#excellent questions bud!

[wandasaura]

THE ONE YOU REACHED FOR

summary — after you decide to be a brat as a means to get natasha’s attention, she punishes you, though wanda thinks she’s entirely too soft

warning(s) — married wandanat, dom/sub relationship, bratting, punishment, grinding, humiliation, spanking, orgasm control, daddy kink, minor choking, strap-on usage, degrading, praise, oh so much reassurance, aftercare, wanda being a menace, reader being a menace right back, essentially enemies to lovers but reader’s stubborn, men/minors dni

authors note — this series was inspired by gold rush on ao3! i highly recommend checking it out! that being said, i may have gotten carried away with this dynamic but i absolutely adore wandanat and the budding relationship between wanda and r (even if r is too stubborn to see it yet), apart of the you are in love universe

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha’s office was cold. Your legs and arms were adorned in a layer of goosebumps that even a night in the Antarctic would envy, but she made no indication that she even noticed your violent shivering. You were just thankful she hadn’t made you face the wall, at least now you could watch as she sifted through emails and excel word documents with ease. Your nose scrunched in disgust when you caught sight of a particularly grueling math equation, but she had tackled it with grace, something she did frequently. Nothing could rattle her composure, not even your brattiness on the hottest summer day New Jersey had seen all season.

You heard Wanda’s footsteps before you saw her, but there was no doubt in your mind that the auburn-haired Sokovian was the one coming up the stairs. Nobody else had a key to the house, nobody save from you and well, you were already inside. The Maximoff’s were a high profile couple. Even before you’d gotten into a relationship with Natasha had you known of their existence. It was hard not to know of them, their multi-billion dollar law firm was at the top of its game and every celebrity and major corporation wanted them on their side. You’d want them on your side too if it ever came down to it, but thankfully you’d managed to stay out of trouble. Legally at least.

You saw Wanda before Natasha did, though you knew the scarlet-haired woman had heard her office door squeak on its hinges when she entered. Your cheeks flushed pink when Wanda’s eyes met yours and she raised a questioning brow at your predicament. She didn’t address you, no she completely ignored you in favor of sparking up conversation with her wife, the woman you had initially sought attention from.

“What’s she doing here?” Wanda questioned smoothly, her perfectly manicured hands finding their rightful place on Natasha’s shoulders, working out a knot near the nape of her neck. You huffed your annoyance, watching them with narrowed eyes as you pulled your arms closer around your torso and tried to keep warm. Initially, the cold had been comforting. It was blisteringly hot outside, and when you’d entered your cheeks had been flush from the sun, but now you wished Natasha would turn down the air conditioning or at least take pity on your chattering teeth and throw you the hoodie that laid unused on the couch beside her.

“Wanted attention. She almost had it too.” Natasha shrugged, turning her head just enough to meet Wanda’s waiting lips. Their kiss was sweet, nothing short of marital, but it made your belly burn with envy as you watched Wanda get what you wanted.

“She’s freezing, Nat.” Wanda rolled her eyes softly, having noticed the slightest tint of blue that adorned your usually very pink lips. She reached for the hoodie on the couch, chucking it over to you despite her wife’s protests. That was all the attention you received before she was back to being entirely occupied with her wife. “How long has she been in the corner?”

“Mm, bought half an hour.” Natasha mused only half interested in the conversation Wanda was attempting to have, her fingers already back to typing frantically on the noisy keyboard. Typically, you loved the sound of her typing. It was fast paced and soothing, but now you wanted nothing more than to throw the keyboard across the room and demand she never touched it again. You were in no position to be making such demands, but still you let yourself imagine the satisfaction of the action.

You slipped the hoodie over your head, smoothing down your wild hair the second your hands had slipped past the tight cuffs at the bottom of the sleeves. The article was warm and well worn, though all you really cared to notice was how it smelled distinctly of citrus and calm. You could identify the softest note of coconut and maybe mandarin, and your brows furrowed. Natasha wore vanilla. She never ventured into anything fruity, claiming she herself was fruity enough to spare the general public of smelling it too. That meant the hoodie had to be Wanda’s, and while irrational, you felt like it burned your skin by just touching you.

“What’d she do? Bite too hard?” Wanda teased, not even glancing in your direction despite you being the topic of conversation. It was utterly humiliating, but you’ve learned to expect nothing less when Wanda’s around. The woman has a real knack for getting under your skin, intentional or not. “You should really train your pet better.”

“I’m not a pet.” You huffed out, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly, but your outburst was ignored by both women. If you didn’t know superpowers were just a thing of fiction, you would’ve believed that you’d become invisible.

Natasha laughed at Wanda’s assumption, though she shook her head in response. “I asked her to give me five minutes. All the money I give her, you’d think she would’ve gotten herself a watch. Needy little thing couldn’t even last three before she was crawling into my lap and trying to undress me.”

“You're answering Pepper’s emails.” Wanda laughed amusedly, completely bypassing Natasha’s summary of events, not at all surprised by your unwillingness to be patient. Patience seemed to be your biggest undoing, even after seven months of being taught the importance of it. “She’ll have a heart attack. It hasn’t sat in your inbox for at least two weeks yet.”

You couldn’t see Natasha’s face, but you could imagine her rolling her eyes. After almost a year of being under contract with the lawyer, you’d come to know her mannerisms like the back of your hand. This type of back and forth wasn’t new to you, but it’s the first time you’d been forced to watch without any kind of attention yourself. To say you hated it was an understatement.

“Did I tell you that you could leave that corner?” Natasha growled, not even having to look over her shoulder to know that you were starting to migrate toward them. Your footsteps were light, perfectly inaudible, but as well as you knew her, she knew you even better.

“I want you!” You whined rather petulantly, not caring how you came across, not caring that you’d probably just earned yourself at least twenty spanks for not only talking back to her but for leaving your post before you’d been given permission. You’d played this game too many times before. Wanda had seen you play this game too many times. But still, you never learned how to make things easy for yourself.

“Did I tell you that you could leave that corner?” Natasha all but growled, still not turning around to give you even a sliver of attention. Your usual soft and attentive dominant was uncharacteristically cruel today, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were toeing a little too close to the line

“No.” You answered meekly, digging your naked toes into the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Shame flooded your senses, a desperate need to be good coming over you and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Please Daddy. I don’t wanna stand in the corner anymore. It’s cold!”

“I swear, Nat. You need to do something about her attitude.” Wanda remarked, her eyes focused on her perfectly manicured fingers as she poked and pushed at her cuticles, entirely uninterested in your predicament.

“Yeah? And what would you suggest?” Natasha scoffed rather uninterestedly, switching through her tabs until she’d gotten back to her excel spreadsheet and transferred whatever finances she’d been focusing on for the last hour.

“Oh, I’d break her.” Wanda snorted, highly amused that Natasha thought you’d be able to handle whatever punishment she would have dished out for your disobedience. “That little girl doesn’t want to know what I’d do to her.”

Your insides burned at Wanda’s implication, and you couldn’t decipher if it was your burning hatred for her and her constant need to appear smug and all powerful, or if it was your desperate curiosity to take her up on that challenge that sparked such feeling in your belly. Whatever it was, it only added to the growing need between your thighs.

“Daddy.” You whined, shuffling on your feet as you contemplated going completely against her and approaching her lap with a pleading gaze, or retreating back to the corner until she deemed you sorry enough to leave it. “Please.”

“You’ve got a brat to tame, Romanoff.” Wanda mused, pressing one last kiss to Natasha’s cheek before she took up space on the two-person couch pressed up against the wall and just beneath the tightly closed and locked window.

“We both know that’s your forte.” Natasha scoffed, huffing out a laugh as she returned her attention to whatever problem Pepper was emailing her about. After seven months, you’d become well versed in the names and job descriptions of most of their employees, and you knew that if Pepper was emailing Natasha for anything at all, that it was important. A pit formed in your belly thinking about how you couldn’t even wait five minutes before taking her attention into your own hands. Clearly you’d interrupted something important.

“Daddy!” You pleaded, tears brimming your eyes as your guilt and desperate need consumed you. You weren’t sure which feeling was the cause for your tears, probably both, but you were at your breaking point and her silent game was only working to undo you faster than you could tolerate it. “Please.” You cried out weakly, nervously chewing on the string of the hoodie, not caring if Wanda would be repulsed by the action, nor if you ruined her hoodie because of it.

“Out of your mouth.” The Sokovian redhead demanded, not harshly, but not kindly either. You hadn’t even realized her eyes had been watching your movements, but your cheeks burned at the reprimand and the string of the hoodie, now damp from your tongue and teeth, dropped back to where it had previously been hanging. You hated giving her the satisfaction of your obedience, but your brain was too overwhelmed to be anything but compliant.

Your nails took the place of the hoodie’s string, already bitten down to the bone as a result of your crippling anxiety and desire to fidget with anything and everything. Natasha had been attempting to break that nasty habit, but she wasn’t around nearly enough for her efforts to be consistent. You saw her a handful of times a week, some days for the sole purpose of engaging in kink, sometimes just because she liked to know you as a person just as much as she liked to know you as her submissive, but there were weeks where she was needed on business and the best you’d get was a measly phone call and text messages. If you weren’t contractually binded, and had met by chance, you would have no hesitation about considering her a friend, though you liked much more to call her your daddy.

“Come here, baby.” Natasha demanded, pushing away from her desk and swiveling on the chair until her eyes met yours. You’d half expected Wanda to reprimand her for being too soft with you, but it seemed even the Sokovian could tell that you’d passed the point of being bratty and were now drowning in your own thoughts. There was a fine line between punishment and neglect, and even if the lawyer thought you were in need of serious correction, she’d be cruel to even consider leaving you in this state.

You approached Natasha hurriedly, sinking into her lap without hesitation. Your arms looped around her neck tightly, almost challenging her to even attempt to break your grip and send you back to the corner. “Don’t like bein’ ignored.” You sniffled, digging your face into her shoulder, hiding away from Wanda’s heavy gaze and the shame of your previous actions.

“Neither does Daddy.” Natasha stated matter of factly, only adding to the shame that was bubbling over in your belly. Her head rested heavily on the back of your head, allowing you to stay hidden as you attempted to keep yourself together. “Don’t think I’ve gotten about your snarky comment toward Wanda either, or how you deliberately disobeyed me when you took it upon yourself to leave the corner.”

You already knew where she was going with this line of conversation, and you whined pleadingly into her neck, desperate to just avoid another round of punishment in favor of being satisfied. Your hips rocked against hers, your fingers curling into her hair the way you know she likes, tugging gently when you weren’t immediately rewarded with a soft moan. Your bout of regret having clearly been forgotten about as you resumed the bratty tactics that had gotten you into the predicament in the first place.

A sharp sting spread up your thigh in seconds, the sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing around the otherwise quiet office. You gasped in shock, pulling your face away from her neck to look deep into her eyes and search for forgiveness, but all you found was annoyance. You huffed, knowing that you were too far in to back down now, and so tauntingly, you resumed the act of rocking your hips into hers, not lost on the fact that she had a strap confined beneath her business slacks.

“Is it the red one I like, Daddy?” You asked coyly, letting your hand drop from where it was wrapped around her shoulders and teasingly venture down between the valley of her breasts until you came to the bulge in her pants. You squeezed experimentally, rewarded with her breathy moan when the hilt of the harness pressed against her clit, confirmation that she was at least half as worked up as you.

“Have I taught you nothing, Natalia?” Wanda growled, watching the scene unfold before her. You’d almost forgotten she was even in the room, and daringly your eyes snapped to hers. Wanda didn’t fold beneath your heavy glare, merely matching your stare with disinterest in her eyes. Natasha would’ve met your glare. She would’ve narrowed her eyes and silently dared you to keep up with that attitude, but Wanda acted like you weren’t shooting daggers through her. “If you do not want me to come over there and handle you myself, you will fix your attitude, brat.” The slight rasp in Wanda’s tone was undeniably a turn on, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to you. Instead, you stuck your tongue out at her, unsure of how else you were meant to defy her wishes.

Before Wanda could get off the couch, a tick in her jaw at your blatant defiance, Natasha’s fingers were twisting into your hair and tugging your attention back to her. Your glare softened immediately, and sweetly, you placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Do I need to remind you of our rules?” She warned, and you huffed in defeat, wringing your hands together in your lap as you shook your head. “Then you will drop your attitude and apologize to Wanda.”

“I didn’t even do anything, Daddy!” You groaned, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

Clearly that wasn’t the response Natasha was looking for, because in only a matter of seconds you were being hauled off her lap but a handful of your hair and forced to bend over the edge of the desk she’d been occupying for the last hour. “What is rule number six?” She growled in your ear, her hot and heavy breath only adding to the goosebumps that adorned your skin. You’d almost forgotten about them at this point, entirely warmed by her body being so close to yours and the hoodie over your shoulders, but now the memory of them was back and your teeth chattered in response.

A heavy hand met your denim covered ass cheek and your whined, back arching upward in an attempt to dodge her next hit. “What is rule number six?” She asked through gritted teeth, forcing you back into position the way she liked.

“I will show respect to Daddy and her friends.” You huffed, “But Wanda’s not your friend! She’s your wife! That’s not in the rules!”

“She is my wife, that’s right. That means you should not only show her respect, but worship the ground she walks on, not be a disobedient brat.” Natasha seethed, landing another harsh spank to the softest spot of your thigh, not caring that you’re particularly sensitive there, nor that you let out a sharp cry of pain that was in no way mixed with pleasure in response. You’d always hated when she spanked the back of your thighs. It was one of your only limitations when you’d been filling out the contract. It wasn’t a hard no, she never would’ve struck you there if it was, but it was something you’d requested be done sparingly, and clearly you’d worked her up enough to earn yourself one.

“M’kay.” You sniffled, burying your face in your folded arms, not wanting to even spare Wanda a glance. You were absolutely certain there was a smug smile on her lips as she watched you finally be dealt with, but something told you this was the bottom of the barrel when it came to punishments she was capable of.

“How many spanks do you get when you break a rule?” Natasha asked lowly, her left hand still tangled into your hair, and she pulled sharply, forcing your back to arch in her direction, not allowing you the dignity to hide away.

“Ten.” You cried out weakly, trying to alleviate the sting in your scalp as you followed your hand. You’d always been flexible, years of sports and training had assured that, but not even that could completely help you in this situation as she pulled back farther and farther until you stopped struggling in her grip and just admitted defeat. You could safeword if you needed to. Punishments were not an exception to your comfort, but you trusted her to not push your limits, and shamefully, you knew that you needed this. You’d feel too guilty to cope if she completely forwent punishment.

“And how many rules have you broken?” She asked, the softest tinge of her accent bleeding into her words as she let herself completely surrender to her dominant headspace. You always loved when you worked her up to this point, but you hated that this time it was a result of your bratty actions that had done it.

“Um, I don’t know.” You sniffled, but clearly that wasn’t the right answer as she tugged at your hair again, ignoring your sharp cry and the twitch of your fingers as you held onto the edge of the desk.

“What are the rules?” Natasha asked, only slackening her grip the slightest bit. It helped with the sting in your scalp, but it wasn’t completely gone yet.

“I will tell Daddy what I need and what makes me uncomfortable. I will drink at least one bottle of water a day. I will show respect to Daddy and her friends. I will not touch myself without permission. I will not cum without permission. I will use my safeword if I need to. I deserve aftercare.” You rattled off the list with a practiced ease, having practically had the rules engraved in your mind since the very first week of the arrangement.

“Did you tell me that you were feeling anxious being left in that corner?” Natasha’s voice was soft, her grip in your hair gentle and comforting. She let you rest against her chest, your punishment temporarily forgotten as she walked you through the reason behind the awaiting spanking.

Even Wanda had softened in the corner of the room, looking at you with a gleam of something indistinguishable in her eyes. You hated the sight of it, but you couldn’t look away with Natasha’s hand in your hair, so instead you opted to close your eyes, and Natasha allowed you to. Talking about your anxiety was not your favorite pastime, and it was typically avoided whenever Wanda or anyone else was around, but it seems today you wouldn’t get that courtesy. You knew you could safeword, you knew you could ask for Wanda to step out during this conversation at the very least, but as much as you don’t like her, you thought she deserved some kind of explanation for your earlier actions when you’d found comfort in destroying her hoodie. She had to have some idea by now. Natasha offered you too much reassurance for it to have gone completely unnoticed. You’d rather her have the answers then speculate.

“No, Daddy.” You whispered shamefully. “I-I was okay until Wanda said you were answering Pepper. I didn’t like you ignoring me, but I wasn’t anxious.”

“What made you anxious?” Natasha asked calmly, fully loosening her grip on your hair, instead settling for scratching softly at your scalp and letting you melt fully into her, her unoccupied arm wrapping around your torso and keeping you close. You’d never had a dominant prior to Natasha. You’d tested the waters with previous partners sure, but you’d never actively pursued it in the way that you were now. Natasha’s dominance over you didn’t stop once you left the bedroom, and unlike your previous flings, she always tried to understand your triggers so she could avoid them in the future, both sexually and domestically.

“Pepper only emails you when it’s important. I couldn’t be good for five minutes and I interrupted you when you were busy. After I barged in unannounced. I felt– I feel bad.” You whispered softly, dropping your chin to your chest, desperately craving her touch and correction. Nothing would calm the raging storm of guilt in your belly until she punished you. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself until you knew that she did, and words weren’t enough.

“Pepper does email me for important things most times, but she was only asking about the colors of the banquet, milyy. If it was important, I would have told you that.” Natasha gently informs, and your shoulders deflate in relief. You hadn’t even realized you’d been so tense, but with the promise that you hadn’t entirely disrupted her, you could relax. “Why didn’t you safeword? You know that if you start to feel anxious, no matter what, I expect you to safeword.”

“I thought I deserved to feel bad for interrupting you and being bad.” You muttered shyly, acutely aware of how Wanda’s breath caught in her throat at your explanation. You hadn’t ever shown this side of yourself to her. It was always Natasha alone who had the misfortune of catching you in an episode of panic.

“You are not bad. You are never bad. I do not want to hear you say that again, do you understand, detka?” Natasha asked sternly, and you merely shrugged.

“I was mean to Wanda, and I interrupted you, and I didn’t listen. That’s three rules. Please Daddy.” Natasha knew you needed her to spank you. You needed to clear your head, and you needed her to help you, but she wouldn’t relent until she heard you repeat her words.

“In a second, milyy.” She assured you gently, her hand leaving your hair entirely in favor of spinning you around in her arms and tilting your chin upward until you had no choice but to look her in the eye. “I want you to tell me that you are not bad.”

“I’m not bad.” You didn’t believe it. She knew you didn’t believe it, but for right now, she let it go. A soft kiss was placed on the tip of your nose, a sweet action that you had made clear you adored. Unlike the giggles it usually provoked, you merely smiled weakly and leaned into her touch.

“You’re getting thirty spanks. We’ll see if you deserve my strap after that.” Natasha nodded, content for the moment. She spun you back around, making quick word of the button and zipper on your denim shorts. Your cheeks flushed red, remembering the specific choice of underwear you’d chosen that morning. Baby pink flowers adorned your ass, and the somewhat frilly elastic edges were a gentle shade of green that would make Natasha’s eyes pop if she held it up to her face.

You felt entirely exposed knowing that Wanda was witnessing this and seeing your less than sexy underwear, but it wasn’t the first time she’s seen you be bent over a surface in her house. You remembered vividly the last time she had watched Natasha spank you. It had been after a long day in the office, and Wanda had come home to find you bent over the arm of the couch. She made a joke that Natasha intended to christen every piece of furniture in the house, and while it hadn’t been funny to you, Natasha had laughed loudly and freely in response.

“You will count after each one. If you mess up, we’re starting over. Do you understand?” She asked, pressing down on your back and assuring that you understood where you were meant to remain for the duration of your spanking. You were on your tippy toes, the top of your thighs pressing into the edge of her desk, but you didn’t have the right to complain about the uncomfortable position, so you merely nodded your head and braced for the first hit.

