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kalims · 1 year ago

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he's a ten but he...

premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.

characters. dorm leaders

content. gender neutral reader

malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)

"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"

"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"

he blinks, then shrugs.

like i said, has NO sense of space.

if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.

if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!

cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.

if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.

(I wish I could be that unbothered.)

lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.

^ totally has his own album full of pictures.

if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯

since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.

while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)

"child of man, have you slept?"

*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.

"WTF."

not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?

idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')

user: where tf r u??

ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?

user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES

unintentionally stood you up 💀

you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.

ghoul666: we do??

user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.

ghoul666: NO PLS

ghoul666: HELLO????

next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.

in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭

though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...

big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(

with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.

if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.

ghoul666: can we not go there

user: 😐

user: you are testing my patience love

ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)

ghoul666: how abt

ghoul666: mimic together? call

user: sighs

user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you

queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.

the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.

"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.

unsurprisingly does carry you.

asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)

vil (frets over you way too much.)

"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"

"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"

"I love you but please give it back—"

"I love you too, and no."

disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)

looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!

and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..

*shows up literally half an hour in*

why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)

vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.

oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..

you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.

if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!

you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.

"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"

you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)

vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."

you sigh.

"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."

vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."

"... I feel offended."

"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."

after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.

the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)

epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)

"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"

"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."

rook giggles away.

kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)

"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?

you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.

"a gift!"

"wait why does it say lot 111--"

as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.

but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..

fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.

after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.

"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"

"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."

if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...

( ^ it is btw.)

kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.

he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)

you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?

the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.

was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.

bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.

even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.

"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"

"for them! ;D"

"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"

"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"

you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...

(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')

azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)

"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."

"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"

"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."

pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.

now he won't go last 50!

ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.

last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.

love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.

but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*

but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.

who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..

yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.

they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.

one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?

...

they do look like they've seen some though..

jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)

long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.

"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.

azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"

he praises himself for his quick thinking.

COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)

then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.

it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.

you screech. "JADE PLEASE."

the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."

"AZUL."

"... only on a condition of course."

frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.

'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'

actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?

leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)

"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."

"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."

"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."

to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.

there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.

rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.

and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?

leona's work no doubt.

you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.

if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.

at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.

it goes something like;

"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."

a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.

you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.

...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.

"because you care about me?"

"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"

you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"

he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."

...

see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.

next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.

"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.

"really?" <- you, confused

riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)

“I'm just a little busy.”

“I understand,” riddle says.

“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.

“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…

“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point.

for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.

that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)

you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.

he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.

but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.

…busy…

riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.

somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.

“THIS IS ABSURD.”

and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)

that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.

everyone noted to steer clear.

and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’

“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.

he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)

guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite.

“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.

“i thought you were busy.” he adds.

your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.

he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile.

“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”

“no!”

silence.

“no.” he repeats, weaker.

“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?”

he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”

you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”

so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,

so cute…….

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multiipl · 2 years ago

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He doesn’t know what updog is...

#*; you know I will really break his legs » CRACK.#*; This is Thancred » ic | Thancred #*; we can't stop time » queue

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enwoso · 25 days ago

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victory tastes like… | alessia russo (18+)

honestly got a bit carried away icl.. but this is an 18+, contains top!alessia, bottom!reader, swearing, oral (r receiving) fingering (r receiving) thigh riding (a receiving), dirty talking, a lot of build up, teasing, nipple play? i think, and more. buckle up its a long one:)

masterlist

alessia strides through the afterparty like she owns the night — and maybe she in a way does. a victorious beauty, radiant in the low light, her hair twisted into a messy bun that somehow makes her look even more effortless. her toned legs, on full display in a pair of barely-there denim shorts, catch more than a few eyes. but hers? they were locked on you.

you see her way before she reaches you, that smug, post-win glow clinging to her like perfume. she's flushed from champagne and the high of victory, lips already curled into that cocky grin that never fails to make your knees a little wobbly.

alessia doesn't hesitate, slipping through the crowd of her teammates and family members who are all dancing and singing proudly.

alessia with a predator's grace found you, a colourful cocktail in your hand as you lingered closer to the back of the group as alessia is pulling you into her.

her arm wind tightly around your waist, her body warm against yours, and her champagne flute clinks softly as it brushes your side.

"missed you," she murmurs, it slightly raspy from the amount of singing she'd done throughout the night. her lips skimming your ear, her voice a sultry purr.

you hum a soft laugh, trailing your fingers over the waistband of her shorts, slowly, deliberately your touch featherlight. teasing.

"missed me?" you echo, voice laced with mischief. "you've had your hands all over me all night, less. thought you might've gotten bored by now."

alessia pulls back just enough to give you a look — playful, dangerous. "don't tempt me," she murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips, then lower. "you're the one wearing my shirt, my name on your back, baby. what did you think would happen?"

you tug at the collar of it, smug. "i thought you might behave... at least until we get to the third round of sweet caroline."

alessia laughs, a soft, disbelieving sound, before her fingers slip under the hem, brushing the skin at your hip, nipping slightly. "keep running your mouth, pretty girl," she warns, her tone lazy, almost amused. "see where it gets you."

but you don't take that as a sign to stop if anything it makes you want to continue your teasing all the more. press her buttons more.

you shift closer, pressing yourself into her just a little too innocently, your voice honeyed as you whisper, "you gonna kiss me again, or just keep talking about it?"

her jaw clenches, her grip on your waist tightening. her eyes burn.

