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marthawrites · 2 months

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Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list

I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!

"Vok" (Perfect)

Aemond Targaryen x sister reader

Word count: 2.6k+

About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.

Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️

To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.

To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.

To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.

To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector.

Your secret.

A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.

The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?

Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.

Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.

Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.

The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection.

“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”

“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.

“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.

Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”

“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.

“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”

“W-what?”

He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”

“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”

A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him.

You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.

“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”

A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”

He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”

Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.

“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”

Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.

“Yes, what?”

Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.

Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.

“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”

You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain.

“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”

It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”

It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”

You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.

Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”

You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.

“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.”

Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.

“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More.

Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”

“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.

As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.

“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement.

You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.

“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”

Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.

Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.

“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”

Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.

With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”

And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing.

Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.

Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight.

“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”

As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.

To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”

You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”

In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.

You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.

His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.

You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily.

He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.

You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.

Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”

Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @targaryen-dynasty @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @rafeism @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @connorsui

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond request #aemond imagine

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celiastjamesoscar · 6 months

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To Be Alone

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Being alone was something special to Wednesday, but being alone with you was sacred. And she refused to share you with anyone else, even if that meant owning up to her feelings

A/N: this is part 1 of a series. If you would like to be included in the Taglist for it, let me know!

Warnings: slight friends with benefits, jealous Wednesday, snarky Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

My Masterlist

The sound of obnoxiously loud music rang throughout the room as the students of Nevermore danced in sporadic movements, and none matched the rhythm of the music. Crowds were never a fan of Wednesday’s, but she would put up with the brightest colors and loudest thumping of music to get a glimpse of you.

It was out of character for Wednesday to want anything romantic in her life, let alone with someone like you.

To put it nicely, you were just like Wednesday, a snarky asshole whose mouth sometimes got you in trouble. But you were also more friendly than Wednesday could ever be; you cared for others deeply, while Wednesday barely superficially cared for them. But when your warm, soft lips met Wednesday’s cold, stiff ones in the darkness of the woods on the coldest of winter nights, Wednesday felt her heart reach a warmth it had never known.

Your relationship with the Addams girl was a weird one, and you never expected her to be someone who would enjoy a friends-with-benefits situation. But when Wednesday called you at an ungodly hour and asked, no, told you that you were going to be her romantic partner for dinner with her family, you didn’t refuse her.

Wednesday prepped you on the car ride to dinner and told you everything you would need to say; you and Wednesday met through fencing class and soon became friends after Wednesday bested you in a duel. That information was vital to the story, according to Wednesday. You two only started to date after a romantic walk through the local graveyard, and you shared a kiss on the tombstone of the late Marilyn Thornhill.

The dinner was a peaceful one, with all things considered. You won the approval of Gomez Addams, and you seemed even to impress Grandmama. Morticia adored you, but she saw right through her daughter’s scheme of forcing you into a fake relationship with her. Of course, she would never tell Wednesday that she knew her daughter was lying to her about her relationship. Still, Morticia enjoyed watching her daughter pretend to understand the beauty and pain that is love. And Morticia knew that after enough time, Wednesday would slowly start to realize she had feelings for you.

After that dinner, you kissed Wednesday’s lips for the first time, entirely by accident. You had leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but your sudden movement had startled the shorter girl, causing her to turn her head quickly, and when she did, her lips brushed yours. Instead of pulling back, Wednesday leaned deeper into the kiss and soon gripped your neck, trying to pull you impossibly closer as her lips connected with yours. She soon became addicted to them, and she refused to let anyone else taste them, and she soon started up an agreement with you; no feelings were involved, just late-night stolen kisses and moonlit strolls through the woods. But now, as she watched you talk with other women who weren’t her, she felt her chest tighten with anger.

“Wednesday, what are you doing?” Enid asked as she suddenly appeared beside the girl, startling Wednesday out of her thoughts. Enid had a suspicion of the goth girl’s interest in you, even though Wednesday refused to acknowledge it.

“Staring at Y/N with my autistic eyes,” Wednesday deadpanned, and the ravenette’s statement took aback Enid. “Um, okayyy,” Enid awkwardly replied as she gently placed her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders, slowly turning the girl, “I don’t know what to do with that information, but let’s go over here, where you can’t stare at Y/N.”

Truth be told, you weren’t doing anything to provoke jealousy in anyone, especially Wednesday. But the Addams loathed seeing you smile while talking to Yoko. Jealousy was a feeling she knew all too well, and it only happened with you. And for that, she would potentially murder you in your sleep tonight. It would be a clean murder, nearly no blood at all, but it put a frown on Wednesday’s lips; she wanted your murder to be a gory one, one that would bless her dreams of haunting images of you for the rest of her days, but the thought of drawing out your murder made Wednesday feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: sadness.

“No,” Wednesday stated as she shook off Enid’s grip and continued watching you talk to the vampire. It was a dull dance, and you were only here to socialize and to make Wednesday jealous, which was working.

“Why are you so keen on watching Y/N talk to Yoko? They are roommates, like you and I,” Enid cheerfully replied, hoping to help ease the tension in Wednesday’s shoulders, but it only seemed to worsen. “Enid, three-fourths of this institution thinks that you and I are together romantically,” was all Wednesday said, and Enid picked up the hint.

“Point taken. So then, why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Like a normal person would do instead of staring at her like a creep,” Enid suggested, but judging by the glare her roommate gave her in return, she assumed that Wednesday hated the suggestion. “Well, if you’re going to be a loser whose only way of flirting is staring at Y/N until she notices you, then I don’t think you will have any luck at pulling her. But I wish you the best,” Enid stated as she quickly looked at you before returning her attention to Wednesday. She gave the goth a small hug-which Wednesday did not return-before skipping off to go God knows where.

It was as if Enid’s presence was stopping you from feeling Wednesday’s uncomfortable glaring, and as soon as the werewolf was gone, your eyes automatically found Wednesday’s dark ones.

You politely excused yourself from Yoko before walking over to Wednesday with a smug smile on your lips. Wednesday hated that smile on you, not because it looked terrible; it was quite the opposite. That smirk did something to her; it stirred something profound inside her, and she hated the beast you awoke in her.

“My lady,” you husked in a raspy voice as you took Wednesday’s hand in your own and bowed while placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “What were you two talking about?” Wednesday asked, wasting no time in finding out if she was going to murder Yoko as well.

“Relax, my dove. We were just talking about ‘The Haunting of Hill House,’ nothing to worry about,” you replied softly as you stood up straight and gently caressed the more petite girl’s hand.

Wednesday scoffed at the pet name and tried to pull her hand out of your grip, but it only caused her to draw you closer. “You miss me that much?” You asked with a smirk as you placed Wednesday’s hand on your chest, and instead of pulling away, the more petite girl slowly ran her hand up your chest and stopped as she took your necklace between her polished black fingers.

It was a gift from Wednesday, of all people, and you wore it with pride like it was your last name. You never took it off, and in a way, it acted like a collar; no matter how far you strayed from Wednesday, people would look at it and automatically know who you belonged to.

The necklace itself was a golden chain that ended with a small circle. The circle had gold-colored beads with small, black dots in the middle. And in the center of that circle was a golden ‘W’ with a line attached to it, holding the W in place.

“You still wear it,” Wednesday stated as she flipped the W between her fingers, gently caressing it with her thumb.

“‘If you ever take this off, I will rain hellfire down on you and your family until the end of the earth. I will haunt you in this life and the next; you will never be able to get rid of the image of me standing over your lifeless body if you were ever to remove this necklace.’ Those were your exact words,” you recalled with a smirk as you watched Wednesday play with the necklace. “But hey, at least you think of us together in the next life.”

“No,” she simply stated, and you were going to argue back, but she pulled you down to her level by the necklace, “If you ever tell anyone I have plans with you in the next life, I will skin you alive and feed your remains to Fester.”

The laugh you gave Wednesday in response angered her beyond belief, but the sound of it infested her stomach with spiders, and if she wasn’t careful, she might even admit to caring about you. “Jokes on you, Uncle Fester is my best friend. We are basically inseparable,” you remarked as you stood back up, and Wednesday let go of the necklace.

“I hate that you are his favorite person,” Wednesday mumbled under her breath and then cleared her throat as she remembered why she needed to talk to you, “I will be needing your assistance this weekend.”

“And why’s that?” You asked with a smirk. You knew it was parent’s weekend, and Wednesday needed to keep up the act of you two being together; you just wanted to hear her admit it. “My parents are coming this weekend; you must be there to prove to them that I am capable of feeling emotions other than intense anger and homicidal thoughts,” Wednesday deadpanned as the loud music slowly turned into a softer one, a waltzing song.

You didn’t recognize the beautiful melody, but you stuck out your hand toward the smaller girl. “Can I have this dance?” You asked with a soft smile, and if it were under any other circumstance, Wednesday would have said yes. “No,” she dryly replied while slapping your hand away, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t know it was a question,” you stated.

“It’s not; I just like allowing you to think that you have a say in what you get to do.”

“You are a woman after my own heart, Wednesday Addams,” you joked, and Wednesday scoffed at you. “In your wildest dreams,” the goth girl stated as she walked away from you, but you followed her.

“So what will this weekend trip entail? Do I need to start flushing my teeth and putting on chapstick?” You questioned while following the smaller girl out of the ballroom. “Why do you not already floss your teeth?” Wednesday asked with an eyebrow hitched, clearly displaying her irritation that you don’t floss regularly.

“Ummm, because it’s pointless? I brush my teeth twice daily. Isn’t that enough?” You retorted with a curious look. “One day, you are going to wake up in the middle of the night, and all of your teeth will have fallen out of your brainless head. When that happens, I shall make a necklace out of them and force you to wear it as a remembrance of our conversation about flossing,” Wednesday stated as she walked toward her room. She had a weird way of showing affection toward you.

When Wednesday reached her dorm, she opened the door and tried to close it on you, but you caught it in just enough time and stepped into her room. You shut the door as you followed the ravenette toward her desk. “Okay, but seriously Wednesday. What do you want me to do when Mr. and Mrs. Addams arrive?” You questioned with a serious expression, and when Wednesday looked up at you, she missed your usual playful demeanor.

“Be normal. You’ve been around them before; why do you still ask me how you should act around them?” Wednesday questioned as she loaded paper into her typewriter. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I hate lying to people! And your mom is hot, so that also makes me nervous,” you responded with a little bit of defensiveness. But for an unknown reason, Wednesday felt her heart slowly break at mentioning your attraction to her mother.

“Do not remind me of your infuriating attraction to my mother,” Wednesday deadpanned as she began typing, “And we aren’t lying to them, so you don’t need to worry.”

A small scoff left your lips at her comment, but then a mischievous smile overtook your lips as you found a loophole. Carefully, you leaned an elbow on Wednesday’s desk and smirked at the ravenette, who seemed ignorant of the mistake she made.

“So, we aren’t lying to them, correct?” You asked in a calm voice as your eyes examined Wednesday’s face. “Why are you making me repeat myself? You are correct; we are not lying to them. Now, will you please leave me so I can work?” The Addams coldly remarked as she shook the feeling of spiders in her stomach at your proximity. No matter how many stolen kisses you two shared, you always made her nervous and gitty, which was a feeling she both loathed and cherished all the same.

“By that logic, we aren’t lying about our fake relationship? So that means we are actually, in fact, dating?” You asked with that same smirk, and Wednesday knew she had fucked up when she looked into your eyes and only saw hope that didn’t match your playful smirk. “We are not in a romantic relationship at all. We are just two acquaintances who engage in romantic activities from time to time. Now leave,” Wednesday stated as she grew increasingly annoyed with you.

You gave the smaller girl a pathetic sigh as you pushed yourself off the desk and slowly sauntered away from her desk, but before you could get too far, Wednesday grabbed your wrist. When you turned to face her, Wednesday reached up and tightly gripped your uniform tie as she brought your lips down to hers, and you both sighed into the kiss.

It had been too long since you both found comfort in each other’s lips, and Wednesday had started to crave their delicate touch and sweet taste. And, of course, by ‘too long,’ that meant nearly a day. The kiss itself was a chaste one that displayed all of the love and affection Wednesday had for you that she could never verbally say.

Only when oxygen became a problem did you pull away from those heavenly lips. With a small huff, the ravenette rested her forehead against yours as her free hand came up and slowly stroked your jaw.

“I want to rip out your mandible and add it to my bone collection,” was what Wednesday mumbled against your lips, but the words that traveled through your ears were, ‘You mean so much to me that I want to have a piece of you with me forever,’ and you were happy with that translation.

“You have such a way with words, you know that? You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you mumbled against her lips before placing a final kiss on them and turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked as she returned to reality when she didn’t feel your lips anymore and saw you walking toward the door to leave.

“You told me to leave, so that’s what I’m doing,” you replied before a slight smirk overtook your face, “Why, do you miss me already?”

“No. Just be ready by tomorrow morning so we can eat breakfast with them,” Wednesday stated as she continued her work, ignoring the feeling in her stomach at the thought of you leaving for the night. Most of the time, when her parents visited, you would stay the night in her dorm to further push the agenda that you two were a couple. Definitely not because Wednesday found it hard to sleep without you at night.

“Goodnight, Wednesday. I hope your dreams are just as evil as you are,” you joked as you opened the door, and Wednesday huffed in response as you left the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday hadn’t been working on her novel. She had been writing out all the things you make her feel, and when you had wished nightmares upon her, the final sentence that had made its one onto the page was the thing that shattered her heart the most: ‘Gods should fear the love I have for you.’

