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#she just broke both of them in her hand
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look I'm sorry, I really am. but if you watch The Husbands of River Song and interpret that as being a definitive picture of what River is like as a person... you're wrong. and you've missed the point.
#*yeets this post at tumblr and then runs away fast before an DiscourseTM can start*#seriously I love THORS with all my heart but y'all canNOT just keep taking everything at face value#and assuming that just because a character claims something as though it's true then it must be true#River says the Doctor doesn't love her and Hydroflax scans her and says it's not a lie and it's not!!! it really isn't a lie!!!#it's not a lie because RIVER believes it in that moment!!!#River is acting out in that story she is trying SO hard to distract herself from the pain and loss she's just experienced#ie Manhattan!! she's just lost both of her parents!! all the family she's ever known!!#and she didn't even get to KNOW them the way a child should know their parents!! her childhood was stolen#and now her parents have been too!!#and given the implication that she and the Doctor have a sort of falling out because of the events of Manhattan#she probably thinks that on some level she's lost him too!!#and that's why it's TWELVE who gets to be there with her in the midst of that adventure#because THIS is a Doctor who she doesn't have to be strong for!!!!!#River almost always had to be the strong one for Eleven#she was the one who had to keep looking at the angel when he broke down she had to break her own hand because he left her to do it#she was always the one pointing him towards the person he must become#she taught him how to love so that he could in turn teach HER!!#but Twelve! Twelve can stand beside her at his full height and look her in the eyes and not back away#he can see her full darkness and her unkindness and when it's over he is still there beside her holding her hand#he is allowed to see the most imperfect and un-River-ish version of River because he is the one who can see it and love her more for it#and I do think THORS is an aspect of River! it's her darker uglier afraid and alone and just desperately trying to distract herself side!!#but it's not like. The Definite River. River As She Truly Is (Without The Doctor There To Perform For).#and I'm slightly tired of seeing that position seemingly taken by a lot of people writing for the character lately#not to gripe about this again but like--a lot of the most recent BF stories featuring River make her feel so shallow??#she's basically just the most flattened version of Captain Jack. but female. and without the immortality angst that makes him so interestin#ok I'm done yelling into the void now sfdkhdfkh#I have kicked at a (small but potentially feisty) hornets' nest and now I am going to sleep sdkjfkjhsdsf#gurt says stuff#river song#doctor who
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theoestofocs · 2 years
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very battrope at one WIP? 👀👀👀
@pathos-logical also wanted to know about this one! here is another fic i currently have no intent to publish, unless i manage to separate it out into a few different cohesive story-threads, but i keep trying to do that and it just Does Not work as well without all the clashing vibes of storylines i like
in this fic, thus far, damian has gone full murder-child in order to avenge the well-proven death of Nightwing (i still struggle to wrap my head around the "time travelling batman" plotline & fully believe tim got shafted by the batfam in it so i've opted to disregard it entirely for the purposes of this fic. however damian arrived vaguely early in the sequence of batfam canon, and bruce freaked out over the Literal Child Assassin he now had on his hands on top of Everything until dick just like, stealth-kidnapped him off to bludhaven, where he was pretty much living until the whole "disappearance and death" thing went down)
jason is building his crime empire, still unknown to the rest of the family except as an ominously-named minor threat, and has also rescued sasha grimm of the scarred face and sellout father. this is a character in canon that is almost entirely forgotten because the comics dropped her pretty fast (my theory is that DC didn't know what to do with a complex female character who wasn't Pretty. but that's just me) and i care about her. so much. she doesn't even have a canonical last name i made up "grimm" due to the etymology & vibes of it. she is however canonically jason's sidekick who goes by "Scarlet" and sees the red hood as family (because he rescued her when batman & robin promised to do so, and left her behind; because he rescued her when she had a horrific mask glued to her face and enough trauma to kill her own father, and didn't care if she was a monster, because she was also a kid. god i just care so much about sasha)
meanwhile tim is spiralling bc batman is once again self-destructing over a dead child, & this time tim isn't enough to fix it, so he's directed all his focus to solving the mystery of dick's death because maybe that'll help something, somehow. unfortunately he gets in over his head with one of black mask's henchman. fortunately, a begrudgingly moral crime lord is also staking out black mask at the time. robin is summarily kidnapped by the red hood, much to everyone's dismay, including jason's.
over in the increasingly dysfunctional manor, cass is near-constantly accompanied by steph & helena kyle - who was never given up for adoption in a misogynistic storyline that relied on catwoman becoming too much of a woman to be a good criminal when she had a kid. adoption is an extremely valid and loving choice for a birth parent to make but the rationale for these writers to make catwoman choose it was literally "unlike bruce wayne, who has a literal parade's worth of kids in his basement, catwoman can't juggle being a parent & having a (night) job without letting her Emotions and Womanly Irrationality get in the way of good crime work" so. helena kyle sticks around in my canon. daughter of batman & heir to the Cat, u guys, this character is SO underplayed
and duke - duke is just chillin in gotham, livin his life, for the time being. for the time being. the joker's about to break out of arkham again, though, and - well. let's just say i've opted to fix the meter of a certain chilling rhyme...
#now whisper not a word of them / or talon take your head#yknow. yknow the one#also - and this is segueing into the wip that's just a list of why i love the canonical talon characters#but like. like.#jonas no-last-name lost his family to the spanish flu; he loved animals more than anything and worked as a ''lion tamer'' before the court#he carves a feather into his flesh for every person he kills & this is apparently proof that he's Mentally Unstable#the boy whose mother killed every one of his beloved chickens in the heat of her fever before she died too#the boy who is a killer with blood on his hands not of his own will - just like his mother - just like her but he cannot die like her#cannot even trust himself to remember#benjamin orchard was turned into a talon by his own father as punishment for running away#he tried to join haly's circus to escape and if that's not tragic irony what is?#calvin rose was literally locked in a dog crate by his dad for 3 days at the age of 8. broke himself out & ran#became an escape artist in the damned circus. the only half-talon who successfully got out of the labyrinth#got recaptured & on his first mission rescued both of his targets (a mother & child) and fled#the only female talon on record is mary turner who grew up with scars from a bomb attack in wwii that left her sans tongue#she's also the only one (besides calvin) who gets a ''redemption'' arc. saves batgirl & catwoman & ends up joining the birds of prey squad#codenamed ''Strix''#even some of the sketchier ones - Uriah Boone the eldest Talon is an eldritch creacher from pre-industrial gotham#just kinda lurking in the tunnels#the only ones i don't love are henry ballard felix harmon & of course old billy cobb#but like. justice for the talons that are always treated like monsters batman can just kill & not care. these are people#and they're part of the people i mean when i say gotham saves itself#anyway. thank u for this ask 💜💚💜💚 i Love batman infodumping hhhh#batman#batfam#linden writes#ask linden
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’
☀︎|tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!
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satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.
ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.
though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.
“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”
you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.
“mama, go! mama go papa.”
satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.
your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.
you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.
however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.
“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”
even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.
“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.
satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.
“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”
your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.
you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.
it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.
your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.
“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.
“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”
you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.
“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.
your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.
he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.
“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”
the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.
“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”
you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.
it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.
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ragingbookdragon · 3 months
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It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?
He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.
“No.”
“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”
“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”
This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”
“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”
Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”
“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.
It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”
Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”
Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.
“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”
He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.
“Quit that.”
“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”
“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”
“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”
“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”
“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”
“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”
“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”
Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”
Price simply watches him.
“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”
It's another long moment before Price speaks.
“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”
“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”
Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.
“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”
As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”
He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”
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tariah23 · 11 months
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My sister just cursed out one of the goofy ass managers (I just had issues with her ass the other day since she got mad that I wasn’t doing as she asked and go run her stupid ass to the boss and complain to her then the boss came over to where I was complaining at me and using the “we’re just trying to help 😔-“ like fuck off. I hate working with her ass, man. She used to be a concierge but got promoted to being one of the floor managers and almost IMMEDIATELY let it go to her head because she used to be just fine before she had some sort of rank) so if she finds out that she’s fired the next time she goes in got her shift, I’m quitting too, bro.
#hate this fucking job#and this is the manager that no one likes she’s always on some power tripping shit#they’re gonna be looking shitty since the position that both my sis and I work is the most important at our place of work and we’re the only#ones who work in the position at our location#and one of the providers even asked the boss about when they were gonna hire more ppl to work with us because we’re over worked etc etc and#she told us that the boss told her ass that ‘oh we’re fully staffed ^^’ like to die#as soon as we sit down for a sec here they go with the ‘are you on break-‘ and ‘if you’re hanging out how about you go do-‘ like bro#and they expect us to do 50 million things even tho there’s only one person per shift because they’re too broke to hire anyone else for the#position#a handful of providers and people who’ve worked in our position have quit already because it’s just not worth it here so how are we fully#staffed lmfao#rambling#we used to have two people per shift but my boss split my sis and our friend apart and we were all barely seeing each other at work 🥺#she definitely did it on purpose because they hated to see out have fun while working 🗣️🗣️🗣️#hating ass hoes#I hate it here bro#I wish that someone else could just give me a job rn like if quit the place I work at in a heartbeat lol#it depending on what they do to my sis I might be jobless this week too because I don’t want to be there and I hate how they treat us and#them firing my sister would be the final straw
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phsychobanana · 4 months
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In your eyes
Pairing: Zuko x Firebender!reader
Summary: When Zuko falls for a member of the gaang, he fears that his mistakes may ruin his chances with them.
Word count: 2.3k
A/n~ I think this is gender neutral? I don't remember putting any specific pronouns, but correct me if i'm wrong. Enjoy!
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Funnily enough, the first time you met Zuko was at the northern water tribe. Two fire benders surrounded by waterbenders during a full moon. Not exactly an ideal situation for any firebender, but you were welcome, whereas Zuko was not.
You were running as fast as you could, your legs carrying you in a speed you didn't know was even possible. Katara was in trouble and the moon was slowly disappearing from the sky, fire nation soldiers were everywhere, the water benders were struggling with the loss of the moon and you were terrified.
