#i hope one day i can have the grace and tenderness she has | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

piscespetals · 4 months

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summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part three here

content: gay pinning, fluff, smut

work count: 7k

thanks for waiting! i hope you enjoy <3

Chapter Four

By the time Sevika returns, you’ve already showered, painted your nails and returned to bed.

Your body is in a lot of pain, which means that you have to take more time than usual to complete these tasks. It’s when you’re back under your duvet and taking some pain medication that you hear the apartment door open.

There’s shuffling and multiple footsteps, surely from Monica and Sevika. So you crane your neck (which is surprisingly painful) in an attempt to hear them better. But you can't.

A few moments pass of quiet murmuring and then the pair of footsteps sound again. This time they pass by your bedroom. The apartment door opens and closes. And you hear the bolt slide shut.

Your find that your muscles begin to tremble from tensing so much, and your neck holds a dull ache from the way that you're lifting it off of the pillow. You exhale slowly, relaxing into the billows and soft cushioning that your bed provides. Everything will be okay.

You know that Sevika is making her way towards you before it even happens. That pull within you…that incredible burn that won't seem to go away–No matter how much you will it to—only grows stronger. For her.

So when your door knob twists, and the wooden door creaks open, you expect it. She stands there before you, eyes rimmed red and puffy, sniffling quietly with hardened lines almost everywhere on her face. A frown—one simple expression that would probably scare others away—is what you notice the most. A telltale sign of her distress; the ultimate reason for your worry.

Silently, she walks into your room, boots clanking loudly against the floorboards. Her feet drag, as if her conversation with Monica has been the most exhausting activity of the day, despite it only being Noon.

Your duvet not only keeps you warm, but keeps you from getting out of bed. It keeps you from going against your better judgment, and it listens to the ache of your strained muscles from the accident of the previous day.

Sevika still remains in her coat, even though it’s considerably warm in your room. It doesn't seem like she’s given herself much time to get settled, with her boots still on as well as her coat, and her car keys being clutched tightly in her hand.

She sits in your bed with careful consideration, even though the air around her stirs with unease. As if she’s afraid to break your bed—as if she’s afraid to startle you.

Her grey irises watch you just as carefully. They hold the same glimmer as yesterday evening when you found her in the hospital waiting room; the same soul-crushing tenderness.

“Why?” You ask. You wince as you try to sit up against your headboard. That alarms her. “I’m okay,” You reassure. “I’m just…” You wince once more. “A little sore. Nothing the doctor didn't warn me about.”

“Did you take your medication?”

You nod, “A while ago.”

You probably should've taken a heavier dosage, but you know that either way, you’d still feel a little pain.

“Okay,” She nods, accepting your answer with furrowing brows. She swallows thickly, eyes leaving yours and darting towards the covers of your bed. They stay there as she remains deep in thought. You watch silently.

“So,” She continues.

A small smile graces your lips. “So…”

Her tongue darts out and brushes against her lower lip swiftly. You try not to follow the movement too closely, but you’d be silly to act like it doesn’t affect you.

“I broke up with her.”

You give her a small nod. “I heard.”

“She didn’t take it well.”

“I figured.”

Another lapse of silence filters into the conversation.

“You can always talk to me, you know.” You continue to watch her, despite the fact that she’s currently avoiding your gaze. “Even if it may be a hard conversation…I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Hmm.” Sevika seems to be far away–mentally.

You don’t know how to bring her back to the present. Back to you.

“Did you know–” Her voice breaks and eyes dart to you. “I was married at one point.”

Your mind swarms. Suddenly, you're pushed back to last week, when Mel accidentally revealed Sevika’s divorce to you. It was a shocking secret to be told. But you felt guilty being told such a thing. So you desperately tried to store it in a place in your brain where it would be easily forgettable.

Until now.

“What am I saying–Of course you know.” She mumbles. It’s quieter. Almost an afterthought. “Mel called me and explained that she had accidentally told you. At first, I was upset. But I realized that she told…you, of all people. You would understand. You always do.” She presses her left palm into the duvet, leaning nearly all of her weight on it. “So I waited for you.” Her eyes lift to yours. Your breath catches. “...To say something,” She rushes. Oh. Clearing her throat, “I waited for you to bring it up. But you never did.” She looks at you like she’s never seen you before, registering every detail of your face with a sense of wonder. “Why?”

You look back with slight confusion because the answer feels obvious. At least for you it does. “When I find out information like that, I want it to be because you’ve told me. And if it hasn’t come from you, then it's not my place to know.”

“I would have told you–”

“Sev,” Your hand lands on hers. Her skin feels soft underneath yours. “I love learning new things about you because I know how you are. Opening up doesn’t come easy for you. But you’re not entitled to me. So I’m happy to experience whatever parts of yourself that you’re willing to share. And if that means that it takes you a while to tell me things like this,” You shrug, squeezing her hand. “Then it takes you a while. I’m okay with that. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, of course you aren’t. You’re bedridden.”

“Oh god.”

She laughs.

Her hand twitches underneath yours, knuckles grazing the inner parts of your palm. “My wife and I were together for 12 years.” She starts again. “We got married young, and for a long while, things were good.” She peers out of your window, her brown study returning. “But we grew up–we changed. She wanted kids and a life outside of my parents house. She didn’t like that we had moved. She didn’t like the town. She missed the city. She missed our old way of things. And my parent’s death…Well, I’ve always believed that it was the beginning of our end. Our trajectory of life stopped coinciding. That made me angry. I had lost my parents. I had lost my current life; the comfort of routines and traditions that I had made. And now I was losing her too. That felt–” Her lips press into a thin line. “I don’t think I had ever felt so hollow before then.”

It’s almost as if the light that consistently hovers above her is now dimmed. You try to imagine a Sevika that isn’t full of life.

A Sevika that doesn’t find even the tiniest bits of happiness in the most mundane activities. A joyless Sevika who doesn’t find humor in your cooking failures and embarrassing childhood stories. A Sevika who you do not know–who is so different from the one that sits before you today. It’s nearly unfathomable.

“I tried to make things right but it just wasn’t working. Living in my parents house was too much. And even more so after the divorce. Too many memories. Too many emotions. The town…Well, there was a reason that I originally moved away from there in the first place. She had moved across the country anyways, and hadn’t looked back after our papers were finalized. I wanted a fresh start too. So I sold my parents' home, packed up and flew back here.”

Somehow, while she was talking, her fingers had become entwined with yours. For a moment, you believe that you feel her pulse. It’s racing.

You feel boneless from the realization.

You want to open your mouth and ask her if she’s alright, but a part of you also doesn't want to push her too quickly.

“When Mel and Alicia told me about you, that you were looking for a roommate,” She wets her lips again. “They had given me all these warnings about you. How particular you are about things. That you’re easily…perturbed. And slightly immature. And a bit odd.”

You scoff, ready to object and fume at the thought of them doing such a thing. But she only regards you with a warm chuckle and smile.

“And,” She adds quickly. “I was a bit thrown off at first. But I also knew that there was a reason they were recommending you to me. And when I met you, it clicked. It just made sense. That feeling of being empty,” Her hands grip yours tighter. “It was gone the first time I saw you. And I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you. Everytime that I breathe the same air as you–everyday that passes with you in my life. That's not…that's not normal. It wasn't my normal, at least.”

Something inside of you breaks.

“And the fact that we were becoming friends, and that we lived together?” She continues. “It felt dangerous. Seeing you that much, being near you that much, and wanting to have more of that. While also not not wanting to ruin things…” You can tell that she’s struggling to vocalize her thoughts in a comprehensible manner. It almost feels as if she wants to say so many things at once. “Then I met Monica. And that was good. That was safer. Because she’s great, and I liked her, and she was familiar...You know? Being with her didn't make me want. It didn't fill me up, not like you…And I needed that. I needed…” Her words hang in the air as she tries to reach for a further grasp of her feelings.

“God, am I making any sense?” She turns back to you, eyes completely blown out now. You’ve never seen her so desperate... She doesn't wait for you to answer. “But then I realized that I wasn't being fair to myself. That I couldn't keep restraining myself. And not to say that I was unhappy with Monica. But she wasn't you. It's you that pulls it out of me. That makes me feel. That annoys me like no other yet manages to weave yourself into the innermost parts of myself.”

For a few seconds, the world stops spinning. And you're just a person, who’s staring back at another beautiful person, feeling seen for the first time ever in your life.

Because she gets it.

Because it’s exactly how you’ve felt ever since she came barging into your life.

You want to speak, but your voice is trapped at the back of your throat.

“I don’t expect for you to respond or for anything to change. It’s probably best that things don’t for now.” Her head is shaking, eyes downcast at your entwined hands. “I just wanted to explain it to you.”

And that’s what really cuts through to you.

Sevika isn’t the type of person to be impulsive. In fact, there’s been multiple times when her constant state of contemplation has annoyed you. So this is particularly out of character for her; to break up with Monica out of nowhere and confess said feelings.

You want to welcome it. But she’s right. This can’t happen. Not yet.

You’re smacked again with the reality of today, and you feel as if you’re experiencing a kind of vertigo. Sevika senses it.

Gently, she stands to her feet, careful not to rock your bed unnecessarily.

“You should rest.”

You don’t object. Instead, you nod, wanting to do nothing more than take a nap and hopefully wake up with a lighter weight on your shoulders. Fatigue floods you without warning.

“Okay,” You mumble, allowing your body to snuggle deeper into the blankets.

It’s only when she’s halfway through the door threshold that she pauses, peering at you over her shoulder to say, “If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room.”

The reminder brings you more comfort than you realize. Enough comfort, in fact, that you finally let yourself drift off into a peaceful slumber.

“I’m just glad you weren’t seriously hurt,” Vander mumbles. His voice is muffled as he takes a bite of his steak. He sits in the seat across from you, mouth almost fully covered by the remarkable amount of facial hair he’s managed to grow since you last saw him. But his eyes speak a thousand words. They gleam with a hint of sorrow. And for a few seconds, you watch as they glide over to Sevika, growing even more delicate before returning to you. “You're the only one who laughs at my jokes.”

You smile, swirling your spoon through the contents of food left in your bowl.

Your left leg is draped over your right, which is something that pained you to do a few days ago. You’re glad to finally be able to sit at the dinner table. The bruises from the airbag and seat belt are slowly beginning to heal. And for the first time in three days, you aren’t confined to your bed watching old reruns of The Nanny. The moment you were able to walk across your room without wincing too badly, you asked Sevika to invite Vander and Hazel over for lunch. It would be something to look forward to, since you have yet to be cleared for your return to work. Plus, you really like them.

“Because,” Hazel interjects. “Your jokes are terrible.”

“They’re a little outdated…” He rolls his eyes. “But they-”

“People like them because they’re entirely unfunny.” She continues. “It’s like seeing an ugly sweater and thinking, God. This is so fucking ugly…I love it.”

A belly laugh leaves you. The kind that nearly has you keeling over with a gummy smile.

In doing so, your socked foot accidentally bumps into one of Sevika’s shins. She’s sitting beside you, eating her food quietly with annoyingly perfect table manners. Her cologne wafts towards you for a split second and it’s crisp. And spicy. And enticingly bitter-sweet.

Her chain necklace clashes against the silver pendant that is also hanging from her neck. And her palm settles onto your knee; fingers spreading firmly against the material of your leggings with incredible sensitivity.

“Sorry,” You mumble.

“You’re good.” But her hand doesn’t retract its touch. Instead, her thumb works into the side of your leg, motions circular. You don't think you've ever been so high off of a simple touch.

Even when she pulls away, your fingers hold your spoon with a death grip and your knee tingles.

Later on, when Hazel and Vander are long gone, a sense of comfort washes over you.

Seconds before Sevika begins to wash the dishes, she brings a chair into the kitchen for you to sit in.

“That way, you can annoy me while I clean,” She mumbles, eyes downcast towards the sink. You know that it’s just an excuse for you two to be near each other. You don’t mind.

You observe her in the peaceful hush of the evening. She has an odd habit of insisting to wash the dishes herself, even though the dishwasher works perfectly fine. You usually don’t object, since Sevika always seems to take extra joy in domestic activities. But you don’t believe that you’ve fully appreciated it until now.

She stands over the sink with the sleeves of her flannel shirt rolled up to her elbows. Her hair has gotten longer, practically touching her shoulders now, and a few wispy strands get in the way of her face. She seems entirely pure right then–forehead creasing with effort and lips pursing in concentration. There’s only the sound of the running water and your racing heart. An emotion close to something deeply reverential fills you.

You’re wrapped up in one of her spare quilts that she’s given you. It smells like her. It feels like she couldn’t be any closer to you. And you feel silly for being so moved by a simple gesture. It shouldn’t feel so intimate. It shouldn’t mean so much to you. But it does.

She glances up at you briefly, almost to check as if you’re still there. And when your eyes lock, you tighten your hold on the quilt. She’s caught you staring.

But you don’t think you have the bandwidth to be able to say anything on the matter.

Of course, Sevika has caught you staring at her countless times before.

But for some reason, this time holds meaning. It has weight, and it feels like solid ground has been placed underneath you. The two of you idle that way for a while. Sevika ignores the running water and her soapy hands.

You’re reminded of the moment, days prior, when she sat on your bed and confessed the unfathomable to you:

I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you.

That sentence rings through your brain so hard that you feel as if your skull rattles.

It's not until you’re sure every one of your bones will break, when she looks away. She resumes her task of dish cleaning and you hover on your stool, struggling to find something more to say.

Mel shivers besides you, wrapping one of your spare blankets around her tightly as she exhales loudly. The two of you are now outside, right in front of the apartment.

You stand much more still, wrapped in multiple layers and a scarf, and hands warm due to the mittens that Sevika gifted you a while back.

“Is it really necessary to wait for her out here?” Mel grumbles. “I’ll turn into ice soon.”

“She’s just a few minutes away.” You crane your neck to look at her levelly. “I told you to stay inside, Mel.”

“And let you wait out here in the dark by yourself?” She frowns, shivering once more.

The leaves rustle in the howling wind, and the night sky is so black that it almost looks dark blue in the moonlight. It’s getting to the time of year where sunsets are occurring sooner. Days are shortening and the weather is incredibly cold. Usually, you find this season a bit hard to enjoy. But Sevika does a good job of keeping the fireplace lit. She has a special recipe of soup that is always ready if you want some and she keeps the storage closet stocked with clean quilts in case you get cold at night. She looks after you more than you do yourself sometimes.

You’re starting to believe that this time of year isn't so bad after all.

“Do you always wait for her out here?” Mel asks. Her voice has grown quieter; tender. You glance at her out of the corner of your eye and you find that she’s gazing at you inquisitively. There’s something about this question that makes you want to shrink a little.

You don’t have the courage to meet her gaze full-on.

“Only if she needs help carrying things.”

“And…she doesn’t mind?”

“I think it took her by surprise at first. She would insist that I stay inside and that she doesn’t need help. But, I would feel bad and still help. I guess now,” You shrug. “It’s just become…a thing.”

You feel like you’re being interrogated.

Sure, Mel has been over since she moved out. But you guess she’s never visited long enough to really see how you and Sevika live.

It makes you feel anxious. Is there something bizarre about your livelihood now? It’s different from the routines that you and Mel had, but it’s not bad… right? Why does she keep grinning like that?

As if on cue, the blinding bright lights of Sevika’s vehicle appears.

“Finally.” Mel grumbles.

You bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile while the black truck grows near. You squint from the headlights, which Sevika turns off almost immediately. Then you’re walking towards the driver's door.

She grins, per usual, through the tinted window. Her full lips are stretched wide tonight, showing a breathtaking smile, as she opens the door and hops down with ease.

“You’re crazy.” She mutters. But her smile remains. “You didn’t have to wait out here in the cold. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m warm.”

“You’re sniffling.” She sends you a narrow glance as she opens the back door and reaches for her work bag.

“Where’s the food?”

“On the other side. I figured I could grab i–” She pauses as you walk around the vehicle and open the passenger door. Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

“You didn’t…”

“I was hoping to surprise you.” She calls.

“You…” Coherent sentences fail to leave your lips as you reach for the oversized paper-brown bag sitting in the seat.

It’s from one of your favorite restaurants, a small shop that usually is open seasonally. You were waiting for it to re-open this year, and have been counting down the days to drive down and place your favorite order. It’s something that you’ve mentioned to Sevika only a few times, but you never thought she would be able to remember it. And with everything that has happened lately, you certainly hadn’t thought that she would go out of her way to find the place.

The truck is too large for you to be able to see her face. So you grab the food and close the door, walking around the front of the truck to see her and Mel talking to each other quietly.

“You didn’t have to get this.” You say, hugging the food to your chest. It’s warm.

Mel whispers something to Sevika as the latter turns back to you. She looks cozy at that moment. Her trench coat is black and she’s wearing a creme beanie, which appears to be keeping her ears warm. You watch as she pushes her tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of her nose and purses her lips.

Her lips.

They look moisturized. There’s a slight gleam to them, a telltale sign that she’s applied more lip balm, and they seem puffier than normal. As if she’s been chewing on them...

She surveys you from head to toe, zeroing in on the mittens that you’re wearing before she hums underneath her breath.

“I wanted to.” She replies.

Your chest constricts. Your eyelids flutter and a sigh escapes.

Mel clears her throat. “Can you two pause the flirting so we go inside? I’m freezing my ass off!"

She doesn’t wait for a response.

Instead, she snickers at the way your eyes widen before running past you and towards the apartment.

You're bundled up wordlessly on the couch, cookies in hand as you watch Sevika bolt into the living room with a spatula.