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Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @baddiebbarbietngz @maskthedwarf @aroaceanxietylemon

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednsday addams #wednesday addams x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #Spotify

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 1 month

Text

[12:11 pm]

(cw: f!reader, a child)

Dad!Jaehyun was moody which was odd. It had been an unusually easy morning. There was good breakfast, nice morning with cartoons that hadn’t been as annoying as usual. The little, sister dogs had actually even been kind of cute. You were curled up at his side on the couch playing with his hair and being very loving- which he loved.

His daughter was calm, ate all her breakfast, and had been extra cuddly and adorable. She had gone down for her first nap with no fussing and didn’t whine when you got her ready. This was also odd for the almost one year old, it was like hitting the jackpot with her this morning. She was in a cute little dress Jaehyun had proudly picked out himself and little sandals that he loved because her tiny toes scrunched up every time she wore them.

But, all the pleasantness of the morning wasn’t why he was moody. Obviously not, it had been a beyond ideal morning. He was moody because you, his wife, had been teasingly poking fun at your daughter about Uncle Johnny.

Stupid Johnny. Johnny who made his daughter get shy and hide and lean toward the obnoxiously tall man. Seriously, who even needed to be that tall? She planted her cute, wet kisses on Johnny’s cheek instead of her own dad, made her cling to Johnny instead of him. He hated it.

You parked outside Johnny's house, unbuckling your daughter from her car seat. You tickled her side, cooing, "are we going to go see your favorite? Are you excited to see Uncle Johnny, princess?"

Jaehyun's face fell into a grimace, following behind his girls with the diaper bag on his shoulder. Suddenly he was wondering why he accepted the invitation for this impromptu barbecue. Maybe he should lie and say he had a stomachache so you all had to go back home, or say that he just saw his daughter have a diaper blow out and there was no extra clothes. Then it was too late, you'd already rung the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal the smiling giant, "Is that my favorite girl?!"

Your daughter hid her face in your neck, smiling shyly but also not objecting to Johnny taking her from your hold. Johnny held her like a total pro, he was the favorite uncle after all, and greeted you and Jaehyun with hugs while ushering you in.

"Look at you, princess! Are you so happy to see Uncle Johnny?" You smiled brightly at your daughter while snapping a quick picture.

Your daughter simple babbled and cuddled closer to Johnny, making her dad's face fall into a deeper frown. You turned to Jaehyun with a knowing, teasing glint in your eye, "she loves him so much."

He grumbled, "she loves me more though."

You wiggled your fingers at your daughter while Johnny toted her around, "I don't know... she's obsessed with Johnny."

Jaehyun glared at you, "it's like you're trying to hurt my feelings right now. A baby can't be obsessed with anyone anyway."

"She's obsessed with me," you shrug.

"You're her mom, duh."

You snort out a laugh, "Try it out then. Try to get her to leave Johnny."

Jaehyun smugly walks over and tries to coax his daughter to him. She furrows her little eyebrows at him and turns back to Johnny, patting his cheek with a look of wonder. Jaehyun scowls, trying again, even going as far as shaking her favorite toy in her eye sight. But nothing, his daughter lays her head on Johnny's shoulder and whines.

"Dude, you're bothering her," Johnny pouts, rubbing his free hand up and down the baby girl's back comfortingly.

Jaehyun pouts and trudges over to you and embraces you while burying his head in your neck, very reminiscent of what his daughter had just done to Johnny, "she hates me."

"Maybe the next one will love you more than Johnny."

His head snaps up, "next one?"

You smile nervously, "surprise?"

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun blurb #jaehyun timestamps #dad!nct

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meshlasolus · 1 month

Text

Too Sweet

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: hey guys so i may or may not take a writing break (i know i said i was gonna write more but like) the stress of all the nazi shits that keep plaguing my comment sections on every post i make, regardless if it’s political or not is making me wanna tear my head off… so I might just go away a while.

Warnings: fluff, awkward mentions of past relationships, dbf!joel, smut, piv (unprotected), so much teasing. It’s actually pretty cute guys.

Is anyone at all surprised by the song choice? Hozier has us all in a headlock rn… also this is dedicated to my favorite joel writer @macfrog bc she’s just amazing and you should read her work.

MASTERLIST

“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.” Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice.

“Dates are a bad idea,” you reminded him, handing over another nail from the box in your hands.

A last minute kitchen Island was added to the kitchen’s floor plan on the current house the team had been working on, so now it was up to yourself and Joel to make that happen. Well, it was up to Joel to make that happen, and it was up to you to stand by and watch him.

“I know, s’just,” he shook his head, hammering the nail down and holding his hand up for another. “I don’t get the whole thing these days where relationships are built on hookups.”

Your lips turned up in a smile. He was an old fashioned guy, with old fashioned ideals about love and dating and relationships. It was sweet, albeit a little obnoxious. You rather liked hooking up with him, however little it may be.

“Where would we even go?” you saw how on the first hit, the nail went crooked, so you handed him another before he even reached.

“I don’t know, hadn’t thought that far.”

You had to laugh at that.

“You wanna take me on a date but you don’t know where we would go?”

“Well,” he finished the last nail then stood up next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “This ain’t exactly an easy situation, we got your old man to avoid.”

Very reasonable, but sort of an obvious point by now. This entire thing started based on the fact that: you know each other because of your father, as in, they are each other’s closest friend. Pair that with one man hooking up with the other’s daughter, it becomes a disaster waiting to happen… except for he doesn’t see it that way, and neither do you.

You sighed, looking around to make sure everyone was still outside with the boss. Joel had just wiped his forehead on his arm to rid himself of the sweat, and you could see the tension in his muscles from the work he just finished. You stepped up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to peck his lips once.

“If you can find a place where we won't get caught, then I’d love to go on a date with you.”

He smiled, kissing you again. He had wanted to tell you he was too sweaty for hugs right now, but as soon as you wrapped yourself around him, those thoughts suddenly left his mind. You just fit so well against him, he wonders how he never realized.

He was even older than you thought. Not actually, but this man had decided on a date location, and as you were pulling in, the things packed into the backseat started to make sense.

“Drive In movies?” You shouldn’t be surprised, the guy is practically a fossil, he even texts like he's still got a flip phone.

“Your dad’s never taken you here?” He chuckled, pulling into the line at the front.

“No,” you laughed, leaning back in your seat as the cars ahead moved up.

“Good, then we won’t run into him.”

You reached and grabbed his hand over the center console. He always gave two little squeezes before readjusting his grip, rubbing his thumb on the center of your palm. It was sweet, comforting.

He rolled down his window and paid the attendant in the booth, just a kid, probably still in high-school… but he certainly had an attitude on him, given the nasty glare he served Joel after making eye-contact with you. Joel had never let go of your hand, the kid knew he wasn’t your dad.

“What’d you tell him, anyway?” He asked, driving off towards the lot on the opposite side of the land. The big screen was not even rolling the trailers yet.

“Hm?”

“Your dad,” he seemed almost shy about mentioning your dad in front of you, in this context. How did you lie to him this time? But he knew what he was doing, what he’d been doing and still plans on doing.

“Told ‘im I was gonna go shopping with a friend, that I may or may not sleep over.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, never taking his eyes off the road. He pulled into a spot in the very back corner, where it was likely to remain empty the entire duration of the movie.

“Oh did you, now?”

You turned a light shade of pink at admitting to him you wanted to sleep over… not like it was a new occurrence, but you hadn’t really asked him yet.

“I didn’t tell him for sure, I know Sarah-”

“Sarah’s with Tommy at a concert in Dallas,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and turning off the engine. “Text your dad, let him know that friend of yours is keepin’ you till tomorrow.”

He got out of the truck, walking around the front to open your door, holding his hand out to help you down. Ever the gentleman.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you teased, walking around the backseat door and helping him unload the piles of blankets he’d managed to stuff in. The man practically emptied the top shelf of his linen closet for this.

“Anything for you, M’lady.”

He ended up taking almost everything into his arms, letting you carry one pillow and a single blanket towards the back of the truck. Normally it was all dusty and gross, proof of the work it helped him do. You wouldn’t even have noticed, because you don’t often pay attention to the state of other people’s truck beds, but he had cleaned the whole thing out, making it look as if he’d just brought it home from the dealership… minus the odds and ends of dents from his toolbox and timber.

“What’s playin’?” You nodded up to the screen as he took the pillows and blankets, tossing them across the truck bed to make a cozy little area for the two of you.

“It’s uh…” he reached into his pocket, checking the nightly double stubs. “Jaws and E.T., it’s a Spielberg double feature.”

You don’t remember telling him that Spielberg was your favorite director, but maybe he was just already at that place where he could read your mind… or maybe it was just a coincidence and he thought that the throwback double feature at the drive in would be fun. Either way, he hit the nail right on the head.

“Sounds good to me.”

When everything was settled just the way he wanted, he turned to you, his hand out towards the blankets. “After you, darlin.”

You tried to step up on the tailgate, but your foot slipped for how high it was.

“Want me to give you a toss?” He joked, but you rolled your eyes at him. You would not be acquiring his help after that joke.

“I’ll be just fine, thank you.”

It may have been embarrassing, but like hell you were gonna give into him, his chuckles of amusement under his breath as you slowly and steadily climbed up by yourself. It was much harder to grab onto the dip in the bed when there were so many blankets spread out. Eventually you made it up, collapsing onto your back into the mound of bedding.

“First try,” you raised a fist in the air, looking back to him to see his amusement had not ended and he was smiling wide where he stood, arms crossed and brows raised when your eyes met. “You comin’?”

And as easily as he could walk, he used the ridge along the underside of the tailgate to climb up over on the side, sitting down next to you and giving you a light hearted side eye. “See how easy that was?”

“Oh yeah, sure. You must be so proud, you’re a pro at climbing into your own truck.”

He laughed, laying back beside you. “Baby, I think anyone looks like a pro compared to you.”

“Maybe I’m just more athletically inclined, wanted to take the long way,” you chided, sitting up onto your elbows and looking over at him. The trailers had started running, and the light was hitting his features so nicely. He looked so nice. You could argue that he always did. At work when he was a sweaty mess, he looked real good then, too.

“I’m sure that’s it.”

He settled against the pillows, nodding his head upwards for you to join him. He brought you near with open arms, one that settled under your shoulder and the other that settled on your waist. You’d tucked your head under his chin, feeling him rest his head on top of yours.

You both had fucked around, sure… but this was a little slice of heaven right here. No amount of sneaking around or giving each other temporary pleasure beat the simplicity of laying next to one another, breathing in each other’s air, and being on a date. A real one. It wasn't a hasty exchange built upon needing to get off, but a choice to spend genuine time together, in which you receive nothing but the pleasure of one's company.

You couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date. Joel was right, hookup culture had become too strong in this day and age. It stands to reason that you haven’t actually slept with anyone in a while. You like being asked out, but guys your age don’t exactly want to give you that satisfaction. Joel asked you out. Sure, he fucked you silly on the stretch of his fingers only a week ago… but he still asked you out.

Jaws ended sooner than you thought it would. Back when you were a kid, and afraid of sharks, it seemed much longer of a movie. There was a lull between it and E.T., assuming the kid working in the projection tower had to change out the film roll himself. It made for a sweet and quiet conversation that sparked up as soon as the credits rolled.

“You bring a lot of girls here?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, even though it was meant as a teasing question.

“Nah,” he said anyway, turning a bit more to face you. “Usually, I don’t have to hide from my girlfriend’s dads. Not since highschool, anyway.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His use of the word girlfriend, which subtly implied that’s what you were… but you weren’t one to assume, or at least, not with Joel and the risky business of your relationship. You laced your hand with his between your bodies, looking down at his fingers while you did your best to recover the conversation without acting awkward.

“The more I think about it, I’m not so sure my dad would be angry.”

Joel wished he had the mindset to think that way.

“You kiddin’ me? If your dad found out I’d been messin with his only daughter, I’d get his shotgun to my head.”

A laugh escaped your lips, but you shook your head.

“You’re not just messin with me, though…”

At least, you hoped he wasn’t. Of all things that could be said about you and Joel, it was that you had already gotten attached. Already been to a place where you miss seeing him at work every day when you go home. Miss talking to him and learning more about his life, and having him listen about yours. There have been so many people in your life who told you that you talk too much, or that you never shut up. But Joel never has. He listens, and he’s happy to. You’d hate to lose that one day and never get it back.

“No,” he lifted your chin so you’d meet his eyes again. “I’m not just messin with ya.”

You held his stare for a moment, neither of you leaned in. It was just a nice moment, to look at one another, and to appreciate what you saw. A moment to see that hey, Joel has little flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes. A little moment for when you get sad that he isn’t around, that way you can remember how he looks at you when he is around. It’s something mixed with longing and contentment. Two opposites that somehow come together on his features and tell you more than his words could ever say.

“Good,” you finally replied. “In any case, my dad won’t shoot ya. I think he loves you too much.”

He laughed, the low rumble vibrated through his chest, and you felt it against your joined hands.

“You don’t suppose I could woo him over too, huh?”

“I don’t think your charm would sway him as easily.”

“Oh I got charm, now?”

“No, not really… nice ass, though,” you giggled, and he playfully shoved your arm back, causing you to fall into a fit of laughter on your back. “Just bein’ honest, mister.”

“I see how it is,” he pulled you back in with a swift move of his arm. “Only want me for my body.”

“What can I say? I’m a modern woman in a modern world.”

“S’all the same to me, whatever gets you to agree to a date with me. Still can’t believe you did…”

He says it half jokingly. You know he doesn’t see himself as desirable. Even though he’s in the prime of his life and is quite literally one of the finest men this town has to offer, he looks at the obstacles. He works too often, has a teenage daughter, he doesn’t look the way he used to, some people find him incredibly boring… but only the worst people.

