counter. She’s an extremely attentive host, engaging herself in conversation and ensuring everyone is well taken care of.

Wanda also gave everyone a tour of her house during which she got endless compliments on nearly every room she introduced. 

Eventually, all of you gather around the dining room table playing a board game Kate brought and are divided into two teams. You have no idea how to play.

At the sight of your confused expression, Wanda places a hand dangerously close to your ass and pulls you close to her under the table. 

“Do you know how to play, darling?” she inquires with a curious tip of her head.

When you tell her you don’t, she invites you to sit beside her and stay on her team. She tells you she’s played it with her twins and ex-husband a handful of times and that she’ll help you through it.

You settle in the chair beside Wanda and move yourself closer to the table.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!” Monica announces and rushes over from the washroom. “What team should I join?”

“Join Y/N’s,” Wanda suggests. “I do believe couples should avoid all competition if possible.”

A few laughs and confused expressions are exchanged around the table.

“Cou…” you trail off and look up at Monica, who looks equally as confused as you. “What?”

“We’re not together,” Monica corrects with an awkward smile and a chuckle.

“Oh, you aren’t?” she repeats, looking between the two of you. You recall the way she looked at the two of you when you arrived together and when you took a seat beside Monica on the couch before. Though it was true that you and Monica were close, one would truly have to reach to come to the conclusion that you were dating each other.

Then, Wanda laughs. “I was under the impression that you were. My apologies,” she says.

The misunderstanding is easily forgotten because Wanda only started working with all of you about a month ago. Anyone could understand the mistake. But even so, your face remains flushed as you think back to the curious stares you got from her, and you were caught up in the momentary glint of envy behind each one.

Monica takes a seat beside Darcy, on the other team across the table.

Kate sets up the game and Wanda pours everyone a glass of the champagne you brought and leaves the bottle in the middle of the table for anyone to refill their glasses.

“Come closer, Y/N,” Wanda whispers once Yelena and Kate begin explaining the rules of the game. She wraps her fingers under your chair and moves your chair closer to her. 

Wanda’s arm remains comfortably wrapped around your waist despite your occasional movements. You watch her concentrated face, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she listens to the rest of the game instructions all while her hand is running up and down your side as if you were an idle pet.

A pressure forms between your thighs and you adjust your position on your chair.

The game becomes increasingly amusing the more all of you sip at glasses of champagne and some on their bottles of beer, steadily growing more tipsy.

At some point during the game, Wanda’s arm leaves from around your waist, after which her hand ends up finding your thigh instead. Absentmindedly, her hand moves up and down your thigh, her fingers sometimes rounding your leg and squeezing.

Now that you were tipsy, you’d become significantly sensitive, shuddering under her touch and having difficulty playing your part of the game. Your face feels warm, which doesn’t help the blush that you know is there.

After the other team gains an advantage of six points against yours, they’re deemed the winners and everyone helps clean up. They decide to watch a movie and Wanda leaves the dining room momentarily to show them how to work the remote and the television.

There are plans to play a different game afterwards and you hear Wanda say she has it upstairs and will fetch it so it’s ready once the movie starts.

“Come help me, Y/N,” she says as she passes through the dining room to the staircase. Wanda stops at the base of the stairs and lets you catch up with her before you ascend together.

You follow beside her quietly, looking around curiously at the second floor. You’d seen it before when Wanda gave the tour of the house, but it was different now that it was empty other than for you and her. 

With the silence, you could envision Wanda living here on her own, heading upstairs in the evening and descending in the mornings. For the first time, you feel a sort of pity for Wanda’s living circumstances. It’s a quiet house, and rather large. It’s New Year’s Eve and you haven't seen Tommy, Billy, or even her ex-husband. 

You follow behind Wanda when she unlocks her bedroom door and steps in. 

“How are you enjoying the evening so far, sweet girl?” she asks. It’s only when Wanda looks over her shoulder at you that you redirect your attention from her bedroom. 

“Oh,” you answer idly then clear your throat. “I’m enjoying myself. It’s been really fun.”

When Wanda reaches her closet, she opens it and leans down to dig through a pile of boxes. Your eyes instinctively move to the curve of her ass, but you force yourself to look away and at the dresses and coats hanging in the closet. 

“What are you enjoying about it, sweetheart?” Wanda asks once she straightens and closes the closet with her free hand. In her other hand, a few stacked boxes of board games. She approaches you and you struggle to answer her.

It’s incredible what a fool you become around her.

Wanda smiles and sets the board games atop the corner of her bed. She raises her hand to your face and strokes your cheek with her knuckles. “You’re so young,” she whispers. The words themselves didn’t sound entirely like a compliment nor insult, but her eyes that are softened in gentle admiration tells you otherwise. 

You swallow and make a noise that was supposed to sound like a ‘thank you,’ or at least an acknowledgement of her commendation.

“Come here,” Wanda says, her hand dropping to your own. She takes it and leads you towards her vanity. She lifts your arm and with her other hand on your hip, moves you forward to round the seat that’s in front of vanity. Then, two hands are placed on your hips from behind and Wanda guides you into sitting down.

In the mirror, you can see her looming above you from behind. But Wanda isn’t looking in the mirror. She’s looking down at you from above. Her hands move upwards, up your sides and up the sides of your breasts, then to your shoulders. Finally, her hands find each side of your head where Wanda finally does look up at the mirror.

Careful fingers brush your hair back behind your ears.

“These are pretty, Y/N,” she tells you. Her thumbs flick at your pearl earrings.

You blush and utter a quiet, “Thank you.”

Wanda smiles at your graciousness and runs the backs of her fingers down the sides of your face. She continues to do this for the next few moments, alternating between the tips of her fingers to her thumbs to the backs of her fingers, exploring your face gently. With a featherweight pressure, she runs her fingers across your bottom lip, your brow bone, your forehead and your temples.

You watch in silence as she does so.

Green eyes flicker up from your face and into your eyes through the mirror. They wrinkle at the edges when she smiles slightly.

“Turn to me,” she instructs and you do while she leans forward and digs through a box on top of her vanity.

When Wanda straightens, you’re looking right up at her. Your legs are dangling off the other side of the chair and your face is in front of her stomach. Her hand cups your cheek and she positions a mascara wand in front of your face.

“Look up,” she says. When you look up at the bedroom ceiling, Wanda moves the wand forward. She brushes your eyelashes gently, retouching your makeup, and you’re tempted to look down at her but do not lest you get mascara on your eyebrow.

Her thumb strokes at the corner of your mouth.

Then, suddenly, Wanda whispers, “My boys didn’t want to spend New Year’s with me.”

At her words, you look down at her immediately. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth in forewarning and you look back up to the ceiling,

You question, “Why?”

“Perhaps… their father is more attuned to celebration and I am not,” she supposes. 

“Why didn’t you celebrate together?” you ask and instantly bite your tongue for asking too much. But Wanda’s thumb continues to stroke the corner of your mouth and she shows no sign of irritation.

“They didn’t want to,” she answers. Wanda moves to your other eye. “Almost done.”

There’s a momentary silence between the two of you until you ask, “When will you see them next?”

“I presume the first week of January,” she thinks aloud. “Some time then.”

Wanda inhales softly but you hear the long drag of her breath. 

“Are your parents together, Y/N?” she asks.

“No, they divorced when I was younger.”

With a nod, Wanda says, “I see.” 

Then after a moment, she speaks again, “Was there ever any partiality?”

“It was hard sometimes, from what I remember,” you answer. Wanda nods. “But I really loved both of them the same. They were my parents. They did love me, I always knew that.”

Wanda’s hand leaves your cheek and she reaches back to twist it back into its bottle. “Finished,” she states and lifts a handheld mirror to your face. She tucks your hair back behind your ears. “Look how pretty you are.”

“Wanda,” you whisper.

She looks from the mirror and over to you, lips parted. “What is it?” 

“There isn’t a moment your boys don’t know how much you love them. How could they?” you uttered quietly. “And they love you because of it. Loving them is, essentially, one of the greatest things you can do for a kid. Any child would be extremely lucky to have you as their mother. You mustn't think they don’t know that. They’ll come back to you. I promise you they will.”

Wanda only stares down at you, her eyebrows still slightly pushed together. Her lips twitch in a miniscule, hardly noticeable way, and you wouldn’t have noticed it had you not been staring at them- the soft curves and the full faded-red shade of them.

Her finger hooks under your chin and she sets the mirror down on the edge of the vanity seat. She tugs her finger up carefully and you stand from your seat, but Wanda leans down quick enough to kiss your lips and you stumble back down onto it. Her hands find your hips then round them to your ass, squeezing harshly and pulling you up.

Clumsily, you trip forward against her, but Wanda steadies you. She turns you and makes you walk backwards into her bed.

The back of your knees meet with the edge of her bed and you sit back. Her wrists escape your hold and she slips her cardigan off, then her shirt. You lean forward and kiss her stomach, peppering kisses upwards while you unbutton her jeans and pull them down to her ankles.

Wanda reaches down and unzips your dress. She pushes its sleeves from your shoulders and eagerly pulls it down to your waist. With a hand on your shoulder, she pushes you back onto the bed and you move backwards atop of it so Wanda can pull your dress from your hips. She tosses it onto the foot of her bed and runs her hands up your thighs as she straightens.

She delivers a spank to the side of your ass and with a swift wave of her hand, pushes the board games from her bed, sending them toppling down to the floor.

You move further backwards onto her bed and Wanda gets on. She starts at your knees, parting your thighs slowly as she moves up your body. 

Wanda nips at your inner thighs, sucking at your skin and running her tongue up anywhere she could. Her hands find your ass again and she lifts you up from the bed momentarily so she could nudge her nose against your clothed clit. She grins at your muffled whimper and nips at your hip teasingly. She peppers wet kisses up your stomach and up to the valley of your breasts.

Her hands on your ass move up your body and find the clasp of your bra, taking it off and tossing it somewhere behind her. She gropes your breasts with both hands and moans appreciatively. She pinches your nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

Her grin widens. “Look how cute you are, huh?” she muses and plays with your tits in her hands, massaging them thoroughly and tugging at your nipples.

Straddling your hips and rolling them forward slightly to rub her clothed pussy against your thigh, Wanda pushes your breasts together and leans down to flick her tongue across each of your nipples. She kisses your breasts and then your painfully erect nipples, making you shudder. Her lips wrap around one of your buds, suckling at you and raking her teeth against you.

Your back lifts from the bed, pushing your breasts further against Wanda’s face as you moan out. Her free hand gropes your tit, her thumb having a particularly enjoyable time playing with your nipple.

“Feels good, baby?” she asks, looking up at you.

You hum out in response because you can’t manage any real words.

Wanda grins at your incapacity and switches breasts. Her saliva cools your other nipple in her mouth’s wake. Her other hand takes hold of one of yours and brings it up to your breast, making you fondle yourself.

The speed of her hips quicken and Wanda’s lips release from your nipple to moan out, her exhale warm against your skin. She straightens herself and moves to sit on your lower stomach, detaching her cunt from your thigh. You can see a darkened patch of her slick against her red panties.

She reaches back and unclips her bra.

Your cheeks and ears become warm as her tits push against your face when Wanda leans down and kisses your forehead. 

“Touch mommy’s breasts, puppy. Don’t be shy,” she utters against your forehead before sitting up and running her hands up your chest.

You reach up and press your hands to her breasts like she asked, fingers squeezing around them and making Wanda moan out. Her hips begin rolling forward against your stomach as she craves friction once more.

She squeezes your tits again, paying special attention to your hardened buds. 

Then Wanda reaches forward, her breasts only mere inches from your face once again. You hear her dig through her nightstand while you hold onto her shoulders, looking up at her face. She smiles over at you appreciatively when you kiss the side of her breast.

When she closes the nightstand and sits up, she’s holding some type of harness and a rather large black dildo. She watches your expression closely, smiling at the shock that comes over you. “Interested, my sweet girl?” she asks you with a quirked eyebrow.

You swallow nervously and Wanda slips off the bed. You watch her slip her panties off and run a few fingers through her cunt. She leans forward and sticks them into your mouth. You wrap your lips around her fingers immediately. 

She curls them in your mouth and you suck from them eagerly.

Wanda smiles and slips her fingers out once they’re cleaned of her juices. She strokes your cheek then pulls away to finish inserting the dildo and strapping the harness around her hips. 

When Wanda mounts the bed again and straddles your hips, she lays her cock across your lower stomach. Her hand reaches down between the two of you and pulls your panties down your legs.

Cold fingers press against your bare cunt and a small smile forms on Wanda’s lips at the shudder that runs through your body at the contact. She draws wide circles against your clit, her middle finger slowly entering and exiting your hole. She traces your opening with the pad of her finger while her free hand plays with your hair.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” she says, looking down at your naked body. Her fingers release their hold on your hair and she runs her fingers through the valley of your breasts all while you squirm below her. “So perfect. These beautiful tits and your young body. Gods, even at your age, I never looked like this.”

“You’re…” you manage to say through your whimpers, “... beautiful too, Wanda.”

She smiles at that but her thoughts are indiscernible. 

Now thoroughly saturated with your cum, Wanda wraps her hand around her cock, jerking it softly and coating it with your juices. Moving her hips back slightly, she positions herself against your opening. 

She lowers herself to your face, your breasts pushed up against hers as she kisses the tip of your nose. 

You feel her begin to enter you and a surge of panic quickens your heartbeat. “W-Wanda, no, it’s too big,” you plead, turning your head to look at her as she buries her nose against your cheek. 

“It’ll fit,” she presses.