Hazel cheers from the recliner, and Vander sits only a few feet away from you. He also stands to his feet, face reddening as his hands clench into fists. All three pairs of eyes are glued to the television screen, and your ears ring once more as your friends let out rounds of applause.

“They're trying for another one?” Sevika asks, voice full of mirth.

Vander doesn't break his gaze away from the screen when he answers, “They have enough time to do it. I wouldn't be surprised!”

It's another football Sunday.

You don't follow sports closely so you can't exactly say that you understand the intricacies of what they're talking about. But you can guess that their team is winning by the ridiculous grin on Sevika’s face. She’s supposed to be making lunch, but she keeps returning from the kitchen to get an update on the score. You think it's a funny sight to see, considering the fact that there's a television in the kitchen where she can watch the game. But it’s probably more enjoyable to be viewing it with everyone else.

“Who’s the goalie again?” You ask, hoping to get a reaction out of Sevika. She doesn't particularly enjoy when you fuck up the football terminology. The first few times it was accidental. Now you just do it because you know it'll get a rise out of her.

“Sweetheart…” She doesn't look at you, turning on her heels to walk back to the kitchen. Despite the pet name, you see the slight shake of her head, and there's also a buried layer of tightness in her voice.

It takes all of your strength to refrain from laughing. “It's only a question!”

“Do you not remember my answer from the last dozen times you’ve asked this?” Her voice reverberates off the kitchen walls and travels to where you are in the living room. Before you can reply, Hazel and Vander jump out of their seat again, this time screeching unbearably loud.

“That was a fucking foul!” Hazel’s eyes are deadly as they glare at the screen. Vander's jaw begins to grind.

You hear the sound of footsteps before Sevika appears again, this time with frazzled eyes and a towel draped over her shoulder.

“What happened?”

You swing your leg at the very last minute, muscles tensing as your eyes widen towards the spill before you. “Shit!”

Then you’re laughing at yourself, nearly causing another spill from your piping hot mug of tea.

“Oh god.” Mel grumbles but you can hear a smile in her tone. “What have you done now?”

Another giggle leaves you. “I can’t walk without spilling apparently.”

Within seconds, Mel is already wiping the tile floor with a clean towel.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You profess, making your way towards her sitting room. You’re visiting the house that she and Alicia have just recently purchased. It’s a bit ostentatious for your liking. But it’s everything that Mel deserves. A part of you even believes that she’ll forever deserve so much more–an entire kingdom of her own if she truly desires.

“Of course!” She croons. “Every time I help you with your messes.”

“....I wouldn’t say every time.”

Her hand slides to your lower back, guiding you towards the nearest piece of furniture. Even though the accident was a a few weeks ago, she still treats you as if you’re susceptible to breaking at any moment. It’s been a little suffocating. But you’re still grateful for her nonetheless.

“Is that a new sweater?” She asks while you sit down. Your gaze falls to the crew neck that you’re wearing, a strong whiff of cologne filling your nostrils.

“Oh. No.” You tug at the collar. “It's Sev’s.”

Silence looms in the air as you anxiously wait for her response. This is a new development. It's not often that you're walking around with Sevika's articles of clothing.

But Mel’s response never comes. When you peer at her, she regards you with gentle eyes and lips that slowly curve. She says nothing more on the subject.

Instead, she hands you the bowl of fresh soup she’s just made. “It's hot. Be careful.”

Of course you don't listen and burn your tongue upon the first sip.

And, as always, Mel scolds you.

And then she helps you.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t stressed out.

Between handling the car repairs from the accident and updating the insurance claim, as well as the weird energy now circling you and Sevika—everything just seems to be a little too much right now.

The first mishap is when Sevika comes home from work to find you with both of your arms hanging in the air, and wax strips attached to your armpits. You usually like to pick up hobbies when you’re stressed out and you’ve always wanted to try waxing. But you hadn’t thoroughly watched the youtube video. So what was originally supposed to be an exciting new activity, quickly became anything but that.

You had been pacing the living room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to work up the courage to pull off the strip. That’s when Sevika unlocks the front door and walks through the threshold, bundled up in layers of clothing as a draft from the chilly evening is brought in with her.

You halt your steps, eyes widening and nose still running.

She blinks back at you, just as bewildered, with lips forming into an 'O' and eyes trailing up and down your physique. “Is everything okay?”

That’s what causes the dam to break; your vision blurs and your chest rises with panic. Then you're crying, “I can’t rip it off!” Your arms raise again, flailing in the air ridiculously as you bring your armpits to the center of her attention.

Her eyebrows lift as realization dawns on her. “Oh,” Is that amusement? Slowly, her lips stretch into a small grin and her eyes begin to sparkle in a way that you usually adore. But not now. Not during an emergency! “Oh, sweetheart.” Her lips press against each other, a poor attempt to hide her mirth, as she kicks the door shut and locks it. Then she’s walking towards you, “Surely, it’s not that bad.”

“It’s awful!” Your eyes start to well again as you gesture towards your pits.

She concedes, gazing at you with an annoying amount of warmth. “Okay, it’s awful.”

You can tell that she’s agreeing with you just to provide comfort. And you hate that it almost works.

“I’ve waited too long, Sev. My skin will rip off!”

She laughs.

Laughs!

You cry harder.

“You’re really,” She inhales deeply, trying to calm her chuckles. “...Quite the thespian.”

“Sevika!”

“Okay, okay. Here,” One of her hands press into the small of your back and guides you towards the nearby couch. “I’ll help. Just breathe.”

Your stress manifests itself in other ways, like when you start bringing home files from your job and reviewing them at night. It’s what you do to keep yourself busy—to keep yourself from hanging around Sevika like a lost puppy every night.

You can tell that she notices it. She stops by your room every once and a while to check on you, and when your replies are uncharacteristically short, she hovers.

She doesn’t truly address it until the fifth night rolls around and you’re holed up in your room again, sitting on your bed with small mountains of paperwork around you. As always, she knocks on the door, you tell her to come in, and she pads into the room with a cup of tea and a snack for you.

When you peer up at her, you notice that she’s wearing one of those cotton t-shirts that always look heavenly on her. Sweatpants hang loosely from her hips, dipping just enough to where you catch a glimpse of her happy trail. And her v-lines are so deep that they’re practically etched into stone. You blink through clouds of brain fog, trying to will yourself to continue breathing. But it’s hard.

“You should take a break,” She mumbles.

Pulling your eyes away from her, you move your paperwork aside, stretching out the sore muscles in your legs. “I’m not, like,” You blink once more. She smells so good. “Overwhelmed or anything.”

Carefully, she places the mug on your nightstand. You watch as her eyes remain downcast. Her hair is freshly washed, slightly damped and tucked behind her ears. The ends are a bit split now, resting ever-so-slightly against the tops of her broad shoulders.

“Here,” She holds out the small ceramic plate towards you. It has a couple of toasted butter croissants. One of your favorites.

Nimbly, you take the plate. Without thinking, you pull your legs to your chest, “You can sit,” And your eyes travel to the spot in your bed where your feet once were. She appraises you for a few seconds, a habit of hers that you’ve grown accustomed to. However, at this moment, it’s difficult to not feel affected by it. It’s difficult to ignore the way that it makes you yearn for so many things.

When she sits down, you notice that it’s much closer than you anticipated.

Then she mutters, “Are you avoiding me?”

So much for beating around the bush.

Something about the way she cuts straight to the point–the way that her gaze has yet to leave you–makes your gut twist. You take this moment as an opportunity to shove a piece of croissant into your mouth.

“Because if you are–” Her right palm presses into the duvet. It’s only inches away from your foot. “If it’s about what I told you last month, then we can just act like that never happened.”

You swallow your mouthful of food, wincing slightly because you failed to chew it completely before doing so. When you glance back up at Sevika, you marvel at the swirl of her irises. She considers you seriously with bated breath.

Then, that’s when you feel it; the sense of complete satisfaction.

Because of her.

A part of you feels silly because how on earth could you run from this? And why would you ever want to avoid this? Avoid her?

There’s an element of stress that you’ve been feeling because this is all new. And it’s scary, and single handedly the reason why she broke up with Monica. But it’s also real and rare and, because of that, something that should absolutely be cherished. Not thrown away.

I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you.

Over the course of this past month, those words have repeated so much in your mind that they’re practically tattooed onto your hippocampus. It’s all you’ve been able to think about, even during the shifts at your job. Even during the calls with your insurance company and the repair shop.

Sevika’s voice always manages to sit at the forefront.

The bed squeaks as she leans more weight onto her left hand, an action that allows her to shift closer to you. You rest your plate beside you on a pillow, croissants and hunger now discarded.

“We don’t have to forget it.” You find yourself saying. You think of the countless mornings that she makes you breakfast, and the times that she sits with you in the living room despite her lack of interest in the television programs you pick. You think of the evenings that you stand outside the apartment, waiting for her to arrive home from the store; how she always bears the heaviest grocery loads in spite of your objections.

Shaking your head, you correct yourself. “I don’t want to forget it.”

Your mind travels to all the other moments that you’ve shared with Sevika. The notes that she leaves on the refrigerator, encouraging you to have a good day. And the spare blankets that she always washes for you; in case you become cold during the night.

Then there's the fact that she doesn’t become angry at your music playing in the late hours of the day. And her unwavering forgiveness after everything that happened with Monica; after all the times you’ve tested her patience.

“It’s just that this is so new,” You gesture to the small space between you and her. “And I don’t want to mess it up. And on top of that, I’m trying to navigate everything with the car wreck. It’s just... It’s hard.” Your breathing becomes uneven when you exhale.

“I can help.” She shifts closer. The tips of her fingers nearly brush against your socked foot.

“I can’t ask that of you. It’s my mess.”

“It can be my mess too.” Smiling, she dips her head to level her gaze. Her breath wafts towards you and it smells of peppermint. “I don’t mind.”

“But–”

“It’s not a problem at all for me. Nothing about you is.”

She doesn’t quite touch you, but you don’t know if what she’s doing is much different. With her sitting so close…you’re not sure if it truly matters. You can still feel the heat of her skin radiating off of her, as well as the warmth of her piercing stare. She watches you with eyes that could work out every kink in your body upon a single glance.

“You’re already giving me rides to and from work,” You begin. This is your last try—your final effort to keep her at arms length. “It’s too kind of you, Sev.”

Sevika’s always been the polite one out of you two—that’s not a secret. And it’s even been joked about a few times by Mel.

“Why don’t you want me to be here for you?” Her head tilts as she asks this.

You blink, almost perplexed, “Well there has to be an expiration date at some point, right?”

Her response is slow. “...I’m not following.”

“For you to always be so acquiescent,” You rub your palms against the top of your thighs. “Even when I have nothing to give you in return. It doesn't make sense. There has to be a point where you won't feel so obliged anymore. An expiration date—” Your rambling halts when her hand wraps around your ankle. Gently, she presses her thumb against the base of your shin, then she works into your skin. A delicate massage.

Slowly, she tugs. You allow your leg to be pulled towards her. Pretty soon, your other leg follows and she readjusts herself, so that the back of your thighs are almost resting on her lap. She's close. Really close.

Even though your heart is racing, out of mere instinct your hands stretch towards her.

“An expiration date will happen at some point and you won't want this. You won't want…me. And that's okay. Really. It’s—”

“Not possible.” When she smiles, you fall apart. It's the worst kind of heartbreak; the kind that’s painstakingly beautiful.

One of her hands continue to drape over your thighs, holding you in her lap as if you’re something to revere. Her other hand settles on top of your restless fingers, which happen to be kneading the hem of her shirt. She halts your fidgeting with a small squeeze.

“That’s not possible,” She echoes, this time a little quieter.

Her pupils are dilated with a fixed gaze, zeroing in on your nose. Then your lips. Oh.

As time passes, you try to swallow but you can't.

Out of complete desire, you reach up and allow your fingertips to brush against the warmth of her skin. She watches you cautiously, almost alarmed, because you’ve never done anything like this before. Your knuckles graze alongside the sharpness of her cheekbones. With bated breath, she waits. Waits and waits and waits while you feel every inch of her skin.

It's unknown territory that you've stepped into. Yet it feels entirely natural all the same.

Your lips part when she leans in, and another cloud of her scent wafts around you. It soothes you and that fullness inside of you peaks to the highest of heights. It bursts, creating an impactful explosion—so much so that you can no longer hold yourself back.

You swallow, finally, and lean forward too. It feels like too much time has passed when you close the distance. Her breathing stutters, eyes remaining on your lips before they flutter shut within the millisecond that she meets you.

Then, all at once, you feel your skin buzz. You hear the soaring of your heart when it shoots high up into the sky. You taste the sweetness of her lips and the warmth of her breath. It's good. Too good.

When she moans, the sound vibrates into you. It zooms past the thudding of your heart, through the walls of your veins and soles of your feet. Your body reacts and you angle closer to her immediately.

She pulls you into her lap with ease. Because that's how it always is with Sevika: easy. Kissing her is innate and you start to question how you’ve denied yourself such a privilege all this time.

Sevika with her soft skin and shining grey eyes and warm smiles. This is her in front of you, kissing you back and accepting all that you're giving her without question. Without hesitation.

This is real.

You press into her again as your arms lock around her shoulders. Another moan leaves her.

This is definitely real.

It's not until your pulling away for air when you allow your eyes to open.

The room is practically spinning. Oh god.

She nips at your neck while her hands find solace underneath your shirt. Her palms are flat against your lower back and fingers spread. And when something soft escapes your throat, her lips curve into a smile. She helps you sink lower into her lap—you're practically humping her now—with a grip that is both heady and encouraging.

“You can have me,” She says, her breath hot against your skin.

You blink slowly, scrambling to keep up with the sound of her voice.

You're slow to reply, so she pulls you two apart, just so that she can look directly at you. Her forefinger brushes against the tip of your chin, eyes locking with yours, and expression full of intent.

“Anything you want,” She mutters. It's hard to not become distracted by her lips; they're puffier than usual from the kissing. “Just say the words and I’ll give it to you.”

You're not sure why it happens at this exact moment, but your muscles lock up. Your vision starts to blur as you peer at her with swimming orbs, hands gripping her shoulders shakily.

Shit. You're definitely in too deep now...

"That's dangerous.”

She watches you for a few moments longer. Then, “How so?”

“Because I’ll want all of you.” A tear trickles down your cheek. Your cards are now laid out on the table.

“Then have all of me.”

Your hand curls around the back of her neck when she kisses your cheek—right where your tear is.

“Just take it. All of it,” She whispers. Another kiss, this time it lingers longer. “I'm yours to have anyways.”

That breaks you. Truly breaks you.

It’s hard to wrap your brain around how serious she is. But you start to believe her when her fingers push into you for the first time, eliciting a whimper from your lips. And as her fingers reach deeper and deeper, she swallows every sound you make with visceral pleasure. It satisfies her beyond anything famothable, to work into you and watch you unfold before her. Knowing that such a thing pleases her is what drives you mad.

It’s what has you crying please, please, please when she thrusts into you, watching you thank whatever God can hear you.

Then she begins to tell you that you can let go, and that you’re doing so good.

Because, you're really fucking special, and she wants you to know that. To feel that.

Because she needs you to know that. She needs this and she needs you. She will never stop needing you.

Because, God, you're so fucking perfect.

And when you’re cresting with tears rolling down your cheeks, blubbering about her having your heart and that she’s it for you—because you're certain there’ll never be anyone else—

She’s nodding, starry eyed and wanting, whispering, IknowIknowIknow as each thrust is fucked into you with delicious fervor.

Because, you're it for her too.

And she doesn't mind helping you realize that. Even if you demand that she drills it into you for the rest of the night.

#piscespetals writing #au writing #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #fanfic #arcane netflix #fluff #arcane women #smut is always a challenge for me to write but here's my rendition of it i suppose #there'll be more of in the chapter five #roommate!sevika #sevika writing #sevika pls marry me

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vivalarevolution · 1 year

Text

𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝔀𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻

Jake Sully x Avatar Reader

Request: „Hiii can I request part 2 of melodrama? Maybe when Jake and reader leave their avatars and are as humans after they mate?‟

A/N: Part two to of Melodrama , requested by anon. I'm very pleased that first part was so loved by others and I am hoping that this one gonna get all the love it deserve as well.

English is not my native tongue so mistakes may happen. Also work contains slight smut , minors do not interact.

Part 1

Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the light on her. And unfortunately, it was not natural light from Pandora, but lamps from the unit in which they stayed.

Dissatisfied, she opened her eyes slowly, closing them almost immediately as the brightness hurt her delicate pupils.

-Don't pretend, I know you're with us - Grace said right next to the young woman's ear.

-A man can dream - she murmured softly, wiping her face from fatigue - Why did I come back? - she asked, sitting down slowly.

-Why didn't you come back, that's a better question - the doctor pointed out - You're coming back for the night, remember?

-I remember - she replied, looking at Augustine.

-What took you so long? - she wondered - Jake didn't want to tell me, so maybe I'll find answer from you.

Y/n put her head down. Of course he didn't told them. Maybe it was good in the end, maybe it was better to keep what they did a secret, even if it hurt her heart.

-We finally became part of the clan - she began, trying to modulate her voice to sound confident - Omaticaya threw a party because of it. It's very likely that we both went too crazy, that's all - she lied smoothly, not stuttering for a second.

-You're hiding something from me - replied the older woman bluntly - But I'll ask you more thoroughly later, first you have to eat.

-Okay mom - Y/n whispered sarcastically, standing up.

-Well, someone has to be if you forget you have another body - she announced with her arms folded - This one needs to be taken care of too.