"you're such a brat at times," she mutters, but it's affectionate laced with tension. "are you gonna carry on messing about... or are you gonna let me take you upstairs and ruin that little attitude of yours?"

the world spins a little at her words, heat blooming low in your stomach, but you can't help the wicked grin that curves on your lips. "you always talk this big," you say, leaning in until your noses brush, "but yet i'm still here fully dressed..."

that seemed to do it.

alessia exhaled sharply, grabbing your hand in hers, and placed her champagne flute down without looking where it's ended. then she's dragging you out of the function room, ignoring the chorus of laughter and karaoke behind you coming from her teammates.

you keep teasing her, brushing your fingers along the back of her neck in the queue for the lift, leaning in just enough to let your breath tickle her skin. "bet you'd let me make a mess of you right here, wouldn't you?"

you say it soft like it nothing, just to see the flicker, the way her nostrils flare that little bit, the sharp inhale and the way her jaw clicks.

alessia doesn't respond, she knows what your doing and soon enough she knows she going to be able to have her way with you.

and then — the lift doors open.

alessia doesn't even wait for them to close before she's pressing you into the wall, the hand railing close and sharp on your back as one hand braced beside your head, the other tracing slow, promising lines along your waist.

"you've had your fun," she whispers darkly. "now it's my turn."

the lift hums softly, the world shrinking down to just the two of you, breath mingling in the tight space. alessia's lips brush against your jaw, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

alessia steps back just enough to grab your hand, fingers curling possessively around yours as she pulls you through the hallway of the fancy hotel the team was staying in. the noise around you fades, the moment narrowing to the pulse between your bodies.

the door to the room clicks shut behind you, the soft thud sealing off the outside world. alessia's bright blue eyes, darken, fierce and tender all at once as they drink you in—especially the football jersey you're wearing, a match worn one she'd given you from a few games ago. it being a little oversized on you, sleeves loose on your shoulders, the fabric heavy with her scent and the memory of the pitch.

your girlfriend's fingers trace your collarbone as she pushed you against the wall. her hands slipping beneath the edge of the jersey, warm and sure. the contrast of her touch against the rough cotton sends sparks skittering across your skin.

her hand cups the back of your neck, drawing you in until her breath brushes your lips—a low, slow promise that pulls you under.

when alessia's mouth finally meets yours, it's deliberate and searing, every inch of the kiss claiming you. her hand slides from your waist, fingertips ghosting upward, tracing the ribs beneath your shirt, lighting a fire to every nerve.

you press closer, the cool draft from the cracked window mixing with the heat of her body, until the world shrinks to the taut tension between you.

alessia pulls back just enough, breath warm against your mouth. her fingers all over you as they slip lower, tracing slow, tantalising lines along your hip bone, nails grazing just enough to make your nerves hum.

"your so pretty, my love." alessia whispers as her lips follow the path her hands set—along your jaw, the sensitive hollow beneath it. a faint, teasing lick, and you can't stop the sharp inhale that escapes from your lips.

alessia catches it with a low, wicked smile, the heat in her eyes growing. her hands settle firmly on your back, pressing herself impossibly closer.

her breath fluttering across your ear, teeth grazing your lobe, the sensation electric and consuming. slow, teasing kisses trail down your neck, each one a promise, a quiet command. every touch building the tension tighter, winding you both up like a coil ready to snap.

your hands finding her waist, pulling her closer, craving the taut strength beneath her clothes. her eyes lock onto yours, dark and fierce, sliding beneath your shirt once again, her fingers electric as they explore with a hunger that's patient and sure.

her whisper is a thread pulling you deeper: "tell me what you want baby."

you try for something cheeky, a small grin curling your lips, “you, a-always you.” you whine but before you can speak more, alessia silences you—pressing her body harder against yours, her voice low and unyielding.

"soon, baby. i promise but tonight i’m in control."

and in that moment, you head fuzzy from the amount of alcohol consumed and with the way she looked, spoke, moved you. with her hands and lips commanding every inch of you, you knew you wouldn't want it any other way.

the jersey shifts beneath alessia's touch as her hands slide higher, palms warm and steady against your stomach, until the fabric bunches at your ribs. she doesn't rush—there's no need. you're already pliant beneath her, breath coming shallow as the tension winds tighter.

alessia watches your face as she lifts the shirt, slow and deliberate, exposing inch by inch of your skin to the cool hotel air and her burning gaze. when she finally pulls it over your head and tosses it somewhere on the floor, her eyes linger—appreciating, claiming, the corners of her mouth curling like she already knows what you'll be reduced to.

her hands come back to your waist, fingers tracing the waistband of your bottoms, not dipping beneath, not yet—just the steady pressure of promise.

alessia presses forward again, hips against yours, mouth finding the slope of your neck again. each kiss lands heavier now, deeper, wetter, laced with heat and hunger.

you are trembling under her, head tipping back against the wall, exposing your throat, your chest rising and falling faster with every touch.

“le-less please, i-i need you.” you whine as her fingers trail up your side, feather-light over your ribs, then cup your chest through the thin fabric of your bra.

a sharp gasp slips from you before you can catch it—your hips twitching forward instinctively, seeking friction that she refuses to give.

you feel her smirk against your neck. "already falling apart," she murmurs. "i haven't even really touched you yet, my girl."

you let out a soft, helpless sound, somewhere between a whimper and a plea, but it only spurs her on. alessia unhooks your bra with maddening ease, too much ease, dragging the straps down your arms and casting it aside. it landing somewhere.

the air feeling sharp against your skin, your nipples already tight from want and the way her gaze roves over you—hungry, focused, reverent.

alessia kisses her way down, tongue flicking briefly over your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you jerk beneath her hands.

but when her mouth finally closes around your nipple, you arch, a strangled sound leaving your lips as your fingers twist into her blonde hair, desperate for something to anchor you.