“No, it won-”

You’re cut off as Wanda’s hips advance forward. You feel yourself begin to stretch out for her and your eyes shut tightly. You’re wet enough for her to glide against you, but you can’t stretch enough for her- she’s too big. It won’t fit. She’ll break you in half.

“Wanda, please!” you cry against her.

“Mommy,” Wanda corrects, hissing against your temple, “will make it fit. Just be a good girl and stay still.”

Your face contorts into something tight and anguished.

Once Wanda fits her tip past your opening, her speed of entering you quickens and you cry out, reaching up and trying to push her off of you.

She raises her hand to your breast and slaps it harshly, making you pull away from her and withdraw your arms. She gropes it, fingernails digging into your skin. 

“Do not move,” Wanda commands, each word thumping heavily against your ears as she speaks from beyond clenched teeth. She releases your breast and takes a hold of both of your wrists before holding them up above your head.

“I’m not above tying you down, Y/N,” she jests with a grin though you know her words are more than partially true. The words send a chill up your spine and you feel a shameful sense of warmth spread through you despite yourself.

She buries her face in your neck and kisses her way up to your ear. “Just relax, my beautiful girl. It’ll hurt less,” she hushes. “Mommy will take good care of you.” 

Her lips wrap around your lobe and she sucks softly at the flaccid skin. Her warm saliva cools your skin in the wake of her lips when Wanda moves towards your face. Her nose rubs against your temple, then her cheek against your own as a mother would her young. 

Her lips are pressed against your cheek and she continues to whisper soft praises and words of encouragement against your flushed skin, her warm breath cocooning you in a snug embrace.

Your hips finally come into contact with Wanda’s and you whimper. Every movement you make creates a pressure in the base of your spine, reminding you that you have the largest cock you’ve ever taken deep inside of you.

“Ah, do you see?” Wanda coos. “You took it all.”

With a shaky exhale, you nod. You open your eyes to see Wanda smiling down at you warmly and you suddenly feel extremely proud of yourself.

She kisses you tenderly and utters against your lips, “You’re such a smart girl. So bright,” she murmurs. “Mommy knows how to take care of you, doesn’t she?”

You nod with a happy smile and kiss her again.

Wanda laughs softly through her nose and kisses the space between your eyebrows when you part from the kiss. “Now, I don’t want to see you disobey me again. You ought to know how helpless and dumb you are without me. Good smart girls listen to their mommies,” she instructs.

“Yes, mommy. Wanna be a good girl,” you affirm, wiggling joyfully underneath her. The pressure of Wanda’s cock returns as you wiggle your hips so you stop immediately, though you feel an urge to buck your hips upwards to see what it would feel like.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she praises and pecks your lips, her tone suddenly maternal. She sits up again and takes hold of your hips with both hands, pulling you forward so the lower half of your body rests atop her lap. 

She pulls your ass against her lower stomach, her hips moving forward and moving her cock deep inside you.

You squirm and only feel it deeper within you, her strap stretching you out as it moves either way while fitting snugly between your walls. 

Then Wanda begins thrusting forward. With your thighs wrapped weakly around her waist, she thrusts her hips against your ass. 

Your head falls back against the pillow and your eyes screw shut at the immense pressure that forms at the base of your spine.

“Fuck, malyshka,” Wanda grunts, “you’re tight.” She places her hand on your lower stomach, drawing soothing circles there with her palm. The act relaxes you slightly and Wanda quickens her thrusts. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and restrain a cry. “Mama, too big…” you slur out, grasping at the bed sheets underneath you.

She responds, “You’ll take it, fucking slut.” Wanda pulls out of you suddenly and flips you onto your stomach. With her hands on your hips, she tugs you forward and sticks your ass into the air. She enters your cunt again and you cry out into a pillow. But Wanda does not take precautions she previously did. Her hips pick up speed and she slams forward into your ass repeatedly.

The slapping of skins mingle with the sounds of your muffled cries and Wanda’s grunts.

With the last fragments of capability you have to think independently, you hope desperately that none of the guests downstairs come through the door. You don’t realise how far ahead Wanda had planned when she first took you upstairs, nor the fact that she locked the door.

Your cries steadily turn into moans of pleasure if not fucked out of you with each thurst against your ass. Your hands unclench from the bed sheets but your face is still pressed into Wanda’s pillow. 

Her front presses against your back and Wanda’s groans exhale against the side of your neck.

“Tell mommy you love her cock,” she instructs, then kisses your shoulder.

Your words are slurred against the pillow as you answer, “I love your cock, mama.” You move your head so your lips are exposed to the air and your repeated words can be heard more clearly, but what comes out is no more discernible than before.

Wanda kisses the side of your neck and straightens. This time, she takes you with her, pulling you up so you’re sitting on her lap, your back still pressed against her front. Your knees are on the outer sides of Wanda’s, your legs spread as you sit on her lap. 

You can feel her nipples grazing against your back as Wanda thrusts upwards into you.

With this position, your moans are expelled into the room that already seems to you to be muggy with the scent of sex and the hot pants from the two of you.

She buries her face in your neck, wrapping her lips around your pulse and sucking. She bites down on another spot, causing you to cry out and jerk forward. But she wraps her hands around your waist, keeping you in place.

Her eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts, and with an amused and nearly sadistic smirk, she slaps one of your tits, and then the other. You hear her chuckle against your neck between your yelps. Both hands then grope your breasts, massaging harshly and twisting your nipples callously. 

“Mama, no, that hurts,” you whimper pathetically, squirming on her lap.

Wanda hums, uninterested in your pleading. She kisses your shoulder. “Mommy hurts you because she loves you, puppy,” she says. 

One of her hands moves down to your lower stomach. Her hand brushes over the bulge there, feeling the way it pushes against her hand with every one of her thrusts into your pussy. The heel of her hand presses down without warning. Immense pressure shoots through you and makes your clit throb.

You cry out and you feel your walls squeeze around Wanda’s cock. A different kind of pressure that you can’t quite discern forms in your lower stomach.

“My pretty brainless fucktoy,” Wanda coos into your ear. 

You feel warm pride bloom within you, but you can only manage a garbled, “Thank you, mommy.”

“I want to fill you with my children,” she pants into your ear. Her hips quicken as she continues, evidently turned on by what she’s saying. Your body jerks on top of her lap helplessly, your breasts bouncing at each harsh thrust and making it impossible for Wanda not to continue playing with them.

“Come in your pussy and fill your tight hole full of my hot cream,” she says. “I want you to carry my children. I want to see your pretty belly full of my puppies, to see our babies as cute as you. I want to come home from work to fuck my adorable little housewife dumb, until you can only take more of my seed, filling you over and over like the willing little breeding bitch you are.” 

Wanda reaches up and takes the lower half of your face into her hand harshly. She turns your head and kisses you. Despite her words and the harsh way she’s fucking you, despite the brusing handling of your breasts and the bites she delivered to your neck, her kiss is soft and possessive, her lips moving against yours in soft embraces as if worshiping them.

“You’ll be mommy’s precious cockwhore. I’ll fuck your pussy whenever it pleases me. If you’re angry with mama, if you’re sleeping, if we’re out together- I won’t spare any mercy in taking you for my own,” she grunts with the effort she’s putting into fucking you. “From now on, you’re mine.”

Her hand reaches down and she brushes three fingers side-to-side against your clit, sending you throttling forward and closer to your orgasm. 

Wanda kisses up your neck adoringly, nipping where she can and sucking at your skin soothingly. “Come for mommy, moya lyubov,” she whispers against your cheek then kisses it. “Let me see my perfect little girl.” Her free hand rounds your waist. The heel of her hand presses into your tummy bulge and her fingers pick up speed.

The indiscernible pressure in your lower stomach from earlier suddenly flowers, and at the slightest taste of your orgasm, it comes into fruition. You wince and hide your face in the mess of Wanda’s sweet-smelling hair, and a warm burst of release streams out of you.  

Wanda inhales sharply and her lips part from your neck so she can look down your body where you’re pissing all over her lap.

Your body is fatigued and now acting on its own without any conscious thought, leaving you to Wanda’s mercy as she takes your body for her own. In your complete abandonment of independence, it’s only Wanda who’s holding you up and keeping you warm.

“Oh, Y/N,” she whispers, in awe at your release. Her lips form into a grin and she kisses you. Her hand wraps around her dick, carefully pulling it out of your pathetically wet hole. She lets go of her cock and she slowly slides her hand up your cunt, allowing her hand and fingers to be soaked by your piss. “That’s a good, good girl. That’s right. Just let go, baby.”

Your cries release in short, trembling whimpers and Wanda kisses up your cheek. She presses a kiss to your soft lips.

While you quiver on her lap, your walls clenching hard around nothing and getting used to being empty after taking mommy’s thick cock, Wanda unfastens her strap from around her hips.

She lays you down carefully, onto your back. She kisses your breast, lips grazing your nipple and making you shudder. She watches you pant and squirm weakly with a smile as she slips the harness from her ankles and lays it on the edge of the bed.

The bed dips around you as you slip in and out of sleep. When the bed dips by your head, you open your eyes and find yourself looking up at Wanda. Even while dazed, you’re struck by the sight of her- her cascading hair and her breasts, the plain of her stomach and the creamy white porcelain shade of her soft skin.

Wanda caresses your cheek with her hand and when her knee brushes against your ear, you realise they’re on either side of your head. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you say suddenly, looking up at the older woman with nothing but admiration in the glints of your eyes.

She smiles, though from the angle you’re laying at, you can’t see the soft blush that forms across her face at your words.

Unlike before, it seems that Wanda does believe in the genuinity of your words. It reaches her, embracing her in a way she hasn’t been in years.

“Thank you,” she answers, stroking her thumb across your cheekbone. Then she lowers herself, her cunt pressing up against the lower half of your face.

She throws her head back immediately, one hand going to grip at the headboard and the other grasping at your hair painfully. A long moan escapes her and Wanda begins rolling her hips forward and back.

You part your lips, immediately taken by the taste of her pussy. You dart your tongue out and allow Wanda to ride the stiff muscle. She jerks her hips to the side slightly, teasing her clit and making her clench around nothing.

When the tip of your nose nudges against her sensitive bud, Wanda shudders and chases the feeling quickly, rolling her hips further up and now riding your face steadily. You take your breaths in time with the rolling of Wanda’s hips when your nose is uncovered.

Your lips, chin, and nose are completely coated in her cum, and you feel it begin to glaze your cheeks over in its sticky coating too. Your lips make a circular shape against her cunt, allowing you to suck at her hole then at the rim of it, which Wanda finds particularly pleasurable, evident by the way her thighs tighten around your head.

“Fuck, puppy…” she moans. “So… good. You’re talented.”

With a jerking motion, you turn your head and create a certain friction against Wanda’s pussy that makes her screw her eyes shut and huff out.

The tip of your tongue raises and teases at her hole before delving into her. With her clit pressed down against your nose, Wanda reaches her hilt. Her fingers grip at your hair painfully, pulling you up against her pussy. Her thighs tremble and a melody of pleasured moans and pants mingle.

She climbs off from sitting on your face and sits beside your hip, one leg on the bed and the other dangling off of it. Her thumb runs across your cheek. “What a mess you’ve made of yourself, Y/N,” she states, her voice a low thrum. “Let me clean you up.”

While you doze off in her bed, an indefinite amount of time passing, Wanda soon returns in a red silk robe that only just covers her ass after having redone and retouched her own makeup. She takes a seat at the edge of the bed. She leans over you and with a cool soft cloth, wipes your smudged makeup off.

Her elbow is holding herself up while she pets your head with her free hand. She wipes your makeup and the beads of sweat from your face.

Once she finishes, she lays the cloth on her nightstand and looks down at you. She kisses your face, slowly, all over your forehead and cheeks, your closed eyes, your chin, and finally, your lips. 

“There we go,” Wanda whispers. She touches your face with her fingers while watching you slowly awaken from your brief nap. “You’re very pretty, Y/N. You’re so young…” she says quietly, looking down at you with a small smile, “and your skin is so soft.”

You finally open your eyes and Wanda’s smile widens.

Subtle, muffled music plays downstairs.

“They must be getting close to the end of the movie,” Wanda says. She places her hand between your breasts and draws invisible shapes on your chest with the tips of her fingers. “It's one of my favourites. I won’t spoil it for you. I think we should watch it together, just the two of us.”

The soft hymn continues to play downstairs. 

“I love this song too,” she adds. “Come dance with me. Then we can get ready to join the others again.” Wanda stands from the bed and, while you sit up, retrieves a soft fleece blanket from her closet. She returns to you and wraps it around your shoulders.

You stand from the bed and Wanda pulls you against her chest, her arms wrapped around your shoulders and back, keeping you cocooned by the warm blanket. She tucks your head under her chin. 

“Thank you for what you said earlier, Y/N,” Wanda whispers. “Those were very kind words. I’ll treasure them eternally.”

You nuzzle your face against her chest. “I meant it,” you say.

“I know.”

Wanda cradles the back of your head with her hand, her fingers scratching gently at your scalp. She hums along with the barely-audible music downstairs while the two of you sway in the middle of her bedroom.

[j0kers-light]

Hi Chaos! I've seen your headcanons of J with a cat and I loved it 😊

It was great to see that Joker loves cats because I love them too! And I thought, what if Twilight had baby kittys and Reader was with the kittens all day, leaving aside the Joker?

Hey hi anon!!! 🖤✨

Ooooh!!! I remember the cat hc! Let’s expand on this because we all love a jealous Joker 🤭I hope you enjoy anon!

Only Joker would become jealous over a cat that HE bought for you 🥴

What started out as a companion gift for the long nights when J was away turned into a rivalry unlike no other. Again. You can’t believe he was jealous over a cat.