She didn't answer, walking past her to get to the table where the food was and the source of her temporary problems was sitting. As she approached, she looked back for a moment. The rest of their crew was asleep, and only then did the woman realize that it was nearly five in the morning. Jake and Y/n were the only people up now because Grace was already on her bed after making sure they got up and ate like they should have done hours ago.

-Hi there marine - she said softly, tentatively kissing his cheek, which was rough with a day's beard.

Sully looked up at her. She was as exhausted as he was, but she still didn't shy away from the tenderness in her voice and the gentleness in her eyes. He smiled noticing it.

-Hi - he replied, following her movements.

Y/n seeing how his eyes wandered unpunished to the lower parts of her body, she grabbed his chin, lifting it quickly up. Placing one of her hands on her hip, she frowned and tilted her head, looking meaningfully at him.

-My eyes are up here - she remarked, and the man smiled sheepishly.

-Sorry, I got distracted - he announced, and the young woman only muttered something under her breath before her thumb began to run over his cheek.

-You need to shave that facial hear or you'll look like a sasquatch - she said suddenly - I prefer the second version, I'm used to smooth skin.

-I fell offended - he said, but she just gave him a malicious look, the same one he'd seen a few hours ago.

Jake watched as she moved around the small room with the same grace as in the body of her avatar. Her hair was much shorter and her hips wider, but that didn't stop him from fantasizing, even though he'd been scolded for it a few minutes ago. Only when she again turned back to him did he give her an innocent look.

He waited for a biting remark from her but surprisingly it didn't come, which caused him to frown in consternation.

-I'll sit on your lap - she said, though it sounded like a question mixed with an announcement.

-Is that a question or a statement? - the man asked.

-Both - she whispered, carefully sitting down.

Sully studied her carefully. The way she was looking for things in the cosmetic bag, the way she was grabbing the food she was eating with her free hand, the way she watched him out of the corner of her eye, making sure he was comfortable enough, even though she was the one who was tense.

-You don't have to worry about them - he started and she stopped any activities - You used to not care about them - he remarked, remembering that it was the first aspect that attracted him to her so much.

-I don't ... - she started but after a moment she sighed, letting her hands limply fall between her hips - Now it's different - she said uncertainly.

-Why? - he asked - Two days ago you were bragging about how you would finally win a race with someone - he noticed, trying to cheer her up.

-Now I care - she confessed, finally looking at him.

-It doesn't change anything - he replied, leaning back in the seat.

-This changes everything - she announced, frowning in irritation, one of the habits she carried with her everywhere.

Suddenly, Jake pulled her to him, connecting their lips in a slow kiss. Y/n, not expecting that, moaned softly and quickly grabbed his arms, indulging in the caress.

-I would be grateful if a woman who used sarcasm as her everyday language and does not shy away from jokes and laughter returned to me - he said after a moment, taking her cheek in his hand.

-And I would like a blue giant with a smooth face, not everyone can have what they want, marine - she bit back with a hum of irony, placing her forehead on his torso.

-Soon - he announced, stroking her back, which was half exposed through the woman's short shirt.

The feeling of cold hands on her waist made goosebumps appear on her skin, but she still accepted the brunette's touch with great desire, wanting only more and more. That's why she didn't like it when he pulled away from her, and there was a shadow of doubt in his eyes, a shadow of tearing.

-Oh God...- the woman whispered almost inaudibly - You regret it - she added and before Jake could explain himself, she got up, running away from him.

At first he wanted to scream to stop her, even though the room was so small that Y/n had nowhere to really run away, but he stopped with a heavy heart watching as she lay down on the bed, hiding under the blanket.

Rubbing his face, he began to think hard. Quaritch's words suddenly became louder than ever, overwhelming and irritating even more as his eyes stared at the woman who had stolen his heart.

He found himself between a rock and a hard place, and whichever path he chose, each of them had serious consequences.

Even though her eyes were closed, her mind had been working for a long time.

She could feel wet grass under her fingertips, and feeling of warmth on her back that radiated from the avatar lying behind her, wrapping her body like ivy. She wondered whether to get up and disappear before he woke up or wait and look into his eyes, throw away everything she held in her heart.

But before she made a fully satisfying decision, the man behind her began to move, catching her in an even tighter embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

-I know you're awake, Y/n. You got in earlier than me - he said.

-Brave of you not being afraid that I'll cut you after what I discovered - she noted angrily, and her tail involuntarily began to move quickly back and forth between their bodies.

-You didn't let me explain - he remarked, propping himself up on his hand so he could look at her.

-Your eyes were enough - she stated, trying to get up, but Jake's strong hand made it impossible.

Sully pinned her to the ground, his hands grabbing her wrists but Y/n quickly wrapped her legs around his waist, turning both of them so she was now sitting on his pelvis, however she still couldn't moved her arms.

-It's not because of you! - he said firmly, shifting his position efficiently to have any advantage even if it was only height - My inner struggle is not caused by what is between us.

-Then why don't you tell me? Why don't you tell me what's bothering you? - she asked angrily, flattening her ears - I'm not worth it knowing your secrets?

- You are worth it, you are more than worth it ,that's why I don't want to tell you because I'm not sure that I won't lose you - he replied looking into her yellow irises - I love you, you stubborn woman and I'm not going to let you out of my reach , not now not never.

-You love me? - she whispered, suddenly forgetting their sharp exchange.

She just hadn't heard this words in so long.

-Of course, everything that was and is between us. It's all real - he assured, connecting their foreheads - I just want to protect you, make sure you are safe - he added in a whisper.

-What have you gotten yourself into, Jake? - the woman asked in a motherly voice, catching his face in her hands.

The avatar didn't respond, kissing her soft lips, needing to be intoxicated by them once more. His hands traced a path through Y/n's body to her braid, which became his main focus. Their second connection was just as intense and erotic as the first. Just as overwhelming and insufficient at the same time.

Young woman wanted to think rationally, to dig to the root of the matter, but her mind was clouded by lust that was too tempting not to give in.

-Jake - she choked out, but he silenced her with one of many kisses.

-Let me apologize, okay? - he murmured in a low tone of voice, sliding down to her neck where there were livid marks from their last intercourse - And what better way than to worship the woman you love?

At these words, Y/n shivered, not knowing if she hated or loved how her body reacted to Sully's hoarse voice and his big warm hands, covering parts of her skin so perfectly.

When the new road of wet kisses ended in a place familiar to him, the golden eyes of the man found those belonging to his mate, whose pupils were already dilated, ears slightly placed, and the tail was wagging slowly rubbing against his shoulder from time to time. His lips involuntarily approached her womanhood hidden behind long but thin material, while his tongue started tasted her sweet juices.

A grunt and then a growl. That was the last warning before Jake caught her in an iron grip, feasting between her legs like a hungry animal ready to devour her at any moment. But the woman secretly enjoyed it, the feeling of being adored was welcome, even if it sounded selfish.

Her fingers involuntarily found their place in his hair, pulling them like reins as her bottom hung up in the position in which the avatar had placed her.

Every lick, every suck, every kiss drove her into sheer madness, and she decided not to keep it to herself only.

-Jake! So close , please! - she moaned, arching her back.

In response, the man thrust his tongue into her tight, wet canal, and it caused her to collapse like a fragile ancient temple, the temple where Sully held his prayers.

-So perfect, so perfect for me - he purred as he kissed every inch of her face - I'm gonna go inside now, yeah? Be good and open your legs wide.

The woman complied without hesitation, whimpering as his heavy member rubbed against her sensitive labia before he entered her, agonyally slowly, filling her to the brim.

-Jake - she moaned, hugging his neck tightly, clinging to his body like a second skin.

-I love you - he whispered into her ear - I love you, I love you.

-I love you - she repeated alternately with him, so quickly drunk by the erotic sensation - Forever yours.

-Forever mine - he replied, slowing his movements to look into the eyes of his beloved.

They stared at each other, two pairs of eyes as bright as the sun or liquid gold, absorbing both completely in their claws.

-Please - Y/n whispered on the verge of tears.

-I'll give you everything you want - he assured, unexpectedly accelerating his movements that they became almost brutal, bestial.

The climax hit both of them quickly and hard. The effect was so strong that it almost took their breaths away, and stars appeared before their eyes. Everything felt new and familiar at the same time.

And it was no secret that they both loved it. It was their escape, their paradise on earth, their own heaven. But for how long?

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar x reader #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x fem!reader #jake sully smut #pandora #fanfiction #alien smut #na'vi #na'vi x reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar x reader smut

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moronkombat · 5 months

Note

okay so I’ve never done this before 😭

but can I request a nsfw work on Tomas being frustrated over how Bi-Han treats him that he sleeps with Bi-Han’s wife who also loves Tomas 👀 like Tomas is so frustrated and Bi-Han’s wife offers him leverage even if it’s cheating on Bi-Han?

decided to take some creative liberties with this prompt and made it into tomas is frustrated with bi-han and decides he's going to take his frustrations out on bi-han's sweet little wife

tw: afab pronouns and anatomy, dub/noncon, breeding kink/pregnancy mention unprotected sex

Tomas had known her since he first came to join the Lin Kuei family. She had been the daughter of a close family friend and someone Tomas had become rather fond of her. She sweet, kind and always very understanding. The very opposite of Bi-Han and yet his eldest brother had been the one to capture her heart. When he saw the two of them embrace each other, Tomas felt as if nothing in the world would ever go right for him.

No matter how hard he tried to win her favor, she always had eyes for the cryomancer. Yes, she and Tomas spent time together but it was never anything more than a cordial and friendly chat between friends. Tomas wanted so much more than just friends. Yet she remained with Bi-Han and when he heard word of their proposal Tomas truly felt lost.

For years he has kept these envies to himself, watching from just the corner of his eye when Bi-Han and her were together. She smiles so sweetly with him. Never did she smile like that around Tomas. Though, this beautiful flower always kind, no matter the occasion. He treats Tomas with grace, respect and care. Did her husband share this trait? No.

Whatever Tomas seemed to do, Bi-Han was critical and disapproving. They do not share blood. They are not brothers. Tomas could never change that, he never could hope to. This day no exception as Tomas had been reminded of his commoner status yet again by his eldest brother. His only option to stand there and listen to this verbal lashing, waiting to be dismissed.

Upon his dismissal, Tomas had sought refuge in one of the dojos. There he stands, hand covering his brow, as he ponders all the failures Bi-Han saw him as. It isn't fair. It isn't right. Why is Tomas always met with such contempt when all he tries to do is receive acceptance?

"Tomas?" her voice an instant calming flow, "Thought I would find you here?"

A hand slides down the length of his face and he turns to look at the one who has always accepted him. Eyes softened, lips curved and offering a smile...she always so divine, so perfect. Tomas finds himself sighing and relaxing into the wall. Footsteps approach and her warmth radiates close. There's something tingling up his spine while she stands with him. So close, so close.

"'My husband giving you trouble, again?" Comes her inquisition and Tomas need not even answer her. Her posture and overall demeanor softens. "I'm sorry. It isn't right for him to become so upset with you."

His heart hangs heavy. It always her apologizing for Bi-Han behavior for his mistreatment of others. It is enraging to know that someone so sweet takes on the burdens of a brother most vile. Tomas can hear her voice, the words she says always so lovely, but he is unable to listen. No, his grey eyes merely watch her plush and tender lips move. Are they soft? They must be...they be so soft and comforting. Eyes continue their path...such a slender neck, smooth and warm skin.

Tomas can't stop himself not when eyes fall upon her chest. How unfair seeing the fabric stretch like that. Large breasts hide beneath it, just begging to be revealed. Fingers twitch as he imagines what it's like to hold them against his palms. What else could his hands do? That waist of hers...so tight and begging to be grabbed and pulled. Push and pull against his body again and again.

Shit...why does she have to do this? How can she be so cruel to taunt him with her body that so forbidden to him. It's not fair. It's not right. Nothing ever has gone right for Tomas, why does she have to rub it in by standing there looking so...tempting?!

Desire, so much of it, how is expected not to drown? Hands that flinch and wince now spring to life. They grab, they shove and he hears her shriek. Bodies pressed together, she trapped and ensnared and Tomas holds the key to escape. Large hands encompass her wrists, holding her against a wall. She struggles, squirming and writhing against him. Feels good...it feels so good!

Tomas pressed himself as close as he can to her, hot breath dancing against a slim neck. A stiff erection begins to burn and Tomas is so desperate for relief while she continues to move against his body. A tongue so damp licks at her skin and shaking hands begin to roam uncharted territory. The fabric of her dress so pretty against begging palms. He hears her pleading with him, asking him what he's doing and why but Tomas can only hear how delicious her voice sounds like this.

Hips begin to buck, rutting up against her to establish some sort of friction for his growing arousal. None of Tomas can remain still when he has her captured like this. He gropes and caresses all the curves he can. Pulling at her dress to better reveal secrets he could have never dreamed of revealing. Yet here she is, supple breasts exposed that Tomas quickly latches himself onto.

There's a new noise at his ears then, something very dangerous and it shoots right down to Tomas' desperate cock. She's whining, it feels good? He's making her feel good. Invigorated, Tomas begins to luck and suck at perked and blushing nipples. So easily his lips encompass such a beautiful little bud and how perfectly his tongue swirls around it. There's more of those pretty sounds from her and Tomas uses an unoccupied hand to bring her hand to his hard erection.

He can feel her wrist attempting to pull away. How dare she. Doesn't she know he's like this because of her? Because she is always walking around flaunting that lewd body of hers. This is her fault. There is only her to blame for what's happening. Tomas' grip on her wrist steels and he begins manipulating her hand so that she caresses him through his trousers.

"T-Tomas...!" Words are finally coherent again. "Please, you don't mean to do this!"

It is her attempt to reason with him, to still he the very good in him that Bi-Han could never see. Tomas groans and moves his lips from her breast torrid and wild. "Tom-!"

He can't hear her again, lips are pressed onto hers so rough and desperate. Even as she tries to resist, his tongue and hers still collide so gracefully.

"So pretty, you're so pretty." Tomas whines against her in that moment of breath. "I gotta taste you. You're making me go crazy. Fuck, you're always teasing me."

Panicked, afraid, she looks to him. "Tomas, I don't know what you're talking about! Ple-!" She screams, her world spinning as eyes come to witness the wall.

There's a gasp, hands are pulling her hips and soon she feels herself being bent over. She has no choice but to place her palms flat against the wall if she did not want to tumble. Her legs are moved apart and a dress is hiked up around her waist. Over her shoulder she is met with the wild and drunk gaze of her dear friend Tomas.

Bending down, he can feel himself shaking and trembling as he looks at her soaked panties. She's wet, so wet, practically dripping and she knows it too. There is a great shame within her, knowing she's been turned on by someone other than her husband but her body cannot deny pleasure no matter who gives it.

"You're so wet here." Tomas muses, pressing finger against the warmth of her panties. "So sticky...fuck, I gotta taste your pussy."

Her mouth parts to protest but there is only a moan as the flat of his tongue lays against her clothed pussy. Such a betraying moan, she bites her lip to keep herself quiet but Tomas does not stop. His tongue tangos against her nectar stained panties, pushing and sucking. Nails claw at the wall and thighs shake that he teases her like this. Why does it feel so amazing? She loves her husband so much but...this just feels so good!

Teeth slip and her moans are freed into the empty air. Such pretty music she makes for him and Tomas is only fueled to keep going. "You like this, baby? You like me teasing you pussy like this?"

No, this is so filthy. Bi-Han has never talked to her like this. No, Bi-Han always so sweet with his words but Tomas...so cruel and yet why does something within her twist and turn so tightly?

"Ah, you're getting even more wet. You must be really perverted, huh? So fucking hot..." Tomas breathes before continuing. He not even touching her core directly and still he has her moaning like this. "S-Shit, you just can't keep quiet. I'm gonna end up cumming just from listening to you."

That would be her salvation, wouldn't it? If he came now, then nothing could progress further. Please, please just finish! But there is no salvation awaiting her. No, instead her panties are pulled away and cool air greets her. No, no! Tomas could cum from just the sight of her pretty little pussy. Such a lovely color...Tomas quivers, fuck he needs to take her now

Sounds of clothing shifting and Tomas holds the base of his hard and thick length. The tip slides against her pussy, coating it so sticky in beautiful glistening wetness. She gasps and begins to beg. "No...! No Tomas don't! Please!"

Her pleas fall so silent, Tomas will not be denied that which should have always been his. His hands grab onto her hips, pushing into soft skin. "I'm gonna fuck you now, okay? I just gotta fuck you. I've always wanted to so...you'll let me, right?"

Words are spoken yet Tomas seems not to be interested in a response. Eyes captured by madness, there is no shred of hesitation left within him now.

"No, wait! Stop!" She tries again but she should have learned that there is no happy ending for her. Tomas' length rubs against her wet pussy, coating it in all her slick and warmth. She can hear him panting just from this, she knows he is excited to fuck her. He's so eager, desperately rutting himself against her in an attempt to enter her.

"S-Shit, it won't go in..." Tomas breaths as he rushes to penetrate that which does not belong to him. He moves a hand to stabilize himself and finally the bulbous and engorged tip spreads her apart. Eyes fly open and a back in bending. No...No! Walls are pried apart as his cock makes its shaky way inside her. Further and further those spongy walls are pulled apart but oh do they cling and wrap around him.

Tomas is moaning, watching as her greedy pussy swallows up his cock from tip to base. Hips slam together and now he is fully nestled inside. The warmth, the comfort, there no better bliss than to be engulfed by her. Tomas lightly swivels his hips, this length moving so snugly against her insides and she cries out.