"Katara!" You yell to her as you get closer to the girl. She was fighting a boy you had never seen before.
You jump on the boy's back and hold your hand to his throat, heating your palm up slowly.
"I would choose my next move carefully if I were you." You say as Katara puts her own hands to her neck and moves them around trying to mimic an explosion.
Suddenly, the boy moves his hands to your face and you feel a burning swipe across your eyebrow. You let go of him and move your hands to your face, a searing pain on your eyebrow almost making you drop to your knees. Katara rushes to your side in a panic,
You see the boy grab Aang and run off before you could do anything.
"Who was that?" You ask Katara angrily.
"Zuko."
***
Zuko followed you and the gaang around for weeks, those weeks turning into months. And the more he saw you, the more he wanted to see you again.
Unfortunately for him, the more you saw him, the more you wanted to smash his head through a window. But every couple has their problems.
You held a very strong grudge towards him, seeing as your eyebrow had scarred and you now had a line going through your eyebrow and over your eye. It made you angry every time you looked in the mirror.
Unbeknownst to you, Zuko felt absolutely terrible for what he had done. He didn't mean to scar you, he would never wish his fate on anyone. Not even his greatest enemy, which lamentably, happened to be you at the moment.
***
The next memorable time that you saw Zuko was in the crystal cave. You had both been thrown in there as a punishment and you were freaking out. Aang, Katara, and Sokka needed you.
You started hitting the walls, throwing as much fire power at it as possible, you even broke a crystal into one big sharp shard and slammed it against the door repeatedly, but it was no use.
"There's no point in doing that." Zuko says, looking at you with his blazing golden eyes. "We aren't getting out until they want us out."
You just scoff in response, unsure of why he was even talking to you in the first place.
He looks at you when he hears your scoff, "You don't have to be rude."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings by being mean?" You mock him in a baby voice, causing him to roll his eyes.
"What's your problem?" Zuko asks, looking you up and down with pinched eyebrows.
"What is my problem? You're my problem, Zuko. You've been hunting my friends and I for months, you've hurt us -or attempted to- more times than I can count, you gave me this," You point to your scar, making him flinch, "And you have the nerve to ask me what my problem is?" You let out another scoff and turn around, giving him your back.
Zuko looks down at his hands, not knowing what to say. He watches as you light each one of your fingers up like a candle to keep yourself distracted.
He walks over and sits next to you, doing the same with his fingers.
You look at him and roll your eyes.
He smiles softly to himself. You haven't moved away from him, yet.
***
If there had ever been even a sliver of you that had liked him in that cave, it was completely gone now. He had betrayed you that night in the cave and it hurt you.
It was the day of the eclipse and you were running through the underground tunnels, looking for Sokka. As you were running you bumped into something, falling hard to the ground.
"Ow!" A familiar voice huffed as the other person made contact with the ground.
"Zuko?"
He looks up, his hair falling into his eyes. You notice his eyes widen and light up, but just as he goes to say something you lunge at him.
With your hands around his neck, you yell at him through gritted teeth. "I trusted you!"
"I know, I'm sorry." He barely gets the words out, gasping and clawing at your hands.
You let go of him and slam him into the ground hard.
"I swear to the spirits, if you ever try to hurt my friends again I will kill you with my own two hands. No bending, no help, just me and you." You say and walk away to go find Sokka.
Zuko sits there for a moment replaying what you said in his head over again. A small smile spreads across his face and he jumps up, running after you.
***
"You have got to be kidding me!" You yell at your friends. They were letting Zuko, the guy that had tried to kill you and capture Aang on more occasions than you could count, into the group.
"Everyone deserves a second.....or 100th chance, Y/n." Aang says, placing a hand on your shoulder as Zuko takes a step towards you.
You clench your fist defensively, making him put his hands up in defense as he takes another step forward.
"I get why you wouldn't trust me, but I've changed." He says, taking one of your hands in his. You pull away with a hollow laugh and walk away.
"Fine, let this psycho join us. I don't care." You say as you disappear behind a wall.
Zuko looks down with a sigh. "Challenge accepted..." He says under his breath as he thinks of ways to win you over.
***
Two days after Zuko joined the gaang, you were attacked. A pack of firebenders found you, attacking the group. You all paired together, Sokka with Toph, Katara with Aang, and you with Zuko. You had begged Toph to pair with you but Sokka stole her, leaving you with the one person you did not want.
You were back to back, fighting off the soldiers when another fleet arrived. The gaang chose to run, not wanting to be captured. You stayed behind to fight off the rest of the soldiers so the others could get away.
"Y/n come on! Hurry!" Sokka yelled for you as you were running after Appa. A soldier dived at you and their hand grabbed at your ankle, making you tumble to the ground.
"Go!" You yell and Aang pulls Appa out of there. You kick your foot back at the soldier, successfully kicking them in the face. You run off into the forest, You can hear the soldiers running after you as you twist through the trees.
You feel something grab your arm and pull you toward them. Looking up, you see Zuko. He's not looking at you, instead looking at the soldiers running around looking for you. You notice that he pulled you into a clearing hidden by trees and bushes. He places his hand over you mouth as you go to say something.
His adams apple bobs as he swallows harshly, listening and watching for any signs that the soldiers might be headed towards the two of you. After no signs, he looks down at you, finally making eye contact.
His golden eyes shine as he looks at you and he smiles softly.
"Thank you." You say quietly, not wanting to be too loud.
He nods.
"Do you still hate me?" He asks with a barely there smirk.
You shake your head. "I don't think I ever really hated you." He smiles at you. "I just strongly disliked you. It was a very strong dislike. Very strong."
"Okay, I get it."
You laugh softly at his dismissiveness of the subject.
"Do you think I'm still a bad guy?" His voice is quiet. Barely a whisper, but you hear it.
You look at him, he's looking down at the grass, his fingers are playing with each other out of habit, his hair is fallen over his face and covering his eyes. You never quite realized how pretty he was.
"Of course not-" You begin to tell him your answer, but your words are interrupted by yelling.
The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the noises and see your friends running to you.
"There they are!" Katara calls to the others as she makes eye contact with you.
Zuko lets out a frustrated breath at the interruption, but he gets up and dusts off his clothes, offering you his hand.
***
The days after that moment in the woods would replay in your mind every night before you would sleep, every morning when you'd awake, every meal, every training session with Aang and Zuko, every group meeting, every day all day.
You had started watching Zuko more than you would care to admit. The way he tried to make up for all of his past mistakes always seemed to put a smile on your face. He helped Katara in the kitchen when he could, he always made time to talk about weapons with Sokka, he always played games with Toph and Aang, and he was especially trying to make it up to you. Though you didn't notice that part.
He always pulled your chairs out for you, he helped teach you how to control the lightning within you, he even got you flowers one time. Unfortunately the flowers backfired and Appa ended up eating them, sneezing petals for a week.
You were currently training Aang on the beach with Zuko. The sun was blazing down on your back and your cotton shirt was absorbing all of the heat, making you sweat more than you would normally.
You walk over to where Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Suki are sitting, sipping their little coconut drinks as they watch you and Zuko beat the arrows off of Aang.
You take both ends of your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in your shorts and bathing suit top. When you walk back over to the boys you notice how red Zuko's face is.
"You alright over there, Z?" You ask, worried that he might be overworking himself in the heat.
His head snaps to look you in the eyes, his face going an even deeper red.
"Y-yeah, heh. Why wouldn't I be?" He looks around, avoiding looking at you with everything in him.
You decide to ignore his weird reaction to your words and go back to teaching Aang.
"This one is a partner move. So, I'll demonstrate with Zuko and then when you understand how to do it, you can try with him." You explain as you walk over to the spluttering and red as a beet, boy.
You move his hand to your waist and his other in yours, your own face heating up a bit at this position. You then kick his own foot out from underneath him and flip him over your shoulder. You light your hand ablaze and put it near Zuko's neck like one would a sword.
"I thought you said this was a partner move," Zuko groans out.
"Yeah, good guy and bad guy. Partners." You say with a smirk.
"You can do that, right Aang?"
Aang nods his head excitedly.
After another hour or two of flipping Zuko over your shoulders, you all sit down around a camp fire on the beach for dinner. You and Zuko offer to collect the plates and take them back up to the house.
"You did good in training today." He says as he takes the plates from your hands and places them on the counter.
You let out a small laugh.
"Well I would assume I did considering the amount of times I was able to flip you."
He rolls his eyes and you take this moment to admire him.
His hair falls in perfect strands across his forehead, his golden eyes reflect the light of the setting sun peeping through the window, his skin is soft as you place your hand on his.
He looks at you confused when he feels your touch.
"You did good, too." You say softly.
He smiles at this, looking down at your hand that was still on his.
"How do you see me?" He asks, breaking the peaceful silence.
"What do you mean?"
"What am I in your eyes?"
You think for a moment, pondering how your answer.
"You're a person who has made many mistakes." You begin, making his shoulders droop a little bit. "But you are also a person trying to make up for all of those mistakes. You're a kid, a kid who has been through a lot. Yet, you're still sweet and funny and kind and loyal. You try to hide how you feel, but I can still see every emotion you have in your actions. You're trying. And for that, I think you are amazing. That is who you are in my eyes."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, making you feel nervous about how he would react.
With a million thoughts racing through his mind, he decides not to say anything. You said that his actions meant more, so he spoke with an action.
He gently placed his hand on your cheek and leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away at any second. But you don't.
His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his hair tickling your cheek. You smile into his kiss making him smile as well. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him closer as he pulls away from the kiss. You rest you foreheads against each other, catching your breath.
"I think I like you." He says, making you laugh.
"Oh shut up." You say and lean in for another kiss.
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norrizzandpia · 7 months
Text
The Video (LN4)
Summary: Y/n and Lando’s club dancing sends the F1 world into a frenzy.
Warnings: sexual innuendos, sexual conversations, its short im sorry, if you want something more to this storyline lmk in the requests ill prob do it lol
Note: IVE HAD THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD LONG BEFORE I EVEN STARTED WRITING
TWITTER
ln4andop81 how yall feeling after that leaked vid?