Twilight is a smart girl. Her green eyes watch your every move, she voices her disapproval if you feel down, and she’s super clingy just like her co-owner. What’s not to love?

Joker could tolerate Twilight, she’s just one cat to contend with for your attention. That doesn’t stop him from locking her out of rooms so he can cuddle with you instead.

She refuses to lose so easily and scratches at the door to earn your sympathy vote. And those sad wittle mewls!!!! How can you say no to her?!? 😭

Her knowing eyes mock Joker whenever you give her more attention. This rivalry goes on for several weeks until it stops abruptly.

Joker was not concerned when Twilight disappeared but you were devastated! She was a wonderful companion and wiser than an human being. You cried your heart out on J’s shoulder.

He thought he won the war. He refuses to share you with anyone or any being. Imagine his surprise when Twilight returned. With a litter of kittens.

Joker didn’t stand a chance.

Now Twilight and her four kittens steal all of your time leaving him stewing in jealousy.

You doted on them as if they were your actual children and Joker (your big baby) was nearing his limit.

He wanted your attention too! Did he not deserve your affection? He got to thinking and the cats had to go.

They were in the way.

It wouldn’t be the first time he delivered a sack of dead kittens to the GCPD, it was in his nature. But right as he was hovering over the cute little nest you made for them out of blankets and such, you appeared behind him.

“Whatcha doing Joker?”

He jumped and turned around with a nervous grin plastered on his face, “Bunny!! What a uh.. pleasant surprise!”

You weren’t buying his sweet talk. Did he think you were stupid? He mumbles in his sleep and you were hip to his nefarious thoughts.

“I would really hate if you were thinking about hurting my babies. You wouldn’t harm them would you, J?” You arched an eyebrow at his fidgety demeanor.

He was so busted.

You looked like a protective mama ready to defend your young. It was hot, although he knew you wouldn’t be in the mood if he commented on it. Soooo he applied some heavy damage control.

“I ahh.. n-no Bun I would neve~errrrrr. I was just um checkin’ in on em!” Joker said.

You crossed your arms. “They have names you know.”

Joker was at a loss so you sighed and helped him out. Of course he didn’t care to remember their names.

“That one is called Dawn because of its lighter coat and that’s Midnight for obvious reasons. Oh and I can’t forget Dusk and Eve.” you said as you pointed out each kitten.

Joker gave you a side eye for the original names. “You really thought this out huh.” He said dryly.

“Of course! I already put them up for adoption on my blog. Everyone but Dusk has a forever home. I can’t possibly take care of four kittens! Twilight and you are more than enough for me.”

You raked your fingers through Joker’s hair and he immediately hummed out his gratitude.

Finally he was getting some attention even if you implied he was a feline. He could ignore that for now.

[pinkydevil16]

hi! will you write an eric x reader where reader pines over eric (but in style) and eric feels incredibly drawn to her so when she is dancing and flirting with someone in the club, eric loses it and gets all protective and claims her as his or something smutty/fluffy/protective/jealousy shit like that

Yesssssss ERIC NORTHMAN BABY!! Changed it to add backstory etc :)

Y/n had spent months pining over Eric as he sat upon the throne and demanded her attention, Sookie had introduced them and he'd offered a job at his bar apparently to keep an eye on Sookie through Y/n but he very rarely asked about Sookie. Y/n had accepted the job offer after she'd been let go from her retail job weirdly after she'd declined his first offer but she hadn't given it much thought and accepted Eric's. Y/n sighed as she saw him curl his finger at her, throwing down the rag and approaching the throne, making her way as Vampires and Human's parted for her since this was the third time he'd called her since opening two hours ago. As she walked up she couldn't help how her heart beat faster and the blood rose to her cheeks, she always loved looking at him on the throne. She had thought he was an arrogant prick to begin with and then she'd slowly started to see the appeal until now she took every opportunity to flirt and tease him, he didn't often reciprocate but now she was just annoyed at how much he needed her attention tonight since Ginger was a useless bar tender and the place was packed. Standing in front of him Y/n placed a hand on her hip and raised her eyebrow as he looked her up and down with a smirk. "Look you and i both know you are a hot ass man Eric but you can't keep dragging me up here, what do you want?" Eric smirked as he widened his legs slightly, Y/n's eyes moving to look as she took in a small breath and darted her eyes back to his face, crossing her arms as she waited.

"I need a drink. Come sit." Y/n rolled her eyes, Eric did this a lot, asking her over to see if she'd let him feed off her, when she first had developed her crush she'd almost jumped for joy and done it but that only lasted two nights before she lost interest and tips because of it. it was appealing to sit on his lap, his arm around her and let him feed off her for only a minute but then he wouldn't let her go and she'd spend the whole night in his lap. She had thought this was because he liked her, he didn't do it to anyone else but when she'd told Sookie she'd almost gotten slapped for being stupid so she hadn't done it since.

"Mhm, what type do you want? I can bring you a true blood and that can sit in your lap." Eric hid his scowl easily, when she'd first been hired she'd been like a new puppy happy to do anything he asked and followed him with her eyes, now she hid her affection much better. He's offered her the job after he felt an odd pull to her and having her in the same place most nights and knowing what she was doing made him feel much more in control compared to in the days at her old job when he'd wake up and feel a need go drag her to him.

"O Neg." Eric replied, watching Y/n as she left, a fangtasia top and black ripped jeans covering her body from him, she had always opposed the uniform and said she just wanted a t shirt and jeans if she was going to be working from dusk to dawn. He'd only let her after she shrugged and said she'd quit, after a month he'd even bought her some corsets and tiny shorts with a smirk and demanded she wear it, it had been a good week until another Vampire tried to touch her and Eric had almost ripped him apart. Y/n hadn't seen it, only felt uncomfortable and when she'd turned to make a drink Eric had thrown the Vampire out his club. Y/n sighed and made her way through the crowd, she hated how much she wanted to crawl into his lap and enjoy the shift with him whispering her ear about each human and listen to him talk for hours. Y/n heated up the O neg, making a few more drinks as she kept looking back to Eric who was glaring at a man at the end of the bar, Y/n hearing the microwave ding, placing her drink in front of the man Eric was glaring at. As she went to move away the man grabbed her hand, Y/n's eyes widening as she looked at him, the man smiling as he turned her hand over and pressed a $100 bill into her hand.

"Thank you beautiful, have a good night." Y/n put on a polite smile and mumbled a thanks to him before pulling her hand away, tucking the bill into her jeans and grabbed Eric's drink. Drunk men always seemed to think if they tip they can touch, placing the drink on a tray Y/n made her way to Eric, his eyes still on the man as she moved round to place the drink on his side table, her head next to his. Eric turning his head and grabbing her wrist as she placed down the drink, Y/n looking up at him, faces too close for her heart to handle.

"Do not let customers touch you again." Y/n scowled as she looked towards the Bar where Ginger had a man holding her boobs and taking a shot from between them, looking back at Eric with her eyebrow raised. Putting on a smirk Y/n placed both hands on the side of the throne and leaned forward until their lips were almost centimetres away, biting her lip as she gave him an innocent look.

"Is someone jealous? It's okay you're still my favourite." Eric gave her a small glare as she leaned back with a mischievous grin, grabbing her tray and placing it under her arm as she looked at him, his hand tensing on the throne as he looked away. Y/n shrugging as she walked away, running a hand through her hair as she bent behind the bar placing the tray away then placed her hands on the bar as she waited for more orders. Eric's eyes on her each time she interacted with others, human's all looking her up and down before looking at Ginger in her leather bra and underwear confused. Y/n slamming her hand down with a toothy grin, tilting her head as she waited for the order, the human's always clearing their throat before ordering. Pam placed her hand on the back of the throne as she followed Eric's line of sight, Y/n shaking a cocktail as she poured a beer, looking between the customers as she placed the beer and took the tip, the cocktail finished shaking as she poured it and added a little umbrella.

"Can you just fuck her already and be done with this? You know she wants you." Eric hummed as he waved his hand, Pam rolling her eyes as she left, snapping at a human as they tried to get near her. As the club began to fill more, more desperate humans entered and Eric became increasingly more annoyed as Y/n's pockets filled with tips and both human's and vampires hung around the bar. This was a daily occurrence when she worked, he would never watch the bar when she wasn't there but when she was it felt like the bar was always busy, always filled with pathetic humans wanting to fuck the bartenders. Y/n rolled her eyes as she placed a beer in front of the same man for the fifth time in 30 minutes, Ginger had swapped with Mike who only came to work to pick up drunk girls who wanted to sleep with a vampire and instead left with Mike because he was wearing black eyeliner. Mike grinned at Y/n as he leant against the bar, Y/n rolling her eyes as she smiled at a woman and handed her a beer.

"So Y/n, when are me and you going to finally get rid of this tension?" Y/n ignored him as she grabbed a true blood out the microwave and placed it on a tray, and walked away from the bar towards Eric. Mike scowling as she walked away, Eric smirking as he watched her approach and place the true blood down, collected his old one but not walking away as she looked towards Mike.

"Need some company?" Y/n leaned against the throne, Eric smirking as he looked at her.

"I am thirsty." Y/n rolled her eyes, pushing off the throne and crossing her arms.

"I know i'm irresistible but i'm less of a snack girl and more of a long term commitment girl, so maybe change the approach and you'll get somewhere one day." Eric chuckled as he watched Y/n walk away, watching Mike smirk as she approached making Eric glare as the human flirted with Y/n. Y/n brushing him off as she kept serving customers, Eric looking away as a human approached him on their knees begging for his attention. Y/n watching Eric as the man crawled towards him, reaching his foot to place a kiss before Eric kicked him across the room, Y/n wincing as the man hit the side of the bar and dropped to the floor. Blood dripping from his head before a pretty vampire came up to him, her smile full of fangs as she guided him into the toilets for probably mediocre sex and lots of feeding, Y/n looked back at Eric lost in her thoughts until he met her eyes and she rushed to look away with a blush.

Y/n wiped down the bar as Mike filed out the drunk and lonely customers, picking up a few girls as he hurried them to the exit, Y/n rolling her eyes as he sent her a wink leaving her to do the cleaning up and left the club. Sighing she kept wiping everything down and placing cups away, everyone gone as she put on gloves and walked around picking up anything off the floors of value to put in the lost and found behind the bar. Cleaners would be in soon to deep clean and remove any blood or other bodily fluids Y/n would rather never have to touch, dropping cards, wallets and ID's into the box she shoved it under the bar and pushed her hair out her face. 5am, an hour until the sun would come up, Y/n did her last checks before popping her head into Eric's office as he sat typing away on his phone. Lifting his head and nodding at the chair as Y/n closed the door behind her and dropped into the chair.

"I need you to come in at 9 tonight, Ginger was almost drained so can't open." Y/n brought one leg up to hold as she sucked in a breath worried as she scratched the back of her head.

"I can't make it in for 9, i have plans at 8:30 and won't be available until probably 10." Eric's eyes snapped up as he put down his phone and leaned forward, he knew her schedule, knew when she met up with friends and everything he could know outside of work. She didn't have any plans.

"Cancel them." Y/n tapped her fingers on her leg as she looked down, trying to think of anything other than the truth.

"I can't." Eric leaned back, an unimpressed look on his face as he stared at Y/n.

"Why not?" Y/n let out an annoyed breath as she looked at Eric, fiddling with her nails as she once again dropped her eyes.

"I have a date, i can't cancel on him again." Eric's eyes darkened, his mind focusing 'again', so this hadn't been a spur of the moment date, this was planned. "Too bad. I need you...here." Y/n bit her lip as she shook her head and stood, not wanting to anger Eric as he had a habit of flying off the handle and breaking things which she'd then have to clean up.

"Sorry Eric, i'll try to be in for 10 since i'm not scheduled until 12 to help." Eric wanted to push her against the wall and make her cancel the date, delete his number and forget her existed instead he let her leave as he crushed his phone once the door closed. Pam entering a few moments later with a smirk as she looked at the crushed phone in his hand.

"Plot twist." Pam said as she laughed and pulled a phone out his desk drawer, handing it to Eric as he glared at the door.

Eric woke up angry, the sun barely gone as he stood in the club, the clock just turning 9:30 as he looked around, Y/n had 30 minutes to arrive before he found her and dragged her back. Y/n arrived a few minutes before 10, in a short black dress, heels in her hand as she closed the door. Eric's arms crossed as he watched her pull on her trainers and tie up her hair, pulling a bag from her back as she looked through it and scowled before sighing and chucking it behind the bar. Eric sat on his throne, very few people inside the club except for drunks and barely of age girls who thought it was edgy to come to Fangtasia on their birthday, Y/n grabbed an apron tying it around her waist, the dress low cut and reaching mid thigh as she smiled and began taking orders. The girls all ordering the vampire inspired cocktails and sitting next Eric as they gossiped about him, his eyes only on Y/n as she handed out beers, her lips stained red and eyes glittery as she looked towards him. An hour into her a shift a man in a button down shirt came in, Eric seeing the slight red stain on his lips as he held a small black bag and a wide smile as he walked towards the bar, Y/n's eyes widening as she saw him. Rushing out from the bar, telling Ginger she'd be a moment before grabbing his arm and pushing him into a corner as she looked around.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The man chuckled and held up her bag making Y/n go red as she grabbed it mumbling out an apology, the man pushing a strand of hair behind her ear with a smile whilst Y/n tried not to cringe. She'd only accepted a date with him because Sookie kept badgering her, she'd tried to give him a kiss goodnight on his cheek but he'd turned his head at the last moment and tried to make out with her.