"You're so tight...sucking me in like that. Such a great pussy. Damn, babe, I can hardly move you're clinging to me so much." She hates that he is right. She hates how her pussy so quickly wrapped around his cock as if he were her dear husband. Tomas can only move his hips shallowly, allowing her pussy to adjust to the foreign intrusion. Her mind knows this is wrong, that she only wants to ever do something like this with her husband but the body wants what it craves. Right now it craves the maelstrom that is Tomas.

Brows pinch together and fingers bruise tender flesh, Tomas can't tolerate this pace any longer. He needs more, he will have more. Skin against skin, the slap of it such a beautiful symphony that fills the room as he begins to fuck her tight little cunt raw. Each thrust brings forth a moan from both of them.

"So good, you feel so good." words slip between breaths as Tomas continues to ravage her. "Your cunt is so fucking tight. It feels like you're suffocating me, babe. Shit, your pussy is the best."

The words have her sick yet his body has her reaching divinity more and more. His cock stretches and fills up all of her, she can feel him so deep inside.

"T-Tomas...please..-" words cannot continue, the moans and mewls leave no room for them.

The sound of his names coming from her lewd and plush lips has Tomas throbbing and straining inside her. "Y-Yeah! Say my name again! Fuck, say my name again, babe!"

She resists, biting her bottom lip and sucking it in. No, she can't. She mustn't moan the name of another man. Her silence is infuriating and Tomas grits his teeth. A hand raises only to come down upon the flesh of her round and shapely ass. The skin there like rippling waves and her entire body tensing and Tomas feels every little bit of it.

"S-Shit! You're squeezing my dick so much! Fuck, you like that? Fucking dirty bitch...!" So horrible, so wonderful. No, this can't be.

Once again his hand punishes her and she can only whimper and shake under him. Her body responds the same, with lust and treachery. She thinks of Bi-Han and her eyes close. Apologies ring in her head over and over again. They compete with the corruption that is pleasure and all of its temptations.

"Such a good slut. God, I love you so much. You feel amazing!" Words from him begin to strain as colors so unspeakable begin to rise into view. "I just can't stop fucking you."

Her body never wants him to stop. The sex he gives so brutal, so feral. They like animals mating with the way they move and moan. Her head is dizzy, her pussy is wet and dripping, it's so good, it's too good.

"T-Tomas..!" A bond is broken, a name is said. "Tomas! I-I can't...!"

She can and she will. Tomas slams himself into her abused cunt again and again, the sounds of their sex so mind numbing. "That's it! Say my name again! S-Shit...I'm not gonna last...!"

Horror, terror, the realization. He's going to cum, he's going to finish soon. No! No! Please not that! "N-Not...inside! You can't!" Those the only words she can manage but they are not the words Tomas wanted.

"Inside? Yeah, Imma cum inside you. I'm gonna cum inside your slutty pussy." Tomas steels himself, he will have no other option. It is his right to do so. She always belonged to him. "Fuck that...idiot Bi-Han. Stealing you from me like that. You should be my wife."

The heat, it is rising it is coiling. Her walls tremble to match his throbbing length. Together they dance, together they reach the sky. Such beautiful rhythms around his cock she provides as her orgasm overtakes her into the pits of calamity.

Her undoing only fuels Tomas and the twisted thoughts within his head. "Yeah, yeah that's right. Cum on my cock! You fucking love it. You love when I fuck you!"

It should have been him. It should have always been him. What would Bi-Han think now? What would he think if he saw his wife having sex with his inferior brother? The thought drives Tomas to manic raptor.

"I'm gonna cum in you. Gonna fill you up real nice. Hey..." wicked thoughts become villainous. "How about I cum inside of you and get you knocked up? Yeah, I think I'll fuck a baby into you. That'll show Bi-Han."

Bi-Han, her husband, the love of her life. The man who she promised herself to but now here she is being fucked by another and cumming around his cock. Her thoughts are ripped away as Tomas sharply pulls on her arm, forcing her back to curve and bend.

A craned neck, moans cannot hide themself and go birthed into the warm air. Tomas groans, Tomas grunts, driven now by a sinister purpose. He'll fuck her so full. He'll paint her insides until there will be no choice but to remember him forever. He loves her. He loves her so much.

Strings of white pearls erupt within a warm and welcoming home. So painted, so tarnished. His cock so buried inside her, he's cumming so much. It's never ending, there's too much! Tomas pulls from her cum stained pussy, spurts still releasing and sticking to her now reddening ass. So sticky and sweet he has made her, watching over her body as she falls to the floor, spent and used.

Tomas pants, enjoying the masterpiece he has created. She lays so cold, eyes filled with tears and pussy so filled with seed that didn't belong to her husband. She cannot move, she cannot bring herself to do much of anything.

Behind her there is movement and the youngest Lin Kuei brother is fixing his clothes, getting himself ready to depart.

"That was really great!" so casual, as if nothing had happened. "We'll have to have fun like that again. Fuck you were just as good as I always thought."

Now he would never have to only imagine it. Now he has the experience to relish in and return to. Turning to leave, Tomas pauses before opening the door.

"Oh and you won't tell Bi-Han, right? Hah, what am I saying, of course you won't tell him!"

Why is he right?

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat fanworks #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #tomas vrbada #tomas x reader #tomas x you #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon

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inou-ie · 7 months

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Hello, how you doing? Can I please have yan Jinglie x Blade's younger sister. Basically, his sister is youngerin a year. She is also part of Stellaron Hunter, but she is more has more softer side. Jingliu was always in love with them, untill they left woth Blade. However, one day Jingliees Blade's sister in Xianzhou, and decide why not to kidnap them and make them hers? (Hopefully I didn't confused you).

Author's notes: I'm sorry, this took so long... I hope I got it right though! Since you asked about yandere before, I thought you'd like it this way.

Warnings: slight NSFW, yandere, kidnapping, stalking.

MDNI

Joining the Stellaron Hunters to care for your older brother is akin to having a second job. You must be there for him, recognizing the possibility of his losing control, rather than relying solely on Kafka's abilities.

You and Blade are consistently assigned to missions together, whereas your brother often operates independently. This pattern persisted during your mission in Xianzhou Luofu, as he ventured solo, leaving you to operate alone.

Frustrated by the constant effort to keep pace with him, you resolved to complete the mission solo. As you surveyed the surroundings, a flood of memories engulfed you, recalling the diverse individuals with whom you had interacted in this very place.

However, an unsettling feeling gnawed at you. It seemed as though someone had been watching you from the moment you entered this place. You glanced around, but there was no one in sight.

Putting the mission aside and continuing to walk in an attempt to lose the mysterious pursuer turned out to be a grave error. You eventually found yourself at a dead end, and a chilling sensation crept down your spine as the surroundings grew colder with each passing moment.

"...you.. have returned..." a cold voice from behind caused you to pivot around, revealing a woman wearing a black blindfold, advancing toward you with deliberate, unhurried steps.

"Who are you?" You swiftly raised your guard, yet a bone-chilling coldness filled the air as she inched closer. "Have you... forgotten about me?" The woman paused, then delicately removed her blindfold, revealing her piercing red eyes fixed intently upon you.

In that moment, a rush of memories flooded your mind. You took a closer look at her face and breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that this woman was, in fact, an old companion.

"Jingliu?" You muttered, studying the woman once more. A faint smile graced her lips as she approached you. "That's right... I'm glad you came back." she said, her voice carrying a chilly tone. She stood before you, her hand reaching for your cheek, gently rubbing her thumb against it.

Her touch, though both gentle and firm, was unmistakably familiar. A chuckle escaped your lips; how could you ever forget the person you used to spend time with?

"...n't leave..." You heard Jingliu mumble something, and your curiosity piqued as you leaned in closer. "Did you say something?" You asked with curiosity. After several moments of silence, you felt her grip on your chin as she locked eyes with you with an intense gaze.

"You can't leave me again..." Jingliu uttered before she moved her hand toward your face. Her cold hand covered your eyes. Just as you attempted to pull away, an intense and numbing coldness washed over your mind. You groaned in pain while struggling to break free, but she held you tightly with her arm around your waist, her hand still seemingly freezing your thoughts.

"What are you doing?!" You continued to struggle against her, but it proved futile; her strength remained as formidable as ever. Jingliu didn't utter a word, and you felt your mind growing blank as you slowly lost consciousness.

You jolted awake with a start, sensing a weight on your body, only to find Jingliu atop you. She smiled to herself while gently caressing your face. "You'll be with me forever..." She mumbled softly before planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

With your eyes half-opened, you strained to scan the dim surroundings, but darkness obscured everything, and your mind remained clouded. "What did you do to me..." you whispered weakly, attempting to shift, but Jingliu clung to you tightly, using her weight to keep you pinned down.

"This is where you belong... by my side," Jingliu whispered, her finger tracing a chilling path along your neck. "I won't ever let you go, not again." she added, her smile taking on a wicked edge as her red eyes gleamed in the darkness.

You groaned as Jingliu shifted her position, now seated on top of you. She gazed down at you while keeping you pinned down. "I love you..." she mumbled before cupping your cheeks in her hands. "I love you so much." she repeated, seemingly waiting for your reaction.

"What are you even saying..." you muttered under your breath, noticing Jingliu's expression darkening. She grabbed your neck with both hands and leaned down. "That's not right, you were supposed to say you love me back." she whispered dangerously against your throat.

Jingliu tilted your head upward slightly, her mouth drawing even closer to your throat. Her hands felt cold against your skin. "Let me go– ah..." a sudden moan escaped your lips when she licked your throat up to your chin.

Her breath hitched when she heard you moan, and it only served to fuel her desire even more. Jingliu's tongue continued to explore your neck, drawing shapes on your skin that sent shivers down your spine. She nipped at the soft flesh just below your earlobe before sucking gently, her hot breath causing goosebumps along your collarbone.

You could feel every inch of her nails digging into the sensitive skin behind your ears, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Despite yourself, a low growl rumbled from deep within your throat when she finally bit down hard on that vulnerable spot between neck and shoulder—the bite not quite painful but undeniably intense.

"I love you." she murmured once more into your ear, her voice hoarse with desire. Her tongue traced the outline of your earlobe before dipping inside, sending shivers down your spine.

You can't help but moan beneath her, squirming around while closing your eyes tightly. "It's been years... you must quell the longing you've stirred within me." Jingliu whispered with an air of longing and desire. Your eyes widen at the sight of Jingliu slowly removing her clothes before leaning down to embrace you.

"I'll never let you escape, my love.. Nothing can separate us ever again." Jingliu mumbled before your combined moans, cries, and whimpers echoed through the night air like a primal symphony...

#inou inbox #jingliu hsr #jingliu x reader #jingliu x you #inou works

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

Hush Little Baby

Pairing: Jake seresin x female!reader

TW:none that I can think of, maybe slight angst?

Summary: Jake comes home from the Uranium mission to a big surprise. (Based on this request)

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: This is short and not my best work, but I hope I did it justice. Also tell me this baby doesn’t have glens eyes I dare you.

Every second of the trip back from the mission feels like a single leg hair being plucked as Jake anxiously waits to get back to you. He's been gone for a month now with no contact. His leg bounces impatiently as the plane lands and he nearly tramples over people as he tries to get off the plane.

He rushes down the stairs and onto the tarmac, scanning the large crowd of people for your face. You're 39 weeks pregnant now, ready to pop at any given second. He had cried for three days before leaving you, devastated he would be missing the last month of your pregnancy.

He was so hands-on from the second he found out about his daughter, over the moon at becoming a father. He held your hair back when you got sick, rubbed your back and feet every night, and went out late at night to get you your most recent craving without a single complaint.

His face falls when he doesn't see you, but figures you must be somewhere near the back. His heart drops with every moment that drags by as the tarmac clears out. He stays until Bradley is the only one left, and realizes that you're not here.

"Where's Y/N?" Bradley asks and Jake glances over at him. "I don't know, she was supposed to pick me up." He answers, sadness and worry lacing his voice.

Bradley frowns and claps Jake on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll take you home." He offers and Jake reluctantly agrees. The ride to your shared home is silent and Jake practically falls out of the bronco when it comes to a stop.

He shoots Bradley a quick thank you and races toward the front door. It's unlocked and he bursts inside, scared that something is wrong. In almost ten years of being together, you have never once missed a homecoming.

The house is silent and he frowns when he hears a soft humming floating from the back of the house. He kicks his boots off and puts them away before following the sound. It's coming from the nursery and he slowly peaks his head inside.

The sight before him makes his heart stop and tears instantly prick his eyes. You're rocking a tiny baby wrapped in a pink blanket. He sends up a silent prayer that somehow that's someone else's child and knocks softly.

You look up at him and a soft smile graces your features. He's never seen you look so tender and he takes a deep breath. He watches as you stand slowly and make your way over to him.

The second he sees the emerald green eyes peering back at him he knows. A single tear falls down his cheek and you adjust carefully to reach up and wipe it away.

"Jake," You whisper, and his breathing halts. "Meet your daughter, Aurora. Rory for short."

He shakes his head and tries to process what's happening. Not only did he not get to see his first child be born, but he didn't even know.

"When?" He breathes and you give him a sympathetic smile. "A week ago today."

His eyes are glued to the little girl, completely entranced. She has your nose and mouth, but his green eyes and blonde hair. She's a perfect picture of the two of you.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He cries and you shake your head.

"It's okay, Jake. You came home to us, that's all that matters." You comfort him and he gives a small nod.

"Do you want to hold her?" You ask and he gulps. "More than anything."

You gently hand her to him and he takes her in his arms, cradling her like she'll shatter if he breathes wrong.

"Hi, little one. I'm your daddy." He sniffles quietly and your heart melts. He glances back up at you with a watery smile and you give him an encouraging nod.

He bounces from side to side and traces a finger down her face, feeling her soft skin. "She's perfect." He declares and you smile down at your daughter.

"She really is." You agree and Jake can't take his eyes off of her.

She's staring right back at him, fascination swimming in her eyes, and Jake's entire world comes to a screeching halt. She coos and reaches a tiny hand up to grab his pinky, and his knees almost give out.

"How are you? Are you doing okay?" He asks and you nod your head.

"I'm fine. The labor and delivery were actually pretty short and I was only in the hospital for a day. All of the wives have been popping in and out to check on me, it's been nice." You explain but it doesn't do much to soothe the ache in his heart.

"I hate that you went through that alone." He whimpers and you shake your head.

"I wasn't alone. Penny was there for the entire thing. That woman is a saint." You tell him and that does help the sting of the situation a bit.

"How big is she?" He asks and you grin.

"She was 8 pounds 9 ounces and 21 inches long. Born at 3:05 am, perfectly healthy." You inform him and he nods.

He notices Rory start to doze off and you nod toward the bassinet. He sets her down carefully, and the two of you sneak out of the room.

The second you're in the hallway, Jake has you wrapped in his arms.

"I love you so much. You did so good." He praises and you nuzzle into his neck.

"I love you too. I'm sorry that you didn't know. We tried everything to notify your superiors but with Ice gone, it didn't do much good." You tell him sadly and he kisses the side of your head.

"You don't need to apologize, sweets. The fact that you even tried when you were in pain like that means the world." He murmurs and you kiss the side of his neck.

"Can you believe we're parents?" You ask quietly and he chuckles. "Well I just found out five minutes ago, so no not really." He teases and you slap his shoulder. You know he's using humor as a defense mechanism.

He sniffles again and squeezes you tighter. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. Anything you want." He offers and you look up at him.

"I already have everything I want right here." You whisper and he leans down to kiss you.

"I love you." He murmurs and you peck him again. "I love you too."

@drakelover78 @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6

#jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #hangman top gun #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic

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ctitan98official · 2 months

Text

Anonymous: Hi! Could you please write headcannons how re8 ladies would react to reader bringing home a stray kitty?

I love it! This one’s long, sorry. Let’s get into it!

Alcina:

As you walked through the grand entrance of castle Dimitrescu, your heart raced with excitement. You couldn’t wait to show Alcina the surprise you had in store. Carefully cradled in your arms was a small, fluffy bundle. You had found a stray kitty on the outskirts of the village. You knew Alcina had a fondness for elegant and regal creatures, so you hoped this feline friend would win her over.

With each step, the anticipation grew, and the distant echo of your footsteps seemed to harmonize with the sound of the kitten’s gentle purring. Finally, you reached the door to Alcina’s study. You paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, before gently pushing open the door.

Alcina sat at her desk, engrossed in paperwork, her piercing gaze fixated on the pages. As the door creaked open, her attention snapped toward you. Her eyes widened with surprise as she took in the sight before her. You had a small, adorable creature nestled in your arms.

“Darling, what do you have?” Alcina asked, her voice a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

You approached her, a warm smile on your face, and carefully presented the tiny cat. “I found this stray kitty near the village and I thought she would be a wonderful addition to our home. Look at those golden eyes! Just like yours, babe.”

Alcina’s expression softened and a flicker of warmth appeared in her eyes. She extended a hand, hesitantly reaching out to touch the fur of the little kitten. The cat purred louder, arching its back into Alcina’s touch.

“Well, aren’t you precious,” Alcina murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She continued to stroke the kitty’s soft fur, her touch surprisingly gentle.

You watched in awe as Alcina’s demeanor transformed, her usual serious manor melting away like snow under the warmth of the sun. She seemed captivated by the innocent playfulness of the stray kitty, and a newfound tenderness radiated from her.

“I suppose we can allow this little one to grace our halls,” Alcina finally conceded, her voice laced with affection. “But remember, draga, it’s a lot of responsibility to look after a pet. You need to make sure she has everything she needs.”

You nodded, grateful for Alcina’s acceptance. With a sense of relief, you placed the kitten in Alcina’s lap, watching as she nuzzled against her. It was a sight that filled your heart with immeasurable joy.