“Joel, I'm lucky to be on a date with you.”

“Yeah, sure… s’not like you ain’t got a hundred guys your age lining up behind me to-”

You kissed him. He was not going to be permitted to speak if he was not going to say nice things about himself, a new rule you were establishing. He didn’t seem to care much for the rest of his sentence after you pulled away, the words slipping from his mind the second your lips touched his.

“I like you,” you told him, making your intentions very clear to him. You weren’t just messing around, either. “You treat me better than all those shitheads, anyway.”

You’d been passing in and out of consciousness on the drive home. You’d been up since the crack of dawn this morning, the neighbor’s dog barking incessantly. You’re sure Joel heard it too, unless of course he’d been laying on his good ear, the bad one would have canceled out all the noise.

The streetlights go by in waves over your eyes, lids closed lightly after each time they flutter. You were curled so sweetly into the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, finding such comfort in the place. You’d have thought it was where you spent most of your time. His hand was on the edge of your knee the whole drive, rubbing small circles over the area.

By the time you both had gotten home, you had to scan the yard for signs that your dad may be in the near vicinity. He was usually never home on a Friday night, unless there was a Rangers game or if he had company. It made sense that his car was gone when you both pulled up.

“You text him, yet?”

You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your back pocket and completing the task meant for three hours ago.

“It’s only ten, he might be at the bar, still.”

You didn’t over explain anything in your message, no need to make him question your thoroughness. Just something simple and quick.

Staying over at Amy’s, I’ll be back before lunch. Drive safe.

But then you immediately deleted the last part. Because how would you know he’s still out?

Joel had cut the engine, getting out and walking around to meet you at your door, except you’d already opened it and stepped out yourself.

He gave you an unserious look that feigned offense.

“Hey now,” he settled his hands on his hips, the sass evident in his voice. “We’re still on a date, miss. I’m supposed to get the door.”

You knew he wasn’t really upset, but you found it funny pretending as if he was.

“Modern woman in a modern world, remember?”

“Yeah,” he waved you off, shutting your door and taking your hand as you both walked up to the front door. “What all does that entail, anyhow? Bein’ a modern woman?”

You smiled, watching him take his damn time with the keys. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well, since achieving the vote, we’ve made quite a bit of ground. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re allowed to work with you guys, now.”

“Ah… how did I miss that?”

“Weren’t looking hard enough. We also get to wear pants now, so I can see why you’re confused.”

And once the door was open, he lazily slung an arm around you to let you inside. Ladies first and all that. He didn’t actually respond to your last comment until you were both in the entry hall, door closed.

“Shame, I kinda like you without pants,” he hovered in close, partially teasing but otherwise just to get his body nearer to yours. The heat between you blossomed, and it could easily be sensed on both sides since leaving the truck.

“Mister Joel Miller, don't you know the best part of a modern woman?”

He raised his eyebrows, his head shaking once and eyes rolling over. Just say it already.

“We can ask any man we want to take our pants off.”

There was barely a second between your words and the speed of his lips meeting yours. It was different from the kisses at the drive in, now it was harsh and hungry. A stark contrast to the softness and the serenity. This was clouded by lust, by the human need to devour.

Joel was not gentle by nature. He was often brutish in his work and day to day. There were few people who genuinely saw him gentle. Sarah, Tommy, your dad, and you, his other side neighbors, and Carol, the lady who takes Sarah to school when he can’t. Maybe not in that exact order, but that was the list nonetheless.

You’d always seen him gentle, so the moment he backs you into the door, your back slamming on the painted wood, something stirs. You liked Joel how you knew him… but maybe there was other unexplored territory to delve into.

“Joel,” you whined out on the end of a breath. His name falling from your mouth was always how he preferred to hear it, but under this context had to be his favorite.

“Baby,” he trailed his kisses to your cheek, then jaw, then neck, resting in the crook of your shoulder and seemingly finding a home there. Your hands dove through his hair, tugging ever so gently and feeling the vibrations on your skin as a repercussion. His hands never found a resting place, running up and down your sides, every few seconds reaching down for a feel of your ass. He seemed to like yours, too.

When the arousal became too much, you tried your luck at rolling against him. The sound he made alone would have been enough for you to know how badly he wanted you, but the feel of him through his jeans was a physical show of it. He gets hard so fast for you.

“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.”

Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice.

He watched you from behind, taking the stairs two at a time until you reached the top. You nearly tripped over the last stair, but before you could go toppling over, his arm around your waist stopped you dead in your place.

“So damn clumsy,” he shook his head, the edge of a smirk forming. He tapped your hip with his free hand, getting you to move forward again until you got to his door. “Can’t get in a truck, can’t climb stairs…”

Now that he’d teased you first, you felt you had a small bit of free reign to mess with him. He was still gonna have you, but why make things so boring? You stared at the handle, gripping it, but making no move to twist it and open the door.

“Doorknob too much for you, too?”

You narrowed your eyes over your shoulder, where he was lingering closely. You could feel him pressed against your backside, the arousal evident in every breath he took, but he was still having fun with his little pokes of annoyance at you.

“I think I remember a rule about your room being off limits…” You trailed, cheekily smiling at him before he reached around you and opened the door himself. He held out his hand with a cocky raised brow, and waited for you to step in.

“Ladies don’t always have to go first, y’know. S’all part of-”

“Bein’ a modern woman, I know.”

But still you went in first, taking a few steps backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed and caused you to sit. You tilted your head at him, still leaning in the doorway, his hand on the frame above his head and his other hand still steadily on his hip. What’s he waiting for?”

“I ain’t gonna wait all night, cowboy…”

He chuckled, shaking his head and slowly coming forward. For someone so eager, he was taking his sweet time.

“You’re cute,” he gently pushed you back into the mattress, crawling one arm at a time over your form. “But something tells me that you would wait all night.”

He leaned down and met your lips with his, feeling your hands climb from the bed, to his shoulders, then to the sides of his face. He loved the feeling of your hands on him. Loved the way that with each pass of your skin against his, you began to learn the feeling of him as well. With one hand still supporting himself, his other raked down your side, then up over your middle, hugging the curves of your stomach, the stretch of your ribcage, and the gentle peaks of your breasts. He stopped there, paying mindful attention according to every sound you made, every groan of approval, or whimper of satisfaction. It was all he could hear, and became his instruction on how to touch you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer between them, trying to spur on the friction that would give you relief. Joel knew the signs of your arousal clearly by now, but there was still ground for him to cover.

“Gettin’ so needy already, baby.”

His murmur against your mouth was interrupted. You whined at the loss of his lips, but were quieted in a moment when his hands trails downwards. He knelt one knee between your legs, the other still on the ground. He lifted behind your knees and gave a quick shove to drive you further up his mattress. His next move was to go for your shorts, given the fact they’d been causing him to mentally strain himself all evening.

“Gotta get these damn things off,” he said.

They went flying to the floor, and then he had to stop a minute. With your knees raised, either side of his hips, he had the most ethereal view of your soaked underwear, a dark and increasingly wet stain against the soft blue cotton. When you noticed how long he’d stopped to enjoy the scenery, you grabbed his hand on your knee.

“Joel, please-”

“I know, babygirl.”

And he didn’t make you beg for it. Not like the silly college boys would, and have in the past. He sunk down on the ground by his bed, leaning over on his elbows, hooking them under your legs again before pulling himself inward. He kissed over the wet fabric, hooking his fingers underneath it at your sides and slowly sliding them off.

Your hands found his hair and your mouth parted in a shaking breath. The slow contact he made was like sweet torture. Your skin arose goosebumps under his touch, agonizingly slow and increasingly annoying, given your absolute need for him.

“Need you… Joel I can’t- fuck.”

He kept it slow, but he licked upward, meeting your clit in devastating motions. You needed more, and as if he read your mind, his first finger was brought down and inserted to your seeping entrance. Your cries of approval met her ears like a happy melody, pushing him to go faster.

You’d already been pushing the edge, just from him touching you… but now that the contact was area specific, you weren’t sure if you could take much more. The hard feeling of him pressed against your earlier had seeded a thought that you would not be satisfied until he was inside you, heavy and full.

“Want more,” you tried to tell him, but he would not allow his feasting to be cut short. He’d made up his mind about the first time he would actually have sex with you. It wasn’t going to be rushed.

He shook his head, the sensation from the motion even more impacting. You took one hand away from his hair, fisting his sheets as tightly as you could.

“Gotta work you a little,” he pulled back to say, adding another finger to the mix, feeling you tightly around him. He climbed back up your body, hand never leaving its place between your legs. “Relax for me, yeah?”

You did your best, taking a breath and keeping your eyes trained on his, but they soon fell to his mouth, lips licked clean and the very corners covered with you. It somehow flipped a switch in you that you weren’t sure was good or not. Joel was the first man to go down on you. Joel was the first man to kiss you without immediately putting his tongue in your mouth. Joel was the first man to be so invested in your relationship, that he asked you out on a date… after you messed around. It stands to reason that Joel may be the first man you genuinely fall in love with. Not puppy love like in high school. Not conditional love based on what he can get out of it. Actual love.

You dawn on this realization quickly, still in the moment and feeling his every move, every grip of his hand or every curl of his fingers. It’s all so instant, and in your present state of mind. Like, every time he moves an inch, it somehow contributes to your relative thought.

“Joel?” you look up at him with glassed over eyes.

He pauses his movements below on account of how sincere you sound.

“Yeah?”

It’s not I love you… not yet. It’s I know you, it’s going to be you.

You reach down between your bodies, his fingers still sheathed in yours, and palm him generously. Without losing eye contact, you undo his jeans, doing your best with one hand to maneuver the waistband of his boxers and pull him from his confinement. You aren’t looking yet… but you know from the feel of his sheer size alone, you’re in for the pain of your life. It bothered you last time, the thought that he may break you on his girth, that you may feel differently or resent him from how he feels… except you don’t feel that way anymore. Because of your aforementioned realization, you now feel that though this may hurt, it would not change your desire for him. He’s not a boy who’s hurting you to get off. He cares about you.

Not just messin’ around…

“You’ve made me wait long enough,” you told him, the awestruck glaze in your eyes slowly fading as your smirk crawled over your face. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, allowing him to help you get it off. Seeing more of his skin, and feeling it against you when he settled back down was elating. It felt like the doorway to something, the hallway leading to reward.

“Baby, you’re still tight, I don’t wan-”

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

He sighed, trying to look anywhere but your eyes because dammit they were convincing.

“I hurt you, you tell me. Promise that,” he looked at you sternly, and you can’t say you’ve ever seen him so serious like this alone with you. He almost seemed, for lack of a better word, scared. Like you were a flower petal he was afraid to touch for the fear it would fall from the blossom.

“Promise.”

He nodded, smiling weakly, still unsure but willing to let you lead him blindly.

He picked you up and put you down on the proper region of the bed, your head meeting the pillows behind you. You giggled at his rapid motions to strip you of your shirt and bra next, his pent up anticipation now getting the better of him. He’d kicked off the last of his remaining clothing, looking back to you, sprawled out on his bed, waiting patiently for him.

“If we’re gonna do this, we’re doin’ it right,” he joked, crawling back over you.

He nuzzled his nose against yours, then leaned down to collect a kiss. The kiss met your lips but then parted and moved to your neck, then shoulders, licking the sweet spot in the crook between them. He traveled down your chest, his kisses never stopping, although his hands paid special attention to each peak of raised flesh.

Your noises fell on grateful ears, the appreciation for them showing in every eager kiss, every soft grope of your skin. When he reached your lower region, he kissed both thighs apart, lifting one at a time and making sure they were set aside his hips comfortably. Once done, he kissed his way back up. Tentative, and slow. Joel is often strong and silent, and in this instance, it showed immensely. The way he can easily move parts of you around without hassle, and do so without uttering a word. It was dangerously addicting, how he already knew your body so intimately after only a few experiences.

Once his lips again found yours it lasted, and lasted. The feeling of him right against you was breathtaking. No barriers, no clothing, no promises of ‘another time’ between you.

“You let me know, alright?”

You nodded, his voice had become gentler from his first worrisome words minutes ago.

He kept his eyes on you, trying to gauge your reaction moment by moment. You wrapped an arm over his shoulder, holding the hairs at the back of his neck to ground yourself. He lined himself up to you and ever so slowly began to push in, holding himself after the first sharp intake of breath through your nose.

“M’okay,” you said assuringly, the sensation dulling slightly when you focused solely on him and not his actions.

He went further, and deeper, slower than sludge but making sure you could feel every inch comfortably before moving again. You twirled his hair between your fingers, the other hand digging nails into his side. His face, eyes still focused on your expression, was becoming the product of bliss. This entire exchange, the build up, the stretching pain, and the way your lungs couldn’t seem to exhale, was all worth it… just to see this look on his face. The way he was having to fight himself to stay in the moment and not get lost in the euphoria, it was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him. When he was dazed and confused just by feeling you around him.

“You gotta breathe, baby,” he let out, trying to keep your comfort in the forefront of his mind. He took a deep inhale of his own, and when he felt you following his steady pattern he was able to relax a little more, just like you did. “Atta girl, just like that… keep doin’ that.”

He started to move, a single thrust once he could be sure that there wasn’t any stiff pain. The only sting left over was fading, the slow and measured pace he set was becoming like a lifeline. Comparable to a heartbeat. In and out, in and out, the feeling becomes more pleasurable and addictive. You need a heartbeat to live, and in this moment, you need Joel to live, his easy and gentle pace.

“S’good,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering closed and his head dropping to your neck again. “Feels so deep.”