"Thanks but you could have left it with Sookie you didn't need to bring it in." The man gave her a charming smile as he moved to kiss her, Y/n's widening before she squeaked out feeling the air change around her as well as a firm chest on her back and large hand on her waist.

"Who is this Y/n?" Y/n wanted to shrivel up and die as she looked at Eric, his eyes only on the man as he stared down at him.

"James." Y/n responded, James smirking at Eric, Eric still glaring at him as he tried not to sneer, tightening his hand on Y/n's waist as she felt her face heat up.

"You must be the boss who made her come in early and cut our date short." Y/n looked at James like she wanted to punch him, pleading with the gods to not have a fight between Eric and James because James can't keep his damn mouth shut. As Y/n thought she let her eyes move to his lips where he had a slight red stain making her eyes widen and panic set in as she pulled Eric's hand off her waist and moved out from between them with a awkward smile. Looking around for help as she spotted Pam who only smirked and took a drink from her glass, watching the scene unfold.

"Well James it was lovely seeing you again but i have to get back to work, not getting paid to sit around so. Bye, have a nice drive." Y/n tried to pull James away but he was still smirking at Eric, before bringing his thumb to his lip and wiping away the red turning to Y/n.

"Oops, looks like your lipstick stained babe." Y/n clenched her fist as she pushed him towards the exit, James going for another kiss but Y/n quickly turned her cheek and said goodbye. Mumbling curse words under her breath as she walked back towards the bar, Eric standing in her way as she let out a sigh and looked up at him.

"Can i just get back to work and you can deduct the time wasted from my pay cheque please? I should have just come in at 9 and saved myself the damn hassle." Y/n mumbled the last part to herself and moved to pass Eric when he grabbed her and pulled her into the office, Y/n's eyes wide as she panicked. The door closing behind them as he pushed her towards the desk, Y/n stumbling and turning as she began to babble.

"I'm sorry, i made him drop me two streets away and i didn't realise i'd left my purse, trust me i did not want him com-" Y/n let out a squeak as Eric pushed her against the desk kissing her, his hands on her waist as he hoisted her up and stood between her legs, Y/n barely able to catch her breath as he pulled back and nipped at her neck. His hands moving to her thighs as he pushed up her dress and greedily grabbed at the exposed skin.

"You are mine." Y/n whined as he dragged her thighs closer, her hands on his arms as she leaned her head back feeling his teeth scrape along her pulse. "Say it." Eric pulled back to grasp at her chin, Y/n nodding as he moved to graze his lips on hers, his eyes demanding her to speak as she tried to make her brain work.

"I'm yours, fuck Eric, i'm yours now please kiss me." Eric smirked as he kissed her, wanting to remove any part of that man from her, caressing her cheek as he held her tightly to him. Y/n grabbing at his arms as she pulled him closer, submitting to him as she opened her mouth and moaned into the kiss. Eric parting from her and stepping back, Y/n's eyes blown and lips smudged as she pulled down her dress and bit her lip. Eric smirking as he wiped his lips feeling the stain of the lipstick, leaning down to pull her chin and place another kiss on her lips as Y/n melted into him.

"If he tries to talk to you, touch you or looks at you again i will rip his arm off and beat him to death with it." Y/n gulped as she nodded, still in a dazed state after the kiss, Eric taking the chance to kiss her again before pulling her off the desk.

"Now get back to work." Y/n nodded again afraid of her own voice, receiving a light hit to her butt as she walked past, a squeak coming from her as she hurried to bar wiping at her lips as she quickly began serving drinks. Eric sitting on his throne with a smirk, lips tinted red as he watched her, waiting until it got busy to curl his finger as Y/n hurried through the crowd. Her eyes wide as he held out his hand, Y/n's eyes furrowing as she took it before being pulled into his lap, her body quickly manipulated to sit across his legs, his hand on her thigh as he ran it up and down with a smirk.

"Much better." Eric pulled Y/n into a kiss, undoing her apron and throwing it into the crowd before relaxing back and smirking to himself as Y/n tried to climate to her new situation.

[r0-boat]

Royal Schedule

Beegearstation + bonus guests!

The Royal has a busy schedule

Gn!reader( no set pronouns the reader is called Princess once)

Cw: oviposition, slight breeding kink, harem, gangbang

Dawn

Meeting with the Hive Scouts Leader

Bee!Cole

He let out a purr feeling his Royal's fingers comb through his red hair. you are still groggy from waking up this morning so he took it upon himself to wake you up with some "exercise." starting out with some stretches, he folds you in half legs over his shoulders. His twitching cock rutting against your sex.

He completely towers over you. Part of him wants to worship you, yet another part wants to destroy you, cover his dear highness in his cum. Cole smirks at the thought of the Kings raging in jealousy when their Royal comes back, reeking of the Scout leader's Scent.

A snarl rips from his throat as he slams his hips down onto you. Filling you to the brim with one thrust. All the other Scouts are out hunting, so he has plenty of time to fill you up.

Morning

Training with the Royal guard/army General

Bee!Silas

Silas sobs were muffled by the gag in his mouth, his arms tied behind the chair as he's forced to endure your teasing. all the while you sit so pretty in his lap his cock pulsating between your thighs as you play with it with your small human hands. his eyes staring holes in your thighs, longing to feel his cock in between them.

" I wonder what would the hive think if they knew our strongest bee in combat was this pathetic under their monarch?"

You purr; Silas's breathing grows heavier, bucking his hips, his dick now beginning to leak precum, his eyes half-lit with lust, his full attention on you. Your degrading words greatly aroused him.

Noon

Lunch with the Advisor

Bee!Rika.

With a hand on her chin is she leans against the table watching you as you pick at your food.

" why aren't you eating dear I made that especially for you, can't rule Hive on an empty stomach princess~"

You shoot a glare at her before finally stabbing something with your fork. her smile widening before giving you an exaggerated surprised look.

" Woah seems that no one taught you manners, oh well as always I guess it's my job to put you in your place," she hums her finger rolling over a button on the remote in her hand.

Immediately you drop your fork, the toy deep inside you buzzes to life. She bites her lip feeling warmth in her core, "yeah thats it. Just gives in for me, and when you're done being a little brat, come sit in my lap and kiss me."

Afternoon

A check up with the Royal Physician

Zero

You squirm underneath his touch his hands gently kneeding your hips, murmuring to himself. his antennas twitch noticing your sudden movement.

" Are you ticklish right there beloved? Good. It means the royal jelly has been successfully changing you making you more sensitive in the places that matter-,"

he Rambles grabbing and squeezing your thighs your hips. His other hand is cupping your chest before pressing his thumb on your nipple.

" you're so beautiful my love I can never get enough of you, I'll have to schedule another appointment with you soon."

You can help but squeeze your thighs together his hands all over your body pinching, teasing stroking, squeezing, with all four of his hands all over your body you try not to melt in his touch. all the while you can see his cocks slowly protruding out of his slit. Yet Zero himself seems to pay no mind focusing purely on how your body reacts to his touch.

" I would like to, examine your more intimate places if that's okay with you "

Dusk

Free Time

Drones

With one drone occupying your mouth with his while another one kisses you all over, with a third drone's cock nestled in your plush thighs they put you to sit back and relax while they take care of you. They chatter to one another how they would run a bath make you a nice hot cocoa and give you a massage, as they coo about how much they love you.

The third drone between your thighs begs to fill you. tears in his eyes because he's close but wants to cum inside.

Other drones attracted to the sweet scent of their Royal in pleasure, gather murmuring of how lucky these three in particular are, longing for their hands to feel the soft skin of their highness.

Your dear drones never want to pressure you into anything you don't want to do, so they sit and watch, waiting for your back and call. Eagerly waiting to fulfill any requests you give them.

Evening

Nightly Egg routine

Ingo&Emmet

Your face pressed against the mattress as Emmet has a hold of your arms, pulling you back onto him as he pounds you

"Take it, Take it! Take it all!" Emmet growls thrusting is deep as he can inside of you before stilling his hips; you dig your teeth into the sheets trying not to scream and pleasure with each egg Emmet nestles deep inside of you. he runs a hand through your hair leaning down to litter your shoulders with kisses.

But you were far from done, as soon as Emmet slides out of you, a new cock takes its place. Ingo groans as he slowly pushes himself inside of you, eager to fill you up with his own clutch. He has been thinking about this all day, seeing your belly grow around with his eggs, hoping that at least one of them will take.

You're broken whimpers of being too full went straight to his cock, his antenna twitching as he took in your sweet scent.

Ingo folds you in half, legs over his shoulders. he pounds down into you, wanting to reach as deep as possible to stuff you more with his eggs. He practically creams when you squeeze around him, milking him. Your broken sobs are begging for him to fill you. He loses it, roaring in pleasure, slamming down onto you, his abdomen pulsating as he fills you with egg after egg. Daring not to pull out of you until he's completely emptied himself inside of you.

[valyalyon]

4 Chromatic Residue

Previous Post | Next Post

SEA MASTER LIST OR #LYONSEA

DIVIDERS

CW: smut, jealousy, explicit language, natural disaster/fire in a dream. MDNI. 2K Words.

Around noon, four days after her encounter with Lazarus, Ember was smoking pot with Arthur in his apartment. He had closed the shop early for a Tuesday, just wanting to relax with his lover.

They were more than relaxed, though. Ember kissed him on the sofa, her fingertips grazing his chest. Arthur met the kisses with an intensity that helped Ember melt but likewise worried her.

He always seemed to be on the cusp of some type of breakdown.

Ember caught glimpses, in the spurts of energized kisses that he would respond to hers with or in the form of violently breaking a canvas if he hated the art he made.

In typical fashion for Ember, she buried her anxiety by closing her eyes and kissing him in return.

He pulled her clothes off quickly and as something got thrown off, Ember heard it rip.

Arthur tossed the garments aside carelessly and kissed her again, their tongues dancing together. He closed his eyes momentarily, and Ember again… melted into his touch.

She helped him out of his pants as both their bodies burned up.

Ember breathed sharply, looking up at Arthur as he pulled his cock out of his boxers, “I don’t know why I feel this way with you…”

He chuckled and spit on his cock, rubbing the saliva along his tip and shaft.

Arthur’s eyes turned up to Ember’s as he pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, “we’re in love. You love me, I love you, did you forget?”

She moaned softly, but her eyes didn’t leave his honey orbs, “I couldn’t forget…”

He pushed his tip into her pussy, but quickly focused on filling her up. Two inches, four inches, six inches, nine inches… in, out…

Every thrust had Ember crying out, kissing him with her open mouth, “mmm…”

“This is what you need, Calliope… Do you understand that? You need every bit of me. You need to feel me,” nine inches repeatedly puncturing her womb harshly as Arthur’s lips kissed hers when she’d get too loud.

She knew she was stoned, but the sensation of his rhythmic thrusting was dizzying and mind altering in its own right. Her moans escaped easily, her arms draped lightly around his neck, “I understand, Apollo. I need you.”

They didn’t stop having sex until a little after two. Arthur had filled Ember with so much cum and Ember had orgasmed numerous times so the man pulled out to clean up.

Before long, he was sitting in front of a canvas, speaking to his lover as he began to put paint on his brush, “tell me about your previous lovers.”

Somewhere she’s dreamin’ of Caribbean Nica Libres at dusk.

“Why?” Ember had never been asked to describe her former lovers to a lover. What limited information she gave never revealed too much about their appearances, “I don’t want a painting of them.”

“No? That wasn’t why, though. I just want to know. I want to be involved in every part of your life, the past, present and future…” Arthur let out a short laugh as he continued his work.

His eyes returning to the beautiful girl on the sofa. He always seemed like a man of many words, but he would fall silent sometimes when painting.

The way he’d look at Ember felt as if she was being stripped down to her soul. She felt special to him, so she spilled her heart’s secrets to him.

As that day continued, Ember whispered their names, their hair colors, their eye colors, their skin tones, their eye shapes, their lips, their noses, their hands, their heights, the way they looked at her.

He didn’t judge her, he didn’t even get mad at her. He would ask her to continue, he would wait for her when she was overwhelmed. The whole time, Arthur continued to glance at her with eyes full of intense desire.

Ember eventually felt as if she had given him everything she had, and noticed the time, “I’ve talked for so long…”

“I’m glad you did,” Arthur told her, dragging his brush along the painting, “I love listening to you talk, Ember. I want to know everything about your life.”

She blushed as she watched Arthur. The lights in the room left her feeling dizzy and in love with him. He always made her feel seen and she was impressed by how quickly their love seemed to blossom.

When Arthur looked up again, his eyes trailed all along her body and then to her face, a smile crept on his face as his eyes met hers, “Come see… I’m done.”

Ember got up from the couch, her body exposed to him, and she went to his side. Her eyes widened when she saw the painting, “Arthur… I said I didn’t want a painting of them…”

“Is it poorly done?” Arthur asked, looking over the painting himself with a more critical eye, “do they not look like them?”

The painting had Ember center stage to Lazarus, Rocco, Jasper, and Arthur, who all surrounded her or touched her. Each model bore an uncannily realistic image to the men they were supposed to be, so Ember shook her head.

“It’s not poorly done, and it definitely looks like them,” she tried explaining, her voice gentle and encouraging, “you did a really good job, Apollo.”

The man stood up from his stool and kissed Ember, holding her face as he pressed his lips harshly to hers, “I just want you to be proud of me. Look at us, though, I tried to make it obvious that we’re endgame since I’m the only one lying with you.”

He pointed mindlessly at the art, focusing on the two of them in a pass, “that’s why I did it though… I wanted to tell the world you’re mine.”

Ember’s heart skipped a beat when she looked into his honey eyes, but she wasn’t sure what to say to him so she walked back to his bed.