It came seconds later, powerful and unforgiving on your left asscheek. You felt the flesh bounce in response, and the string that was left behind was so sinfully pleasant that you ground your teeth together and choked out a harsh, “One, Daddy.”

The second hit was delivered all the same, left in the same exact spot with a practiced precision. Leave it to Natasha to have good enough hand-eye contact to be able to leave a handprint on your ass so vividly you’d see it leftover for days. The third hit came to your right asscheek, and a gush of arousal further dampened your already saturated panties. The flowers beneath your sopping entrance were undoubtedly a dark shade of pink by now, and you could only imagine what the sight looked like to her.

The fourth and fifth spank came directly after one another, and you counted them off rather breathlessly as her hand gently massaged your stinging flesh until it was nothing more than a pleasant ache. Your eyes were pinched shut, your breathing was shallow, but you craved the next hit, and when it didn’t come, you whined in protest and pushed your ass out toward her hips.

“Begging for me to spank you. How pathetic.” Natasha taunted, though she didn’t disappoint, and the next spank came quickly after, directed toward the center of your ass.

By sixteen, there were tears in your eyes and a desperate pulse in your clit, but you hadn’t miscounted nor forgotten about numbers entirely, and Natasha was beaming with pride. “Good girl.” She cooed, her fingers trailing over your panties until she came upon the wet patch between the apex of your thighs. “So fucking wet. Does it turn you on when Daddy spanks your ass?”

Natasha knows that it does. You’ve asked for enough spankings in the last seven months to prove that fact to her, but she still finds a way to humiliate you every time you find yourself bent over as punishment. There is a very thin line between a maintenance spanking and a punishment, but you know that by time you reach the thirtieth spank you’ll have crossed the threshold of pleasurable pain. “Y-Yes. Daddy please. Please.”

“What do you want, detka? Use your words. You had no problem using them earlier when you wanted to mouth off with my wife.” All the while her hand was still buried between your thighs, avoided your clit with skilled ease, and it was slowly driving you insane. Her index finger pushed against your entrance overtop of your panties, not enough to provide any semblance of pleasure, but still enough to make your knees tremble beneath your awkwardly supported weight.

“Spank me. Please, Daddy, spank me!” You sobbed, attempting to reach for the edge of the desk in a weak attempt to ground yourself in the moment, but with your half-floating position, you found that it was just out of reach and you cried out in frustration as you settled for digging your blunt fingernails into her desk instead.

You hadn’t noticed Wanda approaching you, too lost in the pleasure of Natasha’s fingers on your cunt and the delicious sting in your ass, but you felt her nonetheless. Her hands, so soft and warm compared to the freezing temperature of the office, found a place on your lower back that was still covered by the thick material of her sweatshirt.

“Shh, dorogoy.” She soothed you gently, a stark contrast to her typical cold and sharp tone. You didn’t have any fight left in you to care about her close proximity to you, and desperately you scrounged about until your hand found hers and squeezed tightly. It was at that moment that Natasha resumed her prior actions, and a harsh and sharp spank landed on your left asscheck.

“Seventeen, Daddy!” You cried out, squeezing Wanda’s hand tightly. You were beginning to regret breaking so many rules. You were still thirteen spanks away from being forgiven, and that pleasurable pain that you found comfort in was turning bitter the harsher she was with you. You needed this, both of you knew that, but that never made it any easier to swallow in the moment. Tomorrow, you’d think twice before sitting down for meals or tasks, you’d fondly poke at your sore ass and giggle at the dull ache that brought a sense of comfort and security over you, but for right now, it was torture, especially when you were so desperate for release.

Her hits only seemed to get harsher and stronger as you got closer to thirty, but Wanda didn’t pull away even for a second and every so often Natasha would whisper praises in your ear that made your insides turn to mush. You were lost in your head, mindlessly counting out numbers with no real acknowledgement for what they meant, just desperate to please her. It was only when you reached number twenty five that Natasha switched up her tactics and paused for a moment, taking the time to undress you fully and surrender your body to the harsh cold of her office.

You whined when your pebbled nipples met the cold surface of her desk, already sensitive without the stimulating chilled surface. You squirmed for only a second before Natasha reprimanded you for trying to find a comfortable position, stilling immediately in fear of her adding more spanks or taking away your right to feel her cock in your pussy as a reward. This was a punishment, you would take it how she gave it unless you absolutely couldn’t.

“Five more.” She promised, leaving a soft kiss in the middle of your back. “I want you to tell me you’re not bad after each one, is that understood?”

When you didn’t answer, entirely lost in the blissful beginning of subspace, Wanda gently captured your attention, showing you a glimpse of her softer side. A side you would see more of if you didn’t try to get under her skin each and every time she was around. “Daddy asked you a question, milyy. She expects an answer.”

Breathing out shakily, you nodded your head. “Understood, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Natasha hummed, but that was the last offer of praise you were given before her hand clapped against the skin of your thigh and you whined and keened in response, trying to wiggle away from her harsh hits.

“No, Daddy!” You sobbed, your hand desperately fighting against Wanda’s hold. She let you go instantly, and you didn’t hesitate to reach down and rub at the sore spot she left with a deep pout on your lips. “Ow!” You whined, tears slipping past your eyes and dampening your cheeks as your shoulders trembled.

“Shh.” Natasha and Wanda cooed in sync, and if you weren’t so spaced out you would’ve rolled your eyes at their alikeness. “I know it hurts, milyy. I know you don’t like it, but this is important to Daddy. It’s important to me that you know you’re not bad. Only four more. You’re being such a good girl. My best girl. Making Daddy so proud, taking your punishment so good. Let Wanda hold your hand, and it’ll be over soon. Then you’ll get me cock. Okay?” Natasha gently fussed over your state of upset, the pads of her thumbs wiping the tears off of your face. You leaned into her gentle touch, savoring it before you nodded weakly.

The next hit came just as harsh as the first, but you’d been expecting it at the very least, and hadn’t had such a violent reaction. Wanda praised you through the entire ordeal, not even considering reprimanding you when your voice grew hoarse and you barely remembered to echo the words Natasha had asked you to repeat. She got the hint that this was one of your softer limits, so she settled for talking you through it rather than demanding you show her partner some respect. She felt so full of warmth as she watched you take the last three spanks with minimal complaints, knowing the level of trust it took to allow a dominant to use a weakness against you, even if it wasn’t in any way ill intended.

“No more, Daddy! No more. Please.” You sobbed when the last hit came, your thighs a gentle shade of pink that Natasha would have fussed over had she not been entirely too committed to making sure you were okay. Your thighs were slick with arousal, your clit pulsed with need, and she had every intention of making it better once she got you to calm down.

“No more. You did so good for me, detka. My good girl. Daddy’s so proud of you.” She cooed gently, pulling you up off the desk and into her waiting arms. You melted against her chest, pliant and putty in her hands as she gently massaged your stinging ass, careful to leave your thighs alone for the time being.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, fisting her shirt in your trembling fists, suddenly very aware of how clothed she and Wanda were in comparison to you. Even your pink and green panties had been discarded on the floor in a pile, the scent of your arousal heavy and thick in the air.

“All’s forgiven, milyy. You’re okay.” She reassured, peppering tiny kisses into the crown of your head before she pulled away completely and eased you back onto her desk, this time allowing you to rest on your back in a comfortable position. Her skilled fingers dipped between your dripping folds, collecting your wetness that awaited and begged for her touch. “You’re so wet. Is this all for me?” She teased gently, bringing her fingers up toward her mouth. Her tongue darted out to sweep against the digits, and she moaned in delight at the taste of you. It had been entirely too long since she’d gotten to properly devour you, but that would have to wait until a later date. She didn’t have the heart to leave you hanging any longer then she already had, especially not when you’d been such a good girl for her.

“Please.” You begged, your hooded eyes tracing her movements as she sucked her fingers clean and let them leave her mouth with an audible pop as she abruptly broke the suction. “Please, I want your cock. I’ve been good! Please Daddy, I want you inside of me!”

“You’ve been so good, little one. The best girl.” Natasha affirmed, already working on the button of her business pants. You watched her intently, not paying Wanda the slightest bit of attention though you should’ve known better than that. When you were distracted with the sight of Wanda, the Sokovian woman to your right had taken it upon yourself to work you up even further, clearly not yet satisfied with the length of time you’d had to wait to get to this very moment.

Her fingers found your nipple in only a matter of seconds, and you gasped out in a mixture of shock and pain when she pinched and pulled at your sensitive buds cynically. You arched up into her touch, not sure if you wanted more of it or none of it, and your eyes fluttered closed. Wanda didn’t like that your attention was no longer on Natasha, and she made that clear when she twisted your left nipple harshly. “Eyes open. Your Daddy may have forgiven you, but I’ve yet to get an apology.”

Your eyes snapped open at her words, frantically searching for Natasha as you refocused on her half undressed body. Her black pants were on in a heap on the floor residing beside your own pile of clothes, but her shit was still buttoned over her chest, wrinkled from your tight grip and somewhat disheveled from how aggressively she’d pulled you flush against her at the beginning of your punishment.

Your lips parted in lust when you caught sight of the red strap-on between her thighs. She hadn’t confirmed your suspicions before, but now it was undeniable that throughout this entire ordeal, she’d been packing your favorite toy between her thick and strong thighs. A needy whine left your lips when Wanda harshly slapped at your tits, the soft mounds of flesh bouncing as a result of her hits.

“I don’t think you deserve to be fucked by your favorite toy after mouthing off to me, but you’re Daddy’s too kind to go get a different one. You should thank her.” She hadn’t said you didn’t deserve to be fucked at all, but something about the idea of Natasha switching to a smaller strap seemed like a worse punishment then being left high and dry all together, and feverishly you thanked her for her generosity, not wanting to risk the chance of Wanda’s words actually packing a punch.

Gently, Natasha guided the tip of the strap into your entrance, letting you get accustomed to the stretch before she completely bottomed out inside of you. She’d only gotten the red strap recently, three weeks ago after a business trip to LA, and while you adored it and took it like a champ every time she pulled it out, it was significantly girthier than any of the other ones that resided in her and Wanda’s collection. She didn’t want to hurt you, no matter how many times you told her to be rough.

“Move. Daddy, move please! Fuck me!” You begged, writhing beneath Wanda’s hot hands as she kept up with her ministations on your sensitive and aching nipples.

“You want me to move, pretty girl? You want me to fuck this needy cunt?” Natasha’s thumb found your clit easily, and she rubbed harsh circles along your sensitive bundle of nerves the way she knew you liked it, perfectly content with the knowledge that you wouldn’t last a full five minutes if she kept up the way she was. She was close herself. The strap had been rubbing against her clit since she’d put it on that morning, not knowing you’d show up, but anticipating it anyways. She really did know you like the back of her hand.

“Please! Please! Please Daddy, I want it! I need it!” You babbled needily, uncaring for how you came across to Wanda. You arched into the touch of the Sokovian, you desperately leaned into the strap, your body attempting to stretch in multiple directions as you chased after all of the sensations the two married women were providing your already overstimulated body.

Natasha didn’t need to hear you beg anymore. She set a brutal pace as she snapped her hips, rocking the dildo into your pussy and simultaneously chasing the pressure it put on her clit. She toyed with your clit in unwavering determination to see you fall apart, her eyes pinched shut as she chased after her own pleasure and provided you with yours. Your incoherent babbling was like music to her ears as she pulled your thighs further apart and thrust deeper into your pussy, hammering your sensitive and tight walls with a punishing pace.

“G-Gonna cum! Daddy! Please! Please! I want to c-cum! Please!” You pleaded and writhed, thankful that Wanda had eased off your nipples and you could now focus fully on the sensations that spread through your body from the way Natasha worked your cunt.

“Is that how you ask?” Wanda teased, her hot hand laying softly on your neck. She didn’t squeeze, she wouldn’t without your explicit permission, which she didn’t have, but just the thought of her choking you like Natasha did had your mind reeling and the desperation growing. “Ask nicely.”

“Please can I cum Daddy? Please!” You sobbed, feeling the coil ready to snap with or without Natasha’s explicit permission. You so desperately wanted to be good, wanted to prove yourself not only to her but to Wanda, who seemed to question if you even knew the definition of obedience, but you couldn’t stave off your orgasm for much longer. You’d been desperate for her touch all day, and now that you finally had it the way that you wanted it, it was almost impossible to deny yourself that release.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. Daddy’s gonna cum with you.” Natasha grunted in a manner that was so hot you nearly lost your mind. With Wanda’s hand still loosely around your neck and Natasha’s quick thrust and skilled fingers working you over, you fell over the edge and into a blinding orgasm that had tears falling from your eyes. That blissful taste of subspace that you’d been experiencing since spank seventeen took over in full force, and with the resolution of your climax, you surrendered to the fuzzy feeling in your mind.

Natasha kissed you gently, her tongue still tasting like your arousal from when she’d licked her fingers clean, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the taste of you on her lips. Your eyes fluttered closed when she stilled her hips and subsequently the dildo, drinking in every physical reminder of her touch like you were scared she’d vanish completely if you didn’t appreciate it.

When she started to pull out, wanting to rid herself of the harness after wearing it for so many hours, you whined in response, desperately pulling her closer to you. The strap-on rubbed against your sensitive walls in a way that was unpleasant at best, and you mourned the loss of the full feeling inside of you before it was even really gone.

“Not today, detka.” Natasha knew what you wanted. She knew how you liked to keep her strap buried inside of you for as long as she allowed after a session like this, but she couldn’t ignore her own discomfort for any longer, even if it meant bringing tears to your eyes. “Shh, it’s okay. Daddy’s still here.” She reassured softly, peppering kisses all over your face as she softly pulled the dildo out of you. You winced when your pussy squelched, a reminder of the wetness that still clung to your lower lips and thighs, but both women soothed your embarrassment with praises and reassurance.

“Clean yourself up.” Wanda nodded toward her wife, already managing to detangle your limbs from Natasha’s and exchange them for her own. It wasn’t the first time she’d assisted during aftercare, but it was the first time you’d been so far gone during it. She knew Natasha though, and the weight of the scene would surely dawn on her in only a handful of minutes now that she wasn’t being fuelled by adrenaline, and when that happened, when the crash came, Wanda knew that the Russian would want to be cleaned up and warm. “I’ll bring her to our bed. You need to focus on you for a couple of minutes.”

“Go with Wanda, baby.” Natasha didn’t argue with her wife, pressing a short kiss to both of your heads before she helped Wanda get a hold of you and cradle you to her chest. You had barely even recognized the shift, too sleepy and blissed out to realize that you were being carried away from Natasha and toward the warm master bedroom down the hall.

Wanda was gentle with you, and despite your hesitance to accept her help when you were in a fully sound headspace, you leaned into her now, craving more of her touch. Your glassy eyes searched for hers as she laid you gently in the center of the bed, already missing the warmth that she provided. You whined in protest, but Wanda only shushed you gently and stalked off toward the en-suite bathroom. You knew this routine well, but you were not at all fond of it.

A soft cry left your lips when you realized that you were all alone in their bed, and while their perfume lingered on the pillows and blankets, mixing together to create the most perfect and calming scent, it wasn’t as fulfilling as actually having them with you. The faucet running in the bathroom caught your attention, and just as you attempted to scramble off of the bed and follow the sound, Wanda’s voice had you stopping in your tracks and sinking into the plethora of pillows that surrounded you.

“Stay there, little one. I’ll be there in just a second.” She called out quietly, though her voice was laced with dominance that you couldn’t ignore. You whined pleadingly, looking between the open en-suite door and the hallway, desperate for either her or Natasha to come back and hold you. “Natty will be back soon. She’s probably getting you some water and a snack. You were such a good girl for her, malysh.”

“Good.” The word felt heavy on your tongue, but by some miracle you had managed to get it passed your lips. Your head was so fuzzy and void of any thoughts, but Wanda still praised your efforts.

When she came back into very, her hair was pinned up by a claw clip that you had seen Natasha wear a handful of times. You never really knew whose things were whose because the women shared everything so interchangeably, but despite your iffy relationship with Wanda, you thought it suited her well.

You were entirely too desperate for physical touch to care about who you sought it from (although secretly you were more than okay with it being Wanda who held you), and when her weight caused the mattress to dip as she joined you on the bed, you practically attacked her with your naked body. Her laughter was like music to your ears as she gently guided you into a lying position, shushing your complaints with a sweet and soft look in her green eyes.

“Such a good girl.” She cooed, dragging the damp washcloth up your inner thighs and over your sticky folds. You whined at the coldness of the rag and the rough material on your sensitive skin, but you made no attempt to wiggle away from it. “I know it’s cold, you’re being so good letting me clean you up. Do you hear that? That’s Natty.” Wanda smiled, effectively distracting you with the sounds of footsteps coming back up the stairs and toward the very room that you occupied.

“Daddy!” You whined, reaching for her the second you saw her in the doorway. As Wanda had promised, she had two bottles of water tucked beneath her arm and a sliced apple on a plate in her hands. She wore a gentle smile, her features no longer saturated in commanding dominance, much like Wanda’s weren’t either, though both women were highly aware of how you’d listen to their every command even without the practiced smolders they gave you.

“Just Natty, baby girl. It’s just Natty. We’re not playing right now, we’re all done.” She cooed gently, setting the plate of apples on the nightstand closest to the door before she reached out to take you into her arms. One bottle of water was passed to Wanda, who opened it thankfully and took a small sip, melting into the pillows against the headboard as she watched her wife fawn over you the way you deserve.

“Natty.” You whispered, preening as her hand found your hair and gently worked out any knots that had formed from when she grabbed you harshly. You melted into her touch, your forehead resting against her clothed stomach, though you took note of the fact that she was no longer wearing her business professional blouse, but rather an old t-shirt from her college years.

“Take a sip for me, baby love.” Natasha coaxed gently, unscrewing the lid on your own bottle of water and holding it up to your lips expectantly. You drank it up greedily, finishing half the bottle before she pulled it away and set it down on the nightstand. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl. Are you going to safeword when you need to next time?” She asked softly, needing to hear your answer for her own peace of mind. The fog in your head had cleared up slightly, and you nodded apologetically.

“It was a bad day.” You whispered softly, knowing that it was no excuse but wanting to give her some context. “I forgot I had an exam in logistics, so when I showed up to class I was completely blindsided. Came here straight after ‘cause I just wanted you and I thought I was okay, then when I thought that I had interrupted something important I just got overwhelmed and didn’t wanna… I don’t even know. Didn’t know how to ask for what I needed. M’sorry. Won't happen again.” You rambled out your apology, pleading with her to understand and forgive you, even though you knew that she already had.

“It makes me feel bad when you don’t safeword, but it’s forgiven. All is forgiven, malen’kiy.” Natasha promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose that was still pink from the flush of your orgasm. Unlike the last time she’d rewarded you with the action, you giggled in response and leaned in closer silently begging her to do it again.

“Are you gonna mouth off to Wanda again?” Natasha teased, her fingers digging into your ribcage as you sat perched on the edge of the bed and looked up at her with wide innocent eyes.

Despite your sore ass and thighs, you shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eyes that no amount of punishment could completely get rid of. “Probably.” You giggled, though there was something undeniably different about your feelings toward the lawyer now. You were too exhausted to figure out what had changed though, and so you left it to be a problem for another day.

Wanda, thoroughly amused with your shameless answer, gently chuckled a pillow in your direction and narrowed her eyes when you turned around to look at her. “Oi, little one. This is still my bed you’re getting all cozy in.”

You merely laughed, falling forward into Natasha’s arms, entirely content with spending the rest of your day wrapped up in her.

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #daddy natasha #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #mommy wanda #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

[xbellaxcarolinax]

pls do virgin miguel o'hara w/ a huge cock and fucks both of u dumb 🥹

I hope this is what you meant, babe. Miguel might be ooc, idk, anyway, here ya go:

NSFW below the cut, minors DNI.