Joel bit down on your skin, tethering himself. The praise was something he wasn’t quite used to. He’s self deprecating to a fault, but hearing the opposite from your lips, which he adores, makes him feel stronger somehow. Keeping a tether is all he can do to keep from rutting against you. He wants so badly for you to be different, to not end up just a one night stand or a friend with benefits. He wants you to feel how much he cares about you, wants to take care of you.

“Doin’ so good, baby,” he whispered, your neck absorbing most of the sound. “Taking me, so tight.”

Your muscles started contracting the moment he sped up his rhythm, only one thrust that was different from the rest. It hit you so fast, the coil in your stomach, building up and aching for relief.

“Joel… shit,” You could barely even get your words out, interrupted by a whimper of white hot euphoria. “I’m gonna…”

“I know,” he growled, his desire to rut into you slowly fading as he increased his pace to meet that carnal need. “I feel you, baby. Give it to me.”

It built only a little more, but then you couldn’t take it. It was too much, too full. The tightness in your stomach burst, letting go of every tense muscle in your body. It was so intense you practically screamed for him, his name a repetitive mantra on your tongue. Joel. Your hips jolted and writhed around, the feeling increasing with every hit against your cervix. Joel. Your walls tightened even more around him, the sting only slightly returning but in a way that made you crave it. Joel. He came right after you, unable to even try pulling out, just for how tightly you held him in. Joel…

He dropped half his weight, pulling away from your neck to kiss your lips. He needed to. It didn’t feel right to stay hidden in your neck when he had such gratification for you right now. The way you made him feel was no simple thing, and he felt you needed to be thanked for that. If a kiss was all he could give you in the moment, then so be it.

Joel…

“I’m sorry,” he let out, leaving his forehead against yours.

“For what?”

“I came in you… I didn’t ask,” he furrowed his brows, hoping you wouldn’t begrudge him too badly. He’d say he got lucky when you pulled him back down for another kiss.

“It’s okay… wanted you to,” you were still coming down from your high, possibly the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. He smiled and kissed you again, and again. He shifted the way you both laid, on his side, and brought you close to his chest.

When your breathing went back to normal, you spoke again.

“I was scared, y’know.”

He looked closely at you, unsure of what you meant and why.

“I thought you might hurt me. I didn’t care if you did, but I still thought you might,” you told him, running your fingers in circles over his skin. Though you seemed in bliss, perfectly happy, he couldn’t help but be frightened that maybe you weren’t telling him.

“Did I? Hurt you?”

“No.” you shook your head, holding a smile and making sure he saw it was genuine. “You didn’t hurt me, it was good. Really good. No other guy has ever…”

He again was confused by the trail of your voice… no guy has ever…? Oh, shit.

“No other guy’s made you come before?”

The embarrassed blush on your cheeks told him all he needed to know. You weren’t sure why it was so awkward to let him find that out, but you suddenly felt like you were more of a child, having not experienced things that he has for years before.

“No one before you… and you’ve already got four on the board,” you laughed, trying to make it feel like it wasn’t as big a deal. Like it was funny.

He narrowed his eyes, raising his head up to look at you closer.

“Ranger’s night, last week, tonight… that’s three,” he corrected, counting out on three fingers and holding them up.

“You technically weren’t there the other time,” you smirked, giggling once he looked at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Should’ve called me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, your smile still prominent and growing. “I love hearing you.”

Over his shoulder you heard his phone buzzing, once, twice, then three times. He huffed, hoping it wasn’t from someone at the work site that wasn’t able to lock up the property after reviewing.

“Hold on,” he rolled his eyes, turning just far enough to reach his jeans on the ground, pulling his phone from the pocket. He squinted against the harsh light, swiping through the message notifications that appeared when he unlocked the screen. He laughed, turning to you. “S’ your dad.”

“It’s late, I would have thought he was either drunk or asleep by now.”

“Apparently neither,” he slid his phone back on the nightstand, regaining you in his arms. “Wants to know if I’m still awake for a drink.”

You laughed, “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Not sure if you’ve heard but, you’re actually at a friend’s house till tomorrow.”

“How fun for me… so that means a guy’s night for you and my dad?” You played along with him, the sweet tone in your voice turning teasing.

“It would… too bad I’m already asleep.” He reasoned, which is probably what he would repeat to your dad tomorrow if asked.

“Damn, you old men go to bed early.”

“Hey now… let’s not go crazy.”

tags: @justanothersadperson93@moonchild-warrior@hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof@untamedheart81@just-someone-broken@joelalorian@xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin@theatrelove3000

#joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller age gap #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #pedro pascal joel miller #troy baker

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astraystayyh · 6 months

Text

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ winter falls

I'm so excited to announce this collab series with my @forlix where we'll be posting winter themed fics for each one of the boys!!!!! brainstorming these with xi was the most fun ever i hope you'll enjoy our collab (alternatively named dead dick december)

all the fics, except for Chan's, Minho’s and Han's are with a gender neutral reader.

minors & ageless blogs dni w/han’s fic as it is nsfw!

no holiday is specified by name so you can imagine whatever!

we're also opening a special taglist for the series! you can comment down here or send an ask to either me or xian to be added! (6/8 posted)

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Pieces of you ❆ bang chan @astraystayyh (8.7k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ single dad!chan. neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. [posted: 12/02/24]

In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chan and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

Something has melted ❆ lee minho @forlix

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ spy x family!au, fake dating!au, fluff

Your obnoxious coworkers never get off your ass about how single you are, and your temporary husband is too happy to make them eat their words.

Burning in the winter wind ❆ changbin @astraystayyh (4.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ (fake) enemies to lovers. hurt/comfort. college!au. [posted: 26/02/24.]

Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.

The snow falls, we fall apart ❆ hyunjin @astraystayyh (13k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ roommates to lovers. angst. hurt/comfort. slow burn. longing.

when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

(+18) Empty my mind ❆ han jisung @forlix (6.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. [posted: 06/01/24]

For the first time in a long time, Han Jisung has something to lose.

Everything has changed (besides myself) ❆ lee felix @forlix (5.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff. [posted: 09/12/2023]

You spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

Warm winter ❆ kim seungmin @forlix

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff

“i don’t deserve you,” he breathes, “but god, i want to.”

Please fall before I fall ❆ jeongin @astraystayyh (2.8k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ childhood best friends to lovers. hint of unrequited love (they're idiots) [posted: 18/01/24]

3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours. (and ended up confessing along the way)

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...titles are all inspired by han's incredible songwriting in Winter Falls, han write a happy song #challengefailed.

#stray kids x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic

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wineauntie · 4 months

Note

omggg you could you maybe do little blurbs or headcanons for quinn x single mom reader? for example how sweet of a dad figure quinn would be for evie on valentine’s day and spoiling her rotten? btw love your writing so much!!

HEADCANONS — Quinn Hughes x single mom!reader

based on this one shot

note: Oh, no need to ask twice, I love Quinn x single mom reader with my whole heart. This includes how you guys met, Quinn meeting Evie and all the cute inbetweens!

warnings: a tiny little suggestive content halfway through but nothing major- sex is implied, fem!reader, just tooth rotting fluff for the rest of it.

Quinn knew he loved you from the moment he’d met you.

You and Quinn had a meet-cute. Meaning, he physically ran into you outside a coffee shop, causing all of your coffee to spill down his front.

He remembered cursing in shock only to turn into a flustered mess when you began to apologise and offer him tissues. That drama turned into him asking to buy you another coffee to which you agreed.

You hadn’t known who Quinn was or why some people had stared as he ordered you a coffee (You 100% just assumed it was because he was attractive)

You two talked for just over an hour before you parted ways (his number securely in your pocket as you went).

And the rest is history

You went on a date with him to a restaurant downtown. During this date you brought up the fact you had a daughter and that if that was a problem, then he should leave.

Quinn stayed. To him, it didn’t matter if you had a child.

You’d left the date blushing like a school kid whose crush had admitted to liking them back.

The two of you took it slowly, but around two months into your relationship, when Quinn asked you to be his girlfriend, you knew it was time to introduce him to Evie.

Evie, who was two at the time, had no idea who the man was holding her mom’s hand. She ended up throwing her teddy at him before running straight between your legs to hide.

Quinn had brought Evie pink and purple flowers after being told they were her favourite colours.

Evie had never been given flowers and instantly began to like Quinn.

I can just imagine Quinn crouched down introducing himself and Evie giggling.

“Oh hello, I’m Quinn,”

“Win.”

You’d stifle a laugh at Evie’s attempt to say his name.

“Yeah, Quinn!”

Quinn would be so unphased by Evie being unable to say his name, even when Evie began to call him Winnie, he secretly loved it.

Quinn became a constant in you and Evie’s life. He’d come to see you and Evie almost every day, or at least as much as his schedule would let him.

Evie would be obsessed with him, and Quinn? Oh, he adored being around you and her.

Evie would babble nonsensical words mixed with a few normal words and he’d nod and talk back to her, holding a conversation.

And don’t even think Quinn is above having tea parties with Evie because he is the one who suggests them.

I imagine you running to collect the post from your building's postbox only to come back and hear giggling from the living room.

You would find Quinn sitting cross-legged on the floor with a tiara and a sparkly pink cape opposite Evie in a princess dress and obnoxiously large sunglasses.

You had to take a picture before entering and joining them. That picture was your lock screen for so long.

Quinn more often than not spent the night at your apartment.

You’d given up a few drawers so that he could keep some things in your place.

It was easier to meet in your apartment because all of Evie’s things were there but the times you and Evie went to his apartment? those were like going on holidays for Evie.

Quinn’s apartment was considerably bigger than yours and when he’d begun to date you, he changed one of his two guest rooms into a room for Evie.

So imagine your surprise when you brought Evie over for the first time and found an entire princess-themed room filled with toys just for Evie.

You’d cried and Quinn had nervously scratched his head until you’d hugged him and thanked him for being so kind.

Evie had loved her room and begged you to stay over more.

And so when Quinn had asked you to move in with him a few months later, you’d jumped at the opportunity.

Quinn had surprised you with over fifty bundles of your favourite flowers as a ‘welcome home’ gift.

Your parents offered to watch Evie overnight to allow you and Quinn time to sort out the apartment.

Let’s just say the two of you christened the house…in multiple places…multiple times.

You’d curled up that night beside Quinn that night and had basked in the glow of your new home.

You’d already spent a Valentine’s Day with Quinn but at that stage, he hadn’t met Evie yet.

On Valentine’s morning, Quinn woke up at eight o’clock to make you and Evie a special breakfast— pancakes with a variety of toppings.

He’d gently woken up Evie and carried her into your room, placing her gently beside you. You’d barely stirred as Quinn pressed a loving kiss to your forehead whilst Evie cuddled close to your side.

He returned ten minutes later with breakfast, to which Evie and you had laughed and dragged him down into a one-handed hug.

He had sat down on the end of the bed and ate with the two of you, his eyes gleaming as the two of you enjoyed the food. (He’s an acts of service kind of guy and, hell, moments like those made his heart swell).

After the three of you had gotten ready, Quinn surprised you both with flowers. He was taking you out for dinner that night and in order to lessen Evie’s fear of missing out, he’d bought her a few gifts.

“It’s a bracelet,”

“That’s my name!”

You’d never forget how Evie beamed at the silver as Quinn clasped it onto her little wrist.

“And these are so you can come onto the ice with me,”

Quinn had bought her tiny black skates with pink lining, specifically for teaching Evie to skate as she’d begged him to for so many weeks.

Evie had been so overwhelmed by glee that she’d burst with excitement and lunged toward Quinn for a hug.

Quinn really is the best dad figure for Evie. He cares for her so wholeheartedly and so unwaveringly.

This man is so protective over her and you, it’s ridiculous.

Evie would come home with you from doing an odd shop and tell Quinn all about how some man was talking to you– he’d been flirting and you’d rejected all advances.

“And I throw bag of pasta at him, Winnie!”

“Atta girl! Good job!”

The two of them would high-five before Quinn would grab Evie and jostle her around as she laughed.

Quinn would be so protective over Evie in a way that made your heart so full.

Evie would come skipping home one day claiming that she and Tommy from school were married.

Quinn would immediately spring into dad mode and begin questioning who this boy was, what was his full name, where is he from, what’s his parents’ names, etc.

You would laugh off this protectiveness as Quinn stubbornly pouted at the lack of responses from Evie.

Quinn had gone to every parent-teacher conference with you, every recital or school event and every career day.

In fact, Evie became one of the most popular people in class when they found out that her ‘Q’ was a famous hockey player.

(Evie had begun to reference Quinn as her ‘Q’ since she was able to pronounce them at three. She knew Quinn wasn’t her dad but her 'Q' was basically the same.)

She began calling him dad when she was four and Quinn melted. You were overjoyed that your daughter had someone other than you to trust and love like a parent.

Evie asks Quinn why he always has ‘boring’ colours on his hockey stick, so he always wraps one stripe of pink tape around it in honour of Evie. (Then another stripe the same colour as your eyes just above it.)

When you’d brought Evie to her first hockey game, Quinn had gotten her a custom ‘Winnie, 43’ jersey. He’d also given you a Hughes 43 jersey, which he all but demanded you two wear to your first game.

Quinn had scored two goals that evening and dedicated both goals to his girls up in the box.

You and Evie had cheered so loudly for him and after the game, the three of you had headed home and celebrated with a movie night.

All in all, Quinn loves the little family he found and you guys love him just as much.