Arthur watched her disappear, and followed her after he had put away his art supplies. He left the canvas in the center of the apartment’s living room, and closed the door to the bedroom when he joined Ember.

She was naked and on her knees on the bed, staring up into his eyes, “Apollo…”

He chuckled as he exhaled, pressing his hands to her cheeks, “Calliope…”

Ember’s fingertips touched his skin, her green eyes stayed focused on his loving eyes, “you did so good today… You should relax.”

“Should I?” Arthur asked with raised eyebrows, his thumbs rubbing along her cheeks with care, “does relaxing involve falling into you?”

“If that’s what it takes,” her voice was a whisper, touching his white shirt, stained with so much paint.

She pulled the shirt off him, but along the way he got a spot of paint on his face. Ember let out a yelp and set the shirt aside, reaching for Arthur’s face, “I’ve got to get that off your cheek.”

“What color is it?” Apollo asked, side-eying that part of his cheek.

“Red,” Ember’s eyes were worried, and she rushed to get him tissue paper.

“Stop! Come here, don’t leave me, Calliope… Don’t do that to me,” he walked quickly to the girl, taking her by the wrist and pulling her close to his chest.

“I need to get toilet paper or something. We need to clean your face,” she looked up at him with confused eyes, noticing immediately that his grip was hurting her, “hey… ow…”

Arthur’s eyes softened and he loosened his grip on her wrists, his hands moving greedily to Ember’s ass, “promise I don’t care about a stained face… I need you… Don’t make me get desperate.”

Her eyes brightened up in the desire. She knew there was a level of abuse, but he loved her so much. Ember couldn’t hide that she adored being obsessed over.

And Arthur would obsess over her religiously. To Apollo, his Calliope was an addiction.

Not being stopped, Arthur let his hands run over her naked body and his lips quickly fell on hers. He lifted her off the ground and placed her back in bed, staring at her with his blonde hair a mess as he approached.

She looked at the red paint spot on his cheek, it was small but it was a new freckle she couldn’t help but focus on. In the bigger picture of who Arthur Marlowe was, that red spot symbolizes a lot.

For now, though, Ember fell into another three or four rounds of sex. Mindless, the two addicted to one another.

This was one of those late nights between Gods so by the time they slept, they had not thought to check the clock, just passed out.

They fell asleep early on the morning of June 19th, that morning becoming an important event in Carcos history.

It is at this point that the reader must be presented with a dream from Ember’s perspective:

I woke up in a cold sweat.

The room was dark, the windows smashed open violently.

The curtains blew aggressively in the Category 5 winds, with the rain shooting in and ruining everything in Arthur’s room.

I was terrified, and I went to shake Arthur awake but his face was red.

His whole face was red. He’s dead, laying in here…

I’m dizzy, nauseated, but the storm just gets worse.

I try to run through it all.

The storm stopped. All was well.

I entered the living room and saw the painting staring at me. Every man on it, their eyes were alive and I was being stared at.

I felt so angry.

How dare you?

I have suffered, you’ve hurt me, you’ve all hurt me! Don’t stare at me like that.

I made my way to the painting and I touched it. My fingers, my skin, my mouth all created fire. I burned the painting to a crisp.

The fire spread from the painting, and began to engulf me. The storms anger returned.

The house became battered and flooded but not before I burned to ash on the floor with the painting.

I’m a wanderess, I’m a one-night stand. Don’t belong to no city…

I forced myself to life. I felt the water touch my burnt edges, I restored myself like a Phoenix would rebirth herself and I swam towards the surface of the ocean.

Out of the ashes of the painting, Lazarus swam after me and for a moment we floated weightlessly.

I wondered to myself if I’d ever find a Phoenix again, and if I could really be with anyone other than him…

He reached out to touch me, but I wished that the ocean would put tremendous space between us to not make me yearn for him anymore.

So it did. I cried but waved to him, then returned to the surface. When I breathed, I was staring at a coastal beach.

I pulled myself together, trying to swim to safety but… something went terribly wrong.

Again, I was in a hurricane but this time it sounded like help was coming. The sound was overwhelming, but I could hear fire trucks loudly screaming in the distance.

Ambulances, police cars… The sounds are really loud and they only get louder. Fire alarms, too. They blare obnoxiously… Who is screaming?

Where are the screams coming from?

The water feels as if it wants to come over my head, the storm is intense but I keep holding my breath. Then…

Everything gets even louder, with the sound of police now including them talking over a speakerphone.

It was around then I awoke.

SO EXCITED FOR EVERYONE TO SEE WHAT'S NEXT AHHH CAN'T WAIT OMGEEEE

SONG REFERENCES

Nica Libres At Dusk by Ben Howard

Hurricane by Halsey

[brighttears]

The Day the Music Died

Joel Miller x f!reader

no physical description

summary: Joel and Ellie have made it to Jackson and are getting used to not being so sacred all the time. Someone has figured out a way to get some music going and there's a dance at the Tipsy Bison.

warnings: (light) drinking, mentions of death

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i have never posted fan fiction anywhere so bear with me. feedback appreciated

—

Ellie walked towards the Tipsy Bison, attracted by the unfamiliar sounds coming from inside. She knew music of course, but not what she heard from the bar, and there was something else–laughter, chatter; the sound of joy. The windows glowed a flickering gold, standing out against the quiet, dusk-gray streets. 

She slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside. The bar was packed, she thought it had to be at least most of the people in Jackson. Maria had stopped by earlier to let her know that there was going to be a dance at the bar. Ellie was immediately reluctant. 

“Dancing…?” She replied, raising her eyebrows at Maria. 

“Yeah, Jonathan found a way to get some music on. Used to work at RadioShack.” she chuckled, “I almost forgot what it sounded like. Come on. It’ll be fun.” She smiled.

Ellie sighed, not moving from her perch on the window bay. “Okay... maybe later. Maybe.” 

Maria paused. “Alright. Whenever you're ready, come on down.”

She got bored. She couldn't dance and she didn't want to, but curiosity was killing her, and if Joel was on the dancefloor, she’d never forgive herself if she missed it.

The atmosphere made Ellie stop in the doorway, eyes wide. She spotted Maria standing next to Tommy by the bar, facing the floor which had been cleared of tables and chairs, smiling wide and clapping along to the song filling the air.

She slowly made her way towards them and looked out on the floor, covered in dancing pairs; couples, kids and parents, anyone and everyone. When Maria noticed her come up next to her, she pointed to one couple in particular and a grin bloomed on Ellie’s face. 

It was Joel and y/n. 

This was a special sight—Joel was fucking dancing. 

Ellie laughed as she watched, the sound covered up by the music, chatter, laughter, and feet tapping the wood floor.

They moved like magnets, and Joel’s eyes focused on y/n in a way Ellie had never seen. It touched something in her and she realized that it reminded her of the way she'd looked at Riley. 

Joel had y/n in his arms, one hand holding hers in the air and the other on her waist while she held onto his shoulder. The floor moved like waves, couples in sync. 

The song, Ellie had never heard, but she liked it, even though the lyrics were weird. 

Did you write the book of love

And do you have faith in God above

If the bible tells you so?

Joel was smiling, laughing, his eyes wrinkling at the edges in a way that Ellie didn't know they could. 

They were swinging around the dancefloor, doing footwork that Ellie knew was a thing but had never seen. A waltz?

“I knew you wouldn't be able to resist this.” Maria said, smiling wide, just like everybody else, before Tommy swept her up and onto the dancefloor.

I started singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good ol' boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye

Singin' "this'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die"

Ellie felt a disconnect as she watched. This song she’d never heard that everyone else seemed to know by heart, this dance that came so naturally, and Joel so focused on someone else.

She didn't expect the jealousy that came over her ever since they got to Jackson and Joel started spending time with his brother, away from her. 

She loved seeing him so happy, she really did, but she felt a twinge inside of her. 

This was a glimpse into a world she'd missed out on. 

She glanced behind her and hopped up onto a stool at the bar. She glanced behind her again and then looked around her. Everyone was plenty distracted, so Ellie grabbed a bottle and a glass from behind the bar, poured herself some whisky, spilling a little, and quickly downed it. Her face turned up and she pounded her chest and coughed. “Still gross. I don’t know why I keep trying."

Ellie couldn’t help but keep her eyes Joel and y/n. This was a brand new side of him. He looked so vulnerable; it was something about his eyes, the way they looked into y/n’s. She looked back into his just the same. 

The floor slowed as the music did.

And in the streets, the children screamed

The lovers cried and the poets dreamed

But not a word was spoken

The church bells all were broken

The two had slowed, tightened, locked into each other.

Joel’s smile had faded, he looked more serious, but his face remained relaxed. She barely recognized the man she saw on the floor, so close to someone, so relaxed. They held each other like it was what they were made to do. 

And the three men I admire the most

The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost

They caught the last train for the coast 

The day the music died

They slowed to almost stillness. Joel’s brow was furrowed slightly, his mouth still so relaxed, his eyes still focused on y/n. He looked raw and almost tragic. Ellie thought she should look away, it felt like such a private moment, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. She was fascinated with this side of Joel. 

Ellie thought the song was over, but then what sounded like everyone in the building started singing,

Bye-bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good ol’ boys were drinking whisky and rye

Singin’ “this’ll be the day that I diiieeee”

With the last strum of guitar, the room broke out in shouts and applause. Ellie was a little startled by the volume, she had never been in a room with so many people being so loud. She reflexively tightened up, ready to run from the inevitable threat of infected, but looking out to the floor filled with such warm, carefree joy, seeing how safe they all felt, she relaxed. She let herself enjoy the moment. 

As another song started playing, Joel and y/n broke and laughed. Ellie felt a mystery pang in her chest as she watched Joel laughing like that. 

They drifted over to the bar, reluctantly releasing their hands but acting like it was nothing. Ellie filled her cup again with whiskey and slid down next to Joel. 

“Wow, that was really somethin’,” she smirked and offered the glass to Joel. He took it, hesitated, and set the glass down on the bar. 

“Didn’t think you were gonna come.” he said, unable to wipe the smile off of his face.

“Yeah, not really my scene. But I never would have forgiven myself if I missed out on you… dancing.”

Joel shook his head and chuckled. 

“Are you drunk…?” Ellie asked. 

Joel kept his eyes to the floor with a smile still glued on his lips. “Nope. Just happy.”

Ellie didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Soooo… can I drink that?”

“Drink what?” y/n interjected, leaning past Joel, also smiling wildly at Ellie. She looked down at the glass of whiskey, “No fucking way.” Ellie started to protest, but y/n stopped her, “You don’t want fucking whiskey. I’ll make you something way better.”

Ellie grinned in surprise as y/n slid behind the bar and started mixing her a drink.

Y/n set down a glass of water that sparkled and popped, which to Ellie looked like witch magic, poured in something red, and topped it with the brightest cherry Ellie had ever seen. She spun back behind her and grabbed a bottle, spun back to Ellie, set the bottle down and smirked at her. She raised her eyebrows up and down and poured a shot of vodka into the drink, then picked up the glass and set it down in front of Ellie. Ellie grinned in surprise as she picked up the glass. She took a long sip, grimacing only a little and smiled wide at y/n.

“That’s all she’s gettin’ though. I don’t want you pukin’ everywhere.” Joel looked at y/n and then at Ellie, “…Whad'ya think?” 

“Definitely better than that other shit. Why are you drinking that all the time when you can have this?”

“Cause I’m an adult… adults have different tastes. Whisky tastes like that so 14 year olds won’t drink it. And if that was straight vodka, you’d spit it right back up. That grenadine shit is just sugar. ‘Course you like it.”

“Grenadine and maraschino cherries are also much harder to come by these days. Moonshine tastes like shit but it’s more apocalypse friendly.” Added y/n.  

Maria and Tommy appeared in front of them “Is that alcohol?” Maria asked, disapprovingly. “It’s a Shirley Temple with just a shot of vodka. She’ll get a buzz, at best.” Y/n reassured her. 

“Oh, come on, I should be able to get drunk. There’s no way I could ever get away with it out there,” Ellie motioned, meaning outside the walls of Jackson, “besides, I’ll have all of you to protect me from… whatever bad stuff happens when people get drunk.”

Maria giggled, “‘Whatever bad stuff happens when people get drunk?’”

“YEAH, I don’t fuckin’ know, if nothing bad happens why is everyone so fucking scared of me drinking? They told us we’d get, like, thrown out onto the street if they caught us drinking at FEDRA school. What’s the big deal?”

“Trust me, Ellie, you’re not missing out on much. It’s fun for a minute until you start throwing up, taking off all your clothes and peeing on the floor.” Y/n told her.

“What?” Joel and then everyone else broke out in laughter, except for y/n, who threw her hands up.

Tommy said, “Oh, shut up Joel, like you haven’t done shit like that. You know, I had to pick him up from a bar once, needed three guys to get him up and into the car. Fuckin’ droolin’ and cryin’ all over me. Felt like tryna get a newborn to bed.” They all laughed hard.

“Fuck off, Tommy. Like--like you’re one to talk! Can’t tell ya how many times I had to get this sonabitch outta jail cause he drank too much and started swingin’ at anyone in a five foot radius.” 

“Ok, ok, jeez, I’ll stick to the grenadine.” 

Another song started over the speakers and y/n gasped, “I LOVE this song, someone please come dance with me.” 

The bar had emptied a couple hours later. Y/n wouldn’t leave until she got Ellie to dance with her and Maria. After a couple songs, Maria decided that’s all she could handle at a good few months pregnant, so she, Ellie, and y/n all left together. Joel and Tommy had stayed to clean up and close down. 