“a-lessi—ah—please…”

but she doesn't let you take control. one of her hands clamps over your wrist, pinning it to your side as she works you over. slow, wet licks, lazy drags of her tongue daunting you almost, sucking just enough to make you tremble.

you knees go weak, and she chuckles darkly, guiding you back toward the white linen sheets of the hotel bed with calm authority, until the backs of your thighs hit the edge and you sit without thinking. you're a mess—breathing hard, skin flushed, nerves raw.

the blonde kneels between your legs, hands running slowly up your thighs. her nails scrape lightly through the fabric still clinging to your hips, and you're sure if she asked you for anything in that moment, you'd give it without hesitation.

but she doesn't ask.

alessia watches your face as she peels the rest of your clothes off—deliberate and unhurried, like she’s unwrapping something precious, something she’s earned. her eyes never leave yours, and the heat in them makes your skin flush under the low light.

you lift your hips when she tells you to, the quiet, “up for me, baby,” sending a fresh wave of want rolling through your belly. her knuckles graze teasingly between your legs as she pulls your underwear down, and a high, desperate sound slips from your throat before you can stop it.

“fuck—less…”

she smirks softly. you’re already trembling, thighs twitching under her hands as she kneels between your legs.

she doesn’t touch you where you need it. not yet.

instead, alessia’s palms settle on your inner thighs, spreading you open with gentle pressure. the pads of her thumbs rub slow, possessive circles into your skin, warm and steady, grounding you even as you start to unravel.

you're soaked. you know it. she knows it.

you can’t help it—you whimper, a breathy, broken noise that betrays how close you already are to begging.

“less… please—” your voice cracks, soft and shaking. “d-don’t tease me…”

alessia doesn’t answer—not with words anyway. her breath ghosts over your aching core, warm and maddeningly close, making your hips jerk instinctively toward her.

you let out a strangled moan, high and needy. “god—please, i can’t take it.”

alessia hums, low and deep in her throat, eyes fixed on the slick between your legs like she’s watching something sacred. “you’re dripping,” alessia murmurs, voice rough. “so wet for me, my pretty, girl.”

your head tips back, eyes fluttering shut as you let out a soft, desperate whine. “please—less, i need your mouth, i need—”

her thumbs press in slightly, keeping your thighs open, and she leans in just close enough to brush her nose against your clit without fully touching it.

you gasp, your whole body jerking.

“say it,” alessia says, calm and low. “tell me exactly what you want.”

you’re panting now, thighs shaking under her hands. “i want your mouth—i want your tongue—please, please just—fuck—less, do something—”

alessia finally lets her lips ghost over you, the barest brush of heat and wetness that makes you cry out, sharp and helpless.

“ah—oh my god—yes—yes—”

but she doesn’t stay there. alessia lifts her head again, licking her lips slowly, eyes burning as she watches the way you squirm beneath her.

“not yet,” alessia whispers, voice like velvet and smoke. “i want you to hear you beg a little more.”

she doesn't give you what you so desperately want. not yet. instead she hovers, breath warm against the aching heat between your legs, so close you can feel the way her exhale makes you twitch, your hips lifting involuntarily toward her mouth.

your writhing beneath her, every nerve lit up, skin hypersensitive from how close she’s hovering but refusing to touch you properly. your hands reach for her, one slipping into her hair, the other gripping the sheets hard enough to hurt.

“please…” your voice is barely a whisper, raw with need. “less—fuck—please, i’m going insane…”

alessia doesn’t move. your thighs twitch in her hold, and you lift your hips again, instinctive, desperate. “i need your mouth. i need you, please, i’ll do anything.”

still nothing—just her breath against you, warm and maddening.

you whimper again, louder this time. “i’m so wet for you, it hurts. i can’t take it—i need you, alessia, please touch me.”

you hear your own voice breaking, high and wrecked, and still she just watches you, so calm, so in control. it only makes it worse.

“please,” you beg again, shakier now. “i’ll be a good girl —just please, please, don’t make me wait anymore—”

another quiet, desperate whimper escapes you before you can stop it. alessia's eyes flick up, and her mouth curls into a slow, dangerous smile. "that's better," she murmurs.

then finally, her mouth meets you where you need her most.

the first lick is slow—broad, deliberate. alessia moans low against you, the sound reverberating deep in her throat like she’s finally getting a taste of something she’s been craving for far too long. her mouth is hot, her tongue languid and sure as it slides through you, and you shudder violently, legs falling open wider without resistance.

“fuck,” you whisper, already breathless.

alessia’s hands slide beneath your thighs and hook around, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed, locking you in place. her grip is firm—commanding. there is no escape, not that you want one. alessia groans again, rough and needy, the vibrations shooting straight through your core.

“your mine,” alessia murmurs, voice low and wrecked as she glances up at you. “so fuckin’ pretty like this.”

alessia dips back down, and then she’s everywhere—tongue pressing in slow, languid strokes, tracing every slick inch of you with devastating control. she savors it, each movement precise, almost reverent, like she’s tasting your pleasure more than her own. your hips stutter, but alessia just tightens her grip, nails biting into your skin as she holds you still.

“stay there, baby,” she says, breath warm and ragged against you. “let me take my time.”

your fingers tangle in the sheets, desperate to anchor yourself. then her tongue flicks—quick, teasing, then swirling around your clit with a rhythm that’s maddening in its precision. you choke on a moan, head tossing back, thighs twitching against her shoulders.

“a-alessia—ah—fuck,” you gasp, voice cracking as your fingers leave the sheets and sink into her hair, gripping tight.

alessia groans again, louder this time, the sound guttural and needy. her mouth seals around you, sucking slow and deep, and you swear you can feel her smiling against your skin when you cry out.