As you might be able to tell, I am OBSESSED with father figure! Quinn. I love him too much and would be more than willing to turn this into a series, I can’t lie <333

#wineauntie #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #hughes brothers x reader #nhl x reader #i love quinn hughes what a man #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes #father figure!quinn hughes #x reader #quinn hughes x single mom!reader #family is family universe

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dixons-sunshine · 24 days

Note

Hey!! I really REALLY love your girl dad Daryl series and I thought maybe I could request something :) Imagine Daryl building a doll house or something (maybe a cute little mini motorcycle) for his daughter I can totally see him doing something like that it’s all I can think about when I see this picture. He would totally get the materials from one of his supply runs because I headcanon that everytime he brings something for his daughter (like a doll or something)

His Motorcycle Princess | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When his daughter was born, Daryl swore to himself that he'd do everything in his power to ensure that she remained happy at all costs. So when she asked for her very own motorcycle, who was he to deny her that?

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc (the bridge exploding doesn't happen, so Daryl never goes looking for Rick and he's happily living in Alexandria).

Warnings: Swearing, slight suggestive talk.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: Okay but why can't Daryl be the father of my future kids? He'd be the best dad ever. All jokes aside, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, may I ask what the fuck that is?” you asked in surprise at at the sight before you, folding your arms over your chest.

Daryl looked up from his workbench, his ocean coloured eyes meeting your eyes before glancing back down at the big pink object in front of him. “S'a toy bike,” he stated plainly, patting the toy for added effect.

“Okay,” you drawled, nodding your head slowly. “But... Why?”

“S'fer Hazel,” he explained, picking up a screwdriver and resuming his task of assembling the toy motorcycle. “She asked fer a bike like mine, but obviously I ain't 'bout to assemble a real one fer a five year old, so I got this instead.”

You walked down the steps into the garage and walked over to your husband, standing slightly behind him as you watched him tighten the screws of the toy. “Where'd you even get this?”

“I was lucky 'nough to find a toy store tha' was left relatively untouched. Found this hidin' behind one of the shelves,” he explained, glancing over to you and nervously gulping at the close proximity. It amazed him that even after so many years together, you still managed to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“Aah, okay,” you nodded, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hazel is gonna freak out over this. This is gonna be her new favourite thing in the world.”

“Ya really think so?” Daryl asked, looking at you hopefully.

You smiled softly at him. There was lot of things people could say about the archer. People who didn't know him personally would call him rude, obnoxious and cold. Those who knew better would call him loyal, determined and caring. When it came to you, there was a lot you could say about your beautiful husband. He was kind, caring, loving, considerate, observant, and so much more. And you could also proudly say that Daryl was an amazing dad. Nobody was perfect and the archer had his moments that he wasn't proud of, but all in all, there was no denying that Daryl would do anything for your daughter.

“I know she'll love it,” you reassured him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You could bring her a painted rock and she'd love it. As long as it's from you, she doesn't care.”

“Nah, she hated tha' bunny I brought back fer her,” he replied, closing his eyes at the warm, soft feeling of you pressed against his back.

“It's only because it was covered in walker blood,” you explained. “After I washed it, she wouldn't let the thing go.”

Daryl couldn't deny that. The aforementioned toy had been a proud edition to Hazel's stuffed animal collection for two years at that point. She loved that bunny more than anything, favouring it to join her when she played tea parties with you and Daryl. It made the archer's heart swell with love, just knowing that his daughter appreciated what he did for her made everything worth it. All the battles he fought, all the blood that was shed, it was all worth it in the end. His wife and his daughter were safe, and he'd never been happier in his life than he was in those moments in the small home you shared in Alexandria.

With you still firmly pressed against his back, he got back to work. The toy was almost done; he only had a few finishing touches he had to do. Admittedly, it was a little harder to do so with you pressed against him from behind, but he refused to ask you to move. He'd much rather work on the toy for a few extra minutes than lose the comfort your mere touch brought him.

You watched his hands intently, your mind unwillingly wandering to a place that wasn't needed at that moment. However, you couldn't help it, the knowledge of what those hardworking hands could do in other activities taking over your senses.

“You know, this gives me deja vu,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah? How so?” Daryl asked, tightening the last screw into the toy.

“Remember back when you were building your own bike five years ago?” you asked, continuing when he nodded. “Seeing you hard at work, doing something you were skilled at really did something to me. It was because you were building your bike that we even have a kid at all now. And now you're building a motorcycle for our kid.”

Daryl chuckled at the memory. “Never knew grease could turn ya on like tha' until then.”

“When it's on my handsome husband's hands? You best believe it does.”

Daryl turned around and wrapped his arms around you, staring down at you lovingly. “And now we have our own kid.”

“Our own little family,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, peach.”

“Mama! Daddy!”

Before Daryl could lean down and capture your lips in his for a kiss, your daughter bounded down the steps. The two of you sent each other an amused look, reluctantly pulling apart. Hazel came over to Daryl and held her hands up in a silent plea to be picked up, and the archer complied.

“Hey there, Hazelnut,” Daryl greeted her with a fond smile, placing a light kiss to the top of her head.

“Hi, Daddy,” she giggled, sending a wave at you. “Hi, Mama!”

“Hi, Baby,” you chuckled, walking over to rub her hair affectionately. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Yeah! I'm ready to play now!” she exclaimed happily, a toothy smile on display.

“Well, how 'bout ya and I race our bikes?” Daryl questioned, capturing Hazel's attention.

“But Daddy, only you have a bike.”

“Not anymore,” you said in a playful tone, sharing an excited glance with the archer. “Daddy got you something.”

Daryl turned around with her in his arms and showed her the bright pink toy motorcycle. Hazel let out a surprised gasp before laughing in excitement, throwing her arms around Daryl's neck and hugging him as tightly as she could.

“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed in excitement.

Daryl chuckled fondly and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Yer welcome, Hazelnut.”

“Now I can be like you!” she giggled, wiggling slightly to be put down. When she was, she ran over to the workbench and stared in awe at the toy.

“Yeah,” you agreed, walking over to her to ensure she didn't accidentally hurt herself with the tools that were still on the workbench. “You just need your own crossbow now.”

Hazel gasped in delight and turned to Daryl. “Daddy, can I get a crossbow?”

“'Course ya can. How else would ya help me on my hunts?”

“Yay!” Hazel happily clapped her hands. “Mama, I'm getting a crossbow!”

Daryl smiled and walked over to the two of you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and playfully ruffling Hazel's hair. He chuckled at the giggle she let out, feeling content and comfortable as he listened to Hazel's babbling as she regarded over all the places she would go with her very own motorcycle, even to the moon. There was nothing better in his life than moments like these. This was what he fought for. And he would do it all over again if it meant keeping the two most important people in his life safe.

Because without you, his beautiful wife, and Hazel, your perfect daughter, his life would never be the same.

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virtualvault · 3 months

Text

The Royal Treatment

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

Summary: Reluctant to join the festivities at May’s birthday party, things start looking up for Miguel when he’s able to get the Princess Peter hired alone in the bathroom.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, teasing, begging, oral (f receiving),fingering, unprotected p in v, pet names ( princess, your highness), fingering, praise, dirty talk, choking, handjob, cum swallowing. Reader is referred to as small/ short in comparison to Miguel and he’s able to pick reader up, but in my head everyone is small in comparison to him so it isn’t necessarily a defining characteristic of reader.

W/C: 3.7k

A/N: First Miguel fic yayy. This has been in my drafts for forever and I finally got the motivation to flesh it out. I had a lot of fun with it. Enjoy :)

Miguel was being his normal grumpy self, standing in the corner of the party while everyone socializes loudly around him. He quickly relocates to the backyard where he can at least get some fresh air and a little space. But all too soon everyone is making their way to the yard as well for the upcoming attraction that, unbeknownst to Miguel, would quickly pull him out of his funk.

It’s May's birthday and while Miguel adores her, the snotty kids and loud parents crowding around him make him wish he was anywhere else. Despite his natural instincts to flee, he decides to stay. He’d really love to see the look on May’s face when she opens his gift.

While he's silently cursing the obnoxious children running past, you float into the backyard, and he’s glad he held out. And you truly did float. The shiny tiara and beautiful gown almost made him believe you were actual royalty. He's so entranced he doesn't even notice the screeching children as they flock around you, oohing and aahing at your costume. May is the first to reach you and you curtsey to her, making her giggle.

The first time you speak, his breath catches in his throat. Your voice has this beautiful sing-songy tone. It's enchanting, capturing the attention of not only the kids but the adults as well. Your gentle manner and honeyed tone hypnotize Miguel and he can’t look away. You’re clearly dedicated to your craft, carrying yourself with a level of grace befitting a real princess. The kids love it, but Miguel is the most enthralled; his eyes never leave you. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the other guests, you surely would notice him staring you down.

He roams the perimeter of the group for the duration of your 'act', planning to just admire you from afar. But when his eyes finally meet yours when you head inside with Peter to grab a well-earned drink and your check, he hastily follows. He doesn’t really have a plan he just know he needs to at least speak with you.

You’re standing in the kitchen sipping your water as Peter is telling you how satisfied he is with your service. He says he needs to get back to his daughter and Miguel conveniently swoops in and offers to show you out. Peter thanks him and retreats back to the yard.

“That’s a beautiful costume” Miguel comments, hungrily eyeing your body under the guise of simply admiring your attire. You reply with a quick, 'thank you' and he expected you to drop the princess act but your voice still holds that dulcet tone that has his pants tightening. It’s not as exaggerated, seeing as you’re not trying to fool any children, but just as tantalizing.

Unbeknownst to Miguel, you had felt his eyes on you earlier but did everything you could to keep your focus on the other guests. You take your job very seriously, but his intense gaze made it difficult. So, when you were escorted inside you had to gulp down your water and try to regain your bearings.

When you first spotted him, his tall imposing frame had you a bit intimidated, yet had your mind reeling with thoughts of what he could do to you. He can make anyone feel small and you are no exception. Your mind quickly conjured up the thought of him having you caged in against your bed, pressing you firmly to the mattress as he thrusts deep inside you. You had to shake yourself out of the fantasy quickly to turn your focus back to the crowd.

When he steps into the kitchen, you're on edge again, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts. You try your best not to just stand there, mouth agape and drooling at him, making it obvious you want him to defile you. You don't know what's gotten into you. It’s not that you never get these kinds of thoughts, but this level of intensity and depravity feels new.

He’s very intriguing, but you can’t find the courage to look him in the eyes. While he's scanning your frame, you take a deep breath and try to steady the quiver in your voice. “Um, I need to change. I've got kind of a far drive. Can you show me where the bathroom is?” you ask, impressed you formed a coherent sentence, even going so far as to finally meet his gaze.

“Oh, yeah. Right this way.” he guides you up the stairs to the guest bathroom at the end of the hall.

“I'll just wait out here. This house is a maze, I doubt you’d be able to find your way out.” he offers, hoping to spend just a little more time with you. It may be a little inappropriate but he might just ask for your number. You nod and slip into the bathroom.

As you go to pull your clothes out of your bag, you’re hit with a sudden realization that has you stopping in your tracks. You had your roommate help you zip up your dress. How are you supposed to get out of it on your own? You frantically reach behind you to try to get a grasp on the zipper. You don't even get close. Left with only one option, you shuffle to the door, and are welcomed with a slightly confused look from the man in front of you. You clearly hadn’t changed yet and he looks at you, brow raised.

“Um…can you…uh… undress me?” you sputter, realizing how that sounded, and frantically try to correct yourself.

“I mean unzip! I…I can’t reach the zipper, can you help? Please?” a small smile appears on his face at your flustered state.

“Of course, your highness.” He playfully bows to you, making you giggle. Still standing in the doorway, you turn around and he reaches for the zipper. He unzips it slowly and can’t help but drag the back of his finger along your skin on the way down. You let out a small gasp as you feel a tingle spread across your skin. He finishes, but doesn’t step back.

“It’s a shame, you really do look pretty in this dress. I’m sure you look even better with it off, but the whole princess thing really suits you.” he says lowly, and you feel his breath fan against your neck.

"Do you have anyone taking care of you like one?” his question flusters you so you simply shake your head.

“No? Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. Why don’t you let me show you how a princess deserves to be treated. Hm?” the rasp in his voice has your thighs clenching together and without even thinking you squeak out, “Yes, please.”

You mentally scold yourself for giving in to a complete stranger so quickly, but no part of you wants to turn down the offer. He's obviously delighted and you feel him smile against your skin as he places his lips on your shoulder. He surprises you when he zips your dress back up, seeing as you’re ready for him to tear it off you.

He guides you back into the bathroom and shuts the door, making sure to lock it. Then, he pushes you gently against the counter, having you face the mirror, and proceeds to pull the sleeves down over your shoulders, planting kisses from one side to the other.

"Aren’t you going to take it off?" you ask sounding slightly confused and then clamp your mouth shut, not wanting to sound impatient.

Miguel chuckles softly, enjoying your eagerness. "Next time." he replies. "You just look so delicious in this pretty little dress of yours."

He sucks in a deep breath as he peers at your body in the mirror, taking in your silk clad form. Then he flicks his gaze to your parted lips. You're watching him with baited breath, anxiously waiting for his hands to finally start roaming your body. They currently sit firmly planted on your waist and he can tell you're wanting more. He can’t help but toy with you, though. There’s part of him that’s desperate to give you what he knows you want but there’s another part of him that wants to hear you ask or, preferably, beg for it. The latter part wins and his hand moves to grab the length of your dress, rubbing the fabric in between his fingers. You immediately miss the warmth of his hands, something you could feel even through the fabric of the dress.

“The whole time you were putting on your little show all I could think about was lifting up the back of this gown and getting a taste of what’s underneath.” he remarks. You noticeably shiver at the feeling of his lips moving against your ear as he speaks with a low, gravelly voice. Every time he talks you can feel the rumble in his chest, which is pressed firmly against your back. You can also feel his impressive length against your backside that has been rock hard the moment he pressed it against you. All of these things in combination with one another are overwhelming your senses and anticipation pulses through you. You need him. Now.