They talked at the bar for a while after everyone had gone.

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious, sittin’ in front of this open bar all night.” Tommy laughed. Joel chuckled and looked down at his hands. 

“Me too, honestly. I guess I didn’t have a reason to drink tonight. I was… I had fun.” He said, turning to his brother with a smile. “You know, I don’t remember the last time I said that.” 

Tommy just looked at him, smiling. Then he said, “You know, it was weird when I got here to Jackson. It almost… disturbed me, to see people happy like that. Kids laughin’. So fuckin’ young, not a care in the world. It felt wrong.” He shook his head. “All these years… without all that. Sure, we had laughs here and there. And it’s not like this place is paradise; it took years for them to get it secure, safe enough, for people to be able to laugh like that." He paused. "I’m real glad you made it here, Joel.” 

“Me too. Worth the journey.”

“You know, I haven’t seen you look like you did tonight in… hell, over 20 years.” Tommy sighed, trying to read Joel’s eyes, which were cast back down to his hands.

There were a few beats of silence before Joel spoke.

“Did I ever tell you the first time I… Ellie and I met her?”

“No.”

Joel sighed and looked up. 

“Few months before we got here. It was startin’ to get cold. Ellie and I found some old motel to hole up in, sleep for a night, see if we could find anythin’. We were low on food. I thought I checked every room but, fuck me, I was tired. It’d been days… well, the next day we looked around some, as soon as we found somethin’ we ate. We were just fuckin’ hungry. I was startin’ to get scared we were gonna…” Joel shook his head. “We got lucky. I got fuckin’ lucky. I didn’t hear her until she cocked her gun. Standin’ in the doorway with a magnum pointed right at me. She had a dog, too. Told us she wasn’t gonna hurt us, that she’d been watchin’ us since we got there, that she knows we’re out of food, and then she threw a can of fucking Campbell’s at me.” They chuckled. “I asked her later why she did that. She said it was the kid. And she said she saw somethin’ 'bout me,” He furrowed his brow. “She said she knows I would’ve shot her if I wanted to, but… well, I didn’t, obviously.” He shifted in his seat and took a long pause. “She said she was just sorta wanderin’, she had a group–all girls–but they ran into some trouble in the city and it was just her and the dog left. Lefty, was the dog’s name, cause he had his left ear gone, they didn't know how. They just found him and took him in, I guess. Anyway. She found the motel a couple days before we got there and looted it, found food, not much else. Bunch of fuckin’ money,” Joel chuckled, “Amazing how fuckin’ useless it is now. Just paper. So she had all this food and she saw us, hadn’t seen a kid in a long time, she said. And she said… she said I had kind eyes.” 

Tommy laughed, “I think she’s the only fuckin’ person that would say that about you.”

“I know!” Joel laughed. “Anyway. She shared her supplies with us, we stayed at the motel a day or two. I told her I was going to find my brother. I don’t know why the fuck I told her that. I’d known her for one goddamn day. I didn’t tell her about Ellie yet, though. Told her she was someone else’s kid that I’d promised I’d take care of. Not that far from the truth. So she was with us for a couple weeks, we ran into some trouble, got separated. Her dog got shot. I figured she was dead, figured I’d never see her again. But I spotted her at the stables the second day we were here.” Joel smiled. 

Tommy waited for more. “That’s it?”

“Whad’ya mean ‘that's it’?”

“Ok, ok. If that’s all you wanna say about it.” “What? That's it! I asked if you knew how we met her.”

“Ok, ok. That does answer some questions, though. I was surprised you started takin’ to someone as fast as you did with her. But I get it. What I wanna know, though, is what got you dancin’ with her like that?” Joel smiled and shook his head. 

“Joel,” Tommy waited until he looked at him. “I gotta say… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at anyone like that. Not even Sarah’s mom.” 

Joel cleared his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.” Tommy said quickly. 

“No, it’s alright.” He took a long breath and a smile started creeping up on his face. He looked down, chuckled, shook his head, and then it faded. “Tommy… it’s so fuckin’ scary… caring about someone, now. That’s the thing I’m most scared of. I didn’t want to take Ellie when Marlene asked us to. Tess made that decision. And then she died, and she made me promise to keep going with her… Tommy, it scares me so much sometimes that I can’t breathe. But you can’t just turn that off, caring about someone. I don’t know, Tommy. You’re right. I… I’ve never felt like this about anyone else before. Horrible, horrible fuckin’ timing. But… and I… I hate myself for even thinkin’ this, I know it’s wrong, but…” He shook his head. “I just… I don’t know if I would have met her if… the world hadn’t fallen apart, you know? It’s not like I’m grateful for it, fuck no. But…” he shook his head again.

“Hey,” Tommy interjected, “I met Maria 20 years into the world falling apart. Hell, I’m havin’ a fuckin’ kid with her. I get it.” “Tommy I… I just can’t fuckin’ help it. She’s just got this hold on me. And now that I’ve lost her and I got her back, I can’t imagine… I just don’t ever want to lose her again. I just never want to be without her.” Joel looked his brother in the eyes, brow furrowed. Tommy pursed his lips and nodded. 

They both looked back down after a moment. Then Joel reached over the bar, poured himself a shot of whiskey, threw it back, and said “Alright. It’s late.”

“Yeah, we better close up. We should do this again though, don’t ya think?”

“Yeah. I missed music.”

[shamanfox]

In sacrosanct meadows on lush green hillside

courtyards of

evergreen and lily white snow, sits

The Jester

holding cards

She waits there with a sheepish grin. Her wild eyes staring from lunacy beyond the grave of his long dead burned out mind.

Nothing

was there

rattling through his skull like a rats cage

set on fire

fleeing rodents wrapped up in disguise of "Ideas"

That thunk himself brilliant and yet

SAID he was humble which meant borrowing his neighbors coat to drape over mud holes waiting for the first fool to partake of the plastic.

The slipknot goat-head wheel turner

could have been but a single shot

transfixed into a photograph hung center in

The Museum Of Cretin.

Oh …shake the haze from the glare. There are no cards to read here, realize now as they are

just four blank mirrors void of a decent worthy expression.

Only an echo from years previous this short track roller coaster is out to lunch.

Permanently imitating chatty Kathy in a make-believe world.

….

Whilst the Thief laughed, merriment began to rise and bloom in iridescent array that "smoke screened eyelids"*

from ever knowing the secret

of unlocking beauty’s door…

When the moon made an appearance from the dusk of a cloud

barren soldiers were fighting in the cosmic dust

of infinite spiral layers

of possibilities. Love was

at the door step

opening gates

so inviting. This is the part of the story

Wise fear to tread…

Lets "talk" about love shall we?

Here, take my hand I will guide you now through the hallways of truth.

Love is always an open door speaking songs of forlorn angels and battle scars of internal injustice. It screams out as though it was not a biological drug life induced

that heart of being…

not just this falsely believing.

I myself am Wrapped up in nothing

short of insanity, sleepless, penny brained, every word:

"Yes" as in "Yes my Love Yes!"

mind babbling beggar... using only first dimensional communication.

A day spent in concrete stoic

Are now failing words

spilled in marbles

at loves door.

No now now baby,

you will never shake

this off.

No not the

real deal.

Your going to change

rid anything left insulting your

soul

your gonna wash your face

and look square

in the eyes. Your gonna smile now

"goddamit"

Smile.

Show me baby what loves all about.

Did you think it was a white picket?

Now.

holy un-roll all the fears your momma and your poppa force fed.

Stop gagging on the stew passed around this old cross for generations

You really think you know what loves all about?

Is it about jealousy

for the testosterone forgiven

from lily white to crimson dilate

clothes from every other sister

as she passed by.

Do you love em honey when every drool felt like nails into the coffin of self esteem.

Love feel safe like the choking flavor of chapstick

and gum

strangle-holding

dignity on a silver plated fork three-prongs that I swear looks just like a bird.

A fuck you

flip

this

switch bird.

a book now …

Like chapter one "first verse same as the first"

where slave driver poet lords bang minds door with words hung across arms

whilst fur is trading in dark caves of fog

Where old gathers together hand and hand to die.

or Bleed

sometimes you take a break to let it bleed.

Love is ruthless a two edged sword

for polarities balances a spinning pirouette effortlessly.

Love has a few freckles

sunspots on oceans of sea green, evergreen in redwood forests

where it flourishes a dream within this dream.

A voice always a little above or below the wave

where a dance-floor joyously

announces

heart & soul

though the train finally came home to stay…

Love walks with

or a step ahead for it is always there

freely

When you finally come home stay

love walked with you all the way

[lady-de-mon-coeur]

Ladrien fic recs list part 2

part 1

Lucky Love by @lea-panthera

Rated T. 2,774 words. Angst.

Summary: Adrien wants to finally be with his lady.

Mr Brightside by @ariadsishereagain

Words: 2,686. Angst, fluff.

Summary: Chat Noir has to deal with his jealousy watching his lady flirt with Flairmidable.

But you'll never be alone, I'll be with you from dusk 'til dawn by @xhanisai

Summary: "Ladybug," Oh no, he was using her full name. "Why do you always hold back with your feelings for me?"

The heroine wanted a hole to swallow her up right there and then, having half expected him to get straight to the point but she was never prepared for this amount of bluntness. She should've known. She should've known because of how smart and perceptive he is. She should've known because he knows her so damn well, it's as if her heart and soul are bare within his eyes.

She should've fucking known that he'd catch on that she's just as madly in love with him too.

"Because I don't deserve you,"

The biggest fans by @ariadsishereagain

Words: 2,310.

Summary: Marinette is sick and upset for a reason. Adrien wants to make her happy again. What better way to cheer her up other than to meet Paris’ two superheroes! Except for some reason, Ladybug is not down to meet Marinette. Adrien’s left to think that the two best girls in his life hate each other.

The girl under the mask by @purrincess-chat

Rated T. Words: 15,356. Fluff

Summary: After his father is attacked by an evil akuma, Adrien can't get his lady out of his head when she pays him a brief visit to ensure his safety. He entreats her to visit more often, and it sparks the beginning of a beautifully awkward relationship as Adrien discovers that the girl under the mask is just as amazing as he had hoped.

Love isn't always on time by @baconwaffle2016

Rated T. Words: 3,190.

Summary: A reimagining of how Adrien discovers Ladybug’s identity in “Chat Blanc,” as told through video games, shy and awkward smiles, and so much that is unspoken.

A shoulder to lean on by @passionfruitbowls

Rated T. Words: 1,468. Angst.

Summary: After the shocking discovery of Hawkmoth’s true identity, only one person can offer Adrien the support he needs.

Darkest before dawn by @rosie-b

Rated T. Words: 6,847. Angst.

Summary: Adrien Agreste has not been having a good day. Alone in the park after being thrown in the trash by Ladybug, he is in danger of being akumatized. In canon, Gabriel decides to be a decent father and not akumatize him. But what if he’d made a different choice?

Hold me close by @ck2k18

Rated T. Words: 1,496. Fluff.

Summary: Alya has a plan to get Marinette and Adrien together, and the result is Adrien is spending a lot more time in Ladybugs arms. But what happens when an akuma shatters the illusion?

[imhereformysciencefriends]

@mcyt-yuri-week Day 2: AU

This work is explicit! Read on AO3 here.

Meet me down by the river, Bring the pumpkin seeds, the autumn stone, Meet me down by the river, Bring the cherry flowers, the breath of spring, Meet me down by the river, Bring summer’s fire, winter’s wet cold, Meet me down by the river, Bring your candlelight, and your voice to sing.

Gem sang softly to herself as she approached the designated place, candlelight flickering across her face from where she held the slowly melting wax in one hand, big baskets slung over her shoulder of her other arm and flowers braided all throughout her hair.

At the river’s bank stood Lizzie, pumpkins growing hilter skilter all around her, her massive pumpkin-turned-house behind her and nestled in the big, broad leaves. Gem once again felt a pang of jealousy: she could never grow pumpkins that big. But Lizzie had been doing this witch stuff a bit longer than Gem, and every witch had her strengths and weaknesses—er, opportunities for growth!

In this case literally.

“Gem!” Lizzie greeted, her plain blue robe fastened loosely around the waist, nothing but that and her hat and her cheerful attitude adorning her.

“See, you were smart. You just built on the river. You don’t have to hike ten billion miles.”

Lizzie chuckled, gathering her hair behind her before letting it fall loose. Not much point trying to put it up now, since she’d just be letting it back down in a minute anyway.

“But if you didn’t live up on the mountainside, who’d bring me the flowers?” she asked with a grin and grabby hands, and Gem giggled as she handed ‘em over. Beautiful pink blossoms, collected by the hundred.

Gem stretched her arms above her head, hardly sore from carrying the baskets of flowers but happy to hold her arms at something other than a ninety degree angle for the first time in a few hours. Lizzie got to work scattering the blossoms amongst the candles circling the campfire. Above the campfire, low flames and lower heat, hung the “stewpot,” a hollowed out pumpkin with potatoes and wild hare simmering inside (and knowing Lizzie, it had been simmering for hours already). Gem set her own candle amongst the other lights, scattered some flowers of her own until there was a “walkpath” of pink and green encircling the inner candles, but encircled by the outer. Gem nudged one of the candles in the outer ring, wanting it just a touch further from the blossoms they spread out.

“Alright!” Lizzie said, hands on her hips and feet stanced wide, proudly surveying the area. “That about does it, I think! Ready for dinner?”

“Just us tonight?” Gem asked. Usually they had at least a couple guests, novice witches or curious friends wanting to see if the rumors were true themselves.

“Just us! I might’ve made too much stew, now that you mention it.”