From that day forward, the stray kitty became an unexpected addition to the Dimitrescu family. You and Alcina dote on the kitten, who you both decided to name Skye. Alcina showers her with affection, and you marvel at how effortlessly she embraces this newfound source of companionship. Skye is now Alcina’s shadow. She watches Alcina so intently as she works, that you have joked that she wants to take over the family business.

Bela didn’t find this funny.

Donna:

You nervously fidgeted with your keys as you stood outside the front door, a cardboard box cradled in your arms. Inside the box was a tiny, mewling ball of fur—A stray kitten you had found earlier that day. You couldn’t resist her pleading eyes and tiny meows, so you decided to bring her home. But now, the real challenge awaited you. Introducing your new furry friend to Donna.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. The sound of your footsteps echoed in the silence as you made your way towards the living room, where you hoped to find Donna.

As you entered the room, you spotted her sitting on a plush armchair, delicately cradling Angie. Her attention shifted towards you. “Hello, cara mia,” She greeted gently.

With trembling hands, you approached her, nervous that she might be upset with you bringing the kitten. “Um, Donna… I have something to show you,” You stammered, softly setting the box on the coffee table. You watched as her fingers reached out, curious to explore the source of your anxiety.

Her touch was feather-light as she traced the edges of the box, and then, without a word, she delicately opened it. Her eyes widened at the sight of the tiny kitten nestled within, her soft fur glistening in the dim light.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the kitten’s intermittent mewling. You anxiously awaited her reaction, unsure of how she would respond. Would she be mad? Would she ask you to get rid of the kitten?

But to your surprise, Donna’s eyes softened as she looked at the tiny creature. Slowly, a small smile curved on her lips. She carefully lifted the kitten out of the box, cradling her in her arms as she inspected her with a gentle curiosity.

“It seems we have a new addition to our family, don’t we, tesoro?” Donna’s voice, barely above a whisper, sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t believe your ears. She didn’t seem angry or upset; instead, she appeared genuinely happy and content.

From that moment on, Donna took on a motherly role, lavishing the kitten with delicate care and attention. She also picked her name: Opal. She spent hours with Opal, playing with her, feeding her, and snuggling her. Donna’s usually reserved nature melted away in the presence of the innocent little creature. Opal, in turn, sensed her tenderness and nestled comfortably in her arms, purring softly.

You watched in awe as a bond formed between your enigmatic partner and the tiny kitten. It was as if the presence of Opal had brought out the most nurturing side of Donna.

In the days and weeks that followed, Donna and Opal became inseparable. They spent most evenings together. Donna crocheted with the kitten curled up in her lap. The sound of Opal’s contented purrs filled the air, creating a serene atmosphere that you cherished.

Through Opal, you had not only brought joy to Donna’s heart but also deepened your connection with her.

Miranda:

You approach Miranda’s study, a small bundle of fur nestled in your arms. Your heart races with both excitement and a hint of nervousness. You can’t help but wonder how Miranda will react to your newfound furry companion.

The soft mewling of the kitty in your arms seems to echo the sound of your pounding heartbeat. You stop outside the door, gathering your courage before giving a hesitant knock.

“Come in,” Miranda’s authoritative voice calls from within. You push open the door, your gaze immediately meeting hers.

“Babe,” You begin, your voice laced with both excitement and apprehension. “I have something I’d like to show you.”

Her brow arches slightly, curiosity dancing in her eyes. “Oh? And what might that be, draga mea?”

You step forward, revealing the small bundle of fur cradled in your arms. A tiny, snow white kitten happily sticks his head out at her.

"I found this little one on my way back. He’s a stray, and… I couldn’t leave him behind. I thought we could give him a home here, together,” You say.

There’s a flicker of surprise that crosses Miranda’s face before she regains her composure, her gaze softening as it falls upon the kitten. "How unexpected,” She murmurs, her voice holding a hint of something you can’t quite place.

She extends a slender hand, her touch gentle as she strokes the kitten’s head. The little one purrs contentedly, nuzzling into her palm. For a moment, the stern demeanor that often surrounds Miranda melts away, replaced by a genuine tenderness.

“I suppose this little one has found his way into our lives,” She says softly, a small smile on her lips. “Very well, my dear. We’ll keep him,” She says and gives you a kiss.

Relief washes over you, and a wide smile spreads across your face. You never could have predicted such a warm response from Miranda. With newfound joy, you watch as she carefully cradles the kitten in her arms, her touch as delicate as a whisper.

"Thank you, babe,” You say, gratitude filling your voice. “I love you so much.” You tell her.

She meets your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unexpected emotion. "We will take care of him together, my dear,” she says, her voice softer than ever. “And… I think I have an idea of what to call him already,” She says with a blush.

Your eyes brighten. “Yeah? What are you thinking?” You ask eagerly.

“Well… What about… Winter? To match his gorgeous coat,” She suggests.

“I love it!” You exclaim, looking at the little kitten. “Hi, Winter. We’ll take good care of you,” You say and kiss his tiny head.

With those words, you realize that bringing home the stray kitty was more than just an act of compassion. It was a bridge between your world and Miranda’s. A tangible connection that binds your hearts together. As you stand there, you can’t help but feel a renewed sense of love and unity, knowing that even the most unexpected things can bring beauty and warmth into your lives.

Bela:

As you walked through the front door, gently cradling the tiny stray kitten in your arms, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. Bela was elegant, refined, and sometimes even a bit intimidating. But deep down, you knew that she would embrace this unexpected addition to your home… Even if she might be a bit pissed at first.

As you made your way to the grand foyer, you carefully approached Bela, who was perched regally on a velvet-upholstered chair, engrossed in a book.

With a slight tremor in your voice, you spoke up, "Bela, I have something to show you.” Your heart raced as you presented the adorable kitten. Her fur was a mix of black and gray, and her bright eyes stared up at Bela, radiating innocence and vulnerability.

Bela slowly lifted her gaze from her book, her eyes narrowing as they fixated on the tiny creature in your arms. For a moment, silence enveloped the room, intensifying the weight of her scrutiny. You anxiously awaited her reaction, wondering how she would perceive this gesture of compassion.

Suddenly, a flicker of amusement danced in Bela’s eyes. She delicately closed her book and placed it aside, her attention now fully on the kitten. You watched as her gloved hand extended, fingers gracefully reaching out towards the little feline. The kitten, seemingly aware of the presence before her, gingerly sniffed Bela.

A smile graced Bela’s lips, softening her lovely features. She began to stroke the kitten’s fur, her touch surprisingly gentle and tender. You felt relief wash over you.

As the kitten purred in contentment, Bela’s eyes sparkled with a newfound fondness. Her voice, usually laced with authority, now resonated with a hint of wonder as she spoke, “How cute! Let’s keep her!”

Your heart soared at her words. Bela’s acceptance of the kitten symbolized a deeper connection between the two of you. Having a pet together takes a lot of commitment.

As the days passed, you would watch Bela and the kitten, who you both decided to name Smokey, forge an unlikely bond. Smokey would grow bolder, exploring the nooks and crannies of the castle under Bela’s watchful eye. And with each passing day, you witness Bela’s once-unyielding aura soften even more.

Cassandra:

The stray kitten you had found earlier that day had captured your heart, and you couldn’t bear to leave him out in the cold. You hoped Cass would understand your impulse to bring him home.

As you stepped into castle Dimitrescu, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety. Cass’s standards were high, and you worried that she might disapprove of your spontaneous decision. Nevertheless, you squared your shoulders and made your way toward her study, where she often spent her evenings engrossed in ancient tomes.

As you entered the room, Cass glanced up from her reading, her piercing gaze meeting yours. She arched an elegant eyebrow, her voice smooth as silk. “And what do you have there?” She inquired, her tone a mixture of curiosity and mild amusement.

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to explain. “Cass, I found this poor little kitten on my way home. He was all alone and seemed hungry and cold. I couldn’t bear to leave him behind… So I brought him here.”

Cass’s expression softened, her eyes glancing down at the small feline cradled in your arms. She extended a gloved hand, motioning for you to bring the kitten closer. “Let me see,” She said, her voice now filled with a hint of tenderness.

You carefully handed over the tiny bundle, watching as Cass cradled the kitten in her hands. She gazed at him, her fingers delicately stroking his fur. The kitten responded with a soft purr, nuzzling against Cass’s palm.

A smile curved the corners of Cass’s lips, her eyes alight with a newfound warmth. “Well,” She said, her voice a mere whisper, “it seems we have a new cat.”

Relief washed over you, and you couldn’t help but smile in return. Cass’s reaction had exceeded your expectations, her compassion shining through her tough demeanor. You knew then that the stray kitten had found a home filled with love and protection within the walls of castle Dimitrescu.

Cass and the kitten, who she insisted on naming Dagger, formed an unexpected bond. She would often be seen in the evenings, seated in her study, with the little feline curled up beside her. And as you watched them together, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that you had followed your instincts and brought the stray kitty home. He has not only found solace, but also brought an extra touch of warmth to the heart of the formidable Cassandra Dimitrescu.

Daniela:

As you made your way back to castle Dimitrescu, a soft meowing caught your attention. Following the sound, you discovered a small, bedraggled kitten huddled near the front entrance. His fur was matted and dirty, but his vibrant green eyes looked up at you with a mixture of fear and longing.

Your heart melted instantly as you thought about the possibility of giving this stray kitty a loving home. Carefully scooping him up into your arms, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement. Dani adored animals and her bubbly demeanor would surely make her fall head over heels for this little bundle of fur.

Eagerly, you made your way through the opulent corridors, kitty in tow, until you reached Dani’s chambers. Pushing the door open gently, you found her sitting at her vanity, brushing her fiery hair.

“Dani,” You called out, your voice filled with excitement. “Look what I found!”

She turned around, her eyes widening in surprise as she beheld the tiny feline in your arms. A delighted gasp escaped her lips, and she practically bounced off her chair, the hairbrush forgotten on the vanity.

“Oh, baby!” Dani exclaimed, her voice filled with pure joy. “You found a precious kitty! How sweet!”

Her steps carried her closer to you, and as you moved the kitten towards her, she extended her hands, her delicate fingers brushing against his fur. A radiant smile adorned her face as she cradled the kitten, holding him close to her chest.

“You poor thing,” Dani cooed softly, her tone filled with tenderness. “Don’t worry, my sweet little one. We’ll take good care of you.”

She peppered the kitten with gentle kisses, her enthusiasm and affection evident in every touch. Her eyes sparkled with adoration as she looked up at you, gratitude overflowing in her gaze.

“Thank you, baby,” She whispered, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. “This is the most wonderful gift you could have given me.”

From that moment forward, Dani doted on the stray kitty, she named him Pumpkin, as if he were her own child. She lavished him with love, providing the coziest beds, the most delectable treats, and endless hours of playtime. The castle halls echoed with the joyful sounds of Dani’s laughter and the pitter-patter of tiny paws.

As you witnessed Dani’s boundless affection for the furry addition to your lives, your heart swelled with love and contentment, knowing you had brought immeasurable happiness to both her and the newest member of your household.

Masterlist

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b4b3tte · 8 months

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hi!! i Found out you have an accent like me!! So Ryan!ken x fem!reader who has an accent?! Can be any thx stink ‼️

꒰ ⊹ ˚ Summary — Ken with female reader that has a French accent <3

Pairing — Gosling!Ken X Fem!Reader

Contains of — Just you guys bonding and a kiss at the end

Note — I loved writing this and I hope you enjoyed it!! Thanks for reading <33

In the vibrant world of Barbie, Ken found himself captivated by the allure of a fascinating young woman named Y/n. She was a type of beauty you rarely found. with sparkling eyes and a charming French accent that enchanted everyone she met. Ken, always open to new experiences, couldn't resist the chance to get to know her better .

One sunny afternoon, Ken mustered up the courage to ask You on a date. He planned a romantic outing at a quaint French café nestled on a cobblestoned street in Your town. As they sat at a cozy table, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of freshly baked croissants, Ken couldn't help but admire your graceful demeanor and the way your accent added an extra layer of charm to your guys conversation.

"you know y/n your accent is very cool, I really haven’t heard anything like it before " Ken remarked, a genuine smile playing on his lips.

You blush at the comment not sure if it was showing but you certainly felt a rise of heat going through your face" thank you Ken, your very sweet "

As you guys enjoyed the café au lait and shared a plate of delicate macarons, You and Ken delved into y’all’s passions and dreams. You spoke passionately about your love for (your passion), while Ken shared his adoration for the beach obviously. your guys shared interests sparked a deeper connection between you two, transcending language barriers.

Days turned into weeks, and your love blossomed like the vibrant gardens of Versailles. Ken found himself falling more and more in love with you and your French accent, which had become an integral part of your identity. He adored the way your words danced with elegance and painted pictures in his mind.

Sometimes he struggled to understand what words you were saying but matter of fact he enjoyed it, he loved hearing you repeat words over and over again that just meant he got to enjoy your beautiful accent, it was something he can listen to all day

One evening, as you guys wandered through a moonlit park, you looked up at Ken with a certain look in your eyes ( YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING 😏) . "Ken I’ve been thinking a lot…about us and you’ve made me really happy the past months and I would like for us to be something more..like boyfriend and gir- “

Ken smiled and he absolutely knew what you were gonna say, and he wasn’t gonna waste this moment of kissing you, he adores hearing you speak with such elegance but he had to kiss you before anything, after so long of looking and feeling the desire to kiss those lips he finally did it

In that tender moment, Ken took your hand and leaned in for a kiss. Your guys lips met, and for a brief second, time stood still. Kens love, entwined with the beauty of your accent, created a symphony of emotions that filled their hearts with joy.

As your guys relationship continued to flourish, You and ken embraced the richness of your guys cultural background, one plastic and one French

as you two explored the art galleries of Paris, picnicked by the Seine, and even attempted to cook traditional French cuisine together, with your accent guiding him through the recipes, it just created a more deeper and gorgeous bond

Your love story, woven with the threads of a French accent, became a testament to the beauty of diversity and the power of connection. you and ken reveled in y’all’s shared adventures, ken voice blending harmoniously with yours, as you and ken embraced each day with love, laughter, and the magic of your unique bond.

THANKS FOR READING!!!! I hoped you liked it, it is 3:52 am and I’m really tired I’m sorry if the grammar is wrong and If this is shitty, deeply sorry hopefully this was good quality!! And give me more requests!! Don’t be shy to ask

#x reader #fanfic #female reader #headcanons #nameisbb3tte #b4b3ttee #barbie #ken barbie #ken x y/n #ken x barbie #ken x reader #ken x fem reader #ken ryan gosling #ryan gosling ken x reader #ryan gosling #ryan gosling ken #the barbie movie #barbie x ken #barbie x reader

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pherelesytsia · 1 year

Text

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Mr Loverman Thomas receives a call and imagines the worst.

Forgotten DinnerSunday dinner was always important to Y/N, but the night ends differently after Thomas arrives over five hours too late.(+18) Whisper of a loving HeartThomas Shelby was always drawn to Y/N, but never found the courage to invite her to dinner but when a man dances with her he can no longer stay in the background.

Safe and SoundThomas Shelby never found time to spend a day with his wife and daughter, but one day he stays home.

Bloodbath At his daughter’s 18th birthday Thomas is not enjoying the attention his daughter is receiving from the male guests but his wife can calm him down before the feast can end in a bloodbath. Burn little witchThomas Shelby, a knight on a hunt for a witch finds his horse under the care of a woman living in the cottage instead of a wicked creature and slowly falls in love with her.

PART ONE

Fool of a Man After a fight, Thomas comes home.(+18)

Feast for Eyes Thomas comes after a long day home.(+18)

Love me tender, Y/N´s parents find out their daughter is dating Thomas Shelby.

Ragging Oceans Thomas finds his girlfriend crying by the cliffs.

Lovelier than a Dream Lazy mornings are not common in the Shelby household, but one spring morning, Thomas cannot find the motivation to get dressed.

How did you know? Y/N always had special abilities, saw the future of her family but one day after John nearly faced death, Thomas demands answers.

Stars were falling, Thomas and Y/N are stargazing and lose themselves in the beauty of the night.

Bleeding Heart Y/N takes care of Thomas after he was shot.

Forbidden Fruit Alfie Solomons finds out his younger sister is dating Thomas Shelby and forbids her to see him ever again, but his words cannot scare her.

Secret Girlfriend, Thomas Shelby, a man of many secrets, can no longer keep one of his most guarded secrets hidden after his girlfriend is in danger.

In the Shadow of Somme Thomas believes his sister is a blessed woman, never faced war nor the destruction of France, but one day they find out what their sister was up to in 1916.

Duties of a father, Thomas has not only neglected his duties as a husband but also as a father.

Duties of a Husband Thomas makes his wife know how deeply he loves and needs her.

Blinders Business As Thomas Shelby hears of a thriving business in town, he arranges a meeting with the head of the company.

I'll never be her, Finding out Thomas has been secretly seeing Grace, Y/N leaves with Charlie.

I have always loved you,Y/N finds out Thomas is warming another woman's bed and suddenly she finds herself in John's arms.

Shadows of the Untold Thomas discovers the dark past of his wife.

May I have this dance? Thomas had never found the bravery to ask Y/N to a dance, let alone talk to her, but when he notices her in the embrace of a man and hears about the men desiring to marry her, he cannot hold back.

How could you…. A rumour turned into truth, and the brothers are incapable of forgiving the youngest among them.

Dance through the Rain The romantic anniversary was planned to the smallest detail, but Thomas failed to include a rainstorm.

The Sailors Chant When Y/N's date doesn't show up, she sets off on her own through the dark streets of Birmingham.