- mclarensgirly FIGHTING. FOR. MY. LIFE.
- f1fan2 if i speak.
- ln4andop81 what shall we address first.
- mclarensgirly maybe the GRINDING????
- f1fan2 PLZ I SCREAMED THE WAY HIS HANDS GUIDED HER HIPS 😫😫😫😫
- ln4andop81 THE WHISPERING IN THE EAR???
- mclarensgirly BRUH I JUST KNOW LANDO SAID SOMETHING SO GODDAMN QUESTIONABLE BY THE LOOK OF Y/N’S FACE
- f1fan2 bro literally moved his hands up to the bottom of her boobs and down and then whispered some crazed shit in her ear and i died. THE PERSON WHO FILMED THAT VIDEO I LOVE YOU 😋😋
- ln4andop81 yeah i think its safe to say that lando norizz is definitely a myth.
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y/nnn so about last night.
Comments:
mclarensgirly ABOUT LAST NIGHT MY ASS
ln4andop81 girly had a whole video of her grinding on her bf leaked and her response is “about last night”. icon.
landonorris i had fun 😙
- mclarensgirly BYE
- ln4andop81 MANS IS INSANE
- f1fan2 so moral of the story lando basically fucked his gf in public and said “i had fun” NO SHIT
- mclaren dont think you understand the pr situation at hand 😀
- mclarensgirly NOW IM DONE FOR
- ln4andop81 MCLAREN ADMIN IS FIGHTING ON THE FRONT LINES RN
maxverstappen this is why i said to not drink too much
- y/nnn YOU PUT THE DRINKS IN. MY. HAND.
- landonorris i think your exact words were “next round on me?”
- kellypiquet i am afraid babe that you did in fact do and say both of those things
TWITTER
Mclarenfan22 its the way lando pushes y/ns hips into him so she can be as CLOSE as possible
- circledriving-racers plz when i first saw that vid i rlly didnt think by the end of it i would know what lando looked like when he was clearly feeling some type of way
- ln4andop81 yeah bc the way he threw his head back when she started circling her hips against his spoke VOLUMES
- papayafan it had ME feelin some typa way and i wasnt even the one getting danced on
- ln4andop81 i feel like its prob for the best the vid ended before we could see them separate bc i feel like we wouldve seen LANDO and not lando if yk what i mean 😟
- papayafan a bone-
- mclarenfan22 we would rlly know EVERYTHING abt him at that point
- ln4andop81 im willing to bet a large sum of money (im broke) that hes big
- y/nnn is this where im supposed to “enter the chat”?
- ln4andop81 MAAM.
- mclarensgirly YES. SPILL THE TEA.
- f1fan2 YEAH DO THE PUBLIC A SERVICE AND TELL US ‼️‼️‼️
- y/nnn i think i would like to gatekeep this one girlies 💋💋
-mclarensgirly wow.
- ln4andop81 ill never get over how it girl she is.
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landonorris it was a great night and thats all i have to say abt it
Comments:
oscarpiastri UHHHHHHH
mclaren we cant catch a break ever
y/nnn BABE THE SIGN 😭😭
- landonorris i thought it really translated my thoughts 🙏🏻
- mclarensgirly BRO DOESNT GIVE A FUCK GAHDAMN
ln4andop81 so i guess the question rlly is: did the sign become reality?
- landonorris what do you think 🤭
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lizzobetumblin · 19 days
Text
Melissa hated her feelings. 
She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings. 
“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name, 
‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list: 
1.) Don’t cry.   
 2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate
3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you
She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking, 
‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.
 ‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion. 
‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,
“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”
Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry. 
9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow. 
It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.
Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong. 
When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that. 
When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.
When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again. 
She carried that. 
Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:
‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her. 
‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’ 
She cried. 
She escalated. 
She took it personal. 
But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music. 
‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose. 
The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too. 
Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow. 
So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks. 
Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified. 
And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power. 
Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her. 
And she finally loved them back. 
2K notes · View notes
ghostfacd · 4 months
Text
YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX! | TOM BLYTH
pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary. you knew tom was your ex, and that you should probably stay away, but that’s never stopped you before
part 1 | installment of this au (please read for more context!)
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ynuser :)
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user1 im loving the aesthetic
user2 THE BIKINI TOP IS SO CUTE
user3 put them toes awayyyy
rachelzegler i pay attention to things that most people ignore (this isn’t your car.)
➥ user4 PLEASE?? not rachel using yn’s own lyrics on her
➥ user5 IS THIS TOM’S CAR??
user6 i may be delulu but those r tom blyth’s mfing hands.
user7 he has her hair tie on; i repeat, tom blyth literally has yn’s hair tie on
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When Tom had messaged you saying he wanted to talk, no matter how much you knew it was a bad idea, you decided to agree to it anyway.
The breakup had ended pretty badly. Although it was an agreement between you and Tom, that didn’t mean that’s what the both of you truly wanted.
The reason the two of you broke up in the first place was that Tom was talking too much about your future, which wasn’t a bad thing — but it overwhelmed you. You weren’t ready to settle down, not yet, at least. You and Tom had only been dating for a few months, and although it was all sweet and loving, you knew that getting engaged this early was like asking for a disaster to strike.
He was upset. Clearly. He loved you, you loved him, so why was it such an inconvenience for you to agree to take the leap in your relationship? That caused a blown out argument between you two, and by the end of it, you had agreed breaking up was the right thing.
You had a acting and music career to focus on, and Tom had an acting career that was just at the beginning of its success. You felt that it wasn’t right to put a distraction into his life.
“Is this a bad idea?” You ask breathlessly as you pull away from the kiss. You can’t help but stare into Tom’s eyes, which held a language of their own.
“Maybe,” he says, wiping the corner of your mouth. “But who cares?”
Who cares. Right. Well surely, it was a bad idea to meet up with your ex, much less kiss him, and although alarms were baring in your head that you probably shouldn’t—you go in for a second kiss, this time, Tom doesn’t let you go, cradling you close to his body.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to take the next step in our relationship, I’m fine if you’re not ready yet. I just want you, okay?”
And how could any girl possibly reject Tom Blyth when he’s begging so prettily? Certainly not you.
tomblyth and ynuser both posted an instagram story !
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ynsbiggestfan THE GIRLS AND I AFTER SEEING THE STORIES ON INSTA
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user8 IM ACTUALLY DYING BC NO WAY WAS THAT A COINCIDENCE
user9 they’re connected they cant be far away from each other
user10 she’s my Heather 💔💔
➥ user12 fr i wish tom was that inlove w me
user13 so this is why rachel said that wasn’t yn’s car
➥ user14 ITS ALL MAKING SENSE NOW
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sean.kauf photo dumpy
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ynuser pic creds ?? 🤬
➥ sean.kauf 🤓🤓
user15 wait im confused, is she together with tom again or is she with sean..
user16 Ykw i cant even be mad, if i was as hot as yn, i’d have two bfs too!
➥ user17 REAL SHIIT
tomblyth fun fact: the 2nd pic is sean third wheeling after forcing me and yn to speak to each other
➥ user17 TOM CONFIRMED IT IM DEAD
user18 all the yn haters must feel stupid asf rn after accusing yn of being with sean
➥ user19 literally cause all 3 of them are literally close 😭😭 like why would sean date yn, he’s literally friends with tom
user20 if yn isn’t dating sean let me have him omg
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ynuser yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect !!!!!
view all comments
user21 this took the cake.
user22 time to cry again bc tom blyth is off the market
user23 she got him wrapped around her finger FR
user24 THE THIRD PIC OF THEM 🥹🥹
user25 THE CAPTION OUUU GIRLY IS BRAVE
tomblyth i only see you as a friend (the biggest lie i’ve ever said)
➥ user26 I CHOKED
➥ user27 THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS ARE CRYING RN
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redskull199987 · 6 months
Note
Plzz write fnaf Michael x femreader! It starts like a fluff and then smut👀
Lucky
Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request Word Count:2.4k Warnings:Angst to Fluff to Smut, this got way angstier than i thought SOWWWY- but I promise, fluff ensues, Smut ensues, so MDNI/18+, Movie Spoilers Summary:After you finally return from work, a few surprises await you at home…
Masterlist
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Your day had been slow. Agonizingly slow. Time seemed to go by extra slow today and by the time you finally left your office, it had felt like you had spent a week there, instead of a day. But as you slowly made your way towards your car, your mood lightened, as you remembered what would await you at home.
Your loving Boyfriend and his even sweeter little sister. 
The little family you had built over the years always managed to put a smile on your face and especially after the whole drama at that Pizza Plex, you were even more grateful for what you had.
You slightly shook your head, trying to avoid thinking of those memories. The things you had seen, while Mike and You tried to save his sister from the dead children. You hoped that they got what they wanted…and that the Monster who created them had gotten what he deserved.
Your mind was about to wander back to the memory of the springlocks violently stabbing into his chest, as a knock on your car window quite literally pulled you out of your thoughts.
A quiet gasp left your lips, as you looked outside to see who had knocked. Much to your relief, it was only your coworker, who wanted to wish you a good night. You quickly uttered your goodbyes, before finally starting the car and making your way back home.
By the time you arrived, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. You quickly parked your car next to Mike´s before moving towards the entrance. 
You didn't bother turning on the lights in the hallway, as you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes.
Before you could call out for Mike and Abby, you heard someone running towards you and as you realized what was happening, you quickly duck away, stumbling backwards.
Just in time to avoid being hit by the bat that was swung into your direction.
“Mike!! It's me!! It's just me!!”, You quickly yelled and reached for the lightswitch.
As the hallway was suddenly illuminated by the dim gleam of the ceiling light, you could make out the figure of Mike in front of you. He was breathing heavily. With the bat still in his hand, he was towering over you. He just looked at you for one more second, before finally realizing what was happening. He quickly dropped the bat, a hand flying to his face, covering his mouth in disbelief of what he had just done.
“I´m sorry…”, he mumbled, dropping to his knees,”I'm so sorry. I thought…I thought it was..that it was o-one of t-them..”