“you love this, don’t you?” alessia breathes against your clit. “love being ruined on my tongue.”

you try to answer, to speak, but your body betrays you—all you can manage is a breathless whimper, hips jerking despite yourself. her tongue presses harder, faster, dragging a helpless moan from your lips, your thighs clamping reflexively around her.

alessia doesn’t relent. she keeps going, relentless, confident, mouth working you like she already knows every way to make you fall apart. the wet sounds between your thighs grow louder, matched only by the breathy little gasps and moans slipping freely from both of you. every sound she makes is a praise—raw, wanting, as though alessia’s addicted to the way you taste, the way you move, the way you sound.

“f-fuck—less…” you manage, voice all torn-up desire.

her grip on your thighs tightens again. “i said stay still,” she growls, low and possessive, licking a firm, deliberate stripe that makes your back arch off the mattress. “be a good girl for me.”

then her lips wrap around your clit and she sucks—hard and perfect—and your whole world snaps. your hands fly to her shoulders, grabbing at anything you can, fingers digging in as the tension coils impossibly tight.

“less—oh god, m’ close, i—fuck!”

alessia hums against you, tongue moving faster now, working you through the build with ruthless expertise. she feels it in your trembling thighs, the way your body rocks helplessly into her mouth, chasing every flick and suck like you’re starving for it.

your moans come out broken now—gasping, pleading, babbling messes of her name and barely-formed curses.

alessia’s hands grip harder, anchoring you as your back bows and your whole body strains toward release. you feel the burn rising, unbearable, unbearable—until it’s not.

“let go, baby,” alessia breathes, voice shaking from effort and lust. “let me hear you.”

and when it hits, it’s not soft—it’s a full-body surrender. your mouth drops open in a silent cry, your hips jerk wildly, and your whole body convulses as the orgasm tears through you like a wave. it’s hot, overwhelming, and all-consuming—her name falling from your lips like prayer.

but alessia doesn’t stop.

she licks you through it, slow and thorough, tongue dragging through your wetness like she’s cleaning you up, worshipping every shudder, every twitch. it’s too much. too intense. you whimper, breath hitching as your body trembles uncontrollably.

“mhm s-still sensitive,” you manage to gasp, twitching beneath her.

alessia finally pulls back, mouth slick, eyes dark and glittering with satisfaction. she looks at you like she’s never seen anything more beautiful than the way you’re sprawled on the bed—boneless, ruined, glowing.

“good girl,” she murmurs. “tasted even better than i imagined.”

alessia, licking her lips as she crawls up your body, slow and predatory, and presses her mouth to yours. you can taste yourself on her lips, on her tongue, and it makes your stomach twist with something deeper than lust—something sharp and consuming.

"think you've still got cheek left in you?" alessia murmurs, voice rough with want, hips already settling between your legs again.

you try to answer. but all that comes out is a whimper. and alessia grins. "didn't think so."

but alessia doesn't give you much time to catch your breath.

she stays right there, pressed against you, her thigh sliding between yours, the warmth of her body anchoring you as her mouth finds your throat again—biting gently now, claiming, leaving faint marks she knows you'll feel later.

her hands roaming without hesitation, familiar now in the way they map your body, coaxing little reactions with minimal effort.

your skin is oversensitive, every nerve exposed and raw, but it doesn't matter. you crave more. need more. wanted more. you feel insatiable under her—lit up and stretched thin and so completely hers.

and alessia knows it.

"you're, we’re not done," alessia breathes against your ear, hand sliding between your legs again. "not even close."

your thighs twitch in protest, but your body betrays you—already wet, already eager, already opening up for her again.

alessia kisses the corner of your mouth as her fingers slip through your slick heat, drawing a broken gasp from your lips. you try to lift your hips, but her other hand lands firm on your stomach, pinning you down.

"no," alessia murmurs. "you don't get to chase it. you take what I give you."

the command coils through you like lightning, and you whimper—eyes fluttering shut, breath catching as her fingers circle your clit in slow, maddening patterns. no pressure, not yet. just enough to make your whole body ache with the wanting, once again.

"a-alessia, please-"

alessia watches you unravel beneath her. every twist of your hips, every shaky breath, every bitten-off moan—she drinks it in like fuel.

"you look so gorgeous like this," alessia says, voice rough with arousal. "messy. needy. my name half-stuck in your throat."

you nod, useless, undone.

alessia pushes two fingers into you in one smooth, deliberate motion, and you cry out—hips bucking before her hand on your stomach pushes you back down again.

her rhythm is unrelenting—firm and deep, the heel of her palm brushing your clit with every stroke until you're practically writhing.

your fingers scrabble for something—her arm, the sheets, yourself. you can't hold anything steady. every muscle feels like it's trembling on the edge.

alessia leans in, her voice in your ear, low and deadly calm. "you're gonna cum again for me, my girl. just like this. don't hold it. let go."

you can't answer, not with proper words. just whimpers of her name. all you can do is feel—her fingers curling just right, the tight drag inside you, the steady grind of her hand, the fire building with every second until you're nothing but heat and helpless moans.

"a-ah, oh, less"

it crashes over you like a wave—harder than before. your whole body arches, eyes squeezing shut, mouth open in a desperate cry as the orgasm rips through you, sharp and all-consuming.

alessia doesn't stop right away. she works you through it, again, until your thighs shake and you're gasping and whimpering, begging with no words, just broken sounds and twitching limbs.

finally, finally, alessia slows.

her fingers slipping out of you, wet and shining, and she brings them to her mouth, sucking them clean with a quiet, satisfied hum.

before she crawls up beside you, her body warm against yours, and kisses you deep and slow—like she's sealing something between your ribs.

your legs are still trembling. your breath's ragged. your body feels like it's glowing from the inside out.

alessia smiles against your lips, fingers brushing the sweaty hair from your forehead.