With desperation clear in your voice, you blurt out, “Please, touch me.”

He gazes at you with a dark look in his eyes and an amused expression on his face.

“I need more.” you add. Your eyes leave his in the mirror to turn over your shoulder and look at him directly. Instead of pressing his lips to yours like he’s so tempted to do, he lets you continue.

“You said you wanted a taste, didn’t you?” you tug on his wrist, urging him to move it lower. He decides he’s teased you long enough. He presses you harder into the counter before moving away and throwing up your dress, handing the fabric to you.

“Hold this for me, princess.” you grab at the fabric although your reaction was a little delayed as the pet name has pleasure shooting straight to your core.

He caresses softly up and down your thighs, and starts kneading your cheeks. The gentleness lasts only a few seconds and you let out a gasp as he rips your pantyhose. As he kneels behind you, he lets out an audible groan. You assume it’s because he spotted the wet patch on your underwear. It must be pretty prominent considering you’ve been dripping wet the moment you saw him. Before you know it, he rips those as well.

With your arousal now fully exposed you can feel his breath wafting over your wet sex, and you shiver at the sensation. He starts teasingly sucking at your folds one at a time, placing one soft kiss to your clit before dipping his tongue into your entrance. He eats you out like he's starving and your legs shake as his tongue dances against your walls.

After exploring your heat thoroughly, he runs his tongue from your entrance to your clit, back and forth, sucking on it gently each time he reaches it. As the rhythm gets faster and faster, so does your breathing. Your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip to try to stifle your moans, not wanting anyone to overhear. What would the parents say if the party princess was upstairs getting eaten out in a frenzy by a man she just met. You push those worries aside as the pleasure builds. You bring the fabric in your left hand and join it with the right, then reach back and grab onto his hair and start gently pushing his face further into you, urging him on.

He easily brings you to the edge with his movements but before you can reach your release, he pulls his face from you. You whine, but the disappointment quickly fades as your excitement over the prospect of him being inside of you grows. Once he's upright, you attempt to face him, wanting to go down on him too. He senses your intentions but holds you in place against the counter.

“I’m meant to kneel to the princess, not the other way around.” he playfully whispers in your ear. He appreciates your enthusiasm but he's fine saving that for another time. He's desperate to be inside you.

He bends you over and you place your hands against the counter to steady yourself. He pushes your knees apart and wedges himself between your thighs, pulling your hips back to meet his bulge and can’t help but rub himself against you. The fabric adds a wonderful friction and you mewl in response.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, then proceeds to run his fingers through your folds before dipping them into your entrance. You're soaking wet but he takes a few seconds to work you open. He knows how big he is and wants to make sure you're ready to take every inch of him. When he knows you're ready, he pulls his fingers away and releases his aching erection from his pants. He immediately begins stroking up and don’t his shaft, coating himself in your arousal.

Blinded by your desperation for him, you hadn’t really thought about his size being a problem, until you feel him run his length through your folds. You can feel just how big he is and you take a deep breath to calm your nerves. He presses into you slowly, and the head of his dick already feels impossibly huge. But as he slides in, you stretch and melt around him. He lets out a throaty moan at the way your walls grip him.

You hiss at the intrusion, but the slight burn fades quickly as his shallow thrusts push deeper and deeper. As he gains more momentum, he's pushing your stomach against the counter and you feel yourself being pushed up onto your tippy toes. He notices and takes one of your legs and sets your knee up onto the counter and the other is left dangling as he supports your upper body. His strength to support all of you is impressive, but not surprising.

He sets one arm against your waist and tries grabbing at your chest with the other, but can’t get a good grip through your dress. So, he opts for your throat instead. His grip is loose, just to help stabilize you, but you hum in approval and you lean against him. You lift your head up to look at him through the mirror.

"Harder." you plead and grab his wrist, prompting him to tighten his grip. He growls at the pleading look in your eyes and desperate tone in your voice and squeezes firmly, adding a delicious pressure to the sides of your throat. You hear his deep breaths and grunts in your ear as he quickens his pace and the sounds stoke the warmth in your belly.

This new angle has him brushing up against that tender spot inside of you and you know if he keeps going like this you’re going to cum. He knows this too. He can tell just by the look on your face and feels you clench even harder around him when he brings his hand down to your slippery, throbbing nub and begins working it.

Your mouth falls open into a silent scream at the added stimulation and Miguel glances back up to take in the magnificent view in front of him. Your tiara is askew, slipping slightly off your head, and your lips are bitten from how you've been holding them between your teeth, trying to keep quiet.

“Look at you.” He says breathily, leaning down to kiss up the side of your neck.

“So pretty. Who’s my pretty princess?” he asks, his dark eyes meeting yours. You let out a pathetic whine and turn your head away. His words send a shiver up your spine, but are unable to hold his gaze, suddenly feeling bashful at the praise. He notices, but continues.

“Hm? Who’s my pretty princess?” his hand leaves your throat to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. He slows his thrusts now to a maddeningly slow pace, awaiting your answer.

“I am.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. He caresses your jaw with his thumb, but continues looking at you expectantly. It takes you a second to figure out what he wants, but eventually the realization hits you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

Now matching the intensity of his gaze, you reply “I'm your pretty princess.” His eyes flutter closed at your response. His hips stutter, then stop completely and he breaths in deeply, obviously trying to regain some composure.

Your lips curl up into a small smile at his reaction. His words have been flustering you since the moment he spoke. They've had you falling apart on his dick as he whispers filth into your ear while he takes you from behind. But now you get to see your words have the same effect on him, and a wave of confidence surges through you.

When he finally opens his eyes, he has this look in his eyes, like he wants to devour you, and it spurs you on. You begin grinding yourself down onto him, fucking yourself back and forth on his dick as he stands behind you and he sees there's a playful smirk plastered on your face. A growl rumbles form his chest and he returns his hand to your throat.

Momentarily overcome with the way your hips meet his and the drag of your wet, warm heat, his eyes fall closed again. He's tempted to let you continue, but the desire to see you cum, feel your walls spasm around him, has eyes snapping open. Without warning, he starts fucking you at the unrelenting pace he set earlier.

He knocks the smirk right off your face and you cry out as he pounds into you, his hand returning to your clit. Before you know it, you feel that familiar pressure building in your core, your breaths come in jagged gasps now, and he knows you're close.

“I wanna feel it. Come on, give it to me.” he demands. He swipes faster at your clit you let out a squeak before you’re tumbling over the edge. Your body goes rigid against him as the waves of pleasure crash through you. You try to cover your mouth in an attempt to dampen the embarrassingly loud moans he’s pulling from you, but he pushes your hand away, wanting to hear every sound that falls from your lips.

As the aftershocks rip through you, his fingers leave your clit to grip the counter. He feels you pulsating and squeezing around him and it’s drawing him closer to his own release. His brows furrow and he's panting in your ear. You're a bit dazed from your climax, but you see the look on his face and the boldness from earlier takes over.

Before you can stop yourself, you pull his face to yours and tease, “Is princess gonna make you come?”

The noise that pulls from him is one that Miguel's never heard himself make, a mixture between a whine and a groan. His hips stutter and you hear him babble, “pretty pretty pretty” as he kisses the side of your face, down your neck.

A few moments later he’s pulling out and preparing to cum over your ass; before he can you're spinning around and falling to your knees. You don't know what's gotten into you, but you’ll attribute your brazenness to the praise he was just singing to you in combination with your post orgasm haze. You're looking up at him through your lashes and you grab him at the base, giving his dick quick, wet strokes.

You look up at him and his eyes are on you, enjoying the view from above. His lips part and he sucks in shallow breaths at the way you're cradling his balls while your arousal allows your hand to glide up and down his shaft with ease.

You smile up at him and purr, “Make me prettier.” You lean your head back, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue, ready to feel his warmth spread across your skin.

"Oh fuck." he moans, feeling his balls tighten in response.

His body tenses, blood pumping hot, and with a deep groan erupting from his chest, he spurts his seed over you. You hum as you swallow and the tangy taste goes down surprisingly smooth. He looks down at you, admiring the way your tongue swipes the corners of your mouth, not letting one drop go to waste.

When he recovers, he wets the hand towel and cleans off the rest from your face. His movements are gentle, contrasting his previous actions, and he smiles sweetly down at you.

"All clean, your highness." he says softly. He sticks out his hand and helps you to your feet.

“I guess I better actually help you out of this, now.” he chuckles and unzips the dress, resisting the urge to pull it off you and drag you to one of the bedrooms for round two. But he needs to get back to the party before someone comes looking.

"Thank you.” you say over your shoulder and subconsciously lean into him. He kisses you quickly, yet deeply, before excusing himself to the hall to let you get dressed.

As he walks you out, you exchange numbers. When you finally reach the door, he finds himself struggling to pull his hand from the small of your back, not wanting to see you go.

“Thanks for all your help.” you say with a wink. You stand up on your toes and pull down to you for one last kiss. Before you pull away, he feels you slip something into his pocket. As you make your way back to your car, he slips his hand into his pocket, chuckling and shaking his head as his fingers feel the familiar lace material of your underwear that he ripped off you earlier. As he thumbs the fabric, he's already thinking about getting to pull them off you again.

#miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fandom

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forlix · 6 months

Text

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

— eight winter-themed fics for each member of stray kids written by myself (@forlix) and my sahar (@astraystayyh)! alternatively titled dead dick december lmfaooo

— important notes :

6/8 completed; last updated 3/19/24

no specific holidays are mentioned by name

gendered pronouns used only in chan's, minho's, and han's fics

minors & ageless blogs please dni w/ han's fic as it is nsfw

fics will be posted between dec. 2023 and mar. 2024

. . . also, we will be opening a taglist for this series! send me or sahar an ask or reply to either of our masterlists if you'd like to be added ♡ (minors and ageless blogs will not be tagged in han's)

pieces of you・bang chan・@astraystayyh・8.7k ⤷ single dad!chan, neighbors!au, fluff, angst, slow burn. posted 2/12/24.

in which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. alternatively, chan and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's suddenly no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

something has melted・lee minho・@forlix ⤷ spy x family!au, fake dating!au, fluff

your obnoxious coworkers never get off your ass about how single you are, and your temporary husband is too happy to make them eat their words.

burning in the winter wind・seo changbin・@astraystayyh・4.4k ⤷ (fake) enemies to lovers, college!au, hurt/comfort. posted 2/26/24.

sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. especially when seo changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you—the one man you can never get a read on.

the snow falls, we fall apart・hwang hyunjin・@astraystayyh ⤷ roommates!au, friends to lovers, slow burn, hurt/comfort. posted 3/19/24.

when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

(18+) empty my mind・han jisung・@forlix・6.4k ⤷ friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. posted 1/6/24.

stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

everything has changed (besides myself)・lee felix・@forlix・5.4k ⤷ babysitter!au, exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. posted 12/9/23.

you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

warm winter・kim seungmin・@forlix ⤷ established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff

"i don't deserve you," he breathes, "but god, i want to."

please fall before i fall・yang jeongin・@astraystayyh・2.8k ⤷ childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, hint of unrequited love (they're idiots). posted 1/18/24.

three times you saved jeongin's ass and the one time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way).

#thank you to the best songwriter of our generation (aka han jisung) for these titles #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #*writing #SO EXCITED FOR THIS :")

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kurogxrix · 1 year

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Ummm….this is my first time doing this but Is there any chance I can please request a ao’nung x dreamwalker shyreader, he’s deeply in love with her despite they’re already together. Like the whole and every clan especially the children adore her. Bonus: The sullys are surprised theirs a dreamwalker at the meytikayna clan, pretty cute that Jake and Neytiri sees themselves in ao’nung and her 💙💙💙

No Cap

Ao’nung x Metkayina!Avatar!reader

The strangers' arrivals in Awa’atlu didn't take much to shake confusion and interest within the Metkayina clan. A crowd of aqua skinned na’vis circled the omaticaya family as they dismounted their Ikrans, Toruk Makto and his family themselves presenting themselves before the people.

Pushing their way through the crowd, Ao’nung and Rotxo arrived on scene. The duo was like salt and pepper, never one without the other. The fierce looks on their faces didn’t go unnoticed by the two Sully boys that greeted them, before it switched to a teasing one. God, it was bad already that everyone was staring at them like they were a bunch of forest freaks, and now the Olo’eyktan’s son was making fun of them too?

Everything went quiet in Lo’ak’s head when he caught a glimpse of a certain Metkayina girl emerging from the water. She was beautiful, unlike any girl that he had ever seen before in the forest. Neteyam observed his brother before turning his head towards Tsireya, noticing another girl following close after. Gracefully as ever, Tsireya and you exited the waters that you loved so much to check an eye out on the large crowd of na’vis. Though you couldn’t yet feel the obnoxious stares of the strangers on you and your best friend, Ao’nung surely had.

His nose bridge creased as the Sully boy’s eyes strayed on you for too long, but he refrained himself from baring his teeth just yet. Neteyam quickly looked away from you, not wanting to get on the boy’s bad side even more than he and his family already were. You yelped once you came close enough to Ao’nung, feeling him pull you by the arm and onto his side.

Though Rotxo’s and Ao’nung’s name calling season of the two Sully brothers came to end due to Tsireya’s scolding. Their parents soon followed shortly on their respective skimwings. You swatted a hand at Ao’nung when he made fun of the family for flinching when the Olo’eyktan flew his creature above their heads, landing in the waters beside you all. Your boyfriend only playfully bared his teeth at you, chomping down onto nothing as it made a loud resonating sound.