Your heart broke at the sight in front of you. You quickly pulled Mike into your arms:”It's okay, Mike. I´m alright. They're gone now. They're gone.”
You gently kissed his temple, as you saw that he tried to suppress his tears. You knew that he was having a hard time dealing with the gruesome events. It had left scars on him. Both physically and mentally.
“I´m sorry..”, he muttered once more, pulling you closer to him. You only kissed his forehead again and mumbled sweet nothings into his ear until he had calmed down again.
You gently cupped your boyfriend´s face and gave him a soft smile. To your delight, he returned the smile and leaned forward to quickly peck your lips.
The sweet moment was interrupted as the voice of Abby grabbed your attention. The young girl came running into the hallway, calling out both of your names. Your smile got even bigger as she quickly came over to you, giving you a short hug, before starting to ramble about what she had drawn today and that she wanted to show you all her artworks. You happily nodded at everything that she said. 
“Alright Abbs.”, Mike suddenly said, interrupting his sister and affectionately patting her head,”You can show her tomorrow. It's time for bed now.”
The little girl pouted for a moment and turned back to you:”But I wanna stay up and play with you.”
You gave her a mischievous smile:”I tell you something. If you promise me to go to bed now, I will play and draw with you tomorrow the entire day. And I'll make your favorite Dinner, hm?”
Abby´s face lit up in anticipation. She quickly nodded and said good Night to you and Mike, before disappearing into her room.
Mike only looked at you with admiration,”How do you alway do that?”, he asked, as the two of you also made your way to your shared bedroom.
“It´s a secret”, You grinned and let yourself fall down on the bed. A satisfied groan left your lips, as you finally felt the stress from work dissolve into nothing but hot air.
You watched how Mike pulled his Hoodie over his head and throwing it to the side. Now only left in his T-Shirt, he flopped down beside you, propping his head up on his arm and looking down at you. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just looking you up and down, before he slowly lifted his hand and gently grasped your cheek. You gasped quietly, as he suddenly leaned forward and connected your lips in a sweet and tender kiss. It only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled back again. You looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed, as he leaned his forehead against yours.
Finally, Mike opened his mouth to say something, but after a few seconds of silence, he closed it again and he opened his eyes. You looked at his dark orbs and almost lost yourself in all the emotions, he was trying to convey only with his gaze.
“It's okay.”, you affirmed, “I know. You don't have to say anything, Mike.”
The boy only smiled at you and it was a genuine smile. One, that you rarely got to see.
Without another word, Mike suddenly sat up, pulling you with him and into his lap. You gasped loudly at the sudden change of position, which gave Mike the chance to put his mouth back onto yours.
This kiss was different. It was passionate, hungry even. He groaned lowly as he pulled your body tighter against his. Your hands pressing up against his chest, while he explored your Body with his.
“Mike..”, you warned him, as he started to kiss your jaw, your skin burning like fire everytime his lips touched you.
“Your sister…”, You mumbled again, but you and him both knew that it was already too late, that you were already at his mercy, the gaze of yours just as hungry as his.
“We'll be quiet.”, he finally answered, as he pushed you off his lap and onto the mattress. You watched how he now also pulled his Shirt over his head, before leaning down to kiss you again. You moaned against his lips, as you felt his cold hands wander under your sweater. He squeezed your hips tenderly, while making it his mission to let you drown in his kisses. As he finally parted to help you out of your clothes, you immediately missed the feeling of his lips pressing against yours.
Quickly you pulled your sweater over your head, discarding it on the floor. Mike only admired you for a few seconds, his gaze wandering all over your Body and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.
“Don't look at me like that.”, you mumbled and gently put your hand over his eyes.
Mike only chuckled at your antics,”Like what?”, he asked, acting all innocent and letting your hand remain on top of his eyes.
After a few seconds of Silence, you slowly pulled your hand back and his eyes went back to look at you.
“Like that.”, You croaked, looking away from him.
“But why?”, Mike teased, pulling you closer to his body by your hips,”I love what I am seeing.”
Upon hearing his words, you looked back up at him. his eyes held no ounce of doubt. He was a hundred percent sure.
“I love you too, Mike”, You smiled and quickly pecked his lips. Mike only returned the smile,”May I?”, he asked, mentioning towards your bra.
You quickly nodded and mere seconds later, your bra joined the heap of clothing that was already on the floor.
Mike´s lips quickly latched onto your breast, as his hand gave the same attention to the other. With a moan, your head lolled back in pleasure.
“You like that, hm?”, Mike mumbled, as he pushed you back down on the bed. You weren't able to form a coherent sentence anymore, so you just nodded.
“Please, let me have you.”, he urged, his hands wandering to the hem of your pants,”Let me make you feel good.”
“Mike please..”, You finally pressed out,”I need you..Need you inside of me.”
That was all the confirmation he needed, before finally pulling your pants down, alongside your panties.
He slowly pushed your thighs apart and started to kiss up the inside of your calves, but never quite touching you where you desperately needed him.
“Mike please.”, You whined again, while trying to keep your voice down. But your eyes widened in surprise and you tried to suppress the loud moan that made it´s way up your throat, as Mike suddenly pushed two fingers inside you without a warning. His tongue joined mere seconds after, as he ate you out like a man starved.
Your hand wandered to Mike´s hair and you gently pulled and pushed at his head as he was working you closer to your release. You could already feel that coil form inside you and after only a few more seconds, it snapped and with a suppressed moan, you came against his mouth.
As your heavy breathing started to slow down again, Mike finally looked back up at you, the desire in his eyes bigger than ever. He quickly latched his lips on yours again and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you hungrily.
Your hands now wandered towards his sweats and as you grabbed his already hard member through his pants. He groaned lowly, closing his eyes in pleasure.
Quickly, you pulled down his pants, leaving him now also bare in front of you. Without a second thought, you grabbed his length and gave him a few experimental pumps. That seemed to do the trick on him and you watched how Mike´s brows furrowed, as he melted against your touch.
“Wanna be inside you..”,he mumbled against the skin of your shoulder. With anticipation, you lined him up with your entrance and looked back up at him. Mike was looking at you questioningly. And as soon as you gave him a small nod, he finally pushed inside of you.
You grabbed onto his biceps, as the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure. Mike slowly started moving in and out of you, grabbing your hips tightly. You suppressed a moan by sinking your teeth into his shoulder. Not to pierce the skin, but hard enough to leave a mark.
You could hear Mike mumbling incoherent words into your ear, as he picked up his pace, desperately trying to push you over the edge again.
“Mike..”, You moaned, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the sweet sweet relief and as you looked back into his eyes and saw the adoration that he had for you, you were done for it. You clenched around him and came all over his cock. Mike followed soon after, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.His thrusts got slower and sloppier and he finally pulled out of you, his breath still heavy against your skin. He quickly kissed your temple, before getting up. After a minute, he returned with a damp cloth and a water bottle. With a smile still on his face, he gently cleaned you both up, before slipping back into bed with you.
You chuckled, as he nuzzled his head into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled his body closer to yours. His warmth engulfing you fully.
“Good Night, Mike.”, you smiled and gently kissed his cheek.
“Night.”, he replied with a yawn.
It didn't go unnoticed by you, that he didn't use his pills to fall asleep today. Or the recording of nature sounds. He didn't even look up at the Poster of Nebraska, that was now hanging over his bed again.
Looking at your beloved one last time, you smiled once more before finally closing your eyes and letting sweet sleep engulf you.
Bonus:
“Mike!?”
“Miiiike!?”
“Miiiiiike!?!?”
Your eyes snapped open and within a second, you were sitting up on the bed. Your gaze wandered to the door, where loud knocks and shouts were being heard. After a few seconds of trying to understand in which century you had woken up in, you realized where you were and the events of last night returned to you.
“Mike?”, You mumbled quietly and tapped your boyfriend's shoulder, who was laying next to you,”Mike??”
With a groan, he finally looked up at you and before you had the chance to say something, he tumbled off the bed due to leaving too much over the edge.
You couldn't suppress the chuckle that left your lips as you leaned down to check on Mike.
“Morning.”, You smiled, as you realized that he was fine. You quickly leaned down to peck his lips, which immediately seemed to wake him up more.
“Miiiiike!?!”
Your sweet moment was interrupted, as you heard Abby banging against the door again.
Mike let out an annoyed groan before getting up and putting his pants back on.
“In a minute, Abbs!”, he yelled back and the banging on the door finally stopped.
“We have a lot to do today.”, you said as you finally got up too and started to get dressed.
Mike only looked at you in confusion:”What do you mean?”
“Remember how I made Abby go to sleep yesterday?”, you chuckled and softly kissed his cheek before walking to the door. Pushing the handle down, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Abby who grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her room to show you her drawings.
Mike could only look after you with a tender smile on his face. How had he gotten so lucky?
3K notes · View notes
murdrdocs · 2 months
Text
do you believe in us?
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description. from a young age, you and PAUL ATREIDES believe you belonged to the other, and foolishly thought you could one day marry. not even an unlikely marriage between your parents will diminish those beliefs.
includes. STEPCEST, SMUT MDNI 18+, fem!reader, oral (f receiving), childhood best friends to stepsiblings, instigator paul, appearances by lady jessica, duke leto, and duncan idaho, sparring, sneaking around
wc: 5.3k+
a/n: title from us by movement. artwork credit to revol404 on instagram. ao3 link
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When you were younger, you saw Castle Caladan for what it wasn’t. 
In nearly all of your memories, Castle Caladan was warm and bright. The sun shone into the large windows, illuminating the gray hallways and providing a comforting warmth that seduced your young mind into seeing Castle Caladan as one of the residences from the fairytales your mother would tell you. In these memories you were always running and smiling, often hand-in-hand with your best friend. Your first love. 
Paul Atreides. 
Castle Caladan was the home of the person you cared about most. Therefore, visits were vacations. They were scarce, becoming more rare the older you got, but that only made you treasure them more. 
You and Paul would spend the entire day together, even going as far as to sneak out of your allocated bedrooms and tiptoe into the chambers of the other. In the morning, the maids would find two little bodies sharing a bed, hands reaching out to touch the other in the empty space between you both. 