Sealed Promise A secret, guarded like the royal crown, uncovered by Sherlock Holmes, comes to light.

The Ring In hope of getting her hand in marriage, men of high status are knocking on the door, but the man Y/N hopes to see is not among them.

The Barn Thomas and his girlfriend meet in secret, but the weather gets in the way.

Lurking in the Shadows As Halloween draws near, Charlie's mother worries that even Thomas will fear the costume of his son.

Coming Home for Christmas Returning home late after a rough day, Thomas arrives in an empty living room and not even the dog greets him.

(Un)lonely on Christmas Thomas visits Garrisons and meets the new barmaid.

Love me series

As Thomas Shelby hears Y/N´s parents are searching for a suitable husband for their child Y/N faces a loveless marriage she hoped to never encounter, but slowly the cold walls crumble as the scent of spring is dancing over the meadows.

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

Lost series

Thomas Shelby, a single father, lost his son at the fair and finds him in the arms of an unknown woman and is enchanted by her.

Part One Part Two Part Three

Who did this to you...?

Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

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honeycollectswhump · 2 months

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i want to see ashtray get a pat on the head 🥰 and maybe a burn at the back of his throat. you know. for fun! - @whumpcloud

im very sorry it took me literal AGES to write this! at least you get some angst now :D

Smoke in His Lungs

[masterlist]

CW: pet whump, burns (cigarette & other), dehumanisation, conditioning

Being used is his greatest wish, his only purpose, the one thing Ashtray knows without a doubt how to do. The months –months? he can’t remember anymore– of relentless training prepared him, made a truly polished Ashtray out of the senseless Shape he was before.

Now, he gets rewarded with the highest honour anyone could bestow upon him: kneeling at the feet of his first and only Mistress, the one who owns his body, mind, and soul, and Ashtray couldn’t be more grateful for it. For a short moment, he allows himself to close his eyes and let himself drift in the unintelligible drift of conversation and the comforting smell of smoke.

Not for too long though.

Ashtray blinks himself to awareness again and swallows with difficulty, the tender flesh of his throat still aching with the memory of the scorching wave. Yet he knows not to flinch. Instead, he wills himself to focus on the fresh burn on his left palm, the red, inflamed blister feeling hard against the bare skin of his thigh. It burns, of course, a rush of delight coursing through him.

Burning means he is being useful. Burning means he is a Good Ashtray and, perhaps even, a Good Boy.

There is an ugly feeling in his stomach though, sticking to him and turning the wafting voice of his Mistress into a minefield he has no choice but to cross. Ashtray knows he is dumb, his only purpose is to serve, to obey, he doesn’t need to think. But unlike his blunt Handlers during training, his Mistress’ silky voice remains incomprehensible to him.

It should be a fatal flaw, and maybe it eventually will be, but right now his Mistress shows endless compassion, graceful mercy, seemingly knowing her Ashtray’s limited capabilities, despite his price point. She speaks slowly, gesturing kindly to whatever area she demands of her Ashtray. And he complies –of course–, always eager to serve, and hopes that maybe one day he will memorise the meaning of her words.

This time, his Mistress elegantly points to her mouth with one slender finger, perfectly manicured, her nails sharp and red like wine. Ashtray straightens up towards her, opening his mouth, eyes closed, waiting for how he will be used this time.

Suddenly, his Mistress’ hand is in his mouth, violating, and it takes all of his training not to gag then and there, as he inhales fumes and soot. Burning engulfs his throat like a forest fire, sizzling in a place not made for it.

Calming breaths do nothing against the threat of smoke filling his lungs. Ashtray freezes, his nails digging into his thighs like claws, tries to stop moving, stop thinking, stop breathing, until the colourful spots in his vision make room for a flurrying blur of white static.

Then, almost as abruptly, his Mistress removes the cigarette again, leaving him only with the overwhelming taste of ash seeping into his blood and soul.

He wants to gag. Heave. Retch.

Ashtray waits a moment, then two, until he allows himself calm yet stuttering breaths against the fumes. In his early training that alone seemed like an impossible task, going against instincts he couldn’t explain to himself. It feels good to have his training reinforced, to show –even if only to himself– that it was worth it, that he worked hard to become the perfect luxury product for his beloved Mistress.

Staring back down on his hands, a barely touched canvas for her markings, Ashtray can only breathe. The blister on his palm seems to have broken when he clenched his fist against his reflexes, but he barely feels the additional hurt over the charring pain all over his body, concentrated, irreparably, in his throat. But it's okay. It’s okay. It must be Okay.

It is nothing but pure mercy, when his Mistress lays her hand on top of his head, almost absentmindedly, and starts petting him in slow, gentle motions, making sure not to ruffle his prettied hair. Ashtray tries not to press into her touch, chasing a sensation he knows will be rare. It floods his body like a cooling wave and a fever high at the same time.

Only Good Boys get pet; a blissful knowledge deeply ingrained into him.

Good Boys take the pain they were trained for and Good Boys look graceful while doing so.

And then, maybe, Good Boys will be rewarded with a touch so rare they can barely remember the last time they felt it.

taglist: @whumpsday, @2in1whump, @sodacreampuff, @webbo0, @toyybox, @whumpshaped, @clickerflight let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

Note

Hi again!! Could I request some obey me hcs about Simeon's Fem!S/O preparing him a relaxing bath because she notices Simeon is stressed trying to adapt to the human life?? Not really like nsfw (I mean if you want...) but instead a cute scenario where they are just bathing together with candels and stuff? I tried to follow your rules as clear as possible, hope it's not too cringy,, have a great day!! 💌

running a bath for a stressed out simeon

thank you so much for the cute request! hopefully this did it justice. i adore writing tender relationship fluff and this was the perfect opportunity. the mc did turn out to be gender neutral, since it never really came up-- i hope that's okay! apologies as well for the odd formatting with the dialogue. apparently tumblr has a character block limit and counts all the bullet points together in one block, so i had to improvise.

content warnings: nudity, brief suggestive mentions but nothing nsfw

{established relationship, simeon x reader}

being a human is hard. nobody really gives you enough credit for surviving thus far. your human body is not built for the stress of the devildom, nor holding your own against demons, angels, and sorcerers alike. so of course you're stressed to find that your lovely partner simeon is now a fragile human like you.

even as a human, he has this angelic grace about him. he's all gentle smiles and kindness, soft looks of affection given in quiet moments. he's an angel to the core, even without his powers.

but you know him. you can see the subtle bags under his eyes, the way his shoulders droop just a little when you're alone. he brushes your concerns away with a smile, but you know. you always know.

as his partner, you've taken it upon yourself to pamper him. you cycle through a few ideas-- dinner, a nice date, a night at home-- and settle on something more low-stress, made specifically to melt the weariness from his muscles and the furrow from his brow: a warm, relaxing bath.

living with asmo has drilled the importance of a good bath into you. this man is always talking about his baths. he goes into heavy detail about the salts, the oils, the whole setup. you've heard it all. today, you're thanking him internally for all those lectures, because you're finally putting that knowledge to good use.

you're pretty proud of your work. the lights are off, unnecessary when the room is illuminated by a slew of pleasant-smelling candles. the bath is warm and full of salts and bubbles in preparation for simeon's arrival. upon asmo's suggestion, there's a few rose petals drifting across the surface of the water.

you wonder, quietly, if the rose petals were a little much. but you're not left alone long enough to dwell on it-- the sound of someone entering purgatory hall catches your attention. you peak around the corner and spot simeon putting his things away as he enters. he notices you there after a moment or so and smiles, warm and kind.

"hello there, dove. i didn't see you there. what are you doing here at this hour?"

you explain that solomon let you in, and that you've got a surprise waiting for him. you reach a hand out toward him and watch him smile, confused but content all the same, and cross the room to take your hand. you lead him to the bathroom and push the door open to reveal the bath you so lovingly prepared.

his eyes widen in surprise for a moment before a dopey grin splits his face. simeon doesn't hesitate to pull you into his chest and chuckle. what a nice surprise, mc. he gently coos something about how generous you are, but it's lost as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

"what's all this for?"

you tell him that you've noticed how tired he's been lately. you leave out all the parts where you've worried yourself sick about how stressed out he must be. that'd defeat the whole purpose of a relaxing bath, now wouldn't it?

his sweet kisses are more than an adequate thank-you. after coaxing him out of your arms so he can, y'know, enjoy the bath you worked so hard to set up, he strips himself of the day's clothes and sinks into the warm water with a content sigh.

you smile and make some last-minute adjustments to the candles on the counter. then you tell him to enjoy as you make your way to the door and give him some space to relax.

his hand catches your arm the moment you grab the doorknob.

"wait, you're not staying?"

there's a mischievous glimmer in his eyes-- it reminds you simeon is not an angel. that borderline smirk is human, impish yet lovely all the same.

you ask if he wants you to stay. he looks away and sighs heavily (leave it to simeon to bring in the dramatics), then laments to no one in particular about how this bath is just so big and spacious and how he worries he might actually be too tired to wash himself. if only he had a doting partner around to help...

alright, alright. you get it.

you feel his eyes on you when you begin to peel off your clothes to join him. your eyes meet his. that's not very former-angel of you, simeon. he laughs and looks away with his hands up in defeat.

stripped and ready to bathe, you urge simeon to scoot forward. when he complies, you slip in to the bath behind him. your fingers gently graze his back, his shoulders, his neck, all the way until they find his hair. you don't neglect to notice the way he shivers in anticipation under your touch. but that's not the kind of bath you had in mind today-- you're more worried about making sure simeon finally gets some peace and quiet.

he thoroughly wets his hair as you lather up some shampoo in your hands. then they find his scalp, massaging in slow, gentle movements. he sighs, content, and you're almost certain his eyes are closed as he leans back into your touch. you're careful to treat every inch with the same amount of love. your nails work through his hair to make sure every strand is clean and soapy before you sit back and ask him to rinse.

the same process begins as you run conditioner-covered fingers through his soft brown locks. he's humming quietly now, his voice being the only sound joining your breathing and the sounds of water shifting around you in the tranquil air. every so often, one of his hands will linger on the surface of the water to play with a clump of bubbles. gone is the previous tension from his face, replaced now with an angelic serenity you're happy to see again.

finished, you let the conditioner set as you grab a wash cloth and some soap. a gentle tap tap on his back prompts him to sit back up. his shoulders are broad and proud-- for a moment, you imagine his wings emerging from between those toned shoulder blades. they'd definitely make a mess of everything you'd worked so hard to prepare. you smile fondly as your fingers rub across the muscles on his back.

it's been a strange adjustment to think of simeon not as an angel but a human now. there's no wings to spring forth, no blessing to use in times of crisis. he's human, like you. there's a sense of camaraderie there, for a brief moment, but you can't help but wonder how hard the transition must be for him. being a human is hard; being a well-adjusted human in the devildom is near impossible.

you press a kiss to the nape of his neck. he shivers, a loose giggle slipping up from his throat, and you begin to rub the area with a soapy rag. you repeat the same steps across other parts of his back-- each of his shoulders, the top of his spine, anywhere you can press a soft kiss against his flawless brown skin-- each stroke meant to cleanse him of his troubles.

he means the world to you. watching simeon struggle has been a unique sort of punishment. even with how well he hides the stress, you know his feelings about the matter must be just as tangled as yours.

you decide to let him in. your soapy arms wrap around his waist as you press a cheek to the flat of his back. then you tell him the truth: you've been worried about him. you've seen how stressed he is trying to adapt to his newfound humanity. the bath was your way of saying you care, of saying that you want to help him in any way you can.

he's quiet for a moment. then, he laughs.

if you could see his face, you'd see his watery eyes and the big grin on his face so tight and pleased that it's making his cheeks hurt. he doesn't quite know whether to laugh again or cry. he's touched. you care. you've once again slipped past any wall he's put up and noticed things he wouldn't even admit to himself. he's so lucky to have you, to be able to spend evenings like this with you, to have someone as caring as you take care of him.

his hands find your own, intertwining your fingers and he leans his head back on yours. yes, he admits, he's been a little stressed. simeon apologizes for making you worry and admits he never realized how stressful being a human actually was. nobody around here gives you enough credit for that. human bodies are fragile, y'know. never in his life has his back hurt so much, it's-- what's that? you're teasing him for being an old man? well he was flattered, but on second thought--

the once-serene bath is now lively with laughter and taunts. maybe you can't give him his wings back. but you've given him a blessing all the same: you. your smile, your kind words, your presence beside him day in and day out.

to him, that's the best gift he could've ever received.

#i!! fucking!! love!! fluff!!#give me tenderness or give me death!!#ask response #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc #obey me simeon fluff #otome

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house-strong · 1 year

Text

— DRAGONS BANE, chapter four ʾ ⋆

CHAPTER FOUR — the pawn and the queen

glossary ; chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six.

summary ; while aemond is continually struggling to understand what these feelings that he’s experiencing are, he can’t help but continue to be vexed at his mothers newfound fondness for you. you, on the other hand, are trying to navigate court in the way your father had taught you.

notes ; lots of dialogue and character building,, includes aemond's pov and his thoughts,, whose ready for when i destroy this,, also this gif? shiyittt,,

taglist ; @cypherpt5fttaehyung @tachibubu @underatreedrinkingtea @anita-alice @shnadaidas @kitkat-writes-stuff @itisjustwhatitis @rosedovve @mistalli @thesnugglingduck @miaowchan17 @fancylisoo @merakiaes @sanguinalia @ephemeralninon @averageperhaps @sana-within-you @thegreat-annamaria @tina-theslytherin @signyvenetia @vikingsisthenewsexy @mitsuyaws @andysnewgroove @gloryekaterina @fandoms8 @aemond-apologist @lizajane2 @witchymermaid12 @sunscreenfeverdream @marytvirgin @s0ph-3 @starddustt @redridingpants @aaleksmorozova @riddlerloveb0t @bcon24 @sonyascreams @queenofshinigamis @myspy @woodandwaxwings @camilbarnesss @muddleofnervouswords @dudfahsn @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @kpoppunk18-blog @aphroditeisamilf @dottie-witch

want to join? click me.

a sudden spout of soft giggles compels you to return to the real world.

thoughts that once contained the night festivities from days before had continued to plague your mind. there was a certain uncertainty about that night; was aemond showing his true colors or was there something more deceptive at play? you’ve tried to recall the techniques that your father had taught you beforehand; what was aemond’s reasoning for wanting to get on your good side?

“sweet girl, has anyone ever told you how adorably witty you are?”

your gaze raises from the cup of wine in your hand, a small smile forming on your lips at the compliment the queen mother had given you.

“once or twice from my lord father, though i must admit, it is very nice to hear that from you, your grace.”

your reply seems to soften her resolve, for she sighs in content and fans her slightly flushed face. you assumed it was both the alcohol and her laughter than caused the rosiness of her face. she clears her throat, tucking a strand of dark curly hair behind her ear.

she takes another sip from her cup, “how have you been faring here, my dear? i hope my daughter isn’t giving you too much trouble?”

now, you’re faced with a choice. you can either tell the truth and explain to her of her youngest sons inability to stay on your good or bad side, explain how he causes aggravation and irritation in his wake, and how helaena has been nothing less than a sister. or, you could lie; tell her that everything is peachy and fine, no disturbance whatsoever in your time being here.

you assume it’s appropriate to tell her a half-truth. it wasn’t necessarily lying.. was it?

“just as i’d hoped,” you start, fingers lightly tapping against the gold goblet, “helaena is good and kind, she treats me as if i were of her own.” you lick your lips as you weigh the next words in your mind before on your tongue, “but i must confess, i have a strange longing for home.”

queen alicent has gotten up from her cushion on the other side of the room and has crossed the median, sitting beside you and setting her cup down on the table. she coos gently before taking one of your hands into hers. her hands are tender and warm, almost motherly.

her smile only seems to become more genuine and happy, if that was possible, “i’m very glad to hear that.”

“i know it must’ve been strange to see brother wed sister, but i am glad that you are supportive of helaena.” supportive. that was one word for it. alicent looks away, smacking her lips once she finds the words, “sometimes duty is what we must sacrifice love for.”

unsure if the queen was alluding to herself or helaena, you simply nod in understanding as if the piece of advice had given you some clarity. you slowly raise the cup of wine, taking a sip.

“how about aemond?” the question causes you to sit up a little straighter.

“forgive me, your grace, but what exactly about aemond?”

“has he been kind?” she asks, one of her hands leaving yours and finding the stem of her cup. her fingers curl around it before raising it to her lips so she can take a drink. was this a trick question?

another truth or lie situation. aemond was.. an enigma, that was sure. he was hot and cold; one minute he could be giving you a genuine smile after he had chuckled (him chuckling was something very special to you), then the next he could be emotionless and devoid of any sign of human life. he could be kind, but then he could turn into a force you wouldn’t want to reckon with.

you could compare him to storms and lemons, two drastically different things but served the same purpose when dealt in the same sentence as aemond. storms come and go, pretty in the distance with the smell of petrichor, then an unrelenting force when the clouds break lightning and thunder over your castle. each strike rattling the foundation and making you wonder if your home would survive the typhoon.

lemons, well, lemons were a beautiful yellow, bright and promising. but when you take a bite, instant sourness attacks your tongue and leaves you bitter.

you swallow the sudden thickness in your throat, “he has kept me company.”

it wasn’t exactly a lie. aemond has been someone who was very constant in your life since living here in grandeur of the red keep. he’s like a plague on your freedom, invading anything and everything he can; the godswood, the library, insulting your family memory, or even ridiculing your occupation.

queen alicent seems content by this answer, but before she can reply, a kingsguard opens the door. he has warm, sun-kissed skin and unruly black hair. you were sure this was criston cole, aemond’s master-of-arms and ultimately, queen alicent’s personal shield.