Your attention had been stolen away from Ao’nung by none other than his mother, the Tsahik Ronal. You winced internally as you knew that this poor family was about to pass through hell and back under the judgement of the Tsahik, because you had been there at first. You remember your arrival at Awa’atlu like no other, mostly due to the fact that Ronal had quite literally held you under the sharp blade of her spear.

It was scary, if not terrifying as the many eyes of the reef na’vi turnt towards you in hatred. Though the Metkayina had never faced the ruthless face of human destruction, stories from around the globe spread faster than ever. It took you long for you to stand where you now stood, but you were proud of yourself for getting through it.

You heard Tsireya sigh from besides you as she watched her mother forcefully grasp the hand of the eldest daughter, bringing it up to her face for a better look. Though the crowd of reed na’vi didn’t shake until she moved towards the son.

“These children are not even true na’vi, they have demon blood!” you felt your heart stop as Ronal lifted the youngest son’s hand up for the whole village to see, and their noises of displeasures made you cave into yourself. You looked down at the palms of your hands shamefully, your ears stuck to your skull.

Though it doesn’t even take a minute for Ao’nung to notice your pity-party. He moved his 4 fingered hand to hold onto your 5 fingered one, his thumb rubbing circles over your back hand. You couldn’t stand to look up at him and into those awaiting eyes, because you knew that he’d just read you more than he already had. Ao’nung knew the ways into your heart way too well, and sometimes you cursed him internally for being such a good people-reader.

It was maybe also because you were too shy to meet his flaming gaze, but that’s a story for another time. A mere look from the boy was enough to stir deep feelings inside of your stomach, and it was the last thing that you needed for now as you watched the poor family with pity. You could only pray that Ronal would spare them her sympathy.

You knew that the clan loved you, that they accepted you as one of their own. After all, whether they wanted it or not, your boyfriend was the chief’s son. You knew that somewhat, this feeling of insecurity was stupid, because the Metkayina didn’t treat you as an outcast or as a reject. On the contrary, they trusted you with their children, which was already one big step in acceptance.

The children loved you, begged for you to come play with them everytime that you were spared from training. Yet, as you watched the omaticaya children being shamed for something that you relate to, you couldn’t help the feeling of gnawing pain in your chest. What was so different between you and them? For all you knew, you were closer to those ‘demons’ than they actually were, because at the end of the day, you were still human.

You still needed to feed and bathe your human body as your avatar slept comfortably at night. You still needed an exopack when you were not in your na’vi body, and for all you knew, these children didn’t.

You were cut off from your self-deprecating thoughts at the booming sound of Tonowari’s voice. He told the village to treat the Sullies well, to welcome them into their home land asif it were their own. Your heart visibly relaxed at the sound of it, and you knew that the distressed family would have a roof above their heads tonight and a warm meal to feed their stomachs.

“My son Ao’nung, my daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do.” you felt your boyfriend’s hand being ripped away from yours as he moved before his father, trying to protest his way out of it. Though it was short lived as he was roughly scolded by Tonowari.

“Their dear friends, Rotxo and Y/N will assist them with making you feel at home.” Everyone turnt to look at the both of you, and you coward under their eyes. It didn’t help that their mother looked all intimidating and irritated. You watched anxiously as Neytiri’s eyes widened subtly, and you could obviously see that she was gazing above your eyes.

God how stupid were you to believe that they wouldn’t catch up to you in mere seconds. After all, her husband was an ex dreamwalker, and some of her children had inherited his odd traits. How could she not notice the weird hairs upon your brow bones, or the extra finger that you shared in common with her children. You soon curled into yourself as you realised that it was not only Neytiri that was staring rudely, but quite literally the whole strange family.

Although you could understand where it was coming from, because you were pretty sure that your program had not been informed to all sectors of the main lab. Words must’ve never gotten through Jake Sully’s ears, because they were visibly raised in shock. He must’ve only been aware of omaticaya avatars around, you must have been the first Metkayina dreamwalker to ever be programmed.

“Quit staring, more moving!” your boyfriend came to the rescue as his words shook the omaticaya family out of their staring trance. Ronal smiled proudly from the sidelines as she watched her son stand up to those Sullies, mostly because of her little hissing altercation with Neytiri earlier.

You appreciated the attention being short lived as the family thanked the whole of you, missing no time in following Tsireya to their new home. God you could’ve pounced on your boyfriend on the spot for saving you from their prying eyes, but that wouldn’t make a good image of you infront of his mother now would it.

“Cmon, let’s go help them settle. I’m sure that with arms this thin, they could use your help.” you tried to motivate him, holding softly onto his forearm as you turned him back to look at you. Your voice was low but you watched as his ears raised at your comment, clearly feeding at his ego as you compared him to the omaticaya boys. He smirked as he dragged you by the arm again, making you grin as you watched that smile rise on his face again.

His thick tail swooshed around the place, knocking your lower back as you both laughed it off. You bounced on the stretchy material of the bridge, hopping next to your boyfriend with a few woven bags upon your shoulders.

“You good?” you heard the deep voice of your boyfriend next to you, turning your head around to be met with the beautiful sight of the bonfire kissing his skin. The orange hue enveloped his skin in a beautiful mix of colours, and you felt yourself going shy under his stare.

Ao’nung looked down at your chest to see a child sleeping comfortably on you. More specifically, the youngest son of Ayka, a close friend of yours. He admired the way the boy fit perfectly into your arms, before swivelling his eyes back to you. Though this time you were not looking at him like you previously was, instead you were staring at the bonfire with that frown that he hated so much sprawled upon your face.

“Don’t take what my mother has said to heart, y’know she doesn’t mean it.” His hand found yours alongside the back of the sleeping child, his hand visibly bigger than yours. Though you find it hard to believe when she said it with so much resentment. Her tone was practically thick and full of it, and you didn’t know who to listen to anymore.

“She’s just trying to find ways to not make them stay, she’s just scared yawne,” you smile coyly at the nickname, trying to hide behind your free hand as Ao’nung was still holding the other down. The sound of his deep chuckle made your chest flutter. “She’s scared for her people, for her family, and you’re part of it.”

Ao’nung watched as you slowly crept your way out of the hand wall that you had built yourself, your round aqua eyes staring at him so innocently. “She loves you too, like a daughter of her own.”

“And soon I'll make you her actual daughter-in-law,” he teased and your ears raised comically at his comment. You gasped mockingly at his part-crude comment as he referred to the both of you mating, but you both knew that it was too early for that. Soon the time will come for you both to move up to the next step, but for now you’d enjoy your youth a little more. Plus as much as much as Ao’nung would love to see you as his little wife waking up everyday next to him, he also knew that it was not the time yet.

“No cap?” you asked, using one of the human slangs that you had learnt and shared with him. Though he hated anything related to the human species, he couldn’t help but love you in every shape and form. He knew that once you were out like a light, your avatar sleeping peacefully in his arms at night, you would have to wake up in your human body to take care of yourself.

Sometimes Ao’nung would even suck it up and visit you at your outpost. Though it wasn’t that hard for him to do, because there weren’t many humans at the Metkayina shack, just enough to help you to keep going.

“No cap.” he repeats, though he doesn’t sound interested in what he’s saying at all. You craned your neck to look up at him, his free hand raising to rest comfortably on your cheek as the other one kept laying on the child’s back. Ao’nung crept his face closer to yours as his eyes kept on switching between your eyes and mouth.

For once, you didn’t feel shy at all to make the first step. Inevitably it had shocked Ao’nung as you leaned all the way before he even could, pressing your lips against him in a soaring kiss. The warm hand on your cheek followed along.

Your ears fluttered back as you melted into the kiss, turning your face to the side to catch more of him. Ao’nung was like a drug, you just couldn’t get him off your mind nor could you get enough of him. He was like a constant thought running wild at the back of your head, being constantly sought out. You can't really tell what you would do of yourself if one day he decided to up and go, but you’d enjoy what you have for now.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the child that was resting upon your chest had already risen from his slumber. The high pitched ‘Ew’ made you jump a little from surprise, quickly moving away from each other as the boy wiggled his way out of your arms.

The previous thoughts that you had of Ao’nung possibly deciding to leave you one day completely vanished as he stared you down with that lovesick gaze. His eyes sparkled like no other when he looked at you, and you found yourself falling under a similar spell everytime that you would look at your boyfriend.

i didn’t really know how to make the reader any shyer i’m so sorry anon😭 hope you liked it either ways!

#aonung x reader #ao’nung oneshot #ao’nung x reader #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #ao’nung #aonung #aonung oneshot #atwow oneshots #avatar oneshot #atwow oneshot

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terry-perry · 1 month

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okay I need some more alastor x Carmella’s daughter!

can we have an imagine this time of that situation?

"First the Princess of Hell, and now you've gone for one of Carmine's brats? You really have no shame, do you Alastor?"

Right on cue, Vox was ready to confront Alastor after the last Overlord gathering, not caring that everyone was still around to watch. It was just like the Vees to want an audience. Had it been anyone else, Alastor would've torn the obnoxious picture box to shreds and have his torment recorded for his next show. Vox wasn't worth the effort, however. In fact, Alastor knew of a better way to destroy him.

"My friend, there's no need for such jealousy," he started with the nonchalant tone he knew drove Vox crazy. "It's not my fault my natural charisma led to such powerful allies while all you can conjure up are underlings who do nothing more than feed your fragile ego."

That certainly struck a nerve since Vox began to grind his teeth as his stare grew more intense. Alastor simply stayed calm as he subtly carried a tone of smugness. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have lunch with my lady love, whom you will not disrespect again," This was the only time he chose to strike actual fear in Vox's heart as he switched to his Radio Demon persona by darkening his eyes and letting his figure grow into a form that better radiated evil. "Not unless you wish to be a new voice for my broadcast..."

Vox could only stare in bewildered silence as Alastor threatened him. The jab was bad enough, but the last statement stunned him enough to merely nod.

"Darling?" A third voice that differed with its femininity and lack of intensity came through. "Ready to go?" Y/N asked her boyfriend, bearing no mind that he was in almost full demon mode.

Alastor snapped his head around in her direction, calming down instantly. He supposed he made his point, and he was rather famished.

"Ready as always, my dear!" He replied, offering his arm to her which she happily accepted. "I know a lovely little bistro that serves excellent venison."

They walked past the still-emasculated Vox who was doing his best to refrain from buffering.

"Always fun catching up with you, old friend!"

----

Alastor would be lying if he said he wasn't caught off guard by Carmilla's sudden invitation to her home. She may have been Y/N's mother, but he rarely interacted with her sans a few polite greetings whenever they saw one another. According to Y/N, she did approve of him, it was just hard to gather since for every jovial "Hello!" he'd give her, she'd return with a small nod and acknowledging hum. It could be rather off-putting for someone like Alastor who thrived on other's reactions to all he did.

Some feared him, which always brought a certain giddiness within him that bordered on titillating. Some believed they could outmatch him in the battle of wits, which he was always ready for with a good put-down.

Months ago there was that precious giggle his dearest Y/N let out to alert him that she carried a torch for him. He knew right away that was something he could use to his advantage. Working with the heir to Hell's throne was already advantageous, but being involved with one of the daughters of an Overlord with the largest assembly of weapons in the city was something that could make his position all the more concrete. Pestering gnats like the Vees, even with their childish disrespect, knew opportunities like this don't just come every day. It was most likely why Vox tried to provoke him like he did.

So this was why Alastor had to be sure he had Carmilla's approval since it would cement him further in his current position. For someone who believed a smile could go a long way in keeping many guessing, he was certainly thrown off his game by her lack of expression. He could only hope this invite to whatever this was could keep things favorable for him.

Alastor was welcomed in by no one as the door opened on its own like always. He stepped into a large sitting room which contrasted with the one at the hotel as the latter was bright and rather tacky. The Carmine household was more gloomy, yet rather welcoming. He thought it was because the room he was directed to had walls completely covered in books. No doubt his bookish Y/N inhabited this room often, having the habit of sticking her nose in one. Currently, however, sat her mother in an armchair, staring passively at him like always.

"Alastor," Carmilla greeted him, waving him forward. "Glad you came. Please sit."

She gestured him to a sofa next to her seat that he accepted, along with the glass of bloodred wine she offered. Sadly it was just that - wine. It will have to do.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here so unexpectedly, without Y/N," she began, all business and direct, as always.

"If this is about my altercation with Vox this morning, I apologize," he said. He wasn't really sorry for putting the noisy picture box in his place, but whatever kept him in Carmilla's good graces. "As you know, he's an old acquaintance of mine. Things between us can get rather-"

She held up her hand to stop him before taking a sip of her wine. "That's not why I called you here. I've learned not to pay the Vees any mind long ago. No, I wish to speak to you about your relationship with Y/N."

At this, he kept his smile intact as always, but it held a certain wariness, a curiosity. He hoped she couldn't tell how he was preparing himself for whatever she could mean. She sat further back in her seat, studying him it seemed. When he chose to stay quiet, she continued. "I understand you're a busy person, as am I, so I'll do us both a favor and jump right to what I wish to discuss," without hesitation, she did just that. "I want you to marry Y/N."

Alastor could barely cover how he winced at that - the static emanating from him didn't help. Even with all the theories he conjured for this meeting, he didn't imagine this.

Carmilla must've noticed how she caught him by surprise since this was the first time he saw her look amused at the situation. She seemed to want to play with him since she took her time with her next sip before deciding to reassure him. "This doesn't need to happen any time soon," she said. "I don't expect you to get engaged tomorrow. I only want to give you my blessing if that's where you two end up. I find it beneficial for you to know beforehand because you're a businessman before anything else. You won't do anything unless you know it'll benefit you. It's why you're with my daughter in the first place, right?"