"still think you could handle wearing my jersey again?" alessia murmurs. you manage the softest laugh, eyes half-lidded, voice nothing more than a wrecked whisper.

"only if i survive the night."

alessia doesn't let you drift far. she gives you a moment—just long enough to feel the tremble still working through your thighs, your chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

but her hand never fully leaves your skin. it stays there, splayed possessively across your waist, thumb stroking the curve of your hip in lazy, dangerous circles.

you're pliant beneath her, loose and wrecked, and she loves seeing you like this - maybe more than she would ever admit to anyone.

"look at you," alessia murmurs, her voice thick and low as she presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then down the column of your throat again. "completely fucked out—and i’m not even close to done with you."

the words ignite something in your gut, deep and molten. you shift slightly against her, instinctively seeking friction, heat, more—and alessia laughs, a dark, amused sound that vibrates against your skin.

"oh, you want it now?" alessia teases, hand sliding down to squeeze your thigh, her fingers dragging inward, brushing the oversensitive slick between your legs. "suddenly so greedy."

you try to answer, but the sound that leaves you is more whine than word, like it has been since she's been on top of you. your hand curls into her bicep, nails dragging faint crescents into her skin, but she's not giving you any control, not tonight.

alessia shifts, rising above you—knees straddling your thigh, her own body finally pressing close, and that's when you feel it: how wet she is. even through her shorts, the heat is unmistakable, pressed against your skin like a promise you've been aching for all night.

you glance down, dizzy with want, and catch the sharp smirk on her lips as she leans down, her mouth brushing your ear.

"you feel that?" alessia whispers. "that's what you do to me."

and then she grabs your wrist and drags your hand down between her legs, pushing your fingers hard against the soaked fabric.

"take them off me," alessia growls, voice rough with need.

your fingers shake as you obey, tugging the waistband down her thighs, breath catching when you see how wet she is—slick and flushed and so ready for you.

but before you can touch her, alessia grabs your wrists and pins them to the mattress again, her hips grinding down against your thigh, drawing a low groan from her throat.

"don't get ahead of yourself baby," alessia warns, dragging her wet heat across your skin, letting you feel how much she needs it—how close she is to unraveling, too. "this is still my game. my reward.”

and then she starts to move.

the friction is obscene—her body grinding against your leg in slow, deliberate rolls, the slick slide of her clit against your skin making your whole body tighten all over again. her breath hitches, her fingers tightening around your wrists, and you can feel how close she is to losing it.

but alessia doesn't. not yet.

alessia leans down, mouth finding yours, her kiss hungry now—open and hot and messy, tongue pressing in like she's trying to taste every sound you've made tonight. when she breaks it, her forehead rests against yours, breath mingling, both of you caught in the rhythm of her hips.

you're squirming under her, desperate for her to let you touch, to take, to give her back even a fraction of the pleasure she's given you. but she doesn't loosen her grip. alessia just keeps using you—riding your thigh like it's hers, like you are.

and fuck, you are.

your head rolls back, eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open in a low moan as her pace quickens, her breaths growing shallower.

you can hear the slick drag of her against your skin, feel every tremble as her thighs tighten around yours. "lessi-" you gasp, voice thin and breaking.

"say it again," alessia demands, voice wrecked.

"le-lessi, please”

alessia's right there. you can feel it in the way her rhythm falters, the tremble in her arms, the desperate bite of her teeth into your shoulder as her orgasm rips through her, sudden and intense.

she moans your name like it's the only thing tethering her to the world, her whole body going rigid above you, grinding hard through the aftershocks until she finally collapses against your chest—breathing hard, skin slick, still twitching with the last waves of pleasure.

you were both shaking.

“fuck..that was,, was amazing.”

you lie there in the aftermath, her weight warm and grounding on top of you, your fingers finally freed to tangle in her blonde hair, stroking her back as you come down together.

but even as her breathing evens out, you feel her smile against your skin.

"you're not going anywhere," alessia whispers, already kissing around your skin again. "i'm going to ruin you by morning."

you lie there beneath her, limbs tangled, breath catching in quiet fits as alessia's weight settles over you—warm and solid, grounding.

her skin is damp, her thigh still pressed between yours, but now her hands have softened, brushing slowly up and down your ribs in a soothing rhythm, as if trying to memorise you all over again.

"i love you and, i’m so proud of you, always.” you whisper against her head. but alessia doesn't speak at first. just kisses the hollow of your throat, then your shoulder, then the soft space just above your heart, each one slower than the last. like gratitude. like worship.

"i love you too, my girl. so much.”

and you can't help the way your fingers continue to thread into her hair, gently pulling her closer, keeping her right there.

after a long moment, alessia lifts her head, eyes meeting yours—dark, shining, a little wild still, but soft around the edges now.

"if this is what victory tastes like..." alessia murmurs, voice rough but low, "then i want to win every award possible."

you can feel the smile tug at your lips before you can stop it, the sound that escapes you somewhere between a breathless laugh and a groan.

"that your post-match speech?"

alessia grins, dipping down to press her lips just below your ear. "no, not even close."

and then her mouth is on yours again—slower this time, but no less demanding. her kiss steals your breath, like she's tasting the high of what she just did to you—and already thinking about doing it again.

her hand slides back between your thighs, teasing, coaxing your legs apart like it's second nature. you gasp into alessia's mouth, your whole body still trembling, still so tender and open—but she knows exactly how to touch you now. how to pull you right under again.

you whimper as she slips lower, heat pooling fast in your belly once more.