“prince aemond, my queen.”

aemond struts in after the kingsguard, his expression placid. he stops in the middle of the room, one hand enclosed around his wrist that’s settled at the front of him. he’s looking between the two of you, eye shooting back and forth. that’s only when he notices that his mothers hand is still enclosed around yours and how close you two were.

this only seems to anger him as his jaw becomes set, adding to the sculpture of his face. the hold on his wrist tightens to show the bone underneath the skin.

“i fear our time together has been cut short, my lady.” the queen says as she refocuses on you. she gets up and you follow, one of her hands finding your shoulder, which she rubs. she stays like that for a moment, eyes observing your features before she pulls you in to give you two chaste kisses on your cheeks. “off you go, my dear.”

you curtsy at the queens leave and set your cup on the table. you turn and make way towards the door, offering aemond a smile that he doesn’t return. safe to say, he doesn’t even look at you. some newfound feeling starts to pluck at the strings of your heart as you exit the room.

once you’re surely out of earshot and the wooden door closes behind you, aemond blinks at his mother, “do you plan to treat all wards of the crown with such familiarity?” his voice borders the bitterness of ice.

queen alicent, already sensing where this conversation was going, simply sits back down and rubs at her temples, “aemond, don’t start.” her hands join together in a fold where she places her head on top of. “you’ve been sweet on her too.”

aemond wants to tut and roll his eye at the comment. it’s as if his actions were enough to excuse hers. he chooses to hum with irritation instead, moving to sit on a chair nearby. silence drapes over them and they stare challengingly at one another, as if the other was pleading to give them an excuse to start an argument. aemond gladly takes the bait.

“she’s been here for little over a month and yet you’ve treated her with more kindness than aegon or i combined have ever seen.”

alicent, unsure as to what to say, stays silent–this only furthers aemonds growing resentment.

“you can’t even be bothered to deny it.” aemond’s voice was borderline hurt and his furrowed expression only backs that. he starts playing with his hand, cracking the knuckles where he can as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

“i don’t blame you,” he says, his stare unwavering on alicent, “she’s everything you could have possibly want. hair like yours, a certain wittiness, a fondness for duty–she’s not like aegon, helaena, or i.”

after a moment of silence and despite his best wishes, he swallows the lump that’s grown in his throat, “do you despise us?”

alicent weighs aemond’s words in her mind before deciding to respond. perhaps she should’ve stayed silent. maybe he would have found more comfort in no response than the one she comes up with.

“if you truly think that, then you are not as clever as i thought you to be.” the statement doesn’t do much to quench the fury he felt bubbling in his stomach or warm his aching heart. he, however, has decidedly given up and clears his throat. the answer he wanted wasn’t one he was going to get. disappointment is obvious as he stares down at the floor.

the only sound within the room is the fire that cackles loudly and the clang of a flagon against the table in the middle of the chairs. alicent has reached for it and poured herself a fresh cup. she leans back in her chair, sipping on the contents slowly while she’s deep in thought.

despite being unable to voice her affection for her children properly, alicent was sure that aemond was the child she favored over helaena and aegon. his brother was an incompetent drunk who often whored his way down the street of silk, scurrying away in the shadows like a rat to enjoy his nightly activities. what they were, alicent couldn’t find out, but she was sure she didn’t want to know, or even, she didn’t care to know.

helaena, ever the dear, was a force that alicent simply couldn’t understand. what alicent couldn’t understand, she was often irritable towards. helaena was quite cryptic and involved in her own hobbies; little creatures of bugs and insects stored comfortably in her room, stitching these same bugs as blankets for the child she was currently carrying. it’s possible that alicent couldn’t care to involve herself in her daughters odd passions.

what ever disconnection alicent had, perhaps there was some truth to aemonds words about you. you reminded alicent of herself when she was younger: bound by duty.

“aemond,” his name almost feels foreign and distasteful on her tongue after his outburst, “i fear i must ask something of you.”

aemond, despite the annoyance and discouragement he felt welling within him, turns his head to face his mother, “name it and it shall be done.”

his compelling need to win his mothers love and affection through devotion and loyalty was something that never went unnoticed, especially by her. he couldn’t help but sometimes feel like a dog being whistled up to do as its masters bidding.

alicent takes another sip of her wine before rising from her seat. she begins to toy with the rings that adorned her fingers while she’s in thought.

“the tyrells are the seatholders of highgarden and therefore, wardens of the west. your grandsire often talked about how their endless fields produce bountiful crop–enough so that it makes up most of the realms food.” she begins to pace back and forth. aemond watches her carefully, “the tyrells have always been sympathetic towards matriarchy–his family was the first to bend the knee to princess rhaenyra, i have no doubt he wants to pass highgarden to his daughter.”

aemond crinkles his nose at the mention of his half-sister. he was so sure he hasn’t been summoned to his mothers quarters on the pure need to share a lesson in history, what was her point?

“do you recall me explaining to you that our spies were sighting rhaenyra and daemon flying to highgarden?”

aemond nods his head, “i do.”

“i believe rhaenyra was planning on joining their houses–our dear, little flower to her son, jacaerys.” alicent turns around to look at aemond. his leg is now crossed over the other and he is well in thought–obvious realization dawning on his face as he realizes what his mother is trying to tell him.

“jacaerys is barely a man with any hair on his chest,” he responds.

alicent smiles and sits on the cushion that’s closest to aemond. she settles her elbows on her lap and leans forward. one of her hand goes up to tenderly stroke his cheek and aemond almost feels the need to lean into her touch. he simply closes his eyes and enjoys the warmth of her single digit against his skin.

“you, aemond, are a man grown.” her hand drops from his face. a few moments of silence and aemond reopens his eye to meet her look, “you will woo her and convince her to marry you.”

aemond wants to laugh, but all that comes out is a half-assed chuckle that’s mixed with a breathless scoff. he looks at her as if her proposition was some kind of joke. even if she was serious, aemond couldn’t find it in his.. heart to even try to begin properly courting you.

he had so many grievances against you; your family was conspiring with princess rhaenyra (which, in his mind was already traitorous enough even if she wasn’t technically a rebellion against the throne), you had won the affections of his mother (which should’ve been his by his own birth, but that’s a subject he doesn’t want to argue about anymore), and.. what ever this feeling was that he had swallow down the night of helaena and aegon’s wedding celebration.

it felt like bile was stuck in his chest, unmoving and forever keeping him in agony.

he turns his head away, the hardness returning into his jaw, “anything but, mother.”

“aemond, please,” she softly, “if not for me, then your brother– your sister. if rhaenyra comes to power, there’s no telling what she will do to you three.”

aemond, despite everything in his self interest, knows she’s right. bound by his desperation to keep his family together and happy, aemond casts an unhappy look towards his mother.

“i’ll do what i must.”

alicent gives him a fond smile once his reply reaches her ears. despite everything that was said, alicent can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in her chest. even though he was vengeful and oftentimes full of an anger she couldn’t comprehend, she could admit that his loyalty to his family was one of his limited strengths.

“i know you will, sweet boy.” sweet boy. that was the first affectionate name his mother had given him. was it wrong to still feel resentful? was it possibly too late to start letting her affinity towards himself be known? was this merely the lemon on top of a lemon cake that will help ensure his success in wooing you? aemond couldn’t tell, but he knew that he did not like being called sweet boy.

aemond purses his lips and licks his teeth, “can i go now?”

“you may.” the affirmation of his leave is enough to make him stand, give his mother a slight bow, and saunter out of the room without a second thought.

he paces the halls of the red keep, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks about his newfound mission. what was he to do about you? how in seven hells was he supposed to muster the strength to not only gain your friendship, but your love? what did he know about love?

aemond was sure he didn’t know anything about it. his mother hated being a mother and never properly put her heart into caring for them. his father, well, his father was tiptoeing between the line of living and being dead. when he was younger, he had always watched his father favor his nephews over his actual sons. maybe that was the reason aemond was so spiteful against them and the world.

he rounds a sharp corner and nearly knocks into a body. his hands shoot out on instinct and grip the shoulders, his eye taking in the person before him. you. how convenient. the parchment you were holding drops to the ground and gets trampled over, much to your dismay which is vocalized with a groan.

“we have to stop meeting like this.” aemond is unsure whether it was a tease or if he was being mean, but it looks like you’ve receipted it as a tease.

you bend at the knee and pick up the piece of paper, “maybe you should look where you’re going.”

aemond’s brows furrow and he’s ready to make a combative comment, but the grin on your face tells him that you weren’t being an ass. maybe he needs to get out more.

“what’s that?” he motions with his chin towards the ruined paper in your hands.

deciding to make fun of the situation, “this was a letter meant for the princess explaining all your whereabouts as i am her spy.”

if aemond could physically bristle at your jest, he would now. his eye opens wide and he makes a grab for the paper. your brows furrow in confusion and you swat his arm away, pulling the paper out of his reach.

“that was a joke, aemond.” your voice is scolding and aemond doesn’t like that.

“if it was then let me read it.” maybe aemond was out of line for asking, or rather telling, but he just needed to be sure.

you scoff, “no, this is a letter for my father. it’s personal. besides, i thought we weren’t friends?”

you don’t miss the way aemond rolls his eye at your last comment. touché. he huffs in defeat, his eye narrowing pointedly at you.

“i could command you,” he suggests, his hands joining behind his back as he leans against the wall. you stare at him challengingly and he can’t help but notice the fury that brought out a certain light in your eye. maybe this wasn’t the best way to woo you, but he was never one to accept defeat.

“then you’d be losing the closest thing to a friend that you have,” you retort back. was he incapable of being decent? incapable of returning to the man that you’ve laughed with those days ago? “if you want friends, my prince, then i suggest you don’t use your power over them.”

with that and an angry exhale through your nose, you turn sharply on your heel and leave him alone in the courtyard.

aemond can’t help but feel discomforted at your use of ‘my prince.’ he was doing well, he reckoned, as you called him by his name earlier in your conversation. maybe he egged you on a little too much.

maybe.

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #hotd #my writing #dragons bane

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Text

Ember in Your Hands

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: so sorry for not updating in like forever!!! i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: none, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Thirteen- When You Know, You Know

—-

Knowing is something fascinating. You can know a million things, a million facts and dates. You can know the entire world.

But what you know can change.

You used to know Grace, her touch and her love, and now it’s only a memory. Sometimes you feel her so strongly in Kiri, but Grace is not Kiri and Kiri is not Grace. You have a dead aunt and a child to take care of and raise.

They are not the same, and you know that, but it’s hard.

You raise her and all of your other children to know. Know that there is something good coming, because they’ve already suffered so much in their short lives.

Do you know that you’re starving or do you feel it?

What are you hungry for, what do your bones ache for? Will you ever know?

There is an entire life to live, spread out before you. An entire storm to be the eye of.

When you know, you know.

You used to know that you loved your mates, it was never a question, and you used to know that they loved you back.

But nights are hard and days are harder, and you don’t know anything anymore save the sound of your own breath.

You used to know tender touches and soft words, you used to know love. That heart-fixing, world-changing kind of love. The three of you burned the same way. If they burned, you burned, and you burned they burned. If you lived, they lived.

But now, you’re not so sure if you’re living.

You are, in a way, you are breathing and you know and you have thoughts and you feel things like sadness. But you also know that nights are hard and days are harder, and you don’t know anything anymore save the sound of your own breath.

When you know, you know, and maybe you know that how you’re living isn’t working anymore.

—-

“There is Jake!”

It takes you a second to even remember that he’s yours, that your head should turn at the call of his name, and you do, after you remember that you love him.

Ronal slows to a stop in front of you and turns to the side, woven basket on her hip, and you switch your own basket that’s piled high with seaweed to your hip. Neytiri takes a few steps closer to where the waves hit the sand, and when Ronal doesn’t say anything, you turn towards the bright blue waters and the faint image of your mate at the side of a tsurak.

He slowly grabs his queue, bringing it around to the tsurak’s queue. You can faintly make out a glimpse of pink tendrils swirling around before the tsurak shakes in the water, sending small ripples toward your feet.

You can faintly hear Tonowari say something about it being a warriors mouth, but Jake seems to refuse whatever offer he makes and climbs on anyways.

You spare a glance at Ronal, and she has the slightest glimpse of a smile on her face, like she knows some secret, and she’s awaiting its unfolding.

The tsurak roars loudly and Neytiri’s shoulders tense.

If you didn’t have to question your love for them, you would comfort her. But you do, so you stay where you are.

Jake ties his hand to the tsurak, ensuring he won’t fall off, and maybe it’s something in the waves or the wind but you know he will fall.

You remember the first time he tried to ride a pal’i, where he fell off and got mud in his mouth.

One second of silence, until he shouts and the tsurak takes off into the water, gliding like a knife. It’s the sort of precision the humans don’t have, the naturalness.

Finally, the tsurak tilts up and unfurls his wings, shifting unsteadily through the air while Jake tries to steady him.

You look over at Ronal and she looks at you. Her smile is so faint and short-lived that you barely believed you saw it. When you turn back to the show, to Jake, your replay over and over in your mind until you realize it. Until you know.

Maybe there is some sort of bright spot in Awa’atlu, maybe when you know, you know.

You can tell as soon as he dives back in that his form isn’t right. He’s placing all his trust into his hand, and he doesn’t secure his legs properly. He’s just being dragged along like you were.

He slams into the water with a crash, and you can faintly see him falling away from the tsurak and thrown through the water behind the animal. Like a leaf blowing along a current of air, being dragged along like you were.

Tonowari winces, while the other warriors laugh. Ronal covers her mouth to cough briefly, and Neytiri deflates a little.

You’ve realized, in the past few days, that she will not like it, but she will go along with what Jake says. Jake thinks it is best to hide, and now you’re hiding. And a part of you does realize that it’s best to hide, to disappear among these thousands of islands, but you still want to be home.

This place is beautiful, but it is making you lose your love, like your fire is slowly dying, and you know know how to stop it. You know nothing except that nights are hard and days are harder, and you don’t know anything save the sound of your own breath, save the sound of your fire dying.

When you know, you know.

—-

taglist:

@eywas-heir @mjesecevo-dijete @ok-boke @tsukicores @neteyamforlife @itsyoboysparkel @tejas-kris @noname2246 @skxawngsworld @itsemy01 @littlexscarletxwitch @ara-a-bird @ghoulbli @ssc7514 @kitkat1690 @hai-kbai @disaster-in-waiting @milf-lover-23 @hot15936 @ssc7514 @ducks118 @bubble-blu @pitypinkabyss @squidalapobre @thatbitch99

everything taglist:

@monsterwasstolen @fanboyluvr @artologia-blog1 @tulipatheticee @elvyshiarieko @fluffisalliwant @fluffi19 @jeizllz @myheartfollower @fy-fy-world @minkyungseokie @ivy-plays @blueberryfailureclinic @cryingwhilereading @thatratprincessforever @dumb-fawkin-bitch @sillyblues @buttercup-beeee @smollangrycat @n7cje @eternallyvenus @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @w3ird11 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @babyminghao

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #avatar way of water

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unlikelyjapan · 9 months

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s2e6 rewatch notes - part 2

OK, jumping back in from the point where Stevie says "Carm, this is a good thing."

Richie passing Tiff the Sprite (inside the bedroom that is totally just the walls of Donna's brain - the Carmela Soprano-esque mom tchotchke's mixed with predatory animal statues and black accents - maybe a bit too on the nose....) and saying "Carmy made this for you - he's a god damn pop machine, this guy. He's a weird little dude!"

Both Richie and Tiff mistake Carmy's kindness for weakness, just like everyone else from his past. It explains why Tiff would gravitate towards someone like Richie - she hates his brashness (see when she wanders into the kitchen scene after throwing up and he's just revving everyone up) but accepts it so long as it's countered with tenderness because that fits with her idea of masculinity and normalcy.

"We're trying to....um....you know, hook him up with Claire Bear -loosen him up a little bit."

Tiff - "With Claire? Why would you do that? She's so nice."

Nice people (shorthand for normal people) deserve archetypical masculine guys who can be romantic - not people who are neurodivergent and kind. Trauma doesn't factor into any of their considerations in setting people up, because they don't reckon with their own.

The subject changes to Richie and Tiff's relationship and future plans/housing - after just discussing how to "turn Carmy into a MAN man" we watch Richie quietly flounder because we know damn well The Beef won't afford the kind of life Tiff envisions for their new family. Tiff shares her dream about the all-green clothes for them/red for the baby (the baby breaking their mold/image) and they wonder aloud if they're going to be good parents and if Eva is going to like them.

It's true that they'll be better - they're present, they don't want to start from a bad place. But when we look at how they were razzing Carmy, it's indicative of the fact that they're not about to shed the baggage of their histories - they are playing roles that were established for them through their pasts, so they're doomed to failure after the glow of new family wares off and life gets in the way. It'll just look a little different, a little better.

Richie utters "I don't want to be at The Beef every day" to Cicero as Mikey is ranting about the Bill Murray story in the background. Richie was exhausted by the patterns in his life 5 whole years ago, and it wasn't just about providing for his family. It's so obvious that he fully regressed during the pandemic/things not working out in his new life the way he hoped. He also knew at that time that "I'm good with people, but I've never really had an outlet for that" and he never gets to prove what he intuits until "Forks" - by the grace of Carmy, no less.

*lights a candle for Natalie Berzatto* All of Natalie's abuse is so straight-forward and targeted. I'm glad they explored her character this season, but she's still too neatly-tied for the type of abuse she endured. Some of that is a celebration of her core female essence/strength, but I feel like some of the veneer still has to crack in future seasons - if they have her reeling from postpartum depression in S3 on top of her initial worries about Donna/motherhood, it's truly going to break my heart.