Well, there was no use denying it, so Alastor shrugged. The wariness, however, remained. "Y/N is quite a lovely lady with a certain sweetness and intelligence that I find endearing. If she so happens to come with a powerful family, then who am I to not want to get closer to someone who can mean a lot to me?"

Carmilla once more studied him stoically, which had Alastor's wide grin falter. "If I were in you, I'd do the same, I suppose. Which is why I know you'll continue to treat her well. You'll continue to meet her, talk with her, and if it gets to that point, marry her. If not, you'll go about your business like nothing. You're smart enough to know that you should treat this like any other transaction. If any issues, deal with me. Are we clear?"

Oh, she was making this too easy. Alastor almost wanted to let out a cackle of triumphant laughter. Had she stuck out her hand to shake he would have. For now, he'd settle for the clinking of glasses that signified a toast.

One marriage, coming up!

#alastor #x reader #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #request #imagine #oneshot #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #radio demon #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla x reader #carmine!reader

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unholyhelbig · 4 months

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i would love a one shot of nat interacting w ronnie! maybe r is caught up doing a job for nat and nat has to pick ronnie up from school and domesticity w r ensues?

Title: The Carpool Lane [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You get caught up while running an errand for Natasha and aren't able to pick your daughter up from school. You ask Natasha to do it and she has to grapple with some big feelings.

[a/n: Hello! I promise you all that the last official chapter of the Oversight is going to be posted soon. It is a very heavy one so here is some fluff in the meantime! Also, I'm opening my requests again, so feel free to send some my way.]

Warnings: None that I can think of other than horrible grammar, but please let me know if I need to add any!

Check out the full Oversight universe

The air in the home office had become sticky and cloying. It often did when the sun decided to shine as strongly as it did. Natasha kept her books clean and clear of dust but often times there was only so much she could do. Large particles floated in the crossfire of a golden glow. It almost pained her to wrench the window open and disrupt the flow.

It was difficult for Natasha to keep focus when she could hear the sounds from outside and feel the soft breeze on her skin. She was often known for her dedication, for her focus and her ruthlessness. But on afternoons, she was stuck doing mountains of paperwork when she’d much rather be doing you.

Natasha often drifted into hazed memories of the whimpers that escaped you, your breathless swears interlaced with the intoxicating way you moaned her name. She liked teasing you until you begged for her, until you needed her more than you needed breath, until you arched your back and cried into the thousand thread count sheets.

Of course, her favorite thing was to bring you to the very edge with her just her delicate touch and her sultry words. You’d come undone underneath her, coated in sweat and ready to please as an orgasm rocked through- an annoying ringtone.

Natasha had shoved her phone into the bottom drawer of her desk to gain some focus. It clearly wasn’t working. Her nails scratched across the rich oak of the desks surface before she pawed around.

Yelena had set her ringtone to the loudest, most obnoxious blowhorn she could find. She claimed that Natasha was losing her touch and often couldn’t hear anything past her own thoughts. And so, what if that was the case? Natasha quite liked her thoughts lately.

“Romanoff,” She drawled, voice dripping with annoyance.

“Hi,”

It took one breathless word from you and everything else was forgotten. There was worry in that single syllable and it made Natasha’s world spin for only a second before she got her bearings. She could do this. She was in charge.

“Tell me where you are.”

“You know where I am, you sent me here yourself.” You chuckled in a low whisper. Natasha had sent you to collect rent from your usual charges. She knew your pattern and could hear the low hum of the row of washing machines behind you.

While she prided herself on her ability to train you into the perfect protector with a quick hand a vicious tongue, she wouldn’t dare change a thing about your soft spots. You had particular one for the family that rented the apartment above the Soapsuds laundry mat and ran it seamlessly.

It was nearly impossible for you to say no to the elderly woman that took up residence with her son. She’d make you tea and you’d indulge in cookies as she regaled you with her charming stories from the 40’s.

“She’s a trained killer, ma, she doesn’t have time for this!”

Natasha heard the son’s accented voice muffle it’s way through the phone. She scoffed, and switched her phone to her other ear. You must have put your palm over the receiver because you were garbled too.

“I absolutely have time for this Miss Vazquez.” You returned to your conversation, voice whispered once more. “I don’t have time for this, Nat. I don’t want to break her frail heart. Could you possibly… pick Ronnie up from school?”

Natasha had been rendered silent, which wasn’t a feat that was often achieved in a shocking manner. Usually, if a Romanoff was quiet, they were busy calculating and it was better to avoid the storm brewing behind their eyes. This wasn’t the same kind of soundlessness.

She had to pick her jaw off the floor. Veronica was your entire life, and though Natasha came in for a close second, you would do absolutely anything for that child. You’d walk through fire, and it was testament to your growing trust with Natasha, having her pick your daughter up from school.

“Nat, baby” your voice came through the phone “did I lose you? If it’s too much I can get Darcy to take a later lunch. It’s not a problem at all. I shouldn’t have asked, you’re a busy woman and-“

“I’d love to.”

“Huh?”

“I can pick her up, y/n, really.”

Her palms started to sweat, and Natasha never sweated. She stood up and started to pace the length of her office, entering and exiting the large stream of light that vented in through the window. She listened carefully as you told her word for word how to enter the car line, and what mothers to avoid entirely.

“I’ll call ahead, let them know you’re safe to pick up Ronnie. Thank you for doing this, Natty. I appreciate it.”

She smiled, biting her thumbnail. She stopped at the window and peered out at the newly installed swing set at the edge of the property. So many little things had changed in Natasha’s life over the last year. There were children’s books strewn over the tables and art supplies that Ronnie loved to draw with. This was an extra step. This was the extra step that made her fingers itch for the ring hidden in the false bottom of her desk.

“Darling! Would you like to hear about the night I had with Robert Kennedy?”

“I would love to, Miss Vazquez!” You called back, lowering your voice once more. “I love you, I’ll see you at home. Dinner is on me.”

You had hung up the phone a few moments ago but Natasha kept it against her face for a few moments as if it were an anchor. She had to pick up Ronnie. She had to pick up Ronnie. Natasha was on her feet now, searching the large living room and foyer, and even the nightstands by her bed before she grasped at her keys and sprinted out the door.

Veronia was a girl of very little words, but she was comfortable enough around Natasha to curl into her side during movie nights, little fist clenching onto the fabric of her shirt. Most of the time, she’d fall asleep before the end of the film and Natasha would stare affectionately as you scooped her up and took her to her room.

Now, Natasha sat in the parking lot of the school with blood rushing past her ears. Somehow, the gaggle of mothers that lingered by the release doors were scarier than anything she had ever faced before.

She’d been shot at least four times and had survived them all. She had pulled the trigger herself more times than she could count, but all of curious eyes landing on her sleek black car made her nearly sweat through her t-shirt.

Natasha stalled as long as she could before taking the tentative steps across the asphalt lot. There was a small patch of green grass that seemed to be overwatered if it still held its vibrant color during a late heated day.

Her sunglasses were down over her eyes and she feigned looking at her phone, though she eyed each and every parent that lingered. They were openly staring at her, and she heard a few hushed whispers, absolutely no attempt to muffle their judgements.

“Don’t pay them any mind.”

Natasha startled, not noticing the woman that had sidled up next to her. Her skin was pale, her hair a pitch-black color that must have heated her up on a day like this. She stuck her hand out and Natasha took it carefully, shaking it. “Jessica Jones.”

“Natasha Y/L/N,”

The woman was apprehensive to use her own last name. While she kept a mostly low profile, there were still some people who would clock the name as something familiar. The last thing she needed was someone targeting you, or God-forbid, Ronnie. The words fit perfectly into her mouth like a sweet candy.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, and apparently neither have the vultures with the way they’re circling.”

She couldn’t help but smile “I’m… new. My partner got a little tied up at work and asked me to pick up her daughter.”

“Ah, so you’re that Natasha.” She must have flushed awkwardly, nervously, because Jessica seemed to backtrack. “Nothing bad. There are moms like the women over there who put their entire being into making everything perfectly beige. Then there are moms like y/n and I. Imperfect.”

Natasha’s eyebrows lifted. Each woman that flocked towards the front of the glass doors, waiting excitedly for their children to spill out did have the same look about them. They all wore leggings and different colored pastel shirts. Each one had the same highlights and haircuts, and apprehensive stares.

“We’re out here a lot together, and it was pretty obvious when things started to change for her. With you around, the smile actually reaches her eyes you know?”

The statement warmed Natasha greatly and made the box in her desk weigh heavier on her mind. Of course, she didn’t want to think too much about it, but she also wanted to make sure that you were happy, something you reassured her of over and over again.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the barrage of tiny feet on the sidewalks and grass. There was a sea of runny noses and crinkled papers slathered in different primary colors.

A small boy with dark ringlets of hair crashed into Jessica’s legs clumsily and she let out a large huff of air in response, scooping him up into her arms. He had the most startling blue eyes like his mother and gave Natasha a gap-toothed-goofy smile.

Natasha was searching the crowd for your daughter. It wasn’t like she would call out, that was much too vocal for her and Natasha didn’t blame the girl in the slightest. Through the sea of kids, her eyes locked on Ronnie’s and she gave her an encouraging smile and a small wave.

Veronica’s expression lit up as she dashed the few feet that was separating them. Natasha had the foresight to lean down enough to dampen the impact of her hug. It was quite the rare occasion to be embraced by her, so she savored the spring scent of her.

“Your mama got caught up at work and asked me to pick you up.” Natasha explained, leaning back on her heel, she brushed a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear. “What’s that?”

Natasha gently pointed to the picture that was in Veronica’s hand. Her chest welled with pride at the drawing and she would say that it was miles better than any other kid she saw run out with their artwork. Yelena had been right; Ronnie had a beautiful gift that Natasha would pour everything into for as long as she wanted to call it her craft.

This particular scene was a rendition of the large house, too big to fit within the confines of the paper. There was six figures that vaguely resembled each person Natasha knew and loved. A clear grouping had been established.

Kate was smeared in a purple color with dark locks of hair.

Yelena had been drawn next to her, hand and hand.

Clint stood close to them- but not too close- with his signature deep look.

What called to Natasha the most was how Ronnie had grouped her. There was a figure by the edge of the page that was clearly you, down to a tea, and a shorter figure right next to you that was unmistakably Ronnie. The two figures held hands; and on the other side, with her signature deep auburn hair and green eyes, stood Natasha. Her fingers were wrapped around Ronnie’s in the photo, too smudges of color that made the enforcers heart thrum harder than it ever had before.

“This is beautiful,” Natasha breathed, struggling not to let the water that built up in her eyes drip down her cheeks. That would be weird. It would freak Ronnie out. “I love it.”

“You do?” The girl asked.

“I do. In fact, it’s getting framed and hung up immediately.”

It was rare for Ronnie to speak, but it was a prize each time she did. Just like you, Natasha had begun to understand her body language and everything she said with her eyes. It was something she would grow out of, or maybe she would speak with just her art.

Either way, Natasha read her loud and clear.

It was well past ten pm by the time you had pulled yourself away from the laundry mat. You ended up eating dinner with the family despite your repeated refusal. It was some of the best food you have ever eaten and though you missed the quality time with Natasha, the vodka coating on the pasta would have you reeling for weeks.

The house was mostly dark by the time you returned, and you were careful when you let your keys drop into the dish by the door. A soft golden light streamed down the hallway, leading to the kitchen.

Natasha would often partake in a glass of red wine, a record playing softly in the background. It was her time to unwind, to do the dished from dinner and breathe out the stress of the day. Just like any office job. Sometimes she’d use the time to scrub away blood from under her nails as you waited patiently and took sparing sips from her glass despite denying wanting one of your own.

The sink wasn’t on, and the kitchen was mostly silent save for a faucet drip here and there. Natasha leaned against the counter and stared at the moonlit swing set in the yard. It was bathed in just enough pale light to make out the shapes drifting in the light breeze.

You came up behind her, snaking your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. She shivered against the coolness of your skin, but hugged you tight against her center with a comforting and raspy hum.

“Thank you for picking up Ronnie today,” you mumbled into the side of her neck, “And getting her to bed. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Natasha turned in your arms and had a bit of a pout to her expression that you weren’t expecting. You lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at her. You wanted to kiss that frown right off her lips. You wanted to lull her into a state of content after the long day you’d had.

Almost timidly, she said “We’re a family. That’s what we do.”

God, how long you’d wanted to hear that. This time, you didn’t hesitate to close to the distance between you both. You kissed her softly; you kissed her with so much love that it left you dizzy.

You’d scared away partners before with the prospect of having a daughter. Most of the time, you wouldn’t’ even bring it up until a third date, when you were close to sure. But even then, you’d be left at the restaurant, or the bowling alley, or the movie theatre by yourself once the words left your mouth.

Nothing about your relationship with Natasha had been conventional, however, and each day she shocked you with her tenderness and care for someone she had no responsibility towards. Just letting you and Ronnie move in had been enough. Parenting her? Loving her? It felt beyond reality.

She chuckled into the kiss, running her fingers down your jaw. “I love you too, detka.”

“Mm, seriously, thank you.”

“Do you want to see something?”

You lifted your eyebrows suggestively and earned a light-hearted smack to the shoulder. She wormed her way out of your embrace and crossed the large kitchen to the fridge. When you’d first moved in, it was blank. There was a single wedding invitation tacked up with a magnet for joining the Murdock and Natchios families in matrimony, but even that had been years old.

Now there was something new.

Something that had unmistakably been crafted by Ronnie. The photo was a beautiful mix of colors and mediums and at the very corner in, in blue crayon, were two words; My Family.

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