“Eh, anything leftover’ll soak into the ashes afterwards,” Gem waved off, taking a seat at the edge of the fire and using half of the “lid” of the stewpot to ladle out some stew and bring it to her lips. Lizzie took the other half and did the same, the two enjoying companionable silence and anticipation together. The potatoes and hare were really just to have something in their bellies before the event started, they weren’t important the way the pumpkin was important.

Lizzie finished first, and waited for Gem to have her fill—but not too full—before the pair stood, stretching lightly. The final dregs of dusk finally slipped away, casting them all in the cold blanketing darkness of night, but the candles were numerous enough that neither worried about mobs. Not that mobs tended to get too close, anyway, when such magics were stirring.

“Well come on then,” Lizzie urged, tugging loose the cloth belt around her waist and letting her blue robe drop to the cool earth, fall’s breeze prickling her skin.

“Excuse you! Not all of us can just wander out here from across our front yard! I had to dress for mountain climbing you know,” Gem said, peeling off her own layers. Her bare toes curled against the cool grass and flower petals, goosebumps breaking out with each layer she removed. She’d appreciate the cold in a minute, but right now forcing the layers off was nearly unbearable.

“I could help?” Lizzie offered with a waggling of eyebrows and a cat’s grin, and Gem stuck her tongue out.

“You’ll help me plenty later,” she said as she undid her pants and yanked both sturdy denim and lacy underwear down and off her. She kicked her pantleg off her ankle with a huff, then entered the candlelight opposite Lizzie, the campfire crackling lazily between them, flower petals soft beneath her feet.

”Meet me down by the river…” Gem started, her voice hitting high, clear notes. Around them, Autumn brushed against their skins, the hairs on their arms and the backs of their necks prickling.

Lizzie’s voice joined with Gem’s, and the two started walking clockwise along the floral path, taking their time to start. Against their ears, both could hear the far off giggling of Spring.

The fire, untouched by human hands, began to rise, no additional kindling added but its flames burning higher and hotter, so that the pumpkin in its middle was obscured. Cold pressed in like hands against a window pane, outside the outer candles’ ring, but did not seep in any farther into the fire’s glow.

The first song finished, then the fun really began.

They forfeited walking, and began to dance.

Naked and wild, they danced, and they sang, Gem’s red hair blazing in the firelight, Lizzie’s pale skin gleaming in the moon. Gem’s voice was louder, but Lizzie’s less prone to stumbling over half-forgotten words, carrying when Gem’s memory faltered.

They both began to sweat, despite Autumn’s presence, dancing and twirling and stomping and waving their arms about wildly, no drumbeat except their feet upon the earth, no strings except the chords of their voices. Wild, bold, joyous, the witches sang and danced under the full moon and like water into a skein they felt the magic join them, enter them. Wild as the hare they caught and ate, wild as the seasons in their capricious natures, wild as the moon that loved the ocean and the sun that loved the moon, wild as magic had always been, would always be.

Gem felt it pool inside her, cold as ice water but not chilling her. Hot as a match but not burning. It glinted and glistened and ran and laughed and sang with them. Oh, how the magic sings. Voiceless and louder than thunder, the magic eclipsed the mortal voices of the witches that summoned it hither, and Gem never could tell at this point in the dance if her mouth was open because she was still singing or because that was necessary for how hard she was breathing.

Half-mindless with euphoria and adrenaline, the dance turned into a chase. Still wild, still rhythmic, still singing, Gem and Lizzie now lept like springing deer, pursuing one another as animals in flight.

Lizzie was smaller, and dexterous, but Gem was a historically sore loser, with physical aptitude to match. Lizzie tried to chase, at first, and then attempted to outrun, but her lithe little legs were no match for Gem on a hunt, and soon her freckled arms tangled around pale skin, rushing her so the two collapsed onto the ground. A rush of petals exploded around them at the force of their descent, and Gem grinned, eyes half-glazed over with the song and dance and base instincts of the hunt. Lizzie giggled up, perhaps even more moon-drunk than Gem, and Gem bent to lay claim to her prize.

Lizzie moaned into her mouth, arching up off the pretty pink petals, her pretty pink hair splayed out, messy and askew, upon the blooms. Gem caressed her body with the wild fervor of a witch in dance, and Lizzie gave as good as she got, tangling fingers in wild red hair and hiking her spread legs up over Gem’s thighs and hips.

The punishment of ‘losing’ the chase was, of course, that Lizzie was forced to lay there and take it as Gem sank her mouth to Lizzie’s lower lips and sucked like a drowned man gasping for air. That Gem won the hunt and so could touch and grope and surge and act while Lizzie was subjected to her whims. The punishment for ‘winning’ was, of course, that even as Gem squeezed palmfuls of soft flesh and thrust her tongue into her folds, Gem’s own cunt hung wet and dripping and exposed and untouched.

Well, until she was finished with Lizzie, at least, the witch’s howls of pleasure crescendoing in the magic as a wolf’s to the moon. Gem gave her shaking body not a moment of reprieve, crawling up with little pink petals sticking to her sweat damp skin. The moment she was able, she lowered herself to Lizzie’s panting mouth, fingers parting her own folds, orange bush wiry against her too-sensitive skin. Everything was too much, right then, magic pooled in her and the song resounding in her skull, but neither was it enough.

Lizzie took to her task enthusiastically, Gem gasping and rocking her hips down on her face. Lizzie’s arms came up to grasp around Gem’s thighs, and Gem switched to burying her fingers in pink hair, wild with abandon and careless of Lizzie’s comfort. This far into the lust-blind haze of magic and adrenaline, neither would feel it if either of them even was in any pain. Even moon-drunk, Lizzie knew how to use her tongue, and it wasn’t long before Gem was wailing and gasping as well, back arched in the candlelight and silver of the moon.

As her paroxysm crashed over her, so too did the magic reach its climax within her. She could feel it imbuing her, not just filling her but permeating her every inch, from the dips of her ankles up the lengths of her legs, to the peaks of her nipples and the flush in her cheeks. All throughout her the magic sank, and only then, with both their bodies fully penetrated, did the song finally reach its end.

Gem and Lizzie collapsed limply into the flower petals, breathing raggedly and neither able to focus their gazes. Gem fumbled blindly outwards, her hand reaching Lizzie’s by sheer luck, and the two clasped as their bodies desperately sucked in air.

Awareness returned slowly. The candles were all burned low, wax melted off whatever shallow dishes they were set in, or sometimes just flowing out directly into the grass. The fire was once again low and flickering. Gem was naked and sweaty and cold.

She groaned. She sat up slowly, feeling out her muscles carefully. Didn’t seem like she’d pulled anything.

“Lizzie, get up or I’m gonna eat the whole thing myself,” she muttered, stretching slowly from side to side, shivering now that she was aware of it.

Lizzie gave a groan of her own. “Not if I get there first you won’t.”

The two staggered to their feet like fumbling fawns and descended upon what remained of the stewpot, its outside blackened and charred to a crisp from the ritual but the insides soft and gooey and perfect. They ate with their hands, shoveling soft pumpkin and leftover stew into their mouths with a fevered hunger that lingered from the dance, each heedless of how it smeared around their mouths and cheeks and noses, each up to their elbows in pumpkin guts and blackened ash.

Only once the pumpkin was entirely demolished did their senses return to them, genuinely in full.

“Okay, I know it’s traditional to wash off in the river, but it is too cold for that! Lizzie, I’m stealing your shower first.”

“It’s my shower!” she whined.

“Well I won, so there!”

Cleaned up and redressed, the two collapsed into Lizzie’s bed together, exhaustion hitting them along with the late hour.

“Mhnmhng, that should… probably last us a few months, don’t you think?” Gem mumbled as they laid together in the dark.

“Maybe. I kind of have some things I want to try out that are heavy on the magic cost, so I might need to insist on doing it again next full moon.”

“You’re runnin’ me through the wringer here Lizzie,” Gem deadpanned, earning a small giggle from her companion.

“Oh, you love it.”

Gem huffed, and in lieu of answering merely snuggled Lizzie closer.

[autumntouched]

I feel so bad that it’s been forever since I’ve written something for you all, so here’s a little more of that Every Time It Comes Around WIP:

After Jake leaves Phoenix in the med bay on the carrier, they don’t talk about the kiss. In fact, they barely talk at all in between packing up their seabags and boarding their flight home with the rest of the team. There are red net seats on their flight off the carrier, and Jake struggles to bite back a smile when Phoenix drops down next to him. It’s close enough quarters that his thigh can touch hers without anyone looking twice. She startles at the contact, jaw tightening to hold in either a gasp or an expletive.

Fanboy sits down on his other side, but fortunately, he’s asleep before they’ve reached full altitude. Phoenix closes her eyes and leans her head back against the woven seat. A tickle of hope low in his stomach waits for her to slump onto his shoulder so he can feel the weight of her against him. But she doesn’t give an inch, just like always. When she pulls her arms in and crosses them over her chest, he can feel the snuff of hope in his abdomen and starts to think maybe the med bay really was a dream.

They switch planes in Germany, this time their seats like those of a commercial airline. He’s so sure they’ll sit together again that he doesn’t think to count the pilots and wizzos ahead of them, so his heart sinks when Phoenix hesitates between the open seat beside Bob and the empty ones across the aisle and chooses Bob.

She glances at him, a plea of apology in her eyes when he has to shuffle into the window seat while Fanboy teases him for suddenly turning slow. It’s Bob she finally falls asleep on, and Jake’s teeth hurt from clenching them with jealousy. It’s not Fanboy’s fault Phoenix bailed on him, but Jake can’t muster the better part of himself to take him up on conversation. He’d overheard Bob tell Phoenix that Fanboy felt bad about not getting the laser lined up in time, even though Rooster had still been able to pull off the drop. Knowing Phoenix would have something to say if he made Fanboy feel worse, Jake makes up an excuse about being tired and has to pretend he’s asleep instead of getting a drink off the beverage cart.

They land at North Island in the fresh darkness of dusk, and Jake hurriedly slings his bag over his shoulder. It’s been only a few days since they left, but somehow it feels like their training was a lifetime ago. One Jake wouldn’t mind leaving behind so much if it weren’t starting to feel like Phoenix has decided to ignore him. She’s ahead of him on the tarmac, in step with Payback, Fanboy, and Rooster.

Jake’s pride flares up, holding him back from catching up to her. Two can play this game. A hand falls on his shoulder, and he looks over to see Bob considering him with bemusement. Phoenix’s backseater glances around. In the shuffle for their bags and the promise of a real shower, no one’s paying them much attention.

“Phoenix told me to tell you she’s heading back to the Navy Lodge.”

No shit. They are all heading back there. Bob’s expression shifts, his mouth curling with a smirk. “Of all people, wouldn’t have expected you to be so obvious.”

Jake stops mid-eyeroll. “Obvious about what?”

Bob glances around and leans in. “About wanting to sleep with a fellow officer.”

The words jam a rod down Jake’s back. Shit.

[inkysqueed]

I'd like to know more about Miraina. (Is this question too broad?)

And I hope you feel better soon. 🥣💐

Thank you! It's not too broad~

I appreciate the chance to talk about my sometimes hero of kvatch 😁

...Miraina Rusonius, oldest child of Duvia and Nolus Rusonius and older sister of one brother. She was born in Sun's Dusk on the seventeenth day. Which of course puts her under the Atronach. This would cause her grief in her younger years as her brother dazzled people with his magical prowess that she seemingly lacked.

However, whenever she was able to use spells-- she tended to favor Restoration because of all the farm work she and her brother did. If one of them got hurt and she had magicka, Miraina would be there with a spell to heal.

Despite her jealousy, Miraina loves her little brother and sometimes wanders close to Skingrad to try and hear about how he's doing. (This behavior reaches a fever pitch post-Crisis when Martin is gone.)

She puts on such a tough face (because she "has to") but even simple kindnesses catch her off-guard; this is why she gets so protective of Martin (and takes his loss as her brother in arms so hard) and why (in my upcoming divergent canon fics) she falls for a certain warhammer wielding breton 😏

Aside from that Miraina has a farmer's tan and scars dotting her body-- and what I personally like to call her copper halo of hair. (It's more brown for her lil brother but he has copper in his hair too hehe)

[headofmars]

This is time for Mystic Messenger OC! . . . Name: Kim Yeong-hye. AKA: Kumiho_69 (nickname on chat-rooms). Pronouns: She/her.

General information Gender: Woman. Age: 24. Blood type: B. Birthday: 26 April. Zodiac Sign: Taurus. Religion: Agnostic.

Physical Appearance Height: 167 cm. Eye: Amber. Hair: Cocoa brown.

Background Information Status: Alive. Occupation: occasional waitress in Jaehee’s Café. Affiliations: RFA. Hobbies: Catfishing rich people on the internet, chewing bubble-gum. Relatives: Mother, father, older sister, younger brother.

Personality Flirty, mischievous and loud, when Yeong-hye walks in a room she has all eyes on her. And when she is down, the atmosphere changes drastically. Strong as a storm in appearance, Yeong-hye hides the wounded heart of a child and the need to be loved and cared for.

Appearance A chubby woman, with strong arms and thick thighs. She has long straight hair, which loves jealousy, and a round face, big eyes with long eyelashes. Her breasts and hips are large and she is quite proud of them. She usually wears a white shirt, a black skirt with stockings and flat shoes.

Background StoryHer past is a taboo topic and when she speaks about her family it’s always with disdain. The harsh reality is she misses it dearly but has no intention to move back. She also had a boyfriend who helped her obtain gender affirmation healthcare, but they broke up abruptly. 

Gender&Sexuality She is a bisexual trans* woman and she is questioning her relationship orientation. Sexual monogamy is not really her thing.