And as you grew, you traded running around the halls for playing each other in chess. Playing throughout the fields was traded for walking along the shoreline. 
Sneaking into each other's bedroom only changed by the nature of intentions. You still ached to spend more time together, but the innocence of it was lost. In the solitude of the night, you would make up for the time lost during the day to Paul’s training as the heir, and your duties with your mother and Lady Jessica. 
When your mother broke the news, she misled you. 
“You will be permanently living with the Atreides family,” came her carefully chosen words. If she had not trained you, maybe it would’ve taken you longer to catch the implications. Maybe you would not have understood what circumstances had brought this upon your family until you were packing, or even until you were already en route to Caladan. 
Instead, it’s then and there that you realize how your chances have been lowered to none. 
Your mother had said your name, her tone as dry and disappointed as her eyes. “You will never be able to marry him. It is as I said.” 
And that was that. 
Your best friend becomes your step brother in the blink of an eye. Together, you made up the new and noble siblings of House Atreides. 
Your mother and Paul's father were married, and you and Paul now shared a last name. It was an immovable fact, no matter how often you and Paul attempted to convince each other of the opposite in moments of intense desperation. 
No matter how many times you tried to convince the other that marriage is a procedure that could be reversed should the need ever arise, you both knew that a reversal would be unlikely.
Duke Leto married your mother despite his clear love for Lady Jessica for security. If he could manage to commit such an act onto the one he loves, then there would be no undoing this.
Now, you see Castle Caladan for what it is. 
As beautiful as it is dreary. As cold as it is large. As encompassing as it is comforting. 
You sit at the breakfast table next to Paul and across from your mother. Lady Jessica sits at the end of the table, and Duke Leto, your stepfather, is absent. 
There’s no small talk, just the silent scraping of utensils against expensive china and the occasional audible gulp of fluid down throats. 
Every so often, you throw a curious glance Paul’s way, and the look he throws at you is in similar fashion. You both feel the stiffness in the air. 
Paul raises his eyebrows. He nudges them towards your mother and then his mother, and does the same with his eyes for emphasis. 
You slightly widen your eyes pointedly, your way of saying I know without having to say it. His lips pull up into a small smile and then you both turn back to face your plates. 
The tense silence continues for a while. Your mother addresses Lady Jessica. Lady Jessica addresses Paul. Your mother addresses you and Paul. 
And then your plates are cleaned and Paul is standing. 
“May we be excused?” 
It’s surprisingly a clear day outside, and you did not have to speak to Paul to know that he intended for both of you to enjoy the agreeable weather before Caladan was inevitably submerged in water once more later in the night. 
“You may be excused,” Lady Jessica confirms. 
You’re in the midst of rising from your seat and pushing the chair out from under you whenever you catch Lady Jessica’s eye. She does not say anything to you, but she does not need to. 
Just the cold gaze of her blue eyes alone are enough to make you sink back into your seat. From behind you, Paul calls your name. If you were not locked in a trance, you would have looked at him, you would have found the soothing blue-green of his eyes instead of the petrifying chill of his mothers. 
“I’ll see you later, Paul,” you tell him on your own volition, but you think that is what Lady Jessica wanted you to say anyway. 
She waits until the dining room is cleared of anyone other than you two before she begins to communicate. 
“You and my son…” Her words taper off and you are too busy focusing on the way her lips have only moved to take in another bite of her breakfast, and not to speak to you. 
While you understand the ways of the Bene Gesserit, it never fails to amaze you. 
“Ma’am?” You are playing dumb and both of you are aware. 
Still, Lady Jessica elaborates, “You both have had feelings for the other since you were young.” 
There is no room for denial so there is no reason for you to attempt it. You nod twice, casting your eyes down to your lap where your hands lay restlessly. You begin to pick at your nails as Lady Jessica continues. 
“And are those feelings still present?” 
Your answer comes entirely too quick. 
“No!” Your voice echoes around the room and you cringe. 
Lady Jessica lifts an eyebrow. She senses your dishonesty. 
You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. “Yes, ma’am. But we have not acted on them.” 
When she communicates this time, it is with her voice. 
“Good. You are a smart girl and your mother has raised you well. I’m sure you will make both of us proud.” She finishes off her food and sits straighter, wiping her mouth free of nonexistent residue with a white cloth. “Now I’m sure you have things to be getting to, right, dear?” 
You have never been happier to leave somewhere. You say your goodbyes as graciously as possible and leave the dining room. 
You’re in the training room exhausting yourself with slightly shaky jabs at the practice dummy whenever the door opens. There is a split second where you’re prepared to turn around and throw the next jab at the intruder, but then he speaks. 
“If I were Gurney I would chastise you for fighting with your back to the door.” 
You speak around your heavy  breaths. 
“Eyes in the back of my head, remember?” 
Your reference is one that goes back to you and Paul’s young teenage years. A phrase you confidently proclaimed once you and Paul both had begun extensive training, learning combat that could protect yourselves and your—then separate—family names should the need ever arise. (To this day, Paul is more formidable in combat than you are, but back then you could confidently hold your own.) 
Gurney had taken over training then, and he had allowed you and Paul to train together, solely because you were visiting during one of Paul’s less intense training sessions. 
(You believed that Gurney always had a soft spot for you and the Atreides heir. Not nearly as obvious as the one held by Duncan Idaho, but its existence is present within the weathered man.)
When Gurney had chastised you for fighting with your back to the door, you quickly quipped with a claim that you had eyes in the back of your head. When Gurney tossed a rock at your back, not big enough to provide more than a bruise against your skin, you were able to block it without turning around. 
Gurney was impressed. Paul was stunned. You attributed it to pure luck. Yet since then, it was never let go. 
When you begin to notice Paul approaching you, you credit your awareness of his movement to knowing him more than you knew your surroundings. You weren’t the most skilled warrior. Your mother belongs to a notable house, which forced you to learn slightly more than the basic survival skills. Some chastised her for withholding you from Bene Gesserit training, or perhaps more in depth training that would harden both your body and your mind. As far as she cared, you could hold your own in a fight, and that is all you needed. 
But you knew Paul. The ins and outs. Sometimes, late at night when you would allow the sickness of infatuation to fall upon you as you gazed at the stars, you liked to think that you and Paul were intertwined. You liked to convince yourself that your souls were intertwined and codependent. 
It is hard to dispute that claim when you know based on intuition alone that Paul is right behind you. 
(You can also feel his body heat and his presence behind you, but in your mind that is not nearly as romantic.)
You spin around to face Paul, your arms raised and body tensed with preparation to fight. 
Paul eyes your posture, cocks his head to the side, and mirrors it. 
It’s over quickly. 
Paul has your dagger thrown to the side within the first three movements. He has your hands restricted in his grasp in the next two movements. With just one more movement, he has your cheek and chest pressed against the wall with your hands bound behind your back. For just a moment more, he stands a respectable distance away from you. 
With the space between you both, the position could be passed off as friendly. The position could pass as the competitive nature it resembled. 
Until Paul takes a step closer and flushes his crotch against your backside, making you well aware of the stiff form within his trousers. 
For just a moment more, you let yourself revel in the feeling with your eyes closed, the rate of your breathing evening out now that you aren’t exerting yourself. You shimmy your hips just a bit, nestling Paul’s erection between your cheeks as best as you can with lack of movement and layers hindering your abilities. 
But then the moment is gone. You push it away when you speak. 
“Paul,” you intend for the syllables of his name to be a warning. At first, they come out as a pleading whine, so you clear your throat and try again. 
“Paul.” This time, it is firm and demanding. 
When Paul hums, it is against the shell of your ear. The proximity allows you to feel his voice instead of just hearing it, and you are instantly reminded of the times Paul had been on his knees between your legs and using the vibration that came from him to bring you pleasure you have not felt since. 
“We really shouldn’t.” You’re trying to convince both him and yourself. 
“Why shouldn’t we?” 
The question should not have to be asked. It is a question that should not need to be answered, for you both know what is preventing you from having the other in ways from before. 
You do not answer. Your forehead thuds against the wall, your warm breath rebounds against the wall and hits your lower face when you exhale. 
Paul starts to gently rock his hips into yours. His free hand, the one not restricting your movement, presses flat against the cement structure. 
When the pleasure increases, and your desire follows, you lift your head and let it lull to the side, resting the side of your skull against the toned muscles in Paul’s bicep. You start to give in. 
Your lips part in a moan devoid of any sound as Paul asks you again. 
“Tell me, my star. Why shouldn’t we?” 
He lets go of your hands, instead using his own for a more important cause. His palm glides up the side of your shirt until he reaches your breast. You cannot feel the warmth of his touch through your layers, but just the pressure alone is enough to have you choking around your words. 
“Because it’s not right, Paul,” you eventually tell him. 
Paul tuts. The hand on the wall meets your waist, his fingertips pressing into the area as he uses his grip to pull you back against him. 
“What d’you mean it’s not right?” He kisses the side of your neck and at this moment, you are considering letting him take you here and now. “It feels right, doesn’t it?” 
You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking. 
You had not realized just how bad you missed Paul until now. Your mind has conjured up images of him in your sleep, perfect replicas of his face created from memories of your time spent together and imagining what could be if you just release your inhibitions. When Paul gently sinks his teeth into the skin along your shoulder, it dawns on you that with just a bit more time, your dreams could easily walk into the waking world. 
Maybe you were just about to give in. Maybe Paul would have convinced you to let him finally have you. 
Either way, the moment is lost whenever Paul steps away from you, taking away all of the contact points in one singular move. 
You turn to face him with your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes already beginning to sting with rejection whenever the door opens. 
You turn your head, both stunned and grateful to see Duncan Idaho walking through, his stride strong and purposeful until he notices you standing in front of Paul. 
He takes a moment to cast his eyes between both of you. You watch his gaze flicker around the room, no doubt taking in as much information as he could, before he lands on you. 
“Didn’t know you were joining us today, Eyes.” It is no surprise that Duncan pulls on the same story from before for your nickname. Just as you have yet to let the anecdote go, he has yet to let the nickname go. 