"i told you," alessia murmurs, voice all gravel and promise as she disappears between you thighs. "we aren't done."

and this time, when alessia's mouth finds you again, you know two things, one that your exactly where you want to be and two that you know exactly how long this night is going to be.

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witherby · 4 months ago

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I think a really cool day idea for Conner and mouse would be like the circus scene from Teen Titans were Robin let Starfire try some cotton candy and it’s really cute

I remember that scene!!! Robin's absolutely lovesick expression was so romantic to me, even back then.

I didn't replicate that one-for-one, but they're certainly at a carnival! I hope you like it!

The Littlest Wayne: Carnival

(features: established relationship, Conner Kent x gn!Reader, fluff, discussions of structures that aren't OSHA compliant, kissing)

Masterlist is Here!

"That doesn't look safe."

"None of these rides really are," you admit, queueing into the line to ride the Wave Swinger with your boyfriend. "Pop-up carnivals are designed in such a way that they can be thrown up and taken down within a day or two. You can't really afford to bolt anything down because it isn't going to be there in a week."

Conner looks at you with incredulity. He looks like he's trying not to pout, which is adorable. You barely refrain from kissing him.

"Then why are we lining up to get on one?"

"S'part of the vibe," you explain, lifting your hands for emphasis. One of them is interlaced with your boyfriend's, so his arm gets swung around, too. "You don't really go to these things to walk around and then leave again. You gotta ride a ride while wondering in the back of your mind if this is how it ends. You gotta spend way too much money playing a rigged game to win a prize that wasn't worth even a third of what you spent to earn it. You gotta eat a bunch of deep-fried foods that shouldn't be deep-fried and feel incredibly nauseated for the next two days about it. That's the real Carnival Experience™."

"This doesn't sound fun, M," Conner says. "I can take you on a flight and pretend to drop you a couple times. I can ask you for an absurd amount of money and not pay it back for like a week. I can cook you dinner and narrowly avoid giving you food poisoning. We don't have to be here."

"Trust me, it wouldn't be the same," you insist, moving up in the line. This swing ride is one of your favorites, next to The Whip, but you haven't seen one of those in a few years. "It's also the atmosphere. You're surrounded by fun, neon colors and happy strangers and screaming children — it's all part of the experience."

"Yeah..." Conner grimaces, gaze a little distant. "I could do without the screaming children."

"Oh, right," you frown, digging out a specialized pair of earbuds from your pocket and offering them to him. They help muffle out extra sensitive sounds for him, like breathing and footsteps and other people's heartbeats, so he can better control what noise he chooses to perceive. "Here."

Conner takes them, briefly letting go of your hand to put them in, then un-tenses his shoulders and offers you a thin smile.

"That's better," he admits, "but I still think getting on rides knowing they aren't bolted down properly is stupid."

"Welcome to the carnival," you grin. You both shuffle forward in the line, close enough now that you'll be able to get on next round. "You're gonna love this."

"I can fly, M. I don't think I'm gonna care."

Then it turns out he cares. He cares a lot. He actually cares so much. When you and Conner get strapped into your seats, he's white knuckling the chains keeping his chair suspended off the ground.

"You're joking. There's one little bike chain keeping me in this chair and there's a single hook on top holding me up. You're actually joking."

You start spinning and twisting around in your own chair, gleeful. "Isn't it great?"

"No??"

"Alrighty riders. Please refrain from bouncing, spinning, twisting, or yanking on the chains. When the ride is in motion do not grab onto other riders' chairs. Keep the strap secure across your waist while the ride is in motion, and do not attempt to remove it until it comes to a complete stop again. Enjoy."

Conner flinches when the chairs lift into the air. He watches the ground get pulled out from under him, shitty carnival music starting to come out of the speakers while the lights on the ride start flashing. If he weren't invulnerable, he'd be losing his mind right now. How are you able to enjoy such risky activities!? Are you insane!? Actually — you're the one civilian child to a family of crime fighting vigilantes. Of course you're insane.

He looks up to make another comment, but the words quickly die in his throat. Because you look stunning.

You look great all the time, of course. Conner loves to look at you, and you know that. But as the ride starts to spin and your chair starts swaying with the wind, you throw your head back and laugh. You spread your arms out to your sides and kick your feet, eyes closed and hair fanned out.

You're practically ethereal when you're having fun. Conner watches the colorful lights dance over your skin and feels himself falling even more in love with you than he already is. He never wants the ride to end, if it means he gets to see you like this forever.

Using the trick Clark taught him, he speeds himself up to slow the world down, giving himself more time to admire you. To you, it's just a couple minutes in the air, but to him it's hours of unbridled admiration. When you're finally lowered to the ground again, he's unlatched himself from his seat and come around to kiss you.

"Let's go find another ride," he mumbles against your lips. You smirk, victorious, and grab his hand. He's utterly helpless to do anything but trail after you.

"Knew you'd come around. It's the Carnival Experience, babe; it pulls everyone in! Never should've doubted me."

"Yeah..." He says, smiling like a lovesick idiot. It's definitely the rides and games and people making him feel this good, and not the echo of your happy heartbeat or the image of your carefree smile under the neon lights burned into his memory. "Shouldn't have doubted you."

#littlest wayne au #conner kent x reader #kon el x reader #gn reader #for real tho. those pop up carnival rides are ridiculous.#if youve been to one you know you've tripped over one of those thick-ass power cables taped to the ground.#you can knock out a whole ride by accidentally dislodging one! i know because...i did it.#sorry to those people on the spinning teacup ride.

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wlwsoccerfics · 5 months ago

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Club Support(RenéeSlegersXKyraCooneyCrossXSlegersReader)

Summary: you go to a Game to support your Mom and the team. One of the Girls Starts flirting with you without knowing who you are.