Nothing could have ever prepared you for this.

He's big—massive even. The head’s swollen, precome beading at the very tip. All that from a heavy makeout session.

You stared, almost fascinated, stunned into silence.

"...is it okay?" Miguel grunted, watching you carefully with nervous eyes. He was sitting rather uncomfortably at the edge of your bed, legs spread apart and briefs pooled around his ankles.

"Uhh…yeah," you sank to your knees in front of him, "just never seen one so...big." Miguel grew increasingly flustered at your words, even more so when you gripped him firmly in your hand, squeezing ever so slightly. His cock looked ridiculous in your small hands but that only fueled you to take up the challenge. You knew it'd hurt so good.

You bit your lip before devouring him, taking as much of him as you could. He choked, hand flying to grip your hair, and you were certain he’d take the lead and move you over his cock at the speed he desired, but he didn’t. His fingers were gentle, almost hesitant as he buried them within the strands.

It was your first time tasting him. You got lost in it, slobbering over the tip and down his shaft with the intention of taking him whole but he pushed you away, causing you to release him with a pop.

“Fuck, cariño,” Miguel panted, shaking his head, his dark hair damp with sweat, “I can’t—you can’t—it’s too much, I won’t last.”

You looked up at him with a teary gaze, wanting to make eye contact but he refused, content with turning his head to the side to look at the wall.

“Mig?” He ignored you, jaw clenched and nose flared as he fisted the sheets under him.

“Miguel,” you tried again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood. He ignored you still and you grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes, “what’s wrong?” You smoothed his hair away from his brow, hoping the action would soothe him. His eyes were lidded but he looked at you, brows arched.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You cooed.

"I don't know what I'm doing." He muttered, shutting his eyes as soon as the words left his lips.

"What do you mean?" You questioned, pressing your lips to his forehead in a chaste kiss, "you’re supposed to sit and enjoy.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he sounded frustrated, his large hands falling to your hips, gripping you tightly, “I’ve…never done any of this before.” You paused, processing his words while stroking your thumbs over his high cheekbones. 

He’s never done this before? Had no one ever sucked his cock?

Did he mean…?

Oh. OH.

“You mean you’re a…?”

“Virgin. Yeah.” He finally said, dropping his into the plushness of your breasts. 

The last thing you assumed was that Miguel O’Hara was a virgin. The man was the very definition of confidence. You’ve seen how women acted around him. It never crossed your mind that he lacked any sexual encounters. But now it made sense. You’ve been dating Miguel for a few weeks and within those few weeks, you did nothing more than kiss like the world demanded it from you. That was fine; he was an excellent kisser.

Anytime it seemed like something more would come from the kissing, he’d stop, nipping it in the bud, saying he had work in the morning. He was a busy man and, well, that was that. You thought he never had much time for anything else.

But you understood now.

“Ahh Mig, nothing to be embarrassed about,” you said sweetly, brushing the tip of your nose with his, “we can stop if you want—”

“No!” He roared, bringing you down to his lap. You could feel his erection, hot and wet with your spit, pressing hard against your clothed core. You gasped, letting your hands fall to his shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, “Don’t wanna stop. Wanna feel you.”

“Yeah?” you breathed, eyes fluttering as he nibbled your skin, “a-are you sure? If you’re not ready then—”

“I’m ready,” He growled, pressing his brow against yours, “just thought you should know, cariño. Don’t want to disappoint you.”

You rode him for what felt like hours, his giant cock slamming into where you needed him the most. You ached from the stretch of him, your cunt swollen and raw, gushing all over his length. He was a moaning mess, biting every surface of you he could: your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones, your breasts. He was insatiable, cumming within minutes of your pussy swallowing his cock. Refractory period non-existent. He’d go again and again and again till he painted you completely with his spend and you were too fucked out to speak.

Nope. He didn’t disappoint. Not even a little.

#ask response #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #idk how i feel about this one but I hope you like it

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Patience

Thomas Disch: neil in the good omens game, is there a way to escape the dungeon without using the wizard's key? Neil Gaiman: ah! a very good question! Clive Barker: what? that's a terrible question Gaiman: ah but there are NO bad questions, clive Gaiman: curiosity is the rain that waters the seed of knowledge

Debbie Dadey: um excuse me sir neil gaiman but in Good Omens S2E42 aziraphale is shown performing the musubi dachi stance, but everyone knows that angels don't know karate Dadey:[pushing glasses up nose] i sure hope someone was fired for THAT blunder Gaiman: ah! a fine observation, thank you for sharing! Gaiman: so great to communicate with astute readers!

Gaiman: [putting gold star sticker on Dadey's forehead] i'm giving you a gold star for that Gaiman: in fact Gaiman: you all get gold stars! Koontz: oo! i want a gold star Gaiman: [putting gold star sticker on Koontz's forehead] and so you shall!

King: incredible! nothing flusters him! Poe: he's unflappable King: like the world's most patient kindergarten teacher Barker: no way, i don't buy it Barker: nobody's THAT patient Barker: i bet i could get him to snap Poe: clive

Barker: hey neil i've got a question Gaiman: yes? Barker: actually Barker:this is more of a comment than a question Gaiman: [sweating, veins in neck pulsing] ah yes, go on Poe: clive that's going too far

Neil Gaiman: you see dean Gaiman: you can see anything, do anything Gaiman: BE anything Gaiman: without ever leaving home! Dean Koontz: wowwww Gaiman: all you have to do is use your super power Koontz: my super power?? Gaiman: yes Gaiman: it's called Gaiman: IMAGINATION!!

Ray Bradbury: it was many years yonder when the open spaces were open and the blue skies were blue, and soda pop cost just a nickel and if you didn't have a nickel a smile would do, when you could see marshmallow dragons and candy corn castles in the clouds and you could do it all with the power of Dean Koontz: oh yeah imagination, i already know that Bradbury: and- what Koontz: yeah, neil gaiman told me Bradbury:

Ray Bradbury: listen neil i hear you've been going around extolling the power of imagination Neil Gaiman: ah imagination! the poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release- Bradbury: zip it bud Bradbury: there's ONE dream weaver in this town and that's me Bradbury: the limitless vista of a child's imagination ain't big enough for the both of us!!!

Bradbury: i have more child-like whimsy in my little finger, gaiman! Bradbury: and i will use it to paint a rainbow of nostalgic vibes that will have you crying! Bradbury: come at me, neil!! i'll make your childhood fuckin' magical!

Gaiman: wonderful, brilliant! just an excellent threat Gaiman: the craftsmanship of it was sublime, you should be very proud, ray Bradbury: Bradbury: are you Bradbury: are you being sarcastic? Poe: i don't think he knows how

Bradbury: you're so genuine, i can't stay mad at you Gaiman: perhaps, ray, there is room in the world of imagination for the both of us Gaiman: in fact, maybe there's room for ALL who seek to fly on the wings of a shared dream!

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #ray bradbury #neil gaiman #thomas disch #debbie dadey

[charlietheepicwriter7]

"Grandfather."

Ra's knew who the boy was the moment he'd snuck into the room. He'd allowed the child--more man than child now, but everyone was a child compared to him--moments to steel himself while Ra's refrained from acknowledging his presence. The boy's breath was barely audible but unsteady, and a drop of something fell to the floor.

His grandson was injured. "Danyal," he greeted and finally gazed upon him for the first time in seven years.

Danyal had grown into his father's height, yet stayed lean in regards to his musculature. His black hair had grown out of the League-regulation haircut, held back in a messy braid. He held himself as strong as he could, but kept an arm wrapped around his stomach. His shirt--standard American teenage garb, he dismissed--was spotted with blood and he could see bandages poking out from under the cloth.

With great care, Danyal knelt before the Demon Head and recited the Oath of Loyalty.

Ra's watched.

The boy's tongue, fat with English, spoke the League's variant of Arabic with the grace of a mace to the head, yet his words were clear. He took his time speaking the oath, carefully sounding out words, working hard to avoid mispronunciation. The Oath in question was the older version, from before Deathstroke's insurrection, but Danyal spoke it with a calm certainty that it would be accepted.

And without a doubt, it would be accepted.

Talia's eldest son had been born from her body instead of through science, a mistake that nearly cost her the child and damaged him upon birth. While the best doctors in the world saved his life, Danyal Al Ghul would always be weak in a fight, always prone to illness, always struggling to excel. When it became clear that the boy couldn't become the next Demon Head, Ra's sent Talia to create a replacement while arrangements were made for her first child to be taught business and science, for the betterment of the League. Danyal, very much his father's child, thrived in his intellectual pursuits while Damian grew and developed into a budding assassin.

But Danyal was more like his father than he'd ever knew. Ra's couldn't miss the signs of one of his family turning away from the League. Not the mission--Danyal had written several university level papers defending the environment by the time the boy was 10--but Ra's methods...

Ra's had a conundrum. Danyal was a dedicated conservationist; once the boy was an adult, Ra's was certain he'd take the world by storm and bring the League to new heights. But if he forced his methods onto Danyal, he could create an enemy of him, just as his father was.

Ra's gave Danyal an offer; Danyal would be allowed to leave the League and live a normal life if and only if he faked his own death in such a way that reinforced Damian's loyalty to the League of Assassins.

Danyal had been hesitant at first, but past his test with flying colors. Instigating one of the more unstable assassins into organizing a coup, cutting the insurgents off near immediately, but "dying" protecting both his younger brother and mother. It was a masterful performance. Even Talia hadn't known about the deceit.

And yet, here he was, on his knees, pledging loyalty. Danyal knew what that meant, knew what he was returning to, which morals he would be allowed to keep.

"And what do you bring with you, child of no one?" Why should the League accept the return of this child, who left once before?

Danyal met his eyes. "I bring with me, my team, who are loyal to me and me alone. I bring with me, research surrounding the Lazarus Pits, in origins and further uses for the waters." Ra's raised an eyebrow, and Danyal smirked. "I bring with me, my knowledge, nurtured within this very home and sharpened in the world outside. I bring with me, my weapons, built with my own hands. I bring with me... my body, finally healthy and whole." He brought his head down to the floor, trembling with pain. "I bring my whole self to the Demon's Head, for Him to accept or reject."

Ra's smiled. "By the shadows that guard our order and the blood that binds us, I accept this oath. From this day forward, you are an instrument of the League, a harbinger of justice, and a weapon in the hand of Ra's Al Ghul."

Danyal returned to his feet, swaying percariously. He needed immediate medical attention. Despite this, he continued, "Long live the League of Assassins. Long live Ra's Al Ghul."

And he collapsed onto the floor.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #headcanon that Ra's has information files on everyone and sometimes those files have baby pictures #bruce hacks into ra's files and finds his kids baby pictures which he thought were lost forever #prompt that inspired this is linked in the story #i made the whole “oath of loyalty” up off the top of my head #i thought ra's would have some pretentious ritual/oath to pledge loyalty to him/the league #c: ra's al ghul #c: danny fenton #danyal al ghul #Danny's lying btw #the league is just a good place to hide from all the government nonsense happening in the states #he chose the fentons specifically because of their research into ectoplasm #set up a situation where they'd feel compelled to foster him #and never left

[jokeringcutio]

Stepdad!William Afton x Reader - Christmas Present (WARNINGS:SMUT)

Warnings: Creampie, taboo, stepdad x reader, secret s*x, Daddy kink, Christmas Dinner, Secret touching, Fingering, Behind your mom's back, Praise kink, dd/lg, Dark William Afton/William Afton is not a nice man, Mutual agreeance & consensual intercourse.

AN: I don't know what I did, but this just came out. Not beta read but I am going to sleep now and I wanted to share this with you all. For quick links and more, see notes below.

The soft glow of Christmas lights bathed the room in a warm, inviting atmosphere. You sat at the table with your mom, stepdad William, stepsister Vanessa, and her new boyfriend Mike. The scent of roasted turkey and homemade stuffing filled the air, while laughter and cheerful conversation echoed around you.

Vanessa and Mike animatedly chatted about their budding relationship, beaming as they recounted their favorite dates and shared aspirations. Their love was palpable, and they seemed eager to impress your mom and William with their connection. It seemed to work, your mom seemed smitten with Mike and William hadn’t said a nasty thing to him all evening – which you considered a win.

"Hey," Vanessa said, turning her attention to you, "when are you going to get a boyfriend?" Your heart clenched, and words failed to form in your throat. She didn't know what had been going on behind closed doors.

"Yes, good question," William chimed in. “Your mom has been dying to get a grandkid or two,” he said, feigning concern.

You nearly spat your drink out and tried to look away. Especially as beneath the tablecloth, you felt his hand snake onto your upper leg, fingers brushing against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine, the ghost of his touch haunting you.

“Dad!” Vanessa cried out.

“Well, it’s true,” William said matter-of-factly, and you could tell from the corner of your eyes that your mother blushed. “I just want to see all my girls happy and settled. So, when will you bring home a nice boy for me to meet?” His voice dripped with insincerity. Bringing home a date was the last thing he was waiting for. He didn’t want to see you date, or risk losing you to anyone else.

The fingers on your legs dug possessively into your skin, a silent warning that you were already claimed.

His.

"Uh, I'm not sure," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact. "I've just been busy with work, you know?"

"Sure, but there's always time for love," Mike added, oblivious to the undercurrents at play. He didn’t know what was going on – none of them did. He couldn’t see how your stepdad’s fingers traced up your Christmas over-the-knee stockings until they met bare skin.

"Maybe one day," you murmured, forcing a smile. As the conversation moved on, William's hand remained on your leg, a sinister reminder of the secrets you shared.

It became hard to focus on dinner like that. With his palm hotly upon your flesh. Memories of your stepdad’s mouth on your skin, his possessive grip on your hips, and his whispered promises to keep your liaisons secret washed over you.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the colorful decorations and warm atmosphere as everyone continued eating, trying to ignore the sick knot forming in your stomach.

God, how could you want a man like him so badly? When you knew it was so wrong?

"Delicious turkey, Mom," you said, attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy. Your mother beamed with pride, but all the while, you felt William's hand inching further up your leg, like a spider crawling toward its prey.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she replied, oblivious to the tension that was slowly strangling the air around you.

"Great job with the table setting too," Vanessa chimed in, squeezing Mike's hand as they exchanged loving glances.

Yes, great. Excellent, you sardonically thought as your stepdad’s fingertip brushed past the crotch of your panties. A wet spot formed where his fingers brushed past your nub, the now damp material seemingly spurring him on, for his fingers became more insistent. Even going as far as to hook underneath the elastics of your panties at one point to dip a fingertip between your soaked folds. You flinched, knee banging against the underside of the table, and whispered a flustered apology while William dipped his finger a little deeper inside your cunt – as far as he could go from where he was seated really.

You met his heated blue gaze as you looked to your side, saw the way he watched you intently from behind his aviator glasses. He pumped inside of you a few times, just to the second knuckle, and then his finger slid out again.

The now wet digit remained on your naked thigh for the remainder of the meal, only leaving when William had to pass food around. You watched with fascination as the criminal digit stroked past one of the bowls, how his fingertip glistened with your juices and accidentally tapped against some of the lettuce inside.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you picked at your food, each bite feeling heavier than the last. Your core was like a fuzzy ball full of wires that all got tangled. Expecting your stepdad to touch you - and hating the fact that you wished he would.

When dinner finally ended, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from work. You escaped to your room, away from your stepsister and her happy relationship, away from your mother and her bright smiles. And most importantly, away from him.

You slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin as if they could protect you from the reality lurking just beyond your bedroom door. Sleep was elusive, your thoughts racing and your heart pounding in your chest.

The creak of the door opening sliced through the darkness like a knife, and your breath caught in your throat as you heard your stepdad’s familiar footsteps approaching. He stood beside your bed, his presence looming over you like a shadowy figure.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I came to deliver your present."

He wouldn’t even flick on the light, but you could see him illuminated by the glow of the streetlamps through the window. He was already naked, a bow wrapped around the base of his already erect cock. He held it in his right hand, stroking himself and brushing his thumb past the head, the slit already weeping pre-cum that glistened like white pearls in the dark. "I've been waiting for you all through dinner." He stepped closer until you felt the bed dip with his weight, resting a knee next to you on the mattress. You could feel his breath on your skin, hot and tantalizing.

"Are you ready for your present?" he asked, the gravelly tone of his voice making your stomach flutter.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak, but your body betrayed you, nodding in submission. The tension in the room was palpable, both of you knowing what was about to happen. You wore a nightgown with nothing underneath. As always. Easy access for Dad. Like Daddy’s good girl.

His hands found yours, gently guiding them to the ribbon around his shaft. Your fingers trembled, but followed his lead, slipping beneath the fabric to pull it off. Your fingertips gently stroked past his fevered skin, feeling the ridges and the veins and how his member throbbed at the slightest touch.

"Beautiful," he murmured, eyes raking over your flushed form before he pushed you down on the bed again.

He wasted no time, reaching out to touch you, fingers tracing delicate patterns across your sensitive flesh. You gasped, hips arching involuntarily as pleasure bloomed within you. The suddenness of it all was overwhelming, your mind racing with thoughts of guilt and desire. Your nipples peeked underneath your nightgown, his blue eyes drawn toward them. He lifted your gown to reveal your stomach and breasts, wasting no time in tasting your skin with his lips and his tongue.

You writhed underneath him in pleasure while his erection bobbed against your hip. The wish to just put it in there grew stronger and stronger with each flick of the tongue and each nibble of teeth.

Soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips as he kept your arms pinned down, hovering over you like a predator eating its prey. His lips moved lower, just when it became too much, and then his tongue flicked past your stomach to your core.

A yelp escaped you, and wetness gushed forth between your folds, making your core glisten in the light of the lamps from outdoors.

"Quiet,” he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to your inner thigh. "Your mother might be waiting for me in our room right now. You don’t want her to find us like this, do you?"

It took effort to shake your head and mutter a faint no, because he was driving you wild. Your core pulsed with slick, too empty and aching to be filled. You were drowning in sensation, sinking deeper into the abyss of forbidden lust.

"Please," you whimpered, no longer able to distinguish between want and need.

"Shh, you want to be Daddy’s sweet girl, right?" He cooed, pressing his lips to your trembling ones. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

And so he did. His hands roamed, his mouth tasted, and your body responded with an urgency you had never known. The world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the symphony of your ragged breaths and whispered moans.

"William," you gasped, as he finally positioned his hard cock at your entrance. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into his sweaty skin. “Daddy, please,” you begged him. “I wanna be your good girl. Fill me up, please, Daddy. I wanna be good for you.”

And with a grin that made his teeth glisten in the dark, he entered you, filling you completely. His thick cock spread your pulsing walls wide, pussy fluttering helplessly around his size as he bottomed out. His balls slapped against your skin as he moved out and then in again, nudging his cockhead deep inside your core and making you see stars.

It was such a delight. How you had missed feeling him inside of you like this. To be filled so completely by this man that your mother called her lover.

If only she knew.

William filled you completely, satisfying a primal need you wished you had never known as it became an addiction. It was a sensation that both terrified and exhilarated you.

"Say my name again," he demanded, eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear it."

"Daddy," you repeated, more firmly this time, feeling a surge of power as he shuddered above you.

The love you made was sweet and tender, yet laced with a darkness that could not be denied. Whispers of ‘my sweet girl’ and ‘Daddy’s good girl’ were accompanied by a pull of your hair or a thrust so rough it made your teeth chatter. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. And when you finally tumbled over, it was as if the world had shattered around you, leaving only fragments of pleasure and pain. Your walls fluttered around his cock, forcing him over the brink with you. A loud groan filled your ear and revibrated through your entire body.

As you lay there, panting and spent, your stepdad slowly moved up on his elbows and reached for something on your nightstand. The light blinked on and you had to close your eyes because of the brightness, bringing an arm up to your head.