“I’m not,” you tell him, attempting to subtly adjust your garments. It is clear that you were not as subtle as you could have been whenever Duncan eyes you up and down. You swear there is something akin to knowing on his face. 
“I was just leaving.” 
“Don’t leave on my accord. Paul could use more of a challenge, isn’t that right?” Duncan smiles teasingly and finally looks at your stepbrother. You do the same. 
(You are surprised to see that Paul does not look as flustered as you anticipated him to. You hope you did not pull the short stick.)
“Oh … yes.” Paul turns to face you with a smile similar to Duncan’s on his lips. “Join us … little sis.” The term of endearment sounds foreign coming from him. That is not the only reason why it makes you cringe. 
You understand that both of them are making a joke at your expense. There have been a few times where you foolishly joined Duncan and Paul during their sessions, only to get knocked on your ass by Paul and goaded into getting back up by Duncan. The cycle would continue until you could do nothing but lay in bed the next day, praying for a speedy recovery so you would not waste a day that could be spent in Paul's presence. 
Now that you live here, that one issue would be taken care of. Still, you prefer to be able to comfortably move around without bruises and aches restricting your movement. 
Although your mind is already made up, you cannot help but attempt to defend yourself. 
“Who says I haven’t gotten better?” 
Paul smirks. You both know that while you have improved, he has too. He will always be ahead of you. The compromising position you were in only a few minutes ago serves as proof. 
“Have you?” Duncan asks. 
Your reply comes in the form of dismissal, which you do as politely as you can, adding only slight annoyance to your tone that you could only display in the presence of Duncan and none of the other members of House Atreides. 
“Enjoy yourselves. Paul, I’ll see you at dinner.” 
Paul nods once and then you leave with the boisterous sound of Duncan’s laughter escorting you out. 
Dinner is much like breakfast. 
Duke Leto joins this time, which allows for much more conversation. But the stiff and tense air still permeates the dining room. It takes you half of your entree to decipher exactly where the energy is coming from, but it is so clear once it is revealed that you cannot help but beat yourself up over your previous confusion just a bit. 
Different from earlier in the morning, your mother sits at the head of the table with Duke Leto on the other end. Lady Jessica has been casted off and forced to sit across from you and Paul. She appears uncomfortable in the seat, constantly readjusting herself between quick statements that clearly express her discontent at the new arrangement. 
You would have focused more on the dramatics of your family dinner table if Paul were not toying with you beneath it. 
You are incredibly thankful that he kept his hands to himself, but his feet are just as insistent. Just as restless. 
They poke against yours constantly, not in an attempt to gather your attention as you would consistently send looks his way. Never were they returned. He would either be discussing his day with his father, talking to either of your mothers, or focused on the diminishing food on his plate. 
There were a few occasions where you thought Paul’s actions were accidental. You would draw your foot back, but when his covered toes found yours once more, you knew it to be another one of his games. It was juvenile and childish, but you found yourself allowing it to happen. 
You would take any form of Paul’s touch, so long as it did not compromise too much. 
You repeat your philosophy in your mind over and over again like the sayings of the Bene Gesserit whenever Paul approaches you. 
You stand in the center of your bedroom in your night clothes. Your curtains are still open, exposing the vast nothingness that the sea presents itself as since the sun has set. The stars twinkle above, and you had already prepared yourself for a night of tracing constellations before Paul entered. 
He stands in front of you, dressed just as down as you are. His hair is still a little wet from bathing, and you briefly recount the many times you played with the curls until they began to dampen and eventually dry. Each time, his hair would look unkempt in the mornings, but Paul never cared. He claimed that his hair was just a reminder of the night he spent with you. 
You would pretend to be unaffected by his sweet talking, only to flush at the memory of his words later in the day. 
“Are you listening to me, my star?” His words pull you from your senseless daydreaming. 
“What was that?” 
Paul’s lips tug up in the corners as he dips his head for a moment. When he looks at you once more, he takes a step closer. 
You knew why he was here in the first place, but the advance of his hand reaching for your waist still has your breath hitching. 
“I was wondering if you would let me have a taste of you.” 
He stares at you, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, you are losing yourself as you continue to look into his eyes, analyzing the way his long and dark eyelashes add depth to them for the millionth time. 
Eventually, the raise of his eyebrows cue you. 
“Paul,” you start with a soft tone, an attempt to keep it neutral. But Paul knows you just as well as you know him. Possibly even better. 
He senses the impending rejection woven in just the syllables of his name. 
He sighs. He pulls you closer by your hips. He rests his forehead against yours and presses his hands into your lower back. 
He says your name. No, he breathes it. His breath hits your lips before you part them. With his next exhale, you inhale. The pattern continues until Paul prepares to speak, but you interrupt him. 
“She knows.” 
You do not have to specify exactly who you are talking about. 
Paul sighs again, this time as if he is defeated. 
“Of course she knows. My mother is all knowing, didn’t you know?” He speaks with faux amusement. He’s lighthearted, and the emotion is completely misplaced. 
“We can’t go back to doing this, Paul.” 
He begins to speak over you, but you continue. 
“Paul, we can’t. No. No. It’s too dangerous. It’s too–”
“We can. Yes, we can, my star. Look at me–” 
You do as told, removing the touch of your foreheads from the others to look at each other head on once more. 
“What are you so afraid of?” 
The question is so simple. The answer is, too. It is one you have run over in your head day in and day out since moving in just a few months ago. It is the same response you reminded yourself of whenever Paul would touch you, even if it were just an accidental graze of his knuckles against yours. 
The difficulty comes with admittance. 
But in the safe confines of your bedroom, with nothing but the moon, stars, and sea as a witness, you open your mouth. 
“I’m afraid of losing you.” 
Paul shakes his head gently, sending little water droplets flying. 
“You will never lose me. You know that.” 
“Yes, I will, Paul.” 
“No. Why would you say that? We live together now. We’re bound together.” 
It takes a moment to wring yourself out of Paul’s touch, and when you do, he keeps his hands suspended in the air without making any attempts to straighten his posture. He looks dejected. 
You approach your window, staring off into the distance as you say, “Exactly. We are bound together in ways that will never reach marriage. We cannot get married.” 
Paul’s footsteps are near silent as he approaches you. 
“Does that mean you cannot be mine and I cannot be yours? What we have will always transcend marriage, my star.”
When you do not bother to respond, there is a resounding thud. 
You look to your side to find Paul on his knees before you. You, the bastard daughter, have brought the heir of House Atreides to his knees. Like this, with the low lighting in your bedroom reflecting the highest points of his cheekbones and emphasizing the valleys along the plane of his face, it is easy to remind yourself that Paul Atreides is just as much of a bastard as you. 
You two are in this together. Why should you not be together as well?
You are already planning to accept when he begs. 
“Please? Just one taste and I will let you be if that is what you wish. You have my word.” 
Typically, Paul is a man of his word. When you were kids and you accidentally knocked over a vase, a gift from another of the houses, Paul never told a soul just as he promised. When you had the tiniest crush on Duncan and let Paul in on the secret, he never told. He had given you his word both times. 
It is this time when you first are made aware of Paul’s capacity for dishonesty. 
Either way, you lift the skirt of your nightgown. 
Paul fits between your legs without much difficulty at all. While it may have been a while since you allowed yourselves this delicacy, it is as easy as breathing to return to the routine. 
Paul begins to lick and suck at your essence with appreciation derived from deprivation. His hands press into the fat of your backside, either to hold you steady or keep you flush against him. In any case, you are securely pressed against Paul’s mouth and he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon. 
You feel similarly, throwing your leg over his shoulder and digging the heel of your foot into the defined muscles of his back. Your hand presses against the glass plane beside you when Paul puckers his lips and sucks along your clit. 
The position calls for some maneuvering. You bend your standing leg, then grip Paul’s curls with your freehand, pulling him just a little closer to your center. His tongue has slid down to your hole and bringing him closer has bumped his nose against your clit. The bud catches the ridge of it, and you shamelessly run your hips side to side in an attempt to catch it again. Paul, noticing your efforts, does it for you. 
He grabs your ass just a bit tighter, adjusting your robes with one hand before returning to his handfuls, and then he shakes his head just enough to provide the stimulation you were searching for. He dips his tongue into your entrance, brings it back out, and repeats the movement. Coupled with the alternating shake of his nose against your clit, and your recent abstinence, you are close sooner than you would have preferred. 
You sacrifice your minute control over him when you free his hair from your hands, and instead imprison the linen fabric of your gown within your grasp. You pull your garb up, scrunching the fabric into your hand to get a look at Paul. 
When his eyes are revealed, they are already casted up towards you. They crinkle at the corners as if he is smiling at you, and the shape you feel against your cunt is confirmation. When he peels away from you there is a visible erotic sheen across his lips. 
“I forgot how good you taste.” 
He speaks to you casually, in a fashion to the conversations of nonsensical small talk you had been subjected to earlier in the day. 
For some reason, this makes your head spin. 
You nudge your hips back in Paul’s direction and he does not have to be told to return to work. 
There is so much slip and slide between your legs that you cannot tell what is your arousal and what is his saliva. The combination of fluids multiples whenever Paul slides a finger in your entrance, slinking it along your insides before he finds the spot. He pays extra attention to it, watching you as he slips another finger in to join it without much time in between. 
You have not been aware of the volume of your moans until Paul begins to flick your clit with his tongue, after which a croaky sound slips past your lips and it is entirely too loud for the circumstances. 
Your hand slaps over your mouth before you can stop it. 
Paul shakes his head, removing his lips from you but not his fingers. He chastises you. 
“Don’t do that to me, my star.” 
That is all he has to say for you to remove your hand and continue to let the sounds that encourage him spill out. 
(Luckily, your sleeping quarters exist further away from the other’s.)
It is only a few more moments before your lower abdomen tenses and an orgasm seizes control of your body without much warning in advance. You grip your robes for stability, press your fingers into the glass of the window, and keep Paul close with your leg wound around his shoulders. 
He had no intention of leaving at all. He continues to lick at you, now incorporating a loud slurp that is seemingly intended to clean you up.