You sat in the friend and family section during the Game against Aston Villa. Your moms Team won 4-1. You were quite proud of your Mom. She was the new headcoach for Arsenal, which always happened to be your favorite Team. Altough you weren't doing anything Football related. You were a firefighter/EMT. You just turned 23 and enjoyed working out. You did Basketball as a hobby.

After the game you walked onto the field. Before you could approach your Mom a brunette showed up right in front of you.

"well hello. Who do we have here? You must have fallen from heaven cause you look like an Angel!" Kyra said with a Mix of flirting and trying to Joke. You giggled a little.

"Not am Angel. Just a firefighter & EMT." You explained. "And my Name is y/n!" You added on. Renée was watching the whole interaction from a few feet away, standing next to Steph & Leah.

"does she know she is flirting with your daughter?" Leah asked.

"nope! She wasn't there when y/n picked me up after practice last time! She was in with the Physio." Your mom answered.

"Oh little pest is in for an emotional Rollercoaster once she finds out." Steph replied with a soft chuckle escaping her lips. Both Leah & your Mom were laughing. You glanced over to them. Knowing exactly what they were laughing about.

You then return to look at Kyra who then proceeded to flirt asking if she can buy a calender of you dressed in your firefighter gear.

"you can't buy a calender but if you play your cards right i can make you one!"you told her, winking at her. The face she made when you said this was priceless and you weren't the only one thinking that cause now your Mom, Leah and Steph where joined by Lia, Alessia, Katie , Caitlin & Beth.

"oh this Is fun to watch!" Beth said. Alessia and the others couldn't help but agree.

"even as one of her best friends i have to agree with you!" Alessia answered.

"this Is comedy gold!" Katie stated.

"can i take you on a date then. Cause i am sure i can Play my cards right!" Kyra let you know.

"i love your confidence!" You answered. Waiting for a few seconds to add something to your statement. "I mean it's so bold of you to just ask me out and flirt with me while my Mom is around!" You let her know.

"where is your Mom?" She asked and looked around. "What does she look like?" Kyra wanted to know. Which was your moms queue to walk over. The Girls from her team where excited about this like it was Christmas Eve.

"i see you have met my daughter." Your mom said and smiled amused. Patting Kyras shoulder and hugging you. You hug her back.

"hi Mom!" You replied. Laughing at kyras face. She stared at the two of you, mouth wide open and her eyes looked like they were gonna fall out of her skull. She was brought back to the Moment by all the Girls laughing. Katie was bend over, hitting her knees with her fists. She absolutly lost it.

"oh pest this Is hilarious!" Steph said in between laughs. Kyra flipped her off, she was about to walk away in embarrassment but you stopped her, gently holding her arm.

"so about that Date? how about i take you out tonight? Or you could come to my place and i can cook for you!" You suggested.

"but Renée, i mean your Mom is my Coach..." She started but your mom interrupted her before things would get awkward again.

"my daughter is an adult. So are you! If you want to go on a date i am all for it as long as it doesn't affect your performance in a negative way!" Your mom told her.

"thank you! It won't!" Kyra said with a smile. You kissed her cheek.

"Take a shower and then meet me in the parking lot. I am taking you home with me right away for Dinner and a movie!" You told her. She walked past the girls, now she was the one grinning and the Girls looked quite impressed that she actually managed to get a date with you after that.

Didn't take long for you to get together and you went to almost every Game. When you weren't working of course. Wearing an Arsenal Jersey with cooney-cross written on the back of course.

#woso x reader #kyra cooney crossxreader #renee slegers x slegers reader #arsenal women x reader

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toldthatdevil · 3 months ago

Text

Little Fish

pairings: WandaNat x Little!Reader

Content: swimming lessons, first time at a water park, protective mommies, age regression

A/N: so this ask actually disappeared from my inbox and im so glad I had it saved in my notes because I really got into this one so thank you to the anon that sent it to me.

p.s if you sent in an ask and I never responded to it, it might be because it has also disappeared so feel free to send it in again!

Prompt: Hihi i dunno if this is where we request things but could you maybe write wandanat x little!reader with maybe a trip to a water park or going swimming or something please? Maybe teaching her how to swim? I can't swim and I miss summer.

It was the height of summer. The worst season ever, because it meant you were always hot and always sweaty. It was the kind of hot that made all of your clothes cling to your skin and your hair feel like a sticky mess if it wasn’t tied up properly. But today your mommies were trying to make your summer a little less awful, because today they were taking you to the water park.

The drive felt like it was taking forever. You were practically vibrating in your car seat with excitement, asking, “Are we there yet?” every five minutes, much to Natasha and Wanda’s amusement. But, finally, finally, the twisting water slides appeared in the distance, and you pressed your face against the glass, straining to get a better look.

“Someone’s excited,” Natasha smirked, catching you bouncing in the rearview mirror.

Wanda turned around in her seat, brushing your knee with her hand to get your attention. “Remember our rule, sweetheart? You stay close, and tell mommy or me if it starts to feel like too much.”

You nodded eagerly, too busy staring out the window at the water slides to answer. This was your very first time at a water park, and even though you couldn’t really swim—if at all—your mommies had promised they’d stay with you the whole time, no matter what.

Once the car was parked, Natasha helped you out of your car seat while Wanda grabbed the bags from the trunk. Together, you joined the queue to enter the park ,then made your way to the family changing room.

Inside, Wanda knelt down helping you out of your clothes and into your swimsuit. “Arms up,” she prompted gently. You obeyed with a giggle, delighted as she helped you wriggle into your swimsuit.

But then came the worst part.

“Sunscreen time,” Natasha announced, kneeling in front of you with the bottle in her hand. “Hold still, lovebug,” she said, trying to smother the cold lotion onto your skin.