His warm body withdrew from yours with a slick squelch. And then you felt his strong large hands as he pushed your legs open wide. You slowly recognized he reached for his phone, capturing the aftermath of your union. The sight of white globs of sperm leaking from between your legs seemed to bring him immense satisfaction, and he held the camera up close to capture it. The way your pussy pulsed in the aftermath, the way his seed was slowly pushed out and then sucked back in again by your body - a wicked smile graced his features as he recorded it all.

Then, once he was satisfied, he put the phone aside.

"Best Christmas present ever," he declared, his voice heavy with pride and possession.

You smiled up at him, cheeks flustered and eyes tired. You slowly pulled your nightgown back down, covering the fresh hickeys, love bites and bruises your stepdad just gave you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said, heart swelling with satisfaction when William’s blue eyes twinkled at your words.

“Good girl,” he said again.

You watched as he slowly raised himself from the bed and bent forward to seek for the Christmas ribbon. Once he found it, he pumped his cock in his fist a few times until it started to become erect again.

“Help me with this, will you?” he asked, holding out the ribbon for you to take. You sat up on the bed on your knees to help him, feeling how even more of his sperm seemed to leave your soaking-wet core. You bit your lip as you tied the ribbon around the base of his cock once more, creating a lovely bow, then carefully glanced up at him.

William caught your look and groaned. “Oh, honey, don’t look at me with puppy eyes like that. Makes me just want to ravish you again.”

He bent over to capture your lips in his own, cock still in his hand, pumping himself a few more times. When he broke the kiss and leaned back you could see how his cock was now back on the way to be fully erect again, and you bit your lip in desire.

“Much as I want to fill you up a second time, I got to tend to your mom first. Promised her a Christmas present as well.”

He must have seen the way your face fell – no one wanted to be reminded of their lover having sex with someone else, especially when they were family. But you had known something like this would happen. He was your mom’s husband after all. Not yours.

A gentle brush of his thumb past your lip and your gaze softened.

“What will you tell her about the wetness?” you asked, shyly gesturing at his cock which was still coated in your mixed juices.

William’s smile turned into a devious smirk. “I’ll just tell her I lubed up,” and then his hand ruffled through your hair. “Don’t worry, baby. Your still Daddy’s favorite girl.”

He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. The gesture should have been comforting, but it only served to remind you of the twisted reality you now found yourself in. You watched as your stepdad left the room and then cuddled underneath the blankets again. A smile slid on your lips and you closed your eyes.

Your stepdad knew how to give the best presents for Christmas ever. ~ AN: Merry Whatever you Celebrate.🥳 If you like this kind of filth, I have a lot more of Stepdad!Afton x Reader and more coming up. I also write for other interesting bad men such as slasher characters. If you are feeling generous - as it is the season of giving - you can always leave me a little thank you on my Ko-Fi  (: I'll post some quick links below to other works. My prompt box is still open, but I will be heading into the hospital at the end of December and depending on my treatment, I might have to close it in the near future. But I'll keep you up to date :) Quick links: ~~ Masterlist - Request Box -  Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

#william afton #william afton x reader #stepdad x stepdaughter #stepdad au #merry christmas filth #william afton x you #william afton x female reader #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #matthew lillard x reader #fnaf smut #older man x younger woman #This is smut

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

YAY ur back we missed u babes, did you see the kelce documentary trailer, where Travis is holding the lil baby and Jason is just like “like a football” like 🥹🥰🥹🥰🥹pls can you write a little blurb on that if u can 🤍

I did! I hope Travis gets to have his family soon because I know he's going to be an excellent father. This blurb is focused on the first night Travis and the reader brought Alex home from the hospital 🥹

The First Night

Travis knew football; it was his whole life. He had 10 years under his belt, along with the injuries to prove it, but he was only sure of two things in his life, and football was one of them. The other one was that he loved you with his whole being. He knew it wasn't much, but his love for you could move mountains, and it created a new life, a bundle of joy that somehow fit perfectly in his hands.

The house was calm and quiet as you slept; bringing Alex home had taken all of your energy. It was late, the sun was set to rise in a couple of hours, and Travis had only closed his eyes once in the last several hours. He just couldn't take his eyes off of his son, committing his face to memory. Even at only a few days old, Alex looked exactly like you, short of the big blue eyes he got from Travis.

Alex wriggled in Travis' hands, taking the first of many breaths in his new home as he slept peacefully, and Travis hoped that Bubba couldn't hear his heart beating out of his chest. The hard part was over, he thought. His son was home, you were healthy, his family was complete, and yet, he was terrified, realizing that the hard part was truly just beginning.

"Just like a football", Travis quietly chuckled to himself as his brother's words echoed through his mind. He had vivid memories of holding Bennett for the first time not that long ago, and how fragile she felt in his arms. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of cries escaping Alex's tiny mouth.

"Hey, hey, little man. What's wrong?", Travis whispered. The sound of Travis' gruff voice calmed Alex immediately, his eyelids fluttering as he self-soothed with the help of his pacifier.

"So, what do you think?" Travis looked around the dimly lit nursery, each piece meticulously picked out by you to match the cottage-inspired aesthetic you had been planning for the last nine months.

"We both hit the jackpot, Bubba", Travis admitted, as he pulled Alex up to lay against his bare chest. "You've got the best mama anyone could ever ask for. She makes me believe that I can actually do this whole 'dad' thing" Travis laughed as Alex grunted, "I know, I know, I can't believe it either. I promise you this though, I'll try with everything I have to be the best father I can be to you." He placed a gentle kiss on Alex's forehead.

"We've been waiting for you to arrive for quite a long time, bud." He grazed a gentle finger underneath Alex's chin. "I can't wait to see you smile for the first time, and take your first steps. I want to be here for everything just like my dad was for me."

"What are you two talking about?" You gave Travis a small smile when he looked over at you propped in the doorway.

"Uh, football. Just running Alex through some formations. I've got a legacy to protect, babe." Travis winks at Alex. "Isn't that right, bubba?"

Travis now knew three things for sure: football, loving you, and at this moment, he had never been happier.

Taglist:

@sporadicpaperchopshop

@marz22224

@rosesnothornes

@macey234

@amylouwho9

@jackharlowscumslut

@gloriousmessofagirl

@ctn26

@xangelonmyshoulderx

@livinginmyfantasies

@caelipartem

@savaneafricaine

@thatchigirl99

@sweetlittlethings15

@buonalima

@tk87kc

@m-1234

@marchmaiden

@questionable-behaviour

@queenisa17

@anacarangel

@tjkelce87

@giannalove9202

@vir-tual

@fearisthehandthatpullsourstrings

@bernelflo

@caroline334

@hufflewhore128

@urbanandjackfanpage

@trust-tequila

@lightsoutstyles

@luvvtrent

@aga21

@talicat713

@brixo

@mmb219

@queenravioli

@there-goes-thefighter

@kmc1989

@princessmermaid1289

@fantasywritersstuff

@kelcemenow

#travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #traviskelce #travis kelce #nfl fanfiction #nfl fanfic #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce fanfiction

[sukunasweetheart]

man, im thinking about sucking sukuna off underneath a desk during an important meeting... 

warnings; ceo sukuna, lots of teasing, degradation, rough throat fucking, hate?fucking, exhibitionism, throatpie (yay), implied rough sex at the end

you’re fondling and groping his cock over his pants until he gets hard, until you can see the visible bulge against the zipper, desperate to be let out. drag your fingertips down the still-clothed erection, making more precum leak out against his boxers. your hands do an excellent job at getting him all worked up.

once you’ve had enough of that, you then pull his zipper down, excruciatingly slow. you don’t want the others to hear anything, after all. once his cock is freed, you grin at its angry red tip and the bulging vein running along it. you palm sukuna’s heavy balls, playing around with them for a little before sucking them into your mouth. you’re painfully aware of how much he likes it when you use your mouth to warm them up. then, the tip of your tongue is dragged its way up, towards the head of his dick, where you lick off the pooling precum that’d been dripping since a while ago from his slit. 

above the desk, sukuna looks perfectly professional, doing his part as the ceo during this meeting, only an occasional jerk of his hips that is barely noticeable. internally, he’s already making plans on how to punish you for this later.

going back down below - you’re now softly sucking on his tip only, purposefully keeping the rest of his erection out of its haven, that is, your warm throat. the tangy taste of his drooling arousal continues to disperse itself on the surface of your buds and you can’t get enough of it, continuing to roll your tongue around his cockhead, in the way that you know drives him mad.

his facial expressions and body language can put on a facade all they want. he can display his false exterior and keep his voice firm all he wants. but his dick can’t lie now, can it?

when you take your lips off of it, you see how his cock throbs uncontrollably, almost begging you to keep going, until it’s release. you just have to stifle a giggle and admire its honesty. you gently blow air against him, being the ultimate tease.

behind sukuna’s closed mouth, he’s gritting his teeth, his patience running dangerously thin.

you repeat this vicious cycle, taunting his dick with your soft, warm tongue, refusing to take him in any deeper, and then releasing his tip from your mouth when he’s close to cumming.  this continues throughout the entire hour long meeting. it must be your imagination, but his balls seem a little heavier when you decide to give them another fondle a bit later.

towards the end, there’s a vein bulging out his forehead and an intimidating glare in his eyes. employees meekly trail out one by one, leaving the room in a hurry. sukuna orders uraume to lock the door on the way out. they don’t question the order, and does as they are told.

cut to the main event.

your hands are gripping, tugging at his clothes as sukuna fucks your throat raw. tears streaming, drool rolling down the corner of your mouth, you struggle to breathe as he mercilessly pushes past the back of your throat, balls hitting your chin lewdly.

“you’re a fucking whore, you know that?” he enunciates fiercely, meeting your eyes that still continue to somehow taunt him. you’re soaking wet down there.

the gurgling noises from your throat echo around the now empty meeting room, paired up with sukuna’s grunts and additional hisses of degradation. he loses a piece of his mind every time he feels you close up around him. 

“you sure had your fun playing around with my cock for an hour straight. let’s see if you can handle the same from me,” he mutters, continuing to use you without break. he chases after his long awaited, well deserved release.

sukuna’s breathing quickens, and his grip on your hair tightens as he gets close to his orgasm. fuck, fuck, fuck, he repeats in his head. he hates you so fucking much. he hates how desperate you make him feel. he hates how you are both the cause and solution to his problems.

while thinking such thoughts, he cums down your throat with his head lolled back, pushing himself balls-deep into you. your eyes roll back as his piping hot spend passes through your insides, splashing into your stomach. you swallow around his cock and sukuna can’t stop his hips from jolting.

when he slowly pulls out, you’re finally able to take a full breath properly. but even with your ruined makeup and tearstained cheeks, your lips curl up into a sly smirk, like you were the one finally satisfied.

oh, just what is he to do with a minx like you? he’s gotten himself involved with a terrible, crazy succubus.

“fuckin’ hell. you actually enjoyed that, didn’t you? you slut.”

you nod at him innocently, smiling up at him, being all cute.

you attempt to stand, but your knees buckle from being on them for so long, and he has to catch you to stop you from falling back.

“you alright?” the question comes out before he can stop himself.

“no...i’m not,” you mumble lowly, getting him to raise an eyebrow at you.

you grab his hand and place his palm onto your abdomen.

“i need you here,” you tell him, blinking your doe eyes at him. “i thought you said you were going to see if i could handle the same?”

oh, for fuck’s sake.

something snaps inside him - and he’s already laying you across the desk, ready to pummel your fucking pussy.

he hates you so much.

(lies.)

Masterlist

#this is the 289739973th time im writing abt sukuna being sucked off tbh but i just cant stop myself sorry #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[loaksky]

— 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦

the lowdown — the one where you’re breaking and neteyam picks up the pieces. 

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 2.1k

the tags & warnings — like two curse words, another really self-indulgent one because i miss neteyam sm heh, established relationship, neteyam is sweet as always and reader has a lot of thoughts / doubts. 

the notes — based off of this request! here is my word vomit because i have no self control lmaooo.

masterlist

No one in particular could tell, but the pressure was crushing you. 

It had started off small, the most minuscule of tickles behind your navel, a tiny niggling in your brain, the softest tension in your shoulders. 

Your parents were notable figures within the Omatikaya, had spent countless years toiling over action plans, working closely with Jake to ensure the safety of the people. 

And as you grew into yourself, into the role that was carved out and waiting for you, you’d begun to realize that there was a lot more riding on your budding relationship with the olo’eyktan’s son. 

You and Neteyam had grown up as friends, had trained diligently together against the landscape of years and years of conflict beginning to come to a head. And when the time had come for you two to begin focusing in more distinct areas of study, the widening berth couldn’t stop the feelings that were kindling. 

“Your heart is soft for Sully’s son.” Your father had made the observation out of the blue in your fourteenth year. 

You hadn’t denied it, couldn’t when his gaze was knowing and your mother couldn’t contain the smile that was creeping onto her lips. And you wouldn’t, of course you wouldn’t, not when the mere mention of Neteyam made your stomach swirl with butterflies and your cheeks insatiably warm. 

“Good,” your mother hummed. “This is good news.”

The fusion of questioning and embarrassment on your face made your father continue. 

“We think that after your coming of age, a union between you and Neteyam will be ideal for the future of the clan,” he said. 

You didn’t miss the insinuation. For the future of the clan, regardless of if your heart was soft for him or not. 

You had just swallowed around nothing and nodded, found that there was no use in arguing. Not when your parents seemed so pleased and you and Neteyam had a good thing. 

It was the first crack in your facade, when your father had left you and your mother in the tent and she repositioned to sit across from you. 

“Do you know what this means Maite?” she asked you carefully, thumb smoothing over your cheek. 

Your hesitation made her smile at you again. 

“You are excelling in your studies,” she’d said. 

The tension in your shoulders had softened the slightest when you saw the streak of pride, of warmth, in her eyes. You never wanted her to look at you any differently. 

“You have the power to be a very successful tsahik, Maite,” she said decisively. “Every day you make me proud. One day you will make the people proud.” 

You thought that you’d be able to grow into it, that the fears that were beginning to slowly culminate as each orbit arrived and went would be so insignificant. 

In turn, it grows with you, large enough to wrangle, but too large to squash. You don’t let it debilitate you, don’t want the people who are starting to pay closer attention to you, but more specifically Neteyam, to see that there’s an internal struggle. 

What would they think of you? Of your family? Of Neteyam’s and his? Honor was a dicey thing, something that could be disturbed at the drop of a hat. 

So you force a brave face among a worsening war, waging  nearer and nearer. The victories are small, losses smaller, and for a short while, you think that things could be alright. 

Especially when moments, few and far in between go undisturbed by the outside world. When you and Neteyam are given the freedom to bask in the tail end of your adolescence and start together in your young adulthood. 

He’s your calm in the unrelenting storm, your foundation when you feel like toppling over. 

So when the looming war arrives at your front step, and you feel like the fragile world you’ve built for yourself is on the brink of shambles, Neteyam is there. 

“We have to leave.” 

Your family sits inside of Mo’at’s tent with the Sully’s as Jake breaks the news that it’s ride or die. The future that you’d spent your entire life training for no longer lingers near, but has been blown so far out of reach, you begin to feel like it’s been all for nothing. 

“We move right after eclipse,” he announces. “Only important things, we have to travel light.” 

You’re stunned, frozen in your spot as the words sink their claws into you. 

He notices, Neteyam does, that the news seems to crack your facade even more. He can see it on your face. 

He calls your name softly, situating himself so that he sits in front of you. When you look up, he sees the tears pooling in your eyes and his body immediately softens. 

“Don’t cry,” he whispers, stroking your cheek gently. “It will be alright. We’ll be alright.” 

You wanted to believe him, you really did, and for a while, there was a sliver of hope, but life in Awa’atlu is different, an endless array of glittering blue waters and colorful reefs. Absolutely nothing like the forest that you grew up in. 

It doesn’t help that the villagers are all wary, watching you all like a hawk in every endeavor. You wish you could be more like Neteyam, like Tuk, who embrace their new life in stride, but Awa’atlu isn’t home. 

Home is oceans away and you feel disoriented, unable to wall yourself off with your duties whenever things get overwhelming because the dynamics here are different, too. Your future is treading a thin line and all you can do is try to assimilate as best you can. 

But you don’t know the way of water, can’t seem to grasp it no matter how hard anyone tries to teach you. And it makes the pressure infinitely worse, the tension nearly cracking your bones with how heavy it weighs on your shoulders. 

Tsireya’s lessons in breathwork never seem to stick as you frequently fall behind in your daily swims, messages lost in translation because the sign language is too vast for you to remember. Doesn’t help that your crafting using the reefs’ materials are subpar if Ronal’s narrowed scrutiny and Tsireya’s giggling is anything to go by. 

You’re so used to excelling, to being extraordinary despite the stress, but here, you feel like nothing under the crushing pressure. Feel it exceptionally so when you notice your mother’s concerned gaze and the eclipsing disappointment in your father’s. 

And you think that no one notices, not when Lo’ak is out causing trouble, Kiri is embracing the ocean, and Tuk is growing into the waters. You think you’re suffering in silence, but as always, Neteyam sees you. He always does. 

It’s on a particularly rough morning that you completely crack. 

It’s the smallest of offenses, something that you usually laugh off for the sake of peace, but Ao’nung is good at pushing your buttons and you’re missing the forest a little more than usual. 

“Damn, forest girl, it’s been months,” he teases, snatching the pouch you were in the middle of weaving to turn it over in his webbed fingers. “Still working on this old thing?” 

You swallow, unable to meet his gaze, not wanting to admit that the seaweeds they use to fashion things are too slippery, the salt stinging your fingers so much that they blister every session you sit down with your project. 

You want to tell him that if you were in the forest, you could weave five, ten of them before eclipse, but you’re on his turf and the forest is but a distant memory now. 

“Ao’nung,” his friend’s voice is warning. 

“What?” he guffaws. “Look at it! Babies weave better than this.” 

Your throat is locking up, eyes burning equal parts because the wind is blowing sand in your face and because you just want to go home.

“Ao’nung.” 

He gaze flits back to yours, teasing smile vanishing when he sees your clenched fists and the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Woah, woah,” he laughs uncomfortably. “I was just—“ 

You’re on your feet and scrambling away before the waterworks start, but you know that he’s seen them if the way he calls your name in defeat is any indication. 

You’d always been afraid of failure, but here it’s all you seem to know. 

You brush the tears away in hot pursuit of somewhere else, anywhere else but here in the moment. And you’re so engrossed in making sure you’re not tripping over the sprawling roots of the mangroves that you don’t even notice that Neteyam’s caught sight of you from across the way and abandons his task with Jake to follow after you. 

He doesn’t notice you’re upset until he realizes how tense your gait is and hears the hiccuping breaths that spill from your lips. 

“________?” he calls carefully, a few meters behind you as you climb and weave through the pathways.

You stop, frozen in place at the mere mention of your name, the soft timbre like honey. 

Embarrassment floods your system as you knuckle your eyes and try to compose yourself in the short strides it takes for Neteyam to invade your space. 

“Syulang?” He calls you by that stupid pet name you’d told him you hated and it makes you crumple. 

He’s coming around to face you, eyes wide when he sees how distraught you look, cheeks flushed and streaked with tears. 

“Hey, hey,” he calls softly, arms coming around you to pull you into his broad chest. “What happened?” 

You feel stupid, letting a dumb comment like Ao’nung’s be your final trigger, but you can’t help it. Not when you’ve been trying like hell to make it work, when you can’t seem to catch on like everyone else. 

Neteyam feels you shake your head and he sighs, pulling away from you gently to smear away your tears, forefinger and thumb grasp your chin to tilt your head to make sure that not a hair’s out of place. 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks seriously. 

You shake your head again and he seems to unwind a fraction. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he prods. 

“No,” you whisper. 

He kisses your forehead, arms wrapping around you when he feels your breath hitch and your shoulders shake all over again. 

“Wanna lay down?” he offers. 

You nod. 

The marui is empty nearly the entire day, Neteyam settled in the hammock first and your back nestled against his front as he shifts to allow the netting to swing. 