When the twitching of your muscles has ceased, both of your feet have rejoined the floor for only a minute before Paul has your legs wrapped around his waist. 
He carries you off towards your bed. 
“May I continue?” he asks as he lays you on your back at the foot of the furniture. 
There is no hesitation when you tell him, “Please do.” 
You heard the hushed whispers echoing throughout the hall, spreading information that should have solely remained private to your personal quarters.
"They appear to be close. Too close," came from the voices of your maids, spoken with excitement as the thrill from sharing tales that did not concern them flooded their bodies. Like always, they were in small huddles, bodies curved into each other, their postings abandoned as they assumed that no Atreides would be wandering the halls at this house.
Except you were.
Your lightweight garbs noiselessly tap against your ankle with each careful step, freed from the extensive jewelry you were usually kept in throughout the day. As of late, your mother has been presenting you as a jewel in an attempt to delude the Houses into forgetting that you are a bastard. House Atreides wanted for you to be seen as the potential for great alliances. 
Paul was presented the same.
Marriage became the topic of conversation more often, and you and Paul played the parts you needed to. 
You played the parts necessary to continue this. 
His door is cracked just enough for you to silently slip in. 
“They were talking about us again.” The lack of romance within Paul’s greeting words do not matter as much when his hands wind around your hips. 
Still, you can’t help but tease him just a bit. Your hands find his shoulders, palms easily gliding back until you can comfortably tug at his dark curls. 
“Could you at least tell me you missed me before we dive into Castle gossip? What happened to romance, Paul?” 
He smiles at you like he had been expecting you to say something along those lines. He leans in, pressing his lips to your cheeks and then your nose.
“Hello, my love. How I’ve missed you so. I have no idea how I lasted this long without you.” He is exaggerating. It has only been a couple of days since you and Paul last met into the hours of the night. 
You scoff and gently slap his shoulders. You do not bother hiding the effect of his words on you. 
“I heard the maids talking on my way down here.” You dive into repeating the words echoing around the concrete castle walls, but the way Paul looks at you is distracting you. His green eyes plainly flicker from your eyes to your lips, back and forth, back and forth, with a speed that says he does not want to be caught in the act. His lips, slightly chapped but no less appealing, are parted, allowing his tongue to briefly appear before disappearing back into his mouth. 
You let your words taper off. 
“You can kiss me, you know.” 
He nods once. When he speaks, his voice is a gentle whisper. “I know. I just didn’t want to interrupt you.” 
“Luckily I’m done now.” 
Paul kisses you with familiarity. 
You knew that no matter what, you and Paul would be married off to others. But in your deluded mind, you figured that you might as well have fun while you could. You might as well pretend that Paul Atreides was yours, and you were his, until eventually that would be forced to change. 
2K notes · View notes
zylev-blog · 4 months
Text
Danny and Sam were enjoying a date out in Metropolis when it happened. Superman had been mind controlled again, and was taking hostages. Neither Danny or Sam were worried, and were amongst the only people not running for their lives. They just sat outside the cafe, sipping their coffee and eating their food. As the ground began to rumble, they simply picked their coffee cups and held them in their hands to not spill the coffee within.
“So then Tucker says, ‘not my pda!’” Danny finishes, laughing along with Sam.
“I swear, he loves that thing more than life!” Sam laughs.
That’s when they heard it. The sunlight outside got a shade darker, and Sam and Danny turned to see the outline of Superman hovering in front of them. They both glanced at him, then at each other.
With a loud sigh, Danny out down his coffee. “Can you move a little to the left, Superman? You’re blocking the sunlight.”
Without warning, Superman reached out and grabbed Sam, who was closer to him. Sam grunted out in surprise as she was lifted into the air by her neck. Danny looked unconcerned.
“Seriously?” Sam asked, gesturing at Superman. “You’re going to ruin my necklace.”
“I don’t think he’s worried about your necklace, babe.” Danny leaned against the table, watching the encounter.
“Well, he should be!” Sam exclaimed. “I paid good money for it!”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible. We can just buy you another one once he stops choking you.”
“It’s not really like he’s going to get anywhere.” Sam agreed.
Superman seemed to take offense to this. His grip on her neck tightened, and while Sam’s face did flush red, she wasn’t gasping for breath or having her neck snapped.
“You remember the other day when I said Black Canary could strangle me and I’d be happy about it?” Sam asked, her voice a little breathless.
“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, wondering where she as going with this.
“I like Superman choking me better. He would probably be better at it than a human.” Sam grinned at the Kryptonian.
“Shouldn’t he at least buy you dinner first?” He asked.
“You know, most boyfriends don’t talk so freely about their girlfriends being choked by other guys.” Sam pointed out.
“You’re right.” He agreed.
“But this is getting kinda weird. Superman, do you mind letting me go? This isn’t really working for me anymore.” Sam pointed to the ground.
A large crowd had started to gather around them. Some looked horrified, while others looked curious. Curious at Sam, who hadn’t died yet. Superman made no moves to remove his hand from her neck.
“Hey babe?” Sam asked.
“Yeah?” He took another sip of his coffee, completely calm.
“Can you record me beating up Superman so we can send it to your sister?”
“Why her?” He tilted his head.
“Little sister.” Sam clarified.
“Ohh. Yeah, sure, she’d love that.” He took a second and pulled his phone out—a latest WayneTech model. “Go for it.”
Sam wrapped her hand around Superman’s, and with an audible snap, broke his hand and pulled it off of her neck. Superman gasped in pain, but Sam wasn’t done yet. She proceeded to judo flip him and send him crashing to the Earth while she continued to hover in the air. She clapped her hands together and cracked her knuckles.
“This is going to be fun.” Sam grinned wickedly.
“You know, I could just touch his temple and cure him of the mind control.” He offered, but continued to record Sam.
“Don’t spoil my fun.” Sam flipped him off, then dove towards the ground. She kicked Superman in the nuts, then kneed him in the face hard enough to draw blood. She punched him a few more times until he fell unconscious.
Danny got up and stopped the recording. He walked over to his girlfriend and looked at the unconscious Superman. He bent over the man and pressed a finger to the man’s temple. Blue power briefly illuminated Superman’s skin, but it was gone as quickly as it came.
“You’re going to cause trouble for us.” He chastised her.
“But you love it.” Sam took his hand. “Let’s go home.”
She flew into the air first, but Danny took another second to dig into his wallet, leaving a $20 bill on the table they were sitting at. He then flew into the air after Sam, chasing her all the way to Amity Park.
—————
Six months later, and Danny and Sam were on another outing in Gotham when they were interrupted by Batman. They pulled a chair up for him, and eventually the man took it. They ordered him a coffee and a bagel.
“So, what brings you here?” Danny asked casually.
“How did you defeat Superman?” Batman asked, straight to the point.
“Huh?” Sam asked. “When did we do that?”
“Six months ago.” Batman responded.
“Ohh, wait— remember the day we went to Metropolis?” He hummed.
“Oh. I already forgot about that. Superman’s not pressing charges, is he?” Sam asked. “I do have a good lawyer, he’s just an asshole to deal with.”
“No, he is not pressing charges.” Batman grunted.
“Then what’s this about?” He asked, tilting his head.
Without answering, Batman opened a box on his lap. At once, the kryptonite took effect of both Sam and Danny, making their skin turn green and to writhe in pain. Just as Danny was about to take the box from Batman by force, the man had closed the lid and tucked it away.
“I had my suspicions.” Batman said, as if that explained everything. “So how did two more Kryptonians land on Earth when the planet was destroyed thirty years ago?”
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 20 days
Text
Stay With Me
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: none
a/n: sequel to Try Me; in this one Carlos' appendix and Lando's crash happened at the same time
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"Guys, don't let him fool you. He was horrible to me when we were kids" You joked taking a sip of your beer.
"That's one big fat lie you just said" Carlos defends himself.
"I'm sorry y/n, but I just can't believe that, he's so protective of you, you know just like an older brother should be" Kika commented on your accusations.
"Well he sure wasn't like that when we were little. One time he slammed me so hard against the door that I almost broke my hip! I was bleeding!" You say making everybody's jaws drop and listen carefully to what was coming next.
"Slammed you..I didn't slam you, I pushed you a little and then you threw yourself against the door just to make me look bad" Carlos rolled his eyes at you as you mockingly mimicked his words.
"You scarred me for life! Literally! I still have a scar from the cut!"
"What cut?" Lando asks coming back from the toilet and taking a seat between you and Charles.
"We were just talking about how Carlos was violent towards me when we were kids..so much that I have a visible scar because of him!" You explain.
"Oh the one on your right hip?" Lando blurts out and at that moment everyone falls silent staring at the two of you.
It was a calm relaxing night. Kika, Pierre, Charles, Carlos, Lando and you were hanging out on a yacht. You were drinking a little, talking, laughing, the music was playing in the background and you were all enjoying a race free weekend.
Somehow you got on the topic of your and Carlos's childhood so you decided to tell them some interesting stories. Lando didn't know about the story you just told them, but of course he saw the scar on your hip the first time he saw you naked. He traced it with the tips of his fingers and even kissed it before going down on you multiple times..
"How would you know that she has a scar on her right hip?" Carlos asks furrowing his eyebrows at him. Your breath caught and your heart rate quickened. No one said a word waiting with wide eyes for one of you to give an explanation.
"I-I.." Lando stammered glancing at you. Both of you were so caught off guard that you didn't know with what lie to come up with. You kinda knew there was no going back from this now. There was no point in lying actually because none of them were stupid. Everybody knew how he must've found out, but still, you couldn't believe your brother was going to find out this way about you two.
"Are you sleeping with my sister?" Carlos growls angrily clenching his hands.
"Carlos, calm down okay? I can explain-" Lando tries, but is soon cut off by Carlos getting up from his seat and gripping the collar of Lando's shirt.
From a pleasant and relaxing evening, things quickly got out of hand. Kika and you both let out a scream as Carlos pounced at Lando and Charles and Pierre quickly intervened pulling Carlos away.
"Carlos, stop!" You shout your chest quickly rising up and down as you stood in front of Lando who put his hands on your shoulders to calm you down because he could feel how scared you were.