Taking a moment just to appreciate John Mulaney belittling the Faks, as it's the only scene where I found their presence enjoyable.

Carm grabbing the saltines and asking Mikey about them working together - Mikey saying The Beef is a nightmare is self-explanatory, but the fact that Carmy follows it up with "I don't want you talking to Claire if you don't give a fuck" and Mikey assuring him that he does, convinces Carmy that Mikey loves him through his meddling with Claire. Out of the two things Carmy has yearned for (at this stage in his life) since high school, Mikey only wants him to have one of those things - the one Mikey and co. decide will be good for him.

Mikey saying "I give, like, the biggest fuck" and Carmen looking pacified/accepting of that statement, means that his father brother is telling him that Claire is the most important thing for him to pursue in his life, and he's just asserting his love for his brother by trying to set him up with her. So much damn pressure....

Discussing The Bear drawing outside the pantry

"It's beautiful....",

"Yeah....we could do this"

"Yeah.....let it rip."

I'm pretty sure this is the last one-on-one conversation Mikey and Carmy ever had, matching the suicide note - this scene is a living goodbye, and John Berenthal plays it like he knows it. Expert-level shit, expert-level acting all around.

All hail Sarah Paulson's hot mess of a character (you can take the dysfunctional girl out of the midwest, but you can't take the midwest out of the dysfunctional girl), even if she was just around to narratively offer Carmy a flashing exit sign (knowing that he's talented and cognitively different from the rest of the lot) and dole out the story about how bears grieve.

I think one thing that Richie, the Fak's and other "related by friendship" hangers-on have in common is that they recognize that Mikey and Carmy's familial suffering has made them dynamic in ways that their own suffering has not. Both have their own unique gravitas that separates them from all the other men in their crummy suburban life - these other men are trying to absorb power by proxy.

"Can you just go and get Dad's gun out of my drawer and I think I'm just going to blow my fucking brains out and then you guys can make dinner because I don't think anyone would fucking miss me" - many thanks to @loudlightobservation for pointing out in the part one comments that Donna probably has untreated Borderline and Narcissistic PD. I initially thought this scene was over-the-top, but I burned an hour reading about how severe the reactions to perceived abandonment can be in these cases.

As per my comments about Natalie and her veneer, at least she can do things like ask Stevie "can you hug me?" and select men like Pete who will always be ready to do so. Unlike the boys, she learned how to identify needs and self-soothe early, probably because she was the most neglected of the three.

Didn't know where to put this: Cicero's relationship/flirtation with Donna when she's in the kitchen "do you know how fucking hot you are when you're slurring your words?", Lee's hatred of Cicero, and Lee trying to make inroads with Donna (again) through a work collaboration - the building in Wilmette likely being the property that Cicero mentioned having to offload. Carol (revealed to be Cicero's wife by name in s1e4) yelling at Lee as he enters for his first scene of the show. Again, I didn't know where to put these interconnected notes, but WHAT. THE. FUCK. HAPPENED. HERE.

Also, is Lee a former partner in The Beef (after he presumably replaced the Berzatto patriarch for a stay) and that's part of the resentment towards Mikey - along with sharing Donna for a time? Or is it something else? I've had a hard time piecing together these narratives beyond the obvious psychosexual connection to Donna.

Ugh, the all-hands crucifixion of St. Pete - I morphed from "who is this cuck?" in season 1 to wanting to storm onto the set and carry him out myself like a baby - not unlike how I felt the first time I saw Carmy slapping the donut out of Marcus' hands. Cringe but ultimately minor transgressions in a charged environment wind up being the greater sin than full-on emotional abuse with the Berzattos.

I'm finding there's less to dissect in the second half of the episode - everything is more overt. Cicero is generous. (re: shielding Richie). Natalie and Carmy are emotionally spent from their Donna-duty.

The whole final Donna/Carmy kitchen scene brings up a lot of existential questions I ask myself as a cook about food being a mechanism of control. I love to gather and cook for people - but I also know I'm an anxious person who needs to control the narrative, and sometimes I want people to be somewhat beholden to me through the care I extend to them through food and entertaining. In doing this, I sometimes feel pushy, and know there is always a level of avoidance in hosting/caring for people.

But with Donna, and through that conduit, Carmy - food IS control. Food IS enmeshment. Food IS the forcing function for unruly togetherness (through the restaurant and grand celebrations in the Italian tradition).

I hope that Carmy, through his collaboration with Syd, carves out a healthier narrative of what caring for people through cooking and service means. I don't think he hates cooking, as others have postulated - I think he hates the enmeshment, I think he hates himself for feeling he needs to control people through food. I think he hates feeling forced to do it, because he can't function that highly outside of it. The sooner he can extricate himself from his past, the sooner I think he'll love creating food and sharing it again.

The Lee and Mikey jousting bit is essential to the dinner unravelling, but while it's immaculately acted, it's not really interesting to me since it's such an overt conflict. Poking the bear, fighting to be the patriarchal figure of the house, blah blah blah. It makes for great visuals, but it doesn't reveal any new depth beyond "men=fucked."

And the "cousin, you're scaring the normals" comment - I see no evidence that anyone who would willingly wander into this abattoir fits that description. The best part of the scene is when Lee says "throw another fork at me and you're going to get fucking rocked" and then there's just the pregnant pause, immaculately shot, with the old clock ticking in the background.

Lee's "You're nothing. You're nothing. You're nothing" harkens back to "You're bad at this. You are bullshit. You should be dead" - all of the Berzatto men are capable of being ground to a pulp by other men they perceive to be authorities in some form or another, and I think we're only just beginning to see in this season how women factor into the equation (those in charge and those who are seemingly powerless) after a lifetime ruled by Donna.

Donna, who enters the scene, and everything defers to the power she holds over everyone with her tempestuous illness.

Ha, I missed the line in Stevie's grace where he says "We're healthy, I think? No ones si....no ones physically very sick."

"Natalie Rose Berzatto...." God. If I had turned off subtitles, JLC's delivery in this scene would make anyone hear "Do you know how much I fucking hate you" - because that's what she meant. And God bless Michelle.

It seems like, the moment Carmy looks at the car and the cannoli, it's finally cemented in his mind that Mikey and Donna are intrinsically the same person (but the selective trauma memories he maintains after Mikey's death wipe out the bad, hence his surprise about him using etc). Ending with Natalie's A+ horror film face and the lyrics "Could you ever know how much I care?" was absolutely the right editorial tone to end the episode.

I'm going to be honest....I thought I'd find a lot more in this hour than I actually did.

I'm really looking forward to Bolognese onwards, mostly because I really miss Syd now - the show without her energy (mostly because Natalie still has inadequate development, through no fault of her own) is just male trauma from a male perspective....

#the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear spoilers #the bear #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #syd x carmy #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #claire the bear #mikey berzatto #donna berzatto #the bear s2 #carmy berzatto

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pandorasfavorite · 8 months

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Can I have Dom x Fem reader where they both secretly get tattoos for each other and see them and fluff ensues?

Forever more

You make it through, the 2 hours it took for the tattoo on your arm to be complete. You didn't have many tattoos but the ones you do have all have an important meaning to you. You're husband was the one person in your life that you can look at and feel like the day was magnificent. Everything that bothered you throughout the day is now lost somewhere in your head when he smiles at you as if you are his air supply.

Dominik on the other hand got a tattoo the day ahead and put in his best work to hide it from you till tomorrow… your anniversary. Dominik is sitting in a tattoo store with his own artist, his leg is jumping up and down, and for the millionth time scene he’s been there he pushes his hair back making the tattoo artist snap. “Are you good bro?”, Dominik exhales the breath he’s been holding, “I just hope she likes it man”, he’s all jittery in his seat. The tattoo artist clicks on the tattoo gun again and speaks with confidence, “if it’s my work she’s gonna love it”.

And that brings you both to now, anxiously tapping and waiting to show each other what you did as a devotion of your love. You slide next to Dominik on the couch taking his hand in yours, you fiddle with his wedding band exhaling deeply. “I want to show you something”, you both say at the same time. Your eyes both widen comically, and you both encourage each other to go first. Your relentless insisting he goes first, he lays his hand out and holds your hand, “Okay I’ll go first”.

Dominik lifts up his sleeve the fresh ink sitting beautifully on his skin. The tattoo is the words “Mi vida” and the date of your anniversary under the picture of a flaming heart, your name written multiple times in a small font to create the outline. You can’t help but gasp and grab his arm softly, pulling it closer to you to see the small bits of detail he added. Dominiks worry is etched into his face, then you start to tear up; your lip wobbling while you look at him in pure mess. Dominik moves forward grabbing your face immediately to comfort you, “What? What is it baby?” He says in a quiet soft voice his mind swimming with bad outcomes.

You shake your head no, as if you can read his mind, “Nothing- sniff- I just love it so much”, you sob shoving him into a hug and gripping his shirt. Dominik holds you just as tight, sighing a breath of relief and holding you lightly with purpose. After a moment you pull away wiping your face and laughing a little at the twinge of awkwardness, “My turn”. Dominik is confused for a moment; his nerves from before making him forget about your surprise. You turn to the side some lifting up your sleeve just like Dominik.

Your tattoo has a small picture of two hands with there pinkies joined together, accents of purple outline the picture and under it is written, “forever more”. Dominiks body softens as soon as his eyes grace the skin of the tattoo, he holds your arm with tenderness rubbing up and done with his mouth slightly parted. “Wow. This is- this is”, you raise your eye brows at his silence, “perfect. So perfect”. He laughs at your worried face and he pulls your lips to him. Laughing into the kiss, over and over, playing with your hair.

#dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio fanfiction #dominik mysterio fluff #dom dom #dominik mysterio x you #dominik my bbg #wwe

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moonlight-prose · 2 years

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first you flirt with layla and end up kissing her- which ends up making marc jealous in return. he spends days moping about and starts making snarky comments to hide his jealousy (he’s not so great at hiding it)

then you kiss steven, who can’t stop thinking about it for the next couple of days. filling his and marc’s head with thoughts about you

eventually marc ends up drunk at your front door crying about being the only one being left out (he’ll deny he cried about it)

KISS ME, KISS ME, KISS ME

a/n: this drabble was MEANT to be super short and small, but i ramble so here we go my darling. i hope you enjoy!

word count: 1556 (don't look at me)

pairing: layla el-faouly x reader, steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader

warnings: kissing, more kissing, and some spit kink (again really don't look at me)

The first time you kiss Layla it’s soft. Softer than you imagined it would be—a direct opposite to what you usually get when kissing other people. She doesn’t swiftly grasp for you; doesn’t bite down harshly on your lip to remind you who exactly was in charge. No, it’s tender, gentle and by all means reverent. She leads you into a dance of subtle hints and sweet smiles, until you feel a dizzying high that’s so different from anything you’ve experienced before.

Before you even notice it, she’s licking slowly into your mouth—tongue pressing against yours and you swear you can taste that coffee she always orders in the morning. Her hand is buried in your hair—not enough to hurt—just enough for you to clasp onto. A reminder that this wasn’t Marc or Steven…this was her.

She pulls away, eyes fluttering open to take in your almost intoxicated expression. That sight alone draws her lips up in a smile—not quite a smirk, but you can see it beneath the surface. She likes the way you look. As if you’d bend to her will with yet another kiss and the truth of the matter was…you would.

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes hazy as your mind came up with scenario after scenario.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs. Sliding her thumb along your bottom lip with barely any pressure, she gathers the saliva left behind and pushes inward until your lips are wrapped around her finger.

If you died in this moment—you’d be okay with it. Given the way your insides had turned molten and your brain short circuited the second she placed her lips on yours. Whimpering, you drag her closer until your lips are back on hers and she’s once again leading you through a dance you never wish to stop. You want the taste of her burned into your mind. So sweet and subtle, but strong enough to get drunk off of.

You don’t stop kissing her until she has to leave and even then you beg for one more in the open doorway of your home.

You kiss Steven for the first time three days after Layla. What came over you to reach over, drag him in by the collar, and slot your lips against his you’ll never know. But you’ll never forget the way he gasped—a shudder running down his spine as you tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. It’s not nearly as intoxicating as Layla and you’re thankful he doesn’t overtake you, but it’s beautiful.

He sighs into your mouth like he’d thought of nothing else for months, before he’s lightly dragging his hands upwards. The pressure of his palms against your waist is enough to drive you mad. Or at least drag him so close his scent is burned into your senses, the way his tongue hesitantly sweeps through your mouth. He doesn’t know how to kiss—that much is obvious—but it doesn’t stop you.

Oddly enough the door opens and Layla walks in. A smile gracing her face as she finds you practically sitting on Steven’s lap, your tongue sensually pressing against his until he’s shaking. You nearly feel bad for making him whimper, beg, plead for more. Except then you pull back to see his face and realize…this is what Layla must have seen on yours.

It’s a new kind of high to see Steven’s eyes all glassy—his lips in a perpetual pout that has your own curving up to a smile. You like him like this. Putty in your hands as you slowly lean in to kiss him again. Layla’s lips press against your bare shoulder—whispers of how good you two look together echo in your ear before she’s pulling away. She had her time with you…now it’s Steven’s turn. Fair is far after all.

That doesn’t stop you from licking into Steven’s mouth, gathering saliva on your tongue before moving away to cup the back of her neck, pressing an open mouthed kiss on her lips—pushing Steven’s spit into her mouth. She moans into the kiss, her hand tightly gripping at your hair before shifting back and leaving the two of you alone once more. Steven is greedy enough to cup your cheeks and turn your face back to his with enough timidness to melt your heart.

He wants you—craves you, and it’s there you realize that you’ll give him whatever he wants just to have a chance to kiss him like this again.

“Well I just don’t see the point in kissing them both,” he mutters into his glass of whiskey.

Your eyebrows raise as you attempt to bite back the smirk that threatened to show on your face. “You don’t see the point in me wanting to kiss…both of them.”

He grumbles, the scowl you recognize so well on his face once again returning. “Well yeah. Layla is my wife–”

“Divorced.”

“And Steven is literally apart of me–”

“I’ll give you that but–”

“So why did you want to kiss them and…” he trails off, staring into the amber liquid as if it would give him all the answers he sought.

Smiling, you lean forward to cup his chin and drag his head upwards so his eyes lock on yours. “Marc…did you want me to kiss you too?”

The red flooding his face tells you everything you need to know. “No,” he states. “Absolutely not. Have fun with both of them.”

Letting go of his face, you lean back—swallowing the rest of your drink and shrugging. “Whatever you say Spector,” you tease, getting up from the table. “Enjoy your drink.”

It’s two hours later that a sullen knock is hitting your door. Before you even open it you know it’s him—can feel it in your bones—and low and behold you swing the door open to see him…drunk. He leans against your doorway, the curls more pronounced and falling into his face the way Steven wears it. You nearly mistake him for Steven until he begins speaking—the American accent coming through thick and strong.

“Why didn’t you kiss me too?” he asks, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

The sight alone nearly makes your heart shatter. “Oh baby,” you whisper.

“Steven’s been replaying the kiss you two had and all I can think about is…why didn’t you kiss me? Did I fuck up somehow? Or…or hurt you?”

He didn’t know how wrong he was. You had wanted to kiss him the first day you met him—the anxiety of the day still prominent in your mind, but you could recall your imagination running rampant with thoughts of him. Of Marc and his lips. Without another word, you drag him into your home and shut the door. He’s moping, you can see it written across his face. Of course, you won’t tease him about it. You know what longing for kisses feels like.

“Do you want me to kiss you Marc?” you asked gently, cupping his face to keep his eyes level with your own.

“I just–” His eyes close. “Yes. I would.”

Leaning in slowly, you press your lips against his and feel the steady rate of your heart speed up until your nerves are all you can focus on. Even when he’s not trying, he’s good at this. He moves sluggishly, breathing harshly against your cheek, until his brain finally catches up with what’s happening. The world turns on its axis as you’re walking back until you hit a wall, his lips now giving you a run for your money. Whereas Layla was teasing and giving, Marc takes. Steals your breath and makes you beg for more.

Where Steven was soft and hesitant, Marc is strong and dominant. There’s something in his hold that says he wants this—you—but he’s also afraid of hurting you. As if you’ll break beneath his palms. Moaning into the kiss, you shudder when his tongue sweeps along yours, running along the top of your mouth and dragging another sound from your throat. Why you hadn’t kissed him sooner, you don’t know. You were sorely regretting waiting so long at this moment.

“Marc,” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut when his teeth pull at your bottom lip gently.

“Mhm.” It’s mumbled against your cheek, his breath hot along your skin.

He’s driven your mind to madness, the heat burning through your body until you can’t think straight anymore. You don’t even fucking want to at this point. All you can sense, taste, feel, is Marc and you want more. You want him to drag you to hell and back with his lips alone. Tugging at his hair, you manage to gain the upper hand, sucking on his tongue and smirking into the kiss when it’s his turn to moan.

“You’re right,” you breathe, choking when he nips down your throat. “I should have kissed you a lot sooner.”

It’s a day later when Layla hears about what happened. You bet the hickeys on his neck tell her the story and you joke that they are now matching. Steven is last to find out—laughing at Marc’s expense when he learns what exactly occurred. It’s enough to make you smile. Even though Marc refuses to accept the fact that he begged…let alone nearly cried.

That however is soon rectified when you press your lips against his again.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x you #layla el faouly x y/n #layla el faouly #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight fic #moon knight #my writing #posting this and RUNNING #adiossss

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