Relationships 707: they are friends with benefits and they love doing mischievous things together. Jaehee: her girlfriend, Yeong-hye loves spoiling her. They often clash over their different lifestyles and you can regularly hear them having an argument. Jumin: open war. If Yeong-hye has an occasion to insult him, she will do it with no regrets. Ray: she acts exceptionally polite and forces herself to smile and be friendly towards him. More for 707’s affection than for her will. V: Yeong-hye has a deep crush on him, but she is scared of a possible comparison with Rika. Yoosung: he reminds Yeong-hye of a younger herself and she has no pity towards him. Zen: after a tumultuous start, caused by Jaehee’s adoration for him, they are friends and often hang out.  Trivia > Her name is from the novel ‘The vegetarian’, Han Kang. > She wants to be a cat-lady once grown-up. > She smokes only Black Devil cigarettes.

Dusk with Tango, Chun Kyung-ja (1924-2015), 1978.

[songsofadelaide]

Covet

tw/cw: set in 2013, we're in high school, always sleepy female reader, established relationship, fluff, slice of life, mentions of other female students gossiping about reader, making out, dry humping, atsumu going through it, reader trying to prove a point — From where you sat, gently cradled in his arms, you could see why other girls seethed at you in jealousy. His brown eyes drank in your every feature like you were the only thing worth looking at in the world. wc: 2.6k words

Everyone knows that the sleepy second-year girl is happily taken by Japan's number one high school setter.

Your relationship goes back a year from now, when you were both first years. Atsumu had found you asleep nearby while he was closing up the gym, book in your hand but your head definitely in dreamland. It wasn't your intention, but you had overslept and woke up at dusk fall, which was way beyond the afternoon time limit you set for yourself.

You walked home together that one time and became fast friends afterwards. He would catch you at the cafeteria and drop a milk box or juice box in your hands from time to time. ("Y'know, to keep you awake, aho," he once told you.) On other days, it was one of Osamu's experimental onigiris. Some days, it would be two or three jelly fruit sticks he obviously nabbed from Suna. His loud laughter whenever he'd tell you a stupid joke would draw everyone's attention to you both until he was unwillingly dragged away by his twin for their next class. 

There were rumours spreading around about Atsumu being a heartbreaker, but you thought it was already given seeing as he was popular and had a lot of admirers around him. You never quite understood why he wouldn't date anyone, though. Apart from volleyball and classes, there was nothing else in between for him. 

...except there was something. Or someone. Because that's what he'd been telling the girls who confessed to him...

Not that it was any of your business, but if he were seeing someone while also hanging out with you, it would pose a problem because you didn't want any jealous girlfriend on your tail, especially when you just wanted to sleep in peace. 

"I think we should stop hanging out with each other too much."

You recalled how red his face went after you told him that while you were on your way home together one time. 

"One of the girls from my class said you rejected her because you were already seeing someone. Now I don't wanna be caught up in some vicious love triangle, Miya. You of all people should know that I value my quiet life and I just want to sleep and write in peace—"

"Man, are ya dumb or what?!"

"What?! Why am I suddenly the dumb one here?!"

"Because you are!"

You stared at each other angrily, red-faced and ready to shout again before he finally let out a sigh of defeat. 

"Ya really don't get it, do ya?"

"G-Get what?"

When you arrived back home, it was your mother who opened the gate for you, and she was caught entirely by surprise when Atsumu bowed down before her and formally (and nervously) asked if he could start dating you. 

(Apparently, your mother and his mother knew each other since they were both part of the same local tea club, so he pretty much had her approval from the get go.)

The fact that you were what was in between his volleyball and classes made you absolutely self-conscious. You had asked him to keep it a secret for the meantime until just recently...

What was supposed to be an unconfirmed rumour finally came to light on your second year, when Atsumu first came to your homeroom to join you for lunch. Seeing him there surprised your classmates, particularly Suna, who jokingly raised the question of dating at his teammate. 

"Huh? Yeah, we're dating." 

It slipped out of the setter's mouth so smoothly and easily that it completely gave away how long the two of you have been going out. 

It was no surprise that some of the girls at school considered you some kind of odd bird when word came out that you were Atsumu's mystery girlfriend.  Whispers and murmurs were afloated a lot when  the other girls from your class thought you weren't around. 

"Maybe he likes prudes?"

"...a sheltered girl from a traditional family..."

"He found her asleep near the gyms. She probably waited for him out there and..."

Locker room talk like this was rampant and it definitely put a dent on your peaceful school life. Yes, somehow every aspect of your relationship with your boyfriend was whispered about, passed around like notes in class. Atsumu was popular in his own right and was often the subject of things you wished you never heard. Things you wished you could shut your ears to. 

"Ah, I wish he dated me instead. I'd give him such a good time."

And while you were completely dense to his feelings at first, you knew exactly what the other girls meant when they talked about giving him a good time. 

You didn't have the nerves of steel that other girls did when it came to such perverted talk, but you had an iron will to change how such words were being thrown around you so casually. Especially since they were talking about your boyfriend.

Saturdays meant half-day training for the volleyball club and Atsumu found himself invited to your house at the most convenient and curious time. He arrived there still in his club tracksuit, obviously not thinking much about the invitation, but he looked rather unnerved when you opened the gates for him in that airy pale blue sundress with the ribboned straps resting on your shoulders. He followed you in soundlessly as he looked around the compound, looking to greet your family.

"It's unusually quiet here today. Where's your mom and aunts?"

He had taken his seat on the tatami floor of your spacious bedroom, training bag set aside on one corner. 

"There's no one else here," you told him, shutting the sliding doors behind you. 

"Oh."

You stared at each other for a solid minute, faces slowly turning red at the prospect of finally being able to spend an hour or two completely alone with each other.

"D-Don't stare at me, aho!" You started, cheeks obviously flushed as you stomped towards him. 

A chuckle left his lips, a grin finally appearing as he stretched out his hand to reach for you. You gently slid your hand into his and felt yourself be pulled down beside him. Surprisingly, you both let out sighs of relief at the same time, but he could tell that yours was definitely out of defeat. 

"Are ya finally gonna tell me what's going on, sweet thing?" 

There was no way he could make himself small, even as he sat before you, broad shoulders slightly hunched so he could meet your gaze. 

"I'm sure you're aware that you and your brother are pretty popular at school. Everyone was caught by surprise when they found out that we've been dating for quite a while now."

"Yeah, I know that. Are ya hearing any troubling things?"

He reached out to caress your cheek, callused fingers brushing over the warmth of your face. You lowered your eyes, avoiding his gaze as you pursed your lips. 

"Sex talk makes you uncomfortable, huh? Especially when it's me they're talking about," he said. "I don't think there's much we can do about that. Ya know how people will still talk about whatever they want."

"I... I don't like hearing how other girls think they can give you a good time. It's annoying," you stated, another sigh of defeat leaving your lips. "I'm sorry. I  know I shouldn't let their words get to me, but it really leaves a bad taste in my mouth whenever I have to play deaf to their words."

"A good... time? Like what? They gonna receive my sets or something?" He said with a laugh as he pulled you into his arms. "Whatever they say won't change the fact that it's you I want."

He couldn't see how your lips curved upward as your cheek collided with his collar. "I love you."

The softness of the way you spoke those words made him tense up for a moment, but he smiled as your eyes met again. "You really put one hell of a love spell on me, ya know." 

From where you sat, gently cradled in his arms, you could see why other girls seethed at you in jealousy. His brown eyes drank in your every feature like you were the only thing worth looking at in the world. 

"Do you want to, uh, kiss or something?" You asked him, observing the expression on his face. "I mean we've kissed before, but not the, uh..."

"Yeah, I think I get why Samu called this a tasty situation," Atsumu chuckled to himself once again, as he finally came to terms with something. "Sure, sweet thing."

He shifted his sitting position as he gently hoisted you onto his lap while you moved to straddle him, hands on his shoulders. 

"Perfect," he stated, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. "All yours."

The boy was smiling as you kissed, obviously delighted with the little sounds you made as your lips moved in sync with his. His hands made their way to your waist and he could feel you trembling. 

Ah. 

The heat coursing through your body shot up to your head and you hesitantly pulled away from the kiss as you felt callused fingers gently sliding under your skirt, part of which had already pooled around your waist. 

"I-Is that your... S-Something's poking my butt."

"Yeah, that's definitely mine," he replied with a lazy grin, holding your gaze. "You don't see anyone else here now, do ya?"

"Right, uh..." You stammered, head too hazy to form a coherent sentence. "Can... Can I move closer? C-Can I move?" 

"Stop asking questions, babe, just— Tch."

A low growl through clenched teeth left his mouth as he felt your hands paw at the bulge under his immaculately white track pants, antsy fingers gently shifting the twitching length before sitting down on him, your crotch rubbing against his erection. His fingers sank into your waist as you slowly started rocking your hips against him.

You told yourself that this was the farthest you could go for now, seeing as it took so much courage for you to even start this conversation. 

And yet, you couldn't help but applaud yourself for this little achievement, especially after seeing the look of resolve wash away from your boyfriend's face, his expression a mixture of both frustration and pleasure. You coiled your arms around his neck and dove in for an open-mouthed kiss which he met so eagerly. 

The afternoon heat and your exchange of heavy breaths made your head go cloudy. Your mind was so fogged that you didn't even realise the soft moans slipping out of your lips and how your hips moved so erratically. Atsumu was staring at your face through half-lidded eyes, a heady, absent-minded smile on his face as he tried to pace his own movement, his fingers digging into your thighs as his own hips instinctively thrust upward. 

You felt a warmth pool at the pit of your stomach, the buzzing in your head blocking out everything save for the electrifying pleasure you shared with your boyfriend. Atsumu felt hotter than usual, most probably due to his black training shirt taking in all of his body heat and part of yours as well. 

"Ngh... I l-love you so much— ah!"

Your words were drawled out and garbled, but the smile on his face only meant he understood what you said, but he was more focused on the way your body tensed up. You threw your head back as a sharp cry of pleasure escaped your lips, your movements finally slowing to a halt. He rested his forehead on your shoulder and you swore you heard him curse under his breath. You felt his shoulders tense up as well, your fingers gently raking the hair just above his nape to soothe him as his climax concluded as well. 

The buzzing in your head was replaced by the sound of your own pulse, the sound of your own blood rushing through your ears making you so self-conscious that you almost pulled away from Atsumu's grip. The same heavy exhales left his mouth as he raised a hand to sweep away the strands of hair that was stuck on your sweat-sheened neck. 

"You..." He started. "Look at ya. You're so fucking pretty and those scrubs oughta be jealous."

You cupped his face in both your hands before leaning down to kiss him softly, tears pooling in your eyes as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. 

"I love you, too," he said, his voice low that it reverberated through your chest. "Only you."

Your aunts found the two of you curled up together comfortably as you dozed off, the sliding doors drawn open to let in the cool afternoon breeze. Your father was oddly suspicious as to why you were wearing a longer dress compared to the flimsier one you had on earlier, but you brushed it off as dressing appropriately for your guest. 

Your mother and aunts were laughing and whispering to themselves as they observed the boy placing food over your rice before finally getting some for himself. "My, Atsumu-kun, we're sure she can get her own food, so don't worry and eat up."

"Ah, but I, uh, like doing things for her," he replied with a bashful smile on his face, a hand suddenly on the back of his head. "She does a lot for me, too. I guess I just want to take care of her."

Your father quirked an eyebrow at the younger man's reply, but your mother playfully nudged him. The older women's chattering filled the dining room again, but you paid no mind to their banter. You smiled to yourself as Atsumu stuffed his face with rice and steamed vegetables. 

This boy was yours, all right. And you could take care of him way better than anyone else could claim.

Atsumu messaged you when he got home that evening after having dinner with your family, including the part where Osamu teased him for coming home in his spare training shorts. 

He was visually surprised when you turned up to school the following Monday wearing the darkest pair of tights underneath your black skirt uniform. 

"You probably left welts on her, Tsumu," you heard Osamu tease his twin. "Try not to be so hot-blooded next time."

He wasn't wrong, though.

The girls from your class were surprised when you entered the changing room with them for gym class, even taking the middle locker as you stripped down from your school uniform. You heard the whispers die out as you slid out of the dark tights, revealing fading purple streaks on your thighs and waist which were obviously greedy hand prints left by Atsumu.

"I-It's nice of you to join us today, uh..." one of the girls started, her eyes flitting from the bruises to the calculating look on your face. "You rarely change with us whenever it's time for gym class."

A soft hum left your lips as you pulled up your hair to a ponytail, revealing a single love bite just below your right collarbone. You smiled at them coolly, allowing them to gaze and gape at the little love bruises printed on your body.

"Looks like you had a fun weekend," another girl remarked, the verve in her voice gone as she eyed the red and violet bruise on your chest before finally looking away. 

You got into your gym uniform and stretched your arms upward, feeling absolutely accomplished as you made your point without even speaking yet. All eyes were on you again as you spoke rather happily. "Ah, thanks. Atsumu and I had a great time. Anyway, I'm heading out first. Nice to talk to you." 

The girls' changing room was oddly quiet whenever you were there afterwards.

Author's Notes: Happy new year, friends and folks! May we all have a prosperous one. During my short break, I decided to read some of my old work and thought of publishing a select few - my favourite ones and some which I thought were pretty bold pieces, this one included. Atsumu is one of my favourite dark horses, one I never thought I'd like so much. This is part of my older HQ series on AO3, Dreams of Fire Trees and Silver Moons. I can still recall how much I enjoyed writing this, though I was a little doubtful about it. I hope enjoyed reading this one just as much. 💛