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, other arm caged across your front to hold the opposite. 

“I miss it,” you whisper hoarsely, after an indiscernible lapse of time. 

“Home?” Neteyam deduces. 

You nod. 

“Me too,” he admits. “All the time.” 

Another pregnant pause before he speaks again. 

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” he says, squeezing you tight. 

“I don’t know what for,” you murmur, hand covering his. “I haven’t done anything to be proud of.” 

“I’d argue otherwise,” he says quietly, voice a hairsbreadth from your twitching ear. “I know you’re struggling, ________.”

You take a shaky breath. 

“But you’re trying,” he continues. “No matter how difficult the situation, how hard it may be for you to adapt, you’re always trying.” 

You eye the threadwork of the marui’s hide, afraid that if you turn to face Neteyam you’ll break all over again. 

“Sometimes that is more noble than succeeding.” 

“Easy for you to say,” you argue quietly. “Everything was effortless for you. You just dove right in and took the reins.” 

You feel Neteyam press his cheek to the top of your head, shifting so that he can fully engulf you in his hold. 

“Nothing is easy when you see the person you love fight battles they don’t need to endure alone,” he says simply. “You’re a strong girl, ________. But it’s okay to ask for help. If no one else will be there, let it be me.” 

You want to protest, but Neteyam’s speaking again. 

“Regardless of if we return to the forest or not, it will always be me and you,” he says. “I’ll never leave you hanging.” 

And you know he won’t, know that while you and Neteyam breathe the same air, he will always be there to fill the fissures in your facade. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling weak and hopelessly vulnerable in front of someone who’s only ever seen you on the brink. 

“You don’t need to apologize for feeling,” he tells you, pressing a hand over your heart. “Because this right here is the mightiest thing about you.” 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr , @neteyamoa , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts , @athenachu

#neteyam x reader #neteyam drabble #neteyam fic #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam oneshot #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #atwow

[cosmicconnectionz]

Venus Signs and their Love Expressions 💖

✨ Venus in Aries: With the fiery energy of Aries, individuals with this placement express love through dynamic actions that keep the excitement alive. They're the ones who will surprise you with spontaneous road trips to uncharted destinations, whisking you away from the mundane routine and infusing a sense of adventure into your relationship. Their passionate nature translates into affectionate displays, whether it's stealing kisses during a thrilling outdoor activity or sending you bold, flirtatious messages that make your heart race. These Aries lovers thrive on the thrill of the chase, reveling in the process of pursuing your heart and making you feel like the center of their world. While their impulsive nature may lead to occasional fiery arguments, their ability to make up just as quickly keeps the passion burning strong.

✨ Venus in Taurus: Grounded and sensual, those with Venus in Taurus express love in ways that appeal to the senses. They believe in the power of touch, creating an intimate connection through physical affection that ranges from gentle caresses to indulgent massages. Their love language involves preparing exquisite meals that tantalize your taste buds, turning mundane evenings into romantic culinary experiences. These individuals excel at turning their living spaces into cozy nests, where you'll find solace and security amidst soft blankets and scented candles. Their unwavering commitment and steadfast loyalty create a foundation of trust, making you feel cherished and adored. While they may be prone to occasional stubbornness, their enduring affection keeps you anchored in the warmth of their love.

✨ Venus in Gemini: Communication is key for those with Venus in Gemini, as they express love through engaging conversations that spark curiosity and connection. They'll send you thoughtful messages throughout the day, filled with witty remarks and intriguing questions that keep the dialogue alive. Their love language involves exploring your mind together, delving into intellectual topics and sharing insights that deepen your bond. These individuals thrive in social settings, and they'll introduce you to new experiences and people that broaden your horizons. Their playful nature shines through as they engage in light-hearted teasing and inside jokes that create a unique world of togetherness. While their ever-active minds may lead to occasional distractions, their genuine interest in your thoughts and feelings remains a constant source of affection.

✨ Venus in Cancer: Nurturers at heart, those with Venus in Cancer express love through acts of caring that make you feel safe and supported. They have an intuitive understanding of your emotions, offering a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on during both joyous moments and challenging times. Their love language involves creating a comforting sanctuary, whether it's through home-cooked meals that evoke childhood memories or cozy movie nights cuddled up on the couch. Their unwavering loyalty and dedication create a bond that withstands the tests of time, making you feel like you have a true partner in every sense of the word. While their sensitivity may lead to occasional mood swings, their genuine empathy and nurturing nature make you feel truly cherished.

✨ Venus in Leo: These passionate individuals express love through grand gestures that make you feel like royalty. Their love language involves showering you with compliments that boost your confidence and make you feel truly special. They have a flair for the dramatic, whether it's organizing surprise parties that celebrate your achievements or creating artistic displays that capture the essence of your connection. Their affectionate nature shines through in public displays of affection, proudly showing you off to the world and making you the center of attention. Their unwavering loyalty and fierce protectiveness create a sense of security and belonging that strengthens your bond. While their need for recognition may lead to occasional clashes, their undeniable love and devotion always take center stage.

✨ Venus in Virgo: Practical and detail-oriented, those with Venus in Virgo express love through thoughtful actions that demonstrate their dedication. They have a keen eye for your needs and will go above and beyond to ensure your comfort and well-being. Their love language involves acts of service, whether it's planning meticulously organized dates or offering a helping hand in times of need. Their commitment and reliability create a sense of stability in your relationship, making you feel like you can always count on them. Their thoughtful gestures, from leaving little notes of appreciation to organizing your belongings, show their genuine care and affection. While their perfectionist tendencies may lead to occasional nitpicking, their unwavering support and practical love keep your connection strong.

✨ Venus in Libra: With a natural sense of harmony, those with Venus in Libra express love through creating a balanced and aesthetically pleasing environment. They have a knack for planning romantic getaways that rejuvenate your connection and infuse your relationship with a sense of enchantment. Their love language involves engaging in thoughtful discussions that explore the depths of your emotions and viewpoints, fostering a strong intellectual and emotional bond. Their charm and social grace shine through as they introduce you to new experiences and people, expanding your horizons together. Their commitment to fairness and compromise creates a partnership built on mutual respect and consideration. While their indecisiveness may lead to occasional challenges, their genuine desire for harmony and connection prevails.

✨ Venus in Scorpio: Intense and transformative, those with Venus in Scorpio express love through deep emotional connections that delve into the core of your being. Their love language involves exploring the depths of intimacy, sharing their darkest secrets, and forging a bond that transcends the ordinary. They're fiercely loyal and protective, standing by your side through thick and thin, creating a sense of trust that forms the foundation of your relationship. Their passionate nature shines through in their intimate physical experiences, creating a connection that goes beyond the surface. Their unwavering dedication and willingness to explore vulnerability make you feel truly seen and understood. While their intensity may lead to occasional power struggles, their profound love and unwavering commitment always bring you back together.

✨ Venus in Sagittarius: Adventure and exploration define the love language of those with Venus in Sagittarius. They express love by taking you on exciting journeys, both physically and mentally, as they share their thirst for knowledge and new experiences. Their love language involves engaging in philosophical conversations that expand your horizons and challenge your perspectives. Their adventurous spirit shines through as they plan spontaneous getaways and introduce you to cultures and ideas that enrich your lives. Their sense of humor and lighthearted approach create a dynamic connection filled with laughter and joy. While their love for freedom may lead to occasional moments of independence, their boundless enthusiasm and zest for life always bring you back together.

✨ Venus in Capricorn: Practical and committed, those with Venus in Capricorn express love through building a stable and secure future together. They approach love with a sense of responsibility and dedication, creating a partnership grounded in shared goals and long-term planning. Their love language involves creating enduring traditions and routines that strengthen your connection over time. Their reliability and steadfastness create a sense of security, making you feel like you have a partner who will weather any storm by your side. Their ability to provide practical solutions and steady support makes them a pillar of strength in your life. While their focus on work and ambition may lead to occasional moments of distance, their enduring love and commitment always shine through.

✨ Venus in Aquarius: Unconventional and open-minded, those with Venus in Aquarius express love by celebrating your uniqueness and fostering a deep mental connection. Their love language involves engaging in thought-provoking conversations that explore innovative ideas and social causes. They show affection by supporting your individuality and encouraging your creative pursuits. Their willingness to stand by your side in advocating for change and making a positive impact on the world creates a bond that goes beyond the ordinary. Their progressive nature shines through in their ability to embrace diversity and challenge societal norms, making your relationship a space where you can both grow and evolve. While their need for independence may lead to occasional moments of solitude, their unwavering friendship and intellectual companionship always draw you back together.

✨ Venus in Pisces: Their love is a beautiful dream woven with compassion and deep emotional connection. Those with Venus in Pisces express love through creative expressions that evoke profound feelings. Their love language involves sharing intimate moments of vulnerability and empathy, creating a sense of emotional closeness that transcends words. They'll write heartfelt letters and poems that capture the essence of their feelings, and they'll plan romantic escapades that allow you to connect on a soulful level. Their intuitive nature enables them to understand your unspoken emotions, providing comfort and solace when you need it most. Their willingness to explore the spiritual and mystical aspects of life creates a unique and ethereal connection that defies the ordinary. While their sensitivity may lead to occasional emotional tides, their unconditional love and deep emotional bond always guide you back to each other.

#astro notes #astro community #astro observations #astrology #venus #venus signs #horoscope #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Short Stories: Paparazzi

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Idol! Afab Reader

Author’s note: this is a social experiment and a bit different than what I normally write. If it takes off, I’ll write another part to it

Buy me a coffee? 💕

“Cause you know that, baby, I… I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me.”

Slam! Hanayama slammed the door open when he finally made it up to his room. His eyes nervously glanced around to make sure none of his subordinates followed him here.

Once he noticed no one was around, he scurried into his room and quietly shut the door behind him.

Hanayama Kaoru had a secret, the type of secret he’d kill anyone if they found out. Hanayama was a wota and he was obsessed with a pop idol by the name of (your name).

And today, he was able to get Kizaki to buy her latest merch drop… a poster. Hanayama carefully unwrapped the cling wrap off the poster so his eyes could admire the excellent photo of his oshi. She was so pretty…

Hanayama glanced at his bedroom walls that were covered in posters and various collectible merch. He didn’t have any wall space but he hasn’t put any posters on the ceiling so that should work. Honestly, that made it even better.

Hanayama grabbed some tape off his dresser and got to work. The poster now hung on his ceiling so he could admire his idol’s magnificence before he went to sleep and when he woke up. Perfect.

Hanayama flopped onto his bed, his arms clutched the body pillow of (your name) in his arms. He’s had the biggest crush on her since high school…

Hanayama closed his eyes and reminisced the moment he first heard her music when he was younger… it was when one of his classmates loaned him their ear buds and her music played. (Your name) wasn’t very big yet, she just came onto the pop scene. But her voice was what drew him in.

Hanayama rushed home that day and told Kizaki to buy him (your name)‘s CDs. That was the start of his journey of being her biggest fan.

Now Hanayama was twenty five. He tried to have a few relationships but he couldn’t tear away from his idol. Not even when he bedded other women. (Your name) was always on his mind. Hanayama felt like he was being disloyal to her… even though (your name) probably didn’t even know his existence.

Hanayama wanted her more than anything. Despite his stoic exterior, he was full of emotions… but only for his idol and his handful of friends.

Hanayama shot upright in his bed in realization. He almost missed her interview today! Today, they were going to get (your name) to talk about her ideal man and Hanayama could not miss it. And how would he know that? That’s because Hanayama paid this specific interview station to ask his question because he had submitted it for years. He needed to know…

Hanayama turned his tv on, his large body scrunched up into a ball. His arms held the body pillow close to his form for comfort. He was a bit afraid of what she’d say… what if he didn’t meet those standards? Would he be able to move on and live a normal life?

Hanayama silently watched the interview. His eyes sparkled as he watched the young woman smile and wave into the camera, her soft voice soothed him… how could someone be so pretty?

“Despite being a foreigner, you’ve really made a name for yourself, miss (your name)!” The interviewer beamed at the young idol, her smile never left her face.

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without my fans.” Hanayama almost squealed in excitement when she made a little finger heart to the camera. She was so cute! How could someone be so cute?

“Now this is a long awaited question for you, miss (your name).” The interviewer smiled at the young woman. “One your number one fan has been dying to know.”

(Your name) giggled, which made Hanayama’s heart soar. This was it! He would finally have his answer soon…

“And what do they want to know?” (Your name) smiled ever so sweetly, she batted her eyelashes a bit. Hanayama nearly fainted on the spot.

“What is your ideal man, miss (your name)?” The interviewer asked, which made (your name)’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh wow… I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that on such a big platform.” Hanayama blushed at how flustered (your name) was. Gosh his idol was so cute…

(Your name) took in a deep breath. “I like a man who is well dressed and preferably taller than me…” (Your name) smiled sheepishly before she continued, “I think I’d like them to be strong to, I’d like to be carried like a princess.”

Hanayama stopped breathing, his whole body trembled. Well dressed, tall, and strong? That was him… he was her type.

“Carried like a princess?!” The interviewer laughed which only made (your name) more flustered.

“I always dreamed of that… I’d like to be taken care of like a dainty, little doll.”

Hanayama rose up from his bed and pumped his fist in the air. His body filled with excitement. He was her type!

Hanayama would care for her and carry her around everywhere if she asked! Whatever she wanted-

Hanayama turned his head to see Kizaki standing in the door way. His right hand man cleared his throat.

“I’m so sorry to bother… whatever this is, but you have a letter from the venue (your name) is performing at-“ Kizaki sighed when the letter was snatched out of his hand. Hanayama was such a child sometimes… despite him being a grown man now.

Hanayama opened the envelope and smiled at its contents. He had successfully booked the entire VIP section… which would keep his identity a secret.

“I heard you’ll be dropping new merch tonight. What are you going to be dropping today?” The interviewer draw Hanayama’s attention back on the screen. New merch?

“It’s some limited edition photo cards!” (Your name) smiled at the interviewer. “It’s just a few pictures of me and my group.”

Hanayama turned to Kizaki who sighed. Kizaki could tell by Hanayama’s face that he wanted that book.

Kizaki nervously glanced around Hanayama’s room. Where was he even going to put it?

Hanayama continued to stare at Kizaki until the man bowed in defeat. It was time to make a trip to the store.

“Alright… I’ll go get it.” Kizaki then left Hanayama to his own devices. The yakuza boss turned his attention fully back into the tv.

Hanayama reached a finger out to touch (your name)’s face. What he wouldn’t give to finally touch her in real life…

This was going to be the first time he’d be able to see her in person… he was so excited to see her.

He could not wait…

.

.

.

“Here for the latest drop? I saved you a set, specifically just of (your name). ” The store manager asked Kizaki, which made the older man sigh. The manager chuckled. “You’re such a great dad. You’ve been here consistently for over ten years. Your son must be a huge fan!”

More like a huge pain in the- Kizaki shook that thought from his head. Hanayama was a great leader, he was just a bit… odd when it came to this particular woman. Perhaps that was just Hanayama’s generation of being obsessed with celebrities. It hurt Kizaki’s head to think about it.

“He is…” The manager nodded and handed Kizaki the set of photo cards.

“Well he must be grateful to have you! Please enjoy.” Kizaki nodded stiffly. He hated this so much… “I’ll see you next week for the next drop!l

Kizaki hated that everyone in this store knew who he was. Hanayama was lucky Kizaki looked like a civilian. Otherwise they’d be in a mess if people were aware they were yakuza.

“Have a great day! See you next week!”

Kizaki grumbled a bit. This was an abuse of power… He deserved a raise.

.

.

.

Hanayama nervously sat in the VIP. He had it all blocked off so no one could see him other than (your name) and her group from the main stage.

He nervously fiddled with the backstage pass around his neck as well as the jacket to his white suit. Hanayama made sure to wear one of his best suits, no matter how tempted he was to wear merch. Hanayama had to maintain his ‘cool’ image despite the raging fan from within.

Hanayama adjusted his glasses, a round hand fan tightly clenched in his hand with (your name)’s smiling face on it. This was the smallest pleasure he’d allow himself…

Hanayama’s breath hitched when he saw (your name) get onto stage with her group, her smiled looked even more beautiful in person…

Hanayama watched her start to perform, his complete attention on her jovial form. Hanayama could tell she enjoyed what she did for a living… it’s another reason why he adored her so much.

Hanayama held out his palm and imagined her dancing on his palm. His body relaxed at that thought. He wished they could be together so desperately but their worlds were so very different…

Hanayama froze when (your name) made her way over towards the VIP, his heart drummed in his chest when their eyes locked on one another. Hanayama stood up and automatically went towards the stage. (Your name)’s presence was magnetic.

The world felt as if it stopped when her entire attention was on him while she sung and danced. It was just him and her despite the sold out stadium… him and his idol.

Hanayama flipped over the fan to show off the back of it that said, “will you be my onee-chan?”

(Your name) paused for a second, but then she gave him a smile so sweet that it could make teeth rot. Her hand went up and gave him a finger heart.

Hanayama fell to his knees when she sauntered away to continue her performance. His hand clutched his heart to try to calm the drumming of her heart that begged to burst from his chest to dance with her. His cheeks burned like a fire from how hot they were.

(Your name) was the only woman in the world who had such an effect on the normally stoic man.

After a decade, he finally was able to see his idol in real life… and it was more magical than he could have ever imagined.

Soon… he’d get to speak with her.

.

.

.

(Your name) adjusted her appearance in the mirror of her dressing room. Her body trembled a bit in anxiousness.

When they told her that her number on fan had rented out the entire VIP section, she had assumed they were an older woman or man… not a crime boss.

(Your name) shivered at how scary he was. His face was littered in scars and he was as big as a barn. She had snuck a glance at the receipt in her manager’s hand and found out his name was Hanayama Kaoru and he was twenty five years old.

Despite his mature appearance, he was a year younger than her, which fascinated her a bit. Hanayama seemed like such a no nonsense man… why on earth was he here to see her perform?

“(Your name), your number one fan is here.” (Your name) tried her best not to role her eyes at the sarcasm one of her group members exuded.

(Your name) took in a deep breath and put on her game face. It was fine… she could do this.

(Your name) rose from the vanity chair to go greet Hanayama. The giant man awkwardly stood outside the room, he looked so out of place that it was almost comical.

“Hello, are you Hanayama?” (Your name) smiled at him, his red cheeks and ears made him slightly endearing. He was kind of cute in a way…

Hanayama bent down a bit until he was her height, his large hand scooped up hers and gave the back of her knuckles a tender kiss.

“My name is Hanayama Kaoru,” Hanayama looked up, his obsidian eyes now visible since she was up close. “And I’m your biggest fan.”

#baki x reader #yandere imagine #female reader #yandere fic #yandere #yandere baki #baki the grappler x reader #kaoru hanayama x reader #baki kaoru hanayama #hanayama kaoru #yandere hanayama kaoru #yandere hanayama #Yandere kaoru #kaoru hanayama #hanayama kaoru x reader #Yandere fan #yandere fanfiction #baki fanfiction #baki fanfic #aged up characters #tw.yandere #fluff

[priceyprice]

Prof!Price

18+

Prof!Price as he's sitting behind his desk in his professor office.

His class is in 20 minutes, waiting for the printer to copy the last minute quiz for the students and see how much they're learning with his works and his passion.

Professor Price is a responsible man. You'll never see him late for something. If he won't be able to make it, he'll call in advance to make sure whoever he's meeting doesn't have any worries or don't waste their time waiting for him. It is not a surprise seeing Price earlier than the hour expected.

He's also good with suggestions. He can suggest any book, a good restaurant, a good country, and even an excellent person. He would recommend anyone or anything that's fit for the role they asked him.

If other teachers asks him about who's the best student in his class, he would have in mind just one person.

Obviously, that person can't fail him.

"W-Wait..." She said as she threw her head back in ecstasy. "I-I can't ans...answer if you're like th...like this oh my-..."