"What are you doing?! Get your hands off her!" But Carlos was seeing red. He was so angry that one of his friends disobeyed his rule about staying away from his little sister.
"Stop it right now! Yes, Lando and I have been seeing each other for quite some time now and there's nothing you can do about it!" You declare confidently, but quickly blinking to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. You were disappointed and embarrassed with the way he overreacted. He acted as if Lando was a drg dealer or something not his friend. You always knew all Carlos wanted was to protect you and your feelings, but this was completely unnecessary.
"Estas loca o que?!" Carlos snaps at you. "There's no way I'm gonna approve of that!" Are you crazy or what?
"I don't care! You don't get to tell me what to do with my life! Stop treating me like a child! I don't need you to protect me!" You bark back frustration bursting out of you. "Besides, Lando is your friend! What is wrong with you to act like this?"
"Baby, calm down, please.." Lando mumbles quietly, but loud enough that Carlos hears him too.
"This..this is the last time you see her. I don't ever want you around her ever again."
But of course it wasn't like that. You weren't even thinking about breaking things off with him. You two cared about each other way too much to let it all go to waste. Although you agreed to let the situation settle down a bit so you didn't see each other for 2 weeks, until the next grand prix in Las Vegas.
You missed him. You weren't used to not seeing him for more than 3-4 days, and now it's been more than 10 days since you last saw each other. You missed his touch, you missed his kisses, his warm hugs that always made everything bad go away. And he missed you too, even more than he thought he would. He realized in that relatively short period of time that he doesn't want to be without you anymore. He also realized that, to him, nothing will ever make sense if you're not there.
You took the opportunity and went with Carlos to Las Vegas to be as close to Lando as possible even though Carlos never let you out of his sight. Since Carlos got his appendix removed two days before the grand prix, he wasn't able to race so you two were following the race from the Ferrari garage.
You were feeling kinda strange that day. You couldn't explain it, but your gut feeling was telling you that something was just off that day.
You had a great need to go to Lando before the start of the race and tell him how much you miss him and how much you are in love with him. But since you didn't want to cause problems with your brother who came out of the operating room two days ago and was still in pain, you decided to keep everything you desperately wanted to say to yourself.
Everything about your gut feeling became clear as a day when while following the race you saw a McLaren car snap out of control and heavily crash on the third lap of the race.
Your heart dropped and your legs went numb looking at the screen before you.
"No.." You whisper to yourself putting your hands over your mouth and turning to your brother who went pale. "Is-is that Lando?" You ask, your voice breaks as Carlos pulls you to him and wraps his arms around you.
"Shh, he's going to be fine, okay? Everything's going to be alright." Carlos eyes were stuck on the screen as he was comforting you rubbing your back and you cried into his chest.
All the worst possible scenarios went through your head at that moment. The very fact that you could lose him scared the life out of you and you didn't even get to call him yours yet. You couldn't bear it.
"I need to see him. I want to be by his side." You said and Carlos just nodded. All the anger and rage quickly evaporated from him when he saw his best friend crash.
When Lando was taken for precautionary checks in the University Medical Center, you were in his driver's room pacing back and forth waiting for him or any kind of information about him. And then finally, after what seemed like years later, there he was entering the room after being told that you were there waiting for him.
"Lando.." You stopped in tracks at the sight of him in front of you before running into his arms. "You scared me so much you don't even know.." You said leaving gentle kisses over his cheeks, jaw and lips.
"I'm here, baby, it's okay" He said burying his face into the crook of your neck inhaling your scent as his arms tightened around you.
"I missed you, I missed you so much.." You say sobbing.
"I missed you too. I couldn't concentrate on anything, I just kept thinking about you the whole time" He admits looking deep into your eyes wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "Will you stay with me tonight?"
He didn't even have to ask. There was no force that would separate you from him anymore. From now on it was two of you together through everything and anything.
"I'll stay with you forever, baby" You smile softly as he leans his forehead against yours.
"I'll hold you to that"
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lovebugism · 3 months
Note
Hi!! I an so obsessed with your writing and characterization. Congrats on one year!! Can i request something for Steve?
Prompt:”i didnt realise we still weren't..."
Where someone asks reader and Steve how long theyve been together, Steve thinks theyd been dating this whole time, reader is confused cause Steve never asked her! Best friends to lovers and theyre both a little clueless. Thank you!!
i changed up the prompt a bit but i hope you like it :D — jim and joyce force you and steve to have an important talk about your relationship (established relationship-ish, also best friends to lovers-ish, fluff, 0.9k)
“Does it feel any better now?” Steve asks, cuddled next to you on the porch swing outside the Byers’ home. He’s been wearing the same worried glint in his honey eyes since the sun went down — when he tried to give you a piggyback ride and then slipped in the mud. He broke your fall for the most part, but your ankle got caught underneath him.
You nod, then grimace when you try to twist your foot. “Sorta…” you shrug.
“Have I said I’m sorry yet?” he jokes with a scrunch to the bridge of his chiseled nose.
“Only a billion times.”
“Well, I’m gonna make it a billion and one now. ‘Cause I’m sorry.”
“I’ve already said it’s okay,” you assure with a giggle, leaning over to knock your shoulder against his. “It doesn’t even feel that bad anymore. I swear.”
“I’ll kiss it better when we get home,” he offers, just to make you get all shy. His soft smirk widens to a fuller beam when his ploy works. “I mean, you are staying over tonight, right?”
“Of course,” you shrug. “How else are you gonna kiss my sprained ankle better?”
“Touché.”
He leans in for a kiss. The tip of his nose just barely grazes the side of yours when the screen door shrieks open. The Talking Heads playing from inside grows suddenly louder, then muffles again when the door shuts. Jim and Joyce stumble out together — eyes glassy and cheeks flushed, obviously not totally sober.
The woman pops a cigarette between her pink lips. Hopper lights it for her. “You know… I’ve already booked the reservation for Enzo’s,” he tells her lowly. His back faces the two of you, totally unaware of your presence and blocking any view of you.
“Oh,” she hums sarcastically, blowing smoke from her lungs. “Is that right?”
“Yep. So either I sit there all alone with my chee-anty, or you come and keep me company,” Jim lilts in a quiet, honeyed tone. “And if that doesn’t sound like a good time, then maybe the bottomless breadsticks will win you over.”
Steve leans against your shoulder. His mouth rests outside your ear. “Do you think they know we’re out here?” he asks.
You raise a silent hand with a pointed finger, shushing him without saying a word.
Joyce giggles like a teenage girl. “Look. I don’t even know if I like you,” she teases.
“But you’re thinking about it, right?” Hopper wonders, with all the hope of a schoolboy asking out a girl way out of his league. “‘Cause you should.”
Steve shifts. The porch swing squeaks. Both parents turn to face you, features softly agape. Jim blinks once. “You guys been sittin’ there the whole time?” he asks in a strangled voice.
“Enough to hear you groveling,” you answer.
“Alright…” he grumbles half-heartedly.
“The bottomless breadsticks are actually pretty good, Joyce,” Steve chirps obliviously, smiling wide and flitting his eyes between the two standing across the porch. “But, you know, if she doesn’t wanna go with you, Chief, I’m always available—”
“Okay, let’s go around back,” Hop announces, guiding Joyce down the steps with a hand curled gently around her elbow. The woman giggles when you whistle suggestively at them. Jim shouts at you over his shoulder. “Watch it! And ice that ankle when you get home!”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Harrington, don’t let her walk on it,” the man sighs, already exasperated. “Be a gentleman, alright? Give your girl a day’s bed rest, dote on her or whatever—”
“Oh, we’re not— I’m not his girlfriend,” you correct with a forced laugh.
Your words seem to take Steve by surprise. He flashes you a look, scruff features swirled with confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re not dating, Steve.”
He scoffs an awkward laugh, brows pinching. “You’re joking, right?”
“Well, this is awkward,” Jim mumbles, grateful he’s not the butt of the joke for once.
Joyce slaps his arm. “Hop.”
“We’re gonna go,” the man announces, heading towards the backyard. “Have fun with… this.”
Steve waits until they’re gone to face you fully. He turns on the swing until his knee brushes the outside of your own. The hurt puppy expression on his face hasn’t quite ebbed. “You don’t think we’re dating?”
“You do?” you retort.
“Yes!” Steve shouts, talking wildly with his hands. “Our first date was at Enzo’s! I brought you flowers and everything!”
“You never asked me to be your girlfriend, Steve—”
“I thought it was implied!”
“—I thought you didn’t wanna be, like, official with me or something!”
Steve goes suddenly silent. His chest starts to ache like there’s a fire rising behind his ribcage. He swallows hard. “Have you been… Have you been seeing other people?”
“No!” you answer instantly, face twisted in abhorrence of the thought. “Of course not!”
“Okay. Good,” he nods, raking a hand through his wild hair and settling again. “‘Cause I haven’t either, so… We’ve basically been dating this whole time.”
You meet his smile with a playful glower. “You still shouldn’t asked me, though.”
“Well, I’m asking you now,” he announces and wraps an arm around your shoulder. He leans in until you can smell the birthday cake and soda on his breath. You don’t notice until now that your lipstick is smeared on his mouth. “Do you wanna be girlfriend-boyfriend with me?”
You purse your lips to the side with a playful hum. “Mm. I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, c’mon!”
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notanactressyayy · 1 month
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—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—
pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader
summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.
warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.
notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!
(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)
divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^
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You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.
You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.
Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.
To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.
Friends.
The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.
You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.
It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.
So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.
Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.
"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"
She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."
"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."
"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."
"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"
Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.
"Natasha."
"Yeah?"
"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.
Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"
"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."
"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.
"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."
"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.
"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.
"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"
"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."
"Just what?"
The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.
The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.
You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."
"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.
She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.
Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.
"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"
The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.
"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."
"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.
Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.
"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"
"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"
You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."
She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."
"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."
Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.
You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."
Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.
She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.
"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."
Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.
The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.
"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."
"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."
"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.
Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.
"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.
You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.
"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."
"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"
"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.
"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.
"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."
Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.
The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.
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