Price stopped kissing her. His head appeared from under her skirt as he looked up at her. "Mmm... That's not the answer I'm looking for. Try again."

He went again in between her legs as his tongue licked a straight line through all her sensitivity. She lets out a little whimper and wriggled, feeling the uncomfortable desk below her. "Wh-why ar... ah... are we doing this...?"

"You're my best student." He said, kissing her inner thigh, marking it with a little bruise. "I need to make sure my student is well prepared for her quiz and doesn't let down my word of trust I put on her with other professors." Price said as he let out a little laugh. She almost collapsed when she felt his hot breath all over her.

Truth be told, he just wanted to eat his lover out before class starts. The bonus points are the favoritism he has that let her see the questions of the quiz.

He sucked her bud like it was the last time he would be between her legs. Her wetness is getting stronger by the second as she's starting to feel the familiar heat below her stomach. "Now tell me again... According to the book, what happened to her when she saw him at the cliff?" He said before his tongue entered her insides. She lets out a moan as one hand flew to his head, fingers locking around his short hair and the other crumbling the paper with the questions and answers. "Lord... Price I can't... it's too mu-..." She cried before she could even finish her sentence.

"No, my love, it's not too much. You can take this. Now answer the question." He said groaning, savoring the sweet and salty taste of her essence. His pants were about to burst in any second. He wanted to make love to her and treat her as she deserves, but they don't have the time for that.

His tongue picked up again the pace, giving her rapid thrusts as his hands adjusted the grip on her thighs. John's pretty sure his fingers will be leaving marks and bruises, but he doesn't care. He will take care of it later in his bed.

She moans loudly, raising the probability of getting caught by someone passing through his office. "Oh... I'm close. I'm very close..." Her eyes getting watered with the feeling of the familiar knot in her belly. "Slo... Slow down... no, I'm too close... Fuck... I'm..." At this point, she couldn't even say something coherent, her mind clouded with an intense pleasure.

His tongue didn't stop at her remarks. Price just picked up the pace, going faster. "Come for me, my love. Let me feel you."

Those words snapped something inside of her.

She cried loudly when her orgasm broke. Waves went through her body, making her a shaking mess with pure bliss. Her juices went all over his lower face, and he drank it like a fine wine only made for him.

She collapsed on his desk, looking at the ceiling of his office. Chest rising up and down as if she was running a marathon. The hand that was on Price's hair started caressing his head, thumb grazing his ear softly. Her eyes closed for a second, liking the feeling of his hair in her hand.

There is nothing better than getting tongue-fucked by your professor in his office, she thought with a sarcastic emotion.

Three knocks on the door made her jump slightly. Her heartbeat went up within a second, leaving no rest to her breathing.

Someone is there.

She tried to get out of his grip, but he held her steady in that position. "Price, there's someone knocking on your do-...Ah fuck-..." She flew one of her hands to her mouth when his tongue entered her sensitive hole again without any warning.

"Jo... John, what are you doing?!" He stopped kissing her, peering over her skirt for a second. "There's someone on your door and you-..." Her sentence got interrupted by a moan when he sucked her sensitive folds all over again.

"You didn't answer my question." He said in a serious tone, angry at the person behind the door, interrupting his precious time with her. He doesn't care who's waiting for him. The only thing that matters is her right now. "Tell me what happened to her when she saw him at the end of the cliff."

She puts her elbows on his desk to get some support to look at his eyes filled with hunger and lust. "Are you serious-... Oh my..." She threw her head back again, letting out a little cry when his tongue licked from her hole to her clit.

"Tell me, hurry up."

Her mind was clouded again with the feeling of his tongue only. Is incredible how much control he has over her, how much he knows about disconnecting the only string of her consciousness, and only bringing her to a stage of pure ecstasy.

She opened her mouth only to let out a whimper. "Shh..." He said, tapping her thigh, a gesture he does when he wants to silence her. "You better start answering before they know that you're in your professor's desk with legs wide open, showing him where you like his mouth."

Three knocks again made her fear grow bigger. She doesn't know why he's taking this situation in a slightly matter. Just a simple door is hiding the person from seeing this scandalous scene.

But also, it excites her.

The feeling of her professor and her lover not wanting to let her go with his hands on the soft flesh of her thighs gripping her with so much force is driving her crazy.

"J-John... no..." His tongue picked up the pace he had earlier, her back arching from the surface of the desk. "Price... Okay I'll-...I'll sa-... ah... say it." She bit her lip, trying to stop a moan from the depths of her throat.

"Go on."

"Fuck... She collapsed... She collapsed at the same time... he jumped into... into the cliff." His mouth cut any contact, shivering when cold air hits her as her chest was rising and falling fast, letting her catch a long breath. Before she can process what's happening, his hands takes her underwear, putting it back on.

Price helped her get off his desk. She gets off but places her hands on his arms, trying to look for some support to her wobbly legs. He puts an arm around her waist, holding her steady.

"Be careful, my love. I don't want you to fall."

She looks up at him with disoriented eyes, still trying to get down from that cloud of ecstasy. She looked so beautiful, with her hair in a few directions, a few strands plasted in her sweaty forehead and a cute little blush, as if Claude Monet took his time to pick the most beautiful red for her to mark her cheeks. He almost forgets the person behind his door, waiting for his approval to come in.

Price kissed her softly and took her hands. "I need you to get under my desk and wait until that person is gone. Can you do that?" She nodded, looking at him. She went down on her knees and crawled under his desk as he sat down, with her between his legs.

Price adjusted his hair and shirt, cleaning the remnants off and making it seem like he wasn't eating someone on top of his desk a few seconds ago.

Suddenly, a little hand comes up to his leg, and a head rests on his inner thigh. He tensed at first but relaxed when he saw what she was doing.

She was hugging him.

Fuck the emotion he was feeling was beyond universe. She's so cute. He loved her so much.

He rests a hand on top of her head, caressing her hair softly. "I love you." He said with a little smile.

"I love you too."

Price cleared his throat, getting his attention back to his door.

"Come in."

The doors opens revealing one of his colleagues and friends, who interrupted his precious time with his lover. "Vargas, Good evening. I apologize for making you wait. I was talking with a colleague on the phone and I couldn't hear you."

"Price, hermano, I'm surprised to see you here." Said Mr. Vargas with his eyes wide. John just raised an eyebrow at his comment.

"What do you mean? This is my office."

The professor checked his gold watch, glasses slipping off his nose while his head was tilted down. "Your class starts in 10 minutes, I think you're a little late."

Price's smile dropped a for a second at that. Fuck... he hates being late to his class.

Price is that kind of professor to be in the classroom 30 minutes before class starts so he can prepare everything and make things go smoothly. But right now, he doesn't have anything except the bunch of copies lying on his printer.

He won't blame himself nor the person under his desk. If it means eating her out and pleasuring her, it will be an honor to be late every day for the rest of his life.

This wasn't the first time to be almost caught in a situation like this. Sometimes they're very cautious with everyone and everywhere, but other times... things like that happens and Price needs to hide her under his desk or in a closet and try to finish his conversations with the other people.

"Bloody hell, I'm late."

Vargas laughed at that, but his expression was quickly replaced with one of confusion and curiosity. "What's that on your beard?"

Price touches his beard with his other hand and nearly froze at the sensation.

It was soaked.

He totally forgot about that detail.

The hand that was caressing her hair puts a little more pressure on. She was frozen on the spot with that question. "Oh, this?... I was drinking water before you entered and accidentally spilled it out."

Of course, he would say something like that. How can Price explain that his soaked beard was thanks to the woman under his desk, with a really notable expression of being eaten out?

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

The masterlist for this series is here: ( John Price Masterlist )

I apologize for any mistakes or misspelling. Any suggestions are appreciated. 🫶

#cod 141 #captain price #john price #john price x reader #cod mw2 #task force 141 #141 x reader #prof price #professor price #fanfic #141 smut #john price smut #mw2 141 #captain john price #captain john price smut #price smut

[hawnks]

You’re called into your boss’s office that morning. You’ve always had a decent relationship; your work record is one of efficiency and professionalism, if not innate talent.

The past few weeks have certainly put a strain on that, though.

You’re only fractionally surprised to see Satoru Gojo there when you arrive. You’d warned him you couldn’t be at his beck and call today, that you have a back pile of work that is growing more urgent by the day. He was uncharacteristically apathetic to this. No pouting, no plotting. He let you clock in without interference, for once.

He was supposed to be out working the whole day, anyway— a dungeon, A-rank, a mission that might be strenuous for even him.

The fact that he’s done several hours early is…concerning.

As a B-rank guide, it’s uncommon for you to receive ESPERs in trouble. Your job is mostly maintenance, picking up the slack for higher ranking guides. But even you notice the signs of corruption budding here.

Gojo is grinning at you, silly and coy as always. But his skin is sallow, his eyes lit with unspent power, almost glowing in the fluorescent light. When he waves at you, the veins in his arm are prominent. Every muscle in his body is tense. His weight is canted forward.

Like he’s about to grab you.

You’re about to ask him a question when your boss speaks.

“You’ll be working under Gojo from now on.”

Gojo snickers at the wording. You balk.

Your contract states clearly that you would only guide those with a higher ranking than you in the case of an emergency. To do so regularly would put a strain on both you and the ESPER’s bodies.

Oddly, this has never been a problem for you and Gojo, a fact that he relishes in. He reminds you of it almost daily. You were made for me. We were made for each other.

Your contract, your work with other ESPERs, has always been a neat little excuse. You don’t belong to him. You can’t. Guides are too rare, and in too high demand.

He tried to lure you away from all that. Promised you money, influence, excellent sex. Anything, everything. That was, perhaps, the problem. He holds the world in the palm of his hand, overwhelmingly powerful.

He frightens you.

“That’s not possible,” you say. Your perfect defense. “I signed a contract.”

“And there is a clause in that contract in case of extenuating circumstances,” your boss reminds you.

Gojo reaches for your hand— you don’t know when he got close enough to touch. He brushes your knuckles against his cheek. His skin is cold.

“No one else is allowed to guide me,” he tells you. “No one else is allowed to touch me. Only you. My partner.”

An ESPER on the brink of corruption, refusing guidance. It’s unheard of, goes against the very nature of the relationship between guide and ESPER. Of course, Gojo never was one for conventionality.

And now, he is the emergency.

#guideverse #cw yandere #-w-

[bangtanintotheroom]

Birthday Licks (M)

• Pairing: Felix x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Smut, Established Relationship

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 1.4k

• Summary: What better gift to give your boyfriend something he’s always wanted, but didn’t know he needed?

• Warnings/themes: 🎵 birthday sex, birthday sex 🎵, lingerie, making out, handjobs, nipple play, hint of sub!Felix, c*mshot (hand), mentions of facesitting

• Notes: A bit late, but here’s a birthday drabble for my sunshine boy! 🎉 Please don’t ask me why this specific idea came to me for Felix, just take it and read, okay? Okay 😶✨

• Notes (2): And thanks to @minttangerines for looking it over for me! 💖

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp

It’s a special guy’s birthday today and even though he insists on not doing anything drastic, you go all out.

Breakfast in bed, presents that you spent a little too much on and playing multiple rounds of League of Legends with Felix until both of your eyes start to strain. A perfect day spent indoors.

After digesting a filling dinner and dessert that the two of you struggled to finish together, you grab his hand. As soon as he turns to you, your expression shifts into one of coyness.

“I think it’s time I give you your last present.”

Felix’s expression is a mix of giddiness, curiosity and a twinge of lust. With a peck to his lips, you tell him to get comfy in bed while you go and freshen up in the bathroom.

You were able to sneak in a bag from one of your favorite lingerie shops earlier, containing a set that was guaranteed to blow his mind. After slipping on the white and angelic set, applying a touch of makeup and spritzing some perfume behind your ears, you were ready.

Stepping out and back into your shared bedroom, you weren’t surprised to see your boyfriend fixated on his phone, the sounds of familiar TikTok audios ringing out. If it wasn’t getting so late, you would just stand and watch as his pretty face lit up with laughter at the videos. But you were eager to give him his present now.

“Felix.”

Finally, his head came up. And the second he laid eyes on you, you knew you had made an excellent choice in attire.

“Are you my last present?”

A wave of goosebumps formed on your skin at the way he rasped the question while looking you over with a fine-tooth comb. But you played it cool on the surface, glossy lips curling while you rested your hands on your lace-covered hips.

“Yes, but you seem to be too occupied at the moment to really enjoy it.”

You manage to keep your laugh down enough to come out as a hyper giggle at the way your boyfriend tossed his phone onto the nightstand without looking (and missed).

“I’m always free for you, darling.”

As soon as he held his arms out towards you, you knew his attention was all yours.

Strutting over and onto the bed, he’s quick to wrap his arms around you and place his lips on yours. You take your time stripping Felix of every article of clothing before guiding his lean body to recline against the pillows gathered at the headboard. The way he watches as you carefully crawl over him has your heart fluttering even more.

Settling your hips directly above his, you manage to stay focused on your plan, despite the noticeable weight of his cock underneath your clothed core. After giving him a few more kisses, you start trailing them off his lips and onto his jawline, covering each inch before moving onto the defined column of his neck. Feeling the rumble and hearing the praises coming from him only encouraged your hands to come alive, roaming the trim expanse of his torso.

But there’s something that happens that throws you off-guard a bit.

Whenever your fingers or nails ran over his nipples, you’d feel his body stiffen or hear his breath hitch. The first couple of times, you thought it was the nips you placed on his neck that pulled those reactions. But when you scraped over one of the buds while your lips hovered above his collarbone, you felt his cock give a twitch under you.

It took everything in you not to smile mischievously.

You always had a feeling that Felix was partial to nipple play, but he never seemed to be willing to bring it up. Ever the respectful girlfriend, you didn’t bring it up. But now?

You had to give the birthday boy a gift he wouldn’t forget.

Scooting your body back to rest on his thighs now, you flashed a wicked smile when he looked at you with curiosity. In no time, you began pressing kisses to his chest, waiting until you felt him relax into the pillows again before beginning your sneak attack.

The second you lapped at his nipple, Felix jolted and gasped, “Y-Y/N—!”

Humming against his skin, you repeat the motion a few times before swirling the tip of your tongue around the dusky peak, savoring the groan that finally escaped his mouth. Pulling off, you gazed up at him, clenching at the almost needy way he looked.

“You like that, baby?”

It took him a moment, but he pushed through, cheeks and ears red as he replied, “Y-Yeah…”

“Want me to keep going?”

There was less pause this time in his response, a hand coming up to gently cradle the back of your head.

“Yes—” He carefully pushed you close to his dampening chest. “Please—”

He didn’t need to say more. Your mouth was quick to keep laving at him, giving the neglected side some attention after a while. Why didn’t you do this earlier? The way your boyfriend was reacting was satisfying you in a way that was unexpected.

Felix’s hand remained on your head, the hold tightening at certain points when the pleasure got to be too much for him. But never too harsh. He would never want to hurt you.

Especially when one of your hands slipped down to grasp his cock, the unexpected contact making him give a sharp cry that had your hips twitching.

But the edge softened into a moan as you started slowly jerking him off, just the way he liked it. That combined with your mouth had him put his guard down completely, giving into the bliss you were providing.

It was clear by his reactions that he was enjoying this, but you just had to hear it straight from his mouth. You pulled off to husk, “Feels good, Fe?”

“Uh huh—“

The sheer desperation that came out of his mouth only pushed you furthermore, adding light scrapes and digs of your teeth into the mix. Hearing Felix get louder only made your panties wetter and your desire grow. The way his hips quickly bucked and rolled into your hold had you wishing it was your pussy instead.

Soon, soon.

But out of nowhere, you hear a familiar groan, swiftly followed by a throbbing in your grip before something hot and wet coats your hand. The shock of it makes you pull your lips off, a tiny string of spit connecting while you peer up at Felix with awe. The sheer bashfulness on his face gave away what occurred.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry…”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, sitting up straight as you brought your clean hand up to stroke one of his flaming cheeks.

“Don’t be. It just means you really enjoyed yourself, right?”

Felix avoided your gaze for a second, but returned it as he nodded shyly.

“Yeah…I really did. Thank you, baby.”

You smiled sweetly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Should’ve asked me to do this sooner if you were gonna make all those noises.”

Your boyfriend groaned, pouting as he looked off to the side.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react, so I didn’t bother…”

You shook your head, giving that same cheek a light pinch now. “Closed mouths don’t get fed, Felix. I’m open to whatever suggestions you have in that cute brain of yours.”

Now you caught his attention again, giddy at the way he grinned at you now.

“Yes ma’am. Speaking of suggestions…”

Your interest piqued when he took a hold of your hips, a thumb rubbing above the band of your garter belt.

“Mind if I give one right now?”

Something told you that he’d have an interesting one, so you humored him with approval. A dark brow raised as he lowered his voice further than usual, “Can you sit on my face?”

Everything about that question shot straight to your core, body shifting in place.

“Like I would say no. Don’t you want more than that, though?”

“Of course, but it’s gonna take me a moment to catch up. Besides—”

Felix leaned in, nose pressed to yours as he whispered naughtily, “I’m not done unwrapping my present.”

There was no way you two were going to bed within the next hour, was there?

You didn’t mind at all, reflecting his tone as you breathed, “Anything for the birthday boy.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

#lee felix #felix lee #skz felix #felix x reader #felix x you #felix x y/n #felix smut #felix fic #felix fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #birthday licks

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 8: shot in the dark.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - just when things were looking up, it all goes to shit.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 6.6k

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - mentioned/described violence, mentioned/implied abortion, criminal justice system/arrest, angst, sexual harassment (attempted sexual coercion basically), hurt/comfort, injuries

Honestly, you'd been avoiding Eddie.  Even more than usual.  And you weren't sure if he could even tell the difference.

You had so many excellent reasons to avoid him: your budding, complicated emotions; your guilt for finding and reading letters meant for his dad; your fear of embarrassing yourself in front of him even more than you already had.

Also, the usual reasons, such as his annoyingness.

And he seemed to notice— and he couldn’t just let. it. go.

“I know the guys would love to see you,” Eddie tried to tempt you as you sighed and focused on the unfinished homework in front of you.

“But I don’t want to have to hear you again,” you explained.

“Okay, then instead of a Corroded Coffin show, you could come to Hellfire!” he suggested excitedly.  “No music, just games and stuff.”

“Really, Ed, I don’t have time,” you insisted.

He pouted, and it hurt your heart; “I thought we were, you know… I thought maybe we were friends.”

It reminded you of something you weren’t supposed to know— something you read in his scrapped letter to his father: I don’t know if we’re really friends.  You wanted to ask him which one it was— are we friends or not? —  but your frustration got the better of you and you asked the question that had been on your mind for nearly a week now.  “Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna graduate this year?” you asked quickly.

“I—” he began, stopping quickly and tilting his head while he looked at you.  “How did you know?”

“W-Wayne told me,” you bluffed.

“Wayne doesn’t know,” he returned instantly.  “Did you…?  No…”

“Uh,” you choked, “listen, I wasn’t trying to snoop, really, I was just taking out the trash—”

“You… you really read them?” he realized, and you realized something, too— you’d never seen Eddie actually angry before.  You shrunk down instantly, wishing you hadn’t brought it up: better yet, wishing you hadn’t read the letters. 

“I know I shouldn’t have,” you said, “I’m sorry…”

“You just had to know, didn’t you?” he interrogated, stepping closer to you.  “You had to know what the deal was with my piece-of-shit dad, huh?”

“I— Eddie, it wasn’t like that—”

“Well, now you know,” he crossed his arms.  “Do you want the really gory details?”

“Not if you—”

“He’s got another eight years left,” Eddie interjected, “assault with a deadly weapon.  He robbed a convenience store and attacked the clerk with a switchblade.  He made a plea deal to get it down from attempted murder.”

You swallowed thickly.

“He writes a couple times a year, I haven’t written back since I was twelve.  Because what the fuck is there to say?” he laughed coldly.  “Well, I guess you know now what there is to say…”

“God, Eddie, don’t hate me—” you pleaded.

“I don’t hate you,” he promised.  “I just didn’t know that you cared.”

“Well… I do,” you stuttered, crossing your arms.

“Why do you care?”

You didn’t like any answer to that question, so you changed the subject slightly.  “I can’t believe you’re mad at me for caring about you!” you returned.

“I’m not mad that you care— I just can’t believe you’re still pretending not to know why.”

Maybe it would be easier if you just let him say— if he would give away that he really did know, that he figured it out ages ago, that he wasn’t just teasing you.  “Why?” you pressed him.

“Because we’re family,” he said confidently.

Ouch.  Did he even know that he just drop-kicked your heart across the street?

“Can’t you just admit that?” he continued.  “That I’m a part of your life now and maybe it’s not the worst thing that ever happened to you?”

“Okay,” you sighed, feeling like the breath you let out emptied your entire body.  “Yeah, okay.  We’re family.”

“And I’m your…?” he prompted.

“Stepbrother,” you added, “in a sense.”

He smiled proudly.  “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head; and he thought nothing of it, he couldn’t know why it bothered you so much.  He was willing to forgive your snooping if it meant being almost-friends again, in fact he was excited to— but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get a little revenge first, right?

It was just a coincidence that he checked the mail on his way inside from school a couple days later, he hadn’t even hatched a plan yet— but Eddie smiled to himself deviously as he saw the letter addressed to you.  “Oh ho ho,” he laughed quietly, glancing back at the front door to make sure you weren’t going to catch him.  “Okay, sis, you wanna read my mail, that’s fine.  But I’m reading yours.”

He hastily tore through the envelope, but he slowed down when he unfolded the paper inside.  What caught him off guard was a picture of you— he nearly let it slip out onto the ground, but he got it just in time.  You were holding your instant camera up over your face, but he could still just barely see your smile beneath.  You looked happy.  Eddie’s heart hurt when he realized how rarely he got to see you like that.

The letter was short, but it still took Eddie a moment to read because the handwriting was so scratchy (though he wasn’t in much place to judge).

Sorry I haven’t been in touch as much.  Truth is, I really miss you.  Call me more, okay?

Here’s the picture you asked for.  The original is still in a box I keep of all my favorite shots.  I’ll never forget the day we took these, and not just because it’s the day I got my Pentax.

Oh, and by the way, I meant to tell you this on the phone, but that guy you were talking about?  I know it’s gonna sound weird, but he probably likes you.

Jonathan (your PBPB… that stands for Peanut Butter Pecan buddy)

Clearing his throat, Eddie stuffed the letter in his back pocket— you didn’t need to be reading that and getting any ideas in your head.

And the picture?  Well, he’d keep it, for now, so he could see you smile whenever he wanted.

There was that ‘calm before the storm’ feeling with Eddie now— you tried to convince yourself that this was the new normal, polite but aloof, like adult stepsiblings should be; but you knew, deep down, that something was coming.  Still, you never expected this.

Eddie had left without any announcement or preamble, because he was a grown man with a car and he didn’t need to explain himself, but you almost missed his little announcements: off to Hellfire, wish me luck and good dice rolls!  I’m grabbing Burger King, want anything?  I’m checking if the record store has the new AC/DC album yet, wanna come?

You were curious as to what he was up to, leaving the house on a day off from school, knowing that it most likely wasn’t Hellfire or band practice just from your passing knowledge of his schedule.  Could just as easily be a cigarette run or a random drive around town.

Could even be a date!  Probably not.  Hopefully not.

Your curiosity only grew the longer he was gone, and that was what led to you looking at him so carefully when he returned about an hour later.

You could tell he was trying to hide his face when he came home— and it wasn’t hard, with all that hair hanging down— but you tilted your head when you saw what looked like a bit of dried blood on his chin.  “What’s that?” you asked, pointing to it, and he shuddered as he walked past you and wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“What?” he mumbled.  “Nothing— cut myself shaving this morning.”

But it wasn’t there before he left, so that was a lie.  

You jumped up off the couch to stand in front of him and brushed his curls back behind his ear with a gasp.

“Jesus, Eddie!” you yelped.  He winced as you held his cheeks to get a better look at the black eye and cut lip, tilting his head away while you tried to hold his face still.  Finally you got a grip on his jaw and forced him to look down at you— and you had to stop for a second when his eyes met yours and looked at you like that.  “What… what did you do?” you whispered.

“What did I do?” he asked with a smirk.  “I thought you’d be more concerned with who did this to me.”

“Are you gonna tell me?” you tilted your head.

“No.”

“Exactly,” you frowned.  “You’ve got a cut on your eyebrow, too— Ed, you need to disinfect that.”

“No,” he said again.

“Then I will,” you decided.

“I’m fine,” he insisted.  “Not my first time getting my ass kicked, I promise.”

"Was it Jason?"

"I said I wouldn't tell you."

"But it was, wasn't it?" you pressed.

He sighed.  "No!  Would you just let it go?"

“I won’t ask about it again if you let me clean this all up a bit, okay?” you bargained.

He looked to the side as he considered it, those long eyelashes fluttering for a second.  “Okay,” he mumbled.

You had him on the couch a minute later, holding a bag of frozen peas to his eye while you dabbed at his lip with some hydrogen peroxide on a rag.

“Ow,” he frowned.

“Stop talking,” you mumbled back, focused mainly on trying to clean the small remnants of dried blood.  His injuries weren’t severe, of course, but you knew these could scar if they weren’t dealt with quickly.

For the most part you continued in silence, finding yourself spacing out a bit as you used the water-soaked end of the rag to carefully wipe his cheek…

You moved to the other side, and he lowered the bag of peas for a moment.  “Does it still hurt?” you asked as you noticed the slightest wince cross his face while you wiped near the purple spots on his skin.

“Yeah— you gonna kiss it to make it better?” he smirked.

Your eyes lingered on the bruise under his eye, and you imagined doing it— imagined holding his jaw in both hands as you sat up and leaned closer, carefully pressing your lips to his cheekbone.  If you breathed out a sigh through your nose, he’d feel it on his forehead; if he blinked and looked up at you, his eyelashes would tickle your cheek.

If he held your waist and pulled you down to really kiss you, you wouldn’t stop him.

That was exactly why you didn’t do it.  “You wish,” you scoffed instead, dabbing at the cut on his eyebrow next.

There was a quick lull in the conversation before Eddie admitted suddenly, “I missed this.”

You sighed.  “Don’t tell me you got beat up so we could have some bonding time.”

He snorted.  “No.  But I don’t know why you stopped talking to me.  I mean, I guess I’m okay with it… if that’s what you really want.”

Instinctively, you looked him in the eyes— but you looked away a second later, because what if he could see everything in your stare?  “What do you mean?” you asked quickly.

“I mean that I thought we were having fun,” he shrugged.  “I thought maybe you didn’t hate me so much…”

He sounded so defeated, and your heart twisted.  “I don’t hate you,” you admitted.  “A-and I meant what I said, after you found out that I— well, anyways, we’re family.”

“But are we friends?”

“No,” you answered instantly.  “Friends are a choice.  You moved into my room four months ago and ruined everything.”

He laughed, because he knew you were exaggerating (slightly) and you laughed a bit too— though it was quiet, you were still focusing on tending to his cuts.  “So, friends are a choice,” he agreed, “and you’re choosing… none?”

“No,” you denied with a frown, “I thought maybe Jonathan and I were gonna start talking more again— but he promised to mail me something and never did, so I dunno.”

Eddie cleared his throat; “Could’ve gotten lost in the mail,” he offered.

You shrugged, “I guess.”

And he let the silence sit this time, thank god— he didn’t usually let you get away with it.  But it was quiet after that, in a new way, a way that didn’t make you expect any other shoe about to drop.  You were wrong, of course, but you still believed at the time that that was the end of it: that you and Eddie had finally talked about not talking, and that whatever happened to him that day would be a mystery you were just too disinterested to solve, and all would be well.

Instead, after the evening had begun and just before you were thinking of getting up to get ready for bed, there was a knock at the door.  “Can you get it?” you asked when you heard it, since you were busy reading a book at the table and he, laying on the couch, didn’t seem to be doing much of anything.  You figured it was a package or something; Eddie hesitated, and in retrospect, it was like he knew who it really was— but you didn’t notice it at the time.

You heard the door open, and straightened up when you heard Eddie greet, “well, good evening, officer.”

Fuck.  You immediately imagined all the drugs Eddie had likely hidden in your room, getting blamed for them, going to prison— and Eddie would have the room all to himself, finally.  Maybe that was his plan all along!

You tried not to seem too eager as you slid off of your chair and stood up, approaching the door to get a good view of the policeman: "I noticed some bruises on your face,” he said sternly, pointing at Eddie, “did you get into a fight?"

"No, actually, I just fell off my bike,” Eddie lied quickly— he was eerily good at that, actually.

"Were you aware that Gary Thompson was assaulted today?" the officer asked point blank.  And then it clicked.  You tried not to react, knowing that if you were too obvious, the cop would notice and start questioning you as well.

"Hm, can't say that I knew that," Eddie replied with a smile, tilting his head.

"We're looking for who might've hit him," the officer continued.

"Well, you're gonna be looking all night," Eddie smirked, "Gary's quite punchable, could've been anybody."

"That's the thing," the officer explained, pulling a photograph out of his pocket, "it couldn't have been anybody." He unfolded a picture of Gary's face, specifically Gary's injuries— just a massive bruise on his cheek and nose, a couple small cuts, the bridge of his nose starting to swell.  "Do you see that bruise, right there?"

Eddie narrowed his eyes as the officer pointed at one specific part of the picture; you shut your eyes with a silent sigh.

"It's the shape of a cross," the officer noticed.

"Oh, wow," Eddie beamed, "it's like when people see Jesus in their toast!"

"Don't you have a ring with a cross just about that size?" the officer pressed; Eddie promptly clasped his hands behind his back.

"Nope," Eddie answered quickly.  The officer raised an eyebrow at him.  "Do I look particularly religious to you?"

"Son," the man frowned, "I think it's time you took some responsibility for your actions."

You stepped closer, reaching one hand behind Eddie that brushed against his own; he jumped a little at first when he felt you touch him, but tightened his jaw and stayed still.  "When did this happen?" you asked the officer.

"This afternoon," he replied.  At the same time, you found Eddie’s hand, behind his back, and felt each of his rings.  Skull, no.  This one’s kinda pointy, with two little things on each side?  Fuck, that’s the pig…  When you found the cross and skulls by touch, he uncurled his fingers and you pulled the jewelry off, holding the chunk of silver in your palm tightly.

"Oh— Eddie was home then, with me," you insisted.

"He was here?" the officer pressed.

“Mhm,” you nodded.  “We watched our favorite movie.”

“And what’s that?” 

You spoke at the same time Eddie did: “Sixteen Candles.”

The officer raised an eyebrow, letting the moment linger for a second before he sighed.  “Listen— we could play this game all night, but the reality is, we have witnesses that have identified you already, including the victim," he informed you both as he crossed his arms.  "So either you come with me now, or I take you both in for obstruction."

"Leave her out of it," Eddie barked instantly, "I'll go, okay?  I'll go with you."

“Eddie, don’t,” you pleaded, “it was self-defense, right?  He hit you first?”

You whined as Eddie shook his head.  “Put your hands behind your back,” the officer ordered, and Eddie turned and kept his wrists together as the cop got out his cuffs.

“This is ridiculous,” you began to complain to him, “this is— he didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I have a warrant for his arrest,” the man frowned at you, “so it seems pretty standard to me.”

“But—” you whimpered.

“Just stay out of the way, miss.”

You sighed as you looked up at Eddie.  “Don’t sweat it sweetheart, s’not my first time in handcuffs,” he smirked.  “Though I prefer the fuzzy toy kind.”

“Got anything in your pockets?” the officer asked Eddie.

“Uh— wallet, cigs, lighter,” Eddie listed.

“Your girlfriend can keep the cigarettes for you,” the man offered.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Eddie corrected.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you said simultaneously.  

The officer rolled his eyes, but you reached into Eddie’s back pocket and pulled the box of cigarettes out.  “Can she light me one?” Eddie asked the policeman, who nodded.  

You shook the pack until one popped out halfway, pulling it out as he leaned down so you could put the filtered end between his lips.

“Lighter’s in this pocket,” Eddie explained, muffled by the cigarette in his mouth, by tilting his hips forward to put his right front pocket towards you.  You gingerly reached inside, trying to touch as little of him as possible while you grabbed the plastic lighter, but you could still feel the warmth of his thigh through the pocket’s fabric.

A couple tries and you struck the lighter, holding it up so Eddie could lean into the flame, moving his jaw to tilt the cigarette how he needed it.  He nodded a little as he pulled back, and you let the lighter go; he took a slow drag with his eyes shut, blinking them open again when he exhaled through his nose.  

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and you let him take one more puff before you reached up with two fingers to hold the cigarette and pull it away so he could exhale normally.  He looked at you through the cloud of smoke in front of his face, something impossible to describe in his eyes.  

“Time to go,” the cop announced firmly, and you reached up to let Eddie have one more drag.  He took it quickly, smiling around his exhale as he turned to walk down the pavement to the officer’s car.

"Finish the rest for me?" he called over his shoulder with a crooked smile.

You watched in disbelief as the cop helped Eddie into the backseat.  “When can I come bail him out?” you asked quickly.

“After his arraignment,” the cop replied.

“When— when is that?!”

“Tomorrow morning!” he called back as he shut the driver’s door.  

You blinked quickly, wondering when this bizarre waking nightmare would end— but it didn’t, and your heart jumped when the car started to move as the officer put it into drive.  “Wait!” you yelled out instantly, running down the porch steps barefoot, onto the pavement— still warm even in the evening as the heat of the day faded— out into the street, chasing the car for just a few feet before you saw Eddie smiling at you through the back window.  He didn’t look nearly as scared as you figured you did; you slowed down to a stop, standing in the street and watching the car turn away.

You didn’t sleep that night.  You just stared up at the empty bunk bed above you; it felt so strange, you kept expecting the sounds of him up there, the rustling of sheets or heavy, slow breathing.  

All you’d been waiting for, since Eddie got here, was silence.  You never thought you’d miss all that noise.

Wayne came home late; your mom was spending the weekend with her old college friend in Indianapolis, the closest thing to a bachelorette party that she was interested in, and you figured you would wait until she got back to tell her what had happened instead of calling her now and worrying her more.

You heard Wayne’s heavy boots walk by your door, down the hall to the bedroom, and you knew you should go tell him.  He had no way to know, with your door closed and Eddie’s van still parked out front, unless that ‘one call from jail’ thing from the movies was true (which you were pretty sure it wasn’t).  But you decided to wait until morning to tell him— or, at least, you knew you just couldn’t tell him right now… you didn’t want him to see you cry.

You were watching the clock tick, one minute at a time, to six-thirty.  If Eddie wasn’t up by then, Wayne would notice and come storming in, find an empty bed, and find out the worst way possible what happened.

You hated to do it, but that thought was the only way you could psych yourself up and tell him yourself.  Of course, the way he did find out wasn’t all that much better…

He only glanced up for a second as you stood an awkward distance away; he was sitting there eating his bowl of cereal and reading the paper, and you were just staring at him.  “Mornin’,” he offered you with a quick smile.

“Eddie was arrested last night,” you blurted out.  Wayne stood up instantly.

“What happened?  On what charges?” he rushed.

“U-um, he assaulted someone,” you answered.  “He took some hits too, but, apparently he started it, so—”

“Shit,” Wayne frowned, crossing his arms and shaking his head.  “S’better than drugs, I guess— but I never thought he’d hurt somebody.  You’re sure he started it?  Did somebody say somethin’ to him?”

“I-I don’t know, I wasn’t there,” you sighed.  “I’m going to pick him up— I don’t want you to miss work.”

“I can miss work,” Wayne assured, “I can— I’ll call—”

“No, Wayne, let me take care of it,” you begged.  “I don’t think he’d want you to see him like that, anyway.”

“Like what, beat up?  Wouldn’t be my first time to see that,” Wayne scoffed.

“In cuffs,” you corrected, and he sighed.

“You’re right,” he agreed, “and I don’t wanna see it either.  But he’s my responsibility.”

You almost smiled, somehow, with everything going on.  “You know, he is a grown man.”

“Barely.”

“Legally.”

That seemed to finally get him to calm down a bit, begrudgingly, and he sighed through his nose.  

“Please let me go for you,” you pleaded.  “Go to work, and it’ll all be dealt with by the time you get home.  Let me do this for the both of you.”

The keys to the van were on the table already; he picked them up and tossed them to you lightly, nodding as you caught them.  “Just make sure he gets home safe,” Wayne instructed, “so I can kick his ass myself when I see him.”

He could play the part of the gruff, stern uncle as much as he wanted, but it wasn’t as convincing of a portrayal as it used to be— you could see how worried he really was, how concerned, how heartbroken.  And you only insisted on going to spare Eddie from seeing that for just a little longer.

You hoped in the driver’s seat, noticing the stillness and silence of the empty car.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself as you stared at the steering wheel.  You hadn’t driven in months, and even then it wasn’t a beast like Eddie’s van.  “You like me, right?” you asked the van quietly.  “Remember when I washed you?  So be nice to me… no backfiring, please…”

You turned the key, and even though it sputtered, the engine turned and the car started.

You sighed with relief.  “Thank you,” you whispered.

Next order of business: reversing out of the driveway and getting to the courthouse.  Without hitting anything.

The silence in the car was so heavy, you were amazed the thing could still drive.  You refused to let Eddie take the wheel, even though he obviously felt strange watching you drive his van.  But he also couldn’t exactly put up a fight against you after you waited at the courthouse until nearly three in the afternoon for his bail to be set, then drove to the bank and back to pay the two-hundred and fifty dollars down payment on said bail out of your savings.

He kept looking at you for a few seconds at a time, then looking at the road, then back at you, back at the road— occasionally mixing it up with a glance down into his lap.

“Feels good to be out of the cuffs,” he said finally.

“I’m sure.”

You focused on driving.  You could say a lot but you didn’t know what good any of it would do.  You hadn’t even picked which of the multitude of emotions you were feeling to focus on yet.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, eventually.

“After jail, or after fighting Gary?” he wondered, and you sighed when you heard him admit to it for the first time.

“Both,” you replied.

“Jail was fine,” he shrugged, “it’s a small town so it was empty except for me and a drunk guy who… spent pretty much the whole time passed out.”

Well, that was a relief, if nothing else.

“And the fight,” he continued scoffing, “that was nothing.”

“Nothing?” you repeated, still mostly restrained but letting some of your incredulousness seep into your tone.

"I can take a punch," he rolled his eyes.

"Good."

He yelped as your fist collided with his shoulder.

"The fuck were you thinking?!" you hissed.

"Hey!" he pouted, rubbing his arm.  "You're stronger than you look…"

"You attacked Gary?!  In the middle of town, in the middle of the day…?"

Eddie huffed and looked away, still holding his arm.  "He had it coming."

"Did he say something to you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit, only sparing small looks at him while you drove.

Eddie shrugged.  "He said he was Gary Thompson.  The guy that cheated on you, treated you like shit, and broke your heart.  That's all he had to say."

"So, what, you think you did this for me?"

"Well, yeah!"

You laughed coldly.  "That's bullshit!"

"What?!" Eddie replied defensively.  "Of course I did it for you, that asshole deserved it after he humiliated you like that!"

"And that's what you think I want?  I want you to go starting fights, get your shit wrecked—?"

"Okay, first of all, I won that fight," Eddie insisted.

" — and then make me bail you out?" you concluded.  "You can't act like this was anything but selfish.  You made me clean up your mess and you expect me to thank you?"

"I didn't make you bail me out," he reminded you.

"Oh, please," you rolled your eyes.  "Did you really expect me to leave you there?"

"I mean… kinda…"

"Come on, you know I couldn't do that," you sighed, "we're family."

He nodded.  "Yeah, that's why I had to do it to him."

You shook your head.  "Eddie… I'm a grown up.  You don't need you to fight my battles.  Or my boyfriends."

"I just…" Eddie began, sighing before he met your gaze.  "I wanted him to hurt."

"I did too," you admitted, "a long time ago— but I moved on.  You can't solve pain with more pain; not his pain, not your pain, nothing fixes what already happened."

Eddie’s silence must have been his relent to that, and you two stayed that way for a moment until he reached to the radio and turned it on.  About four seconds of Crazy Train played before you reached forward and turned it off again.  “Hey,” he frowned and turned it on again, “my car.”

“I’m driving it,” you noticed, turning the radio off again.

“My stereo,” he replied, turning it on again.

We’re going off the rails on a crazy—! You slammed the power button and shut it off.  “Pay me back for that bail payment and you can put on whatever you like!” you decided, and he pouted, but slumped back into the passenger seat and stayed silent.

That silence lasted a long time, until you were almost home.  He broke it eventually with a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you whispered back, and that was the last that was said of it for the night.

When you pulled into the driveway and turned off the car, you just sat there, and Eddie looked at you.  “Are you gonna get out?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you breathed.  “Just gimme a minute, I’ll see you inside.”

He opened his own door and hopped out, leaving you in the quiet alone after it shut.  You watched him walk behind the van in the rearview, then looked out the window to see him bound up the porch stairs and through the front door.  The living room curtains were open enough for you to see him meet Wayne near the doorway, and throw his arms around him instantly for a tight hug.  Wayne pushed his lips together and wrapped his own arms around his nephew, rubbing his back briefly through the denim vest.  You sighed.  Great ass-kicking, Wayne.

But you knew he needed this more.  You wished you were strong enough to comfort him like that— it’s funny, how people would think it takes more strength to actually deliver that ass-kicking than it would be to hold him.  But you knew it was the other way around, because you were too weak to be vulnerable; you weren’t tough enough to be soft.

Your eyes filled with tears and you held your fist up to your mouth to try to stop it.  There was so much overwhelming you in that moment, but most of all you were simply exhausted.  The good news is, you slept great that night.  Even with your mind racing with everything you went through today, even contemplating the consequences of yesterday, even knowing what you would have to face tomorrow, you slept like a fucking rock.  Because after you slipped in bed for the night and Eddie got out of his much-needed shower, he was there above you: breathing, stirring, rustling the sheets.  Not only was it the best you’d slept since he moved in here, it was probably the best you’d slept since you moved in here.

That was what was so perfect, and so horrible, about Eddie.  He was making you realize all the things you never knew you were missing.

She was chewing bubblegum when she answered the door— she must’ve known it was you already, maybe she knew before you even knocked, because she was prepared with a snarky sneer on her face.  "Hey, Tammy," you greeted awkwardly.

She scoffed, crossing her arms.  "You know, you've got a lot of guts coming here after siccing that freak on my brother.  I'll give you that."

"Just tell me Gary's okay?" you pleaded, and she dropped some of her attitude as she looked at you.

"Yeah… he's fine," she assured.  “But I’m not gonna let you in or anything.”

You sighed.  “I only wanted to check on him.”

“Then send a Get Well Soon card,” she offered sarcastically.

Losing patience, you shoved in past her and ignored her whining complaints.  You swung open the door to Gary’s room, causing him to sit up in his bed quickly.  “Hey,” you said flatly.

“H-hey,” he returned, “shut the door.”

Tammy groaned as the door was shut in her face.  You looked back at Gary, and it was hard to look at him, especially with the bruises and cut nose.  “Looks like some of the swelling is going down,” you offered politely.

He rolled his eyes as he threw the covers off of himself, revealing he was only in boxers, and you cleared your throat quietly as you looked down.  “How, uh… how are you?” he asked, and you smiled.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that,” you returned.

“People have been asking me that non-stop since it happened— oh, how are you?,” he did an impression of a pitying voice, “it’s annoying after a while.  It’s not like I got hit by a truck or anything, just a random psycho.”

He glanced up at you.

“Well,” he added, “not so random…”

"Gary, listen," you breathed.  "I didn't ask Eddie to do that— I didn't want Eddie to do that."

Gary scoffed.  "Uh huh, sure."

"Really."

You sat down next to him on the bed, grabbing his hands and clutching them as he looked at you through a swollen eye.

"I'd owe you for life if you dropped the charges,” you pleaded.  “Eddie's got enough trouble with the law, but I know he's so close to turning his life around.  He's gonna graduate this year— finally— and he just needs a little grace right now."

Gary raised his eyebrows.  “You know, you’re different.”

You tilted your head, “How?”

“The girl I went out with would’ve never been this brave.”

You snorted.  “I don’t have any other choice now, if he has to go to trial and prison— if I have to pay the rest of his bail—”

“Do you ever think about us?” he interrupted suddenly.  

“U-uh, well…” you trailed off.  “I dunno.  Sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “I think, sometimes, we could’ve made it work.”

You shook your head, laughing through your confusion.  “Where’s this coming from?  You never called or anything, now you’re waxing nostalgic.”

“Well, seeing you is different,” he explained, “and you— you’re—”

“Different?” you remembered.  He laughed, and it was familiar.

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “I mean, you’re still you, and you’ve always been, you know, pretty.  I always… well, I hope you know I really loved you.”

You sighed, staring down into your lap.  “I believed that for a long time, but after the way everything ended…” you trailed off.

"Yeah, I messed around with other girls,” he admitted, “but you were always the only one I wanted to be with.  I really thought we were gonna get married someday."

You sighed.  "Well, obviously I thought so, too."

"I think if you gave me another chance, I could be faithful this time," he announced.

"You think?" you repeated incredulously as you whipped your head around to look at him.

"Yeah— I've been thinking about you a lot lately, actually.”

He leaned a little closer, giving you a certain look (as best he could with a beat-up face) and you scoffed.  "That's never happening.  I learned my lesson from the last time I dated you."

"If not another chance, then just one more time together— for old times' sake," he suggested with a smile.

He stepped closer to you, reaching out to gently hold your hips as you fought off a grimace of disgust.  "Old times?  I spent the last two years trying to forget those times."

"I'll say this: if you stay here tonight, I can promise those assault charges against your friend will be dropped tomorrow…"

You shuddered as he leaned in, kissing gently under your ear.  "Gary— there's gotta be something else I can do—"

"There's that one thing you were really good at, remember?" he purred.

"Uh, no," you frowned.

"Oh, right— I don't think that was you."

You shoved him away with a sneer.  "Where do you get off?"

"Wherever I want," he smirked, "you?"

"Not with you!" you snapped.  "Not even once!"

As you stormed out of his room and towards the front door, Gary followed you.  “Guess I’ll see you in court then!” he shouted smugly, making you spin on your heel while you were on his porch.

“You know something?” you began, and you could see his smile fall a bit because he knew he was in for it.  “I came here because I thought you’d do this for me— do you think I would’ve driven all this way and gotten attitude from Tammy if I didn’t think you would listen to me?  Even after everything you put me through, even after you told me you loved me the same night you slept with Harriet Kingsley—”

He winced.

“Even after you convinced me I was crazy for questioning you,” you continued, “made me apologize to you for accusing you, had me worried that I was the worst girlfriend ever because I was so untrusting—”

The way his face changed made you wonder if he ever realized before that that’s what he had done.  It made you wonder if he ever really thought about what he’d put you through before, until now.

“Even—” you choked up a bit as you tried to go on— “even after you found out I was pregnant and you told me you’d break up with me if I didn’t get it taken care of—” when he tried to look away, you yelled sharply:  “No!  Look at me!” 

He looked at you.

“Even still, I really thought you’d do this for me,” you admitted, a few hot tears running down your cheeks as you spoke.  “I honest to God thought that you were still the guy I remembered thinking that you were, when we were together.  When I didn’t know who you really were.  You acted so sweet and fun and gentle— you acted like you cared about me.  I believed you, and honestly, I think you believed it, too.  I so want you to be that guy, I still do, even after everything.  So I guess I’m just fucking stupid.”

You let it sit for a second before you turned and began walking down the front yard again, towards Eddie’s van that you borrowed— he couldn’t exactly deny you when you asked for the keys now, after what you’d done for him, even if you refused to tell him where you were going.  “I’ll drop the charges,” he suddenly announced as you stepped down into the street to cross to the driver’s side.

“Honestly, Gary, I don’t give a fuck what you do,” you informed him flatly as you opened the door for yourself, “just please don’t talk to me again.”

That last part was a lie— you gave several fucks, more than you knew you had left or were willing to give out for free, but you gave them.  You cared because it was Eddie’s future, and he was so close.  You only told Gary that you didn’t care because, if he thought you did, he’d keep trying to use it against you.

The assault charge against Eddie was dropped the next day.  It was over.  

Wayne called it a miracle; Eddie just sighed and announced that he’d have to start studying for his math final now that he was trying to graduate again.  Your mom looked at you, and wondered, but said nothing.

#eddie munson x reader #stepbrother!eddie munson x reader

[dragonagitator]

House MD fans: You wake up in the PPTH ER in summer 2004. What you doing?

Scenario parameters:

All your memories of the show and the past 20 years are intact.

You are stuck there/then and cannot return to our universe/year.

You have nothing but the hospital gown on your back.

Questions:

So, what do you do?

How much would you tell House?

How would you get him to believe you?

Who else would you tell?

How much would you tell them?

Inspiration:

The author self-insert isekai fanfic "Intervention" by VivatRex (aka @acrownforaking). They've been writing it for the past 11+ years and are still updating. It's already nearly 300k words long despite only being up to the events of S02E15. I AM IN AWE.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this scenario ever since I read that fanfic a month ago. I'd love to discuss it with other House MD fans and hear what you would do.

(Apologies to the mutuals for the abrupt blog topic change. A new brainrot has taken hold.)

My short answer:

My long answers are below the cut.

So, what do you do?

My primary objective would be to enlist House in averting the pandemic.

My reasoning: If anyone can nip it in the bud before it gets out of Wuhan, I figure that a world-renowned genius doctor who is an infectious diseases specialist, speaks Mandarin, and now has a 15-year head start would have the best chance.

Difficulty level: Babysitting a narcissistic manchild with the self-preservation instincts of a toddler until the year 2020 so that he makes it there then alive, out of prison, and with his sanity, medical license, and professional reputation intact. To quote Quantum Leap, "Ohhhhhh boooooooy."

Strategy: I'm in the "I could fix him, but whatever's wrong with him is way funnier" camp, so I wouldn't try to change him (that always backfires anyway). Instead, I'd try to change his circumstances:

A stable romantic relationship would help, so I'd seduce him if I can (I'm not his type but a gal's gotta shoot her shot), try to get him together with Dominika earlier if I can't, and tell him how horribly his relationship with Cuddy ended so he knows better than to even start it.

Avert the shooting. Moriaty was a patient so his info is in the PPTH files. I AM THE ONE WHO KNOCKS. Or for a less murdery approach, try to get him arrested in April 2006 for violating New Jersey's strict gun laws.

Warn House about Tritter so he can switch patients with another clinic doctor.

Warn House to never get on a bus with Amber.

Tell Kutner I'm from the future and he's the only one who can prevent something horrible from happening (he's a Trekkie so he'll want to believe), then unfurl my big timeline poster and point at the "Kutner suicide early 2009" stickynote and ask him "so what's up with that, dude?"

Tell Wilson everything I can remember about his cancer -- he's an oncologist and thus can work backwards from there to figure out when to start checking for it so he can cut the tumor out while it's still just a tiny baby.

I would take a harm reduction approach to House's drug use, e.g., suggest that he try microdosing psilocybin and extend his liver's lifespan by substituting cannabis for some of his Vicodin and alcohol consumption.

Methods: Even though he doesn't have one for most of the show, House mentions a few times that he's entitled to hire an assistant, and I happen to be excellent at administrative work.

I think he'd be willing to hire me because working as his executive assistant / department secretary would position me to recognize patients as they come in so that I can discreetly pass along anything I remember, e.g., the kindergarten teacher has pork worms in her brain, ask the scientist in Antarctica to show you her feet, etc.

Meanwhile, I could lurk around the hospital preventing miscellaneous shit, e.g., get the gift shop volunteer from S01E04 to go home sick, ensure that the gunman from S05E09 is promptly admitted, diagnosed, and treated before he snaps and takes hostages, etc.

Possible sidequests:

Use my foreknowlege to get rich by milking online poker bonuses until the passage of the UIGEA in 2006, use my poker money to start flipping houses until 2007, get in on the "Big Short" in 2008, and set a Google Alert for "Bitcoin" so I can start mining/buying it from day one. Unfortunately, I haven't paid enough attention to individual stocks to play the market other than knowing that Amazon would be a good long-term buy & hold.

Use my riches to change the outcome of the 2016 election and try to steer the development of the internet and society in general in a slightly less stupid direction.

Send Pete Carroll a letter postdated just before the 2013 Superbowl telling him the outcome, then suggest for the final play of the 2014 Superbowl that the Seahawks try handing the ball off to Marshawn Lynch instead of throwing it because that throw will be intercepted. PRIORITIES.

How much would you tell House? How would you get him to believe you?

Your story about being from the future of an alternate universe in which House and everyone he knows are characters on a fictional TV show is already too batshit crazy to believe even without his kneejerk "everybody lies" skepticism. How would you differentiate yourself from all the patients who pull crazy stunts to try to get him to take their case?

My answer: For the "from the future" part, I'm hoping there's some sort of test that House could run to confirm that I was indeed vaccinated with a mRNA vaccine against the COVID-19/SARS-COV-2 virus. Given that neither of those things existed in 2004, that would be physical evidence that I'm not from around here now.

If producing physical evidence isn't possible, then I know that Vegetative State Guy from S03E15 is already a patient at PPTH because he'd been there for 10 years, so I'd find him and tell House about his son. I could also tell House enough about the cases from the first few episodes that I'm pretty sure he'd believe me by Christmas. I want in on Chinese food with Wilson.

I would wait until House accepted the "from the future" part before broaching the "fictional TV show" issue. Until then, "I watched a TV show about your life and cases" is a 100% true statement and it's not my fault if he assumes that show was a documentary. :)

Once he believed me, I'd tell him everything.

Who else would you tell? How much would you tell them?

There are people out there who would literally kill for your knowledge of the future, so going public or being too open about it seems highly risky.

My answer: I'd tell House, Wilson, and Chase right away. Kutner but not before Jan 2009. Maybe eventually Cuddy and the rest of the Diagnostics team if keeping my foreknowledge of the future from them proves too difficult.

House is the only one who gets to know everything. Everyone else is on a "need to know" basis.

I might also bring Bill Arnello (the brother/lawyer of the mob informant in S01E15 "Mob Rules") into the circle of trust because he could be a very useful resource for some of my sidequests, e.g., changing the outcome of the 2016 election far far far in advance and in the most direct way possible. (Hi, Secret Service! This is a purely hypothetical discussion about time travel and not at all indicative of any real criminal intent, pls do not pay me a visit, kthxbai.)

I think the only people I would tell the "fictional TV show" part to would be House, Wilson, and Chase, because there are things I need to warn them about that definitely wouldn't have been in a documentary. Like Chase needs to know that killing Diballa is 100% the right thing to do but he seriously needs to work on his OpSec. Everyone else gets the implied documentary lie of omission.

If I get caught knowing too much by random patients, I'll just claim to be psychic. Way more people believe in that than would believe in time travel.

What would you do?

#House #House MD #isekai #time travel #fanfic rec #fanfic recommendation #house md fanfiction #i have the brainrot #greg house #gregory house #james wilson #wilson #robert chase #chase #lawrence kutner #kutner #dr house #dr wilson #dr chase #dr kutner #hate crimes md #fanfiction: intervention #time travel problems

[venusandsaturnsrings]

out of all of ur tarus,, who’s the most obsessed with eating ur pssy

EXCELLENT QUESTION THANK YOU!! okay, i have a firm answer on this already but i’d like to dissect the different taru pussy eating styles. that way you all can decide who you’d want most based on skills and experience!! more exciting than a regular answer me thinks… anyways!!

inceltaru: my personal most beloved taru au!! but… zero experience. could not name a single anatomical part of a pussy if a gun was to his head. knows nothing and has never even been close to eating someone out. when first meeting him, he’s the type of guy who says “girls are supposed to give head not get it. i’m not into that, shits gross,” with a grimace. his curiosity is the saving grace here plus his obsession runs deep. tries it and immediately cannot get enough though he doesn’t get you off (he’s bad at it initially). give him a couple more goes and he’s worked out what makes you sob the hardest!! inceltaru is majorly into seeing you give him the same heart eyes back and going down on your for hours gets him that so it’s a win-win situation. he’ll be between your legs the most often when he’s stressed or feeling nice for once. stress leads to him nibbling and slapping your clit while nice will have him placing sloppy kisses all over!! does expect a blow in return though.

frat taru: eugh… he’s not very good at all… almost never gives head. minimal experience and not passionate about it until he’s actually into you which may take some time. he’ll come around eventually and when he does, trust you’ll get it the most often in the back of his car. makes snide remarks about how he doesn’t want his frat bros seeing him be such a beta but it’s clear he loves it if the way he palms himself through his sweats says anything!! eventually he’ll get better at it and like it more and more but he’d prefer fucking you properly. he does finger you more often, usually in the corner of random parties or places where you don’t have much time.

foxtaru: if there was an award for most toothy head, foxtaru would get it. he’s not mean and doesn’t bite, just likes gently nibbling your pretty lips and clit!! he loves the way it feels between his canines. gives very good but cheeky head; he’s rather teasing about it most of the time. tail swishing, you’ll be pushing his head closer whenever he slows down to get a ride out of you. all tarus are sadomasochists, foxtaru included, so pinch his ears and he’ll get back to it properly. definitely gives head the most!!

puptaru: sweet boy :(( overwhelmingly passionate about eating pussy!! will whine, paw at you, and beg until you let him. sobs for “just a little taste!” until you’re pushing your panties to the side for him to shove his face in. it’ll always end up being more than a taste though. he’s grabbing your thighs and slobbering all over you with ears pressed back and his tail wagging so hard you fear he’ll hurt himself. absolutely ADORES sucking on your clit. could spend hours abusing the little bud just to make you feel good and satiate his need for mouthfuls of your delicious juices :(( cross eyed and humping whatever he can the whole time but has gotten off untouched just by eating you out before. very much enjoys sticking his tongue in you and just feeling the way you squeeze it like it’s his dick. more often than not, you’ll be pinned down and bred once he’s had his fill. eating pussy is his full time job and he’s never called in sick!!

canon taru: what would this post be without the original?? he loves to serve, a soldier in all ways including when it comes to your pleasure. he takes it the most seriously, even pulling out a timer one time just to see how fast he could get you off. he can be teasing but he’s got that winner mindset even when he’s between your legs. he gives relatively steady head when his competitive nature is set aside. likes bringing you to the edge gently before prolonging your orgasm as long as he can. it’s not worth it to him if your legs aren’t trembling when he’s done!! i could make an entire separate post about foul legacy pussy eating but just know, he’s nothing but rough when he gets like that. tongue fucks you into the next dimension, mouth covering the entirety of your cunt with ease. his tongue his about has long as his normal dick is in that form…

ahem… if you couldn’t tell, puptaru is the most obsessed with eating you out!! foxtaru is a close second though!! inceltaru and canon taru tie for third while frat taru is last place… rankings aside, he loves eating you out regardless of au!! he’s a pussy pleaser!! pussy lover!! pussy adorer!! needs four square meals a day; breakfast, lunch, dinner, and pussy!!

#cw: incel #i’m very passionate abt this if u couldn’t tell #ngl… was rubbing my legs together typing inceltarus part… #so down bad for him… #inceltaru #puptaru #foxtaru #frat taru #incel childe #incel au #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #chit chats