“Eww! It’s yucky!” you whined, trying to squirm away. You knew sunscreen was important, but did it always have to feel so cold? You felt Wanda’s hands rest gently but firmly on your shoulders to stop you squirming even more.

“Just a little more,” Wanda soothed, bending down to kiss your cheek. “We don’t want you coming home looking like a tomato, now do we?”

You sighed and gave a reluctant nod, murmuring a soft “hm” as you finally gave in.

“And done,” Natasha said with a satisfied nod, tossing the bottle back into the beach bag.

You immediately turned scrambling toward the door, your hand already on the handle. “Can we go, can we go?”

Behind you, Wanda was half naked, she hadn’t even had time to put her bikini bra on before you opened the door.

“Hey—! Wait, wait!” Wanda gasped, fumbling to cover herself before you could swing the door all the way open exposing her. “Mama’s not trying to flash the whole water park here, sweetheart.”

Natasha chuckled from where she was folding your clothes back into the bag. “Easy, tiger,” she said with a teasing glance.

Wanda smirked as she finally got the ties of her bikini top secured.

“Ugh,” you groaned dramatically, bouncing on your heels as you waited. “Can we go now?!”

“Hm…” Wanda drew out the sound as she looked you over thoughtfully. “I don’t know… I think something’s missing.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What?”

She knelt down beside one of the bags on the floor and unzipped it.

“I have something for you,” she whispered, with a smile.

Your eyes widened as she revealed a pair of colourful armband floats and a floatie shaped exactly like your favourite animal.

“Mama!” you gasped, reaching out with grabby hands. “I love them!”

Natasha and Wanda chuckled, happy with your reaction.

“What do we say?” Natasha prompted gently, one eyebrow raised as she stood and slung the bag over her shoulder.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed in delight, throwing your arms around your mama and hugging her tightly.

————

The water park was… a lot.

It was bigger than you imagined. Louder too. You stood there hesitantly, unsure of what to do first. You watched as the other children darted past you, shrieking with laughter, water splashing everywhere. There were so many people and it all felt like chaos, which was exciting but also overwhelming.

You reached for your mommies’ hands without thinking, suddenly feeling very, very small.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Wanda murmured, sensing your nervousness. “How about we start with something gentle? We could try the lazy river, hm?”

You nodded, not entirely sure what that was but trusting your mommy’s suggestion.

You didn’t have to wait in line long before, you were settling into your brightly coloured inflatable ring. Natasha held it steady for you so you didn’t drift off, then climbed into her own once Wanda had settled into hers.

You could feel the current tugging at you gently eager to move and for a moment you were worried that as soon as Natasha let go you would be whisked away, but she didn’t. The water stayed slow and gently, carrying all three of you along.

You trailed your fingers through the warm water, watching the ripples spread. One loop around the river turned into two before you even realised, and you were secretly hoping to go around a third time but Wanda gave your ring a soft nudge.

“Alright, little fish,” she smiled, “let’s try something else?”

———

After the lazy river, you wandered through the park for a while, taking everything in from the safety of your mommies arms. They took turns giving you piggy backs when you complained that the ground was getting too hot for your bare feet. Together you looked at the wave pool, watched the bigger kids zoom down the slides that were way too tall for you, and found it particularly hilarious to watch the giant water buckets fill up and tip over, splashing water onto people’s heads.

Eventually though your tummy started to rumble.

You ate lunch with your mommies by the lagoon pool, munching on sandwiches and fruit cups. As you ate your food, you watched the other kids slide down the smaller slides nearby, eyes glued to them.

You were too small for the big slides you saw earlier, but these ones looked smaller, something you might be able to try.

“You wanna try it out, lovebug?” Natasha asked, following your gaze.

You bit your lip. You really wanted to… but it was new and that made it scary.

“I can go with you,” she offered gently. “You can sit right in my lap the whole way down.”

You looked at your mama, unsure. Wanda gave you an encouraging smile, her voice soft as she spoke. “You can do it sweetheart,” she said, her eyes warm and reassuring.

That was all you needed to hear to convince you. You nodded, but you were only going if mommy went with you like she said she would, and if mama would wait for you in the pool below.

Taking a deep breath, you started to climb the metal stairs. Natasha’s hand found yours, steadying your nerves as you climbed, but still each step forward made your heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in your belly. Natasha’s voice was soft and low beside you so only you could hear, soothing you gently. “You’ve got this, lovebug. We’re almost there.”

When you reached the top, you realised just how high up you were. It didn’t look that tall from the ground but now you were here you were unsure if you could do it at all.

You watched as Natasha sat down first on the slide, the water rushing past her. She reached out her arms for you but you stood there hesitantly. “Come on, squirt” she said.

Carefully you shuffled over to her and she pulled you effortlessly into her lap.

“Ready?” she asked, adjusting you slightly so you were secure. You gave her a nervous nod, and with your approval she pushed off gently, starting your descent down the slide.

You screamed the entire way down, clinging to her as you whooshed around the bends of the slide, cold water spraying your face. You had your eyes shut tight the entire way down, so the big splash into the pool took you by complete surprise.

You felt Natasha’s grip tighten on your waist just before bringing you up above the water.

As you wiped the water from your face and blinked your eyes open, you saw your mama waiting right where she said she’d be. In the pool, only she had a waterproof camera in hand.

“You did it, sweetheart!” she cheered, beaming. She waded over and planted a big kiss on your cheeks, making you giggle.

“Again!!” you shouted as soon as you caught your breath.

Natasha laughed. “Could you hear her screaming the whole way down?”

“I’m pretty sure half of the park heard her,” Wanda laughed.

—————

The rest of the afternoon consisted of waiting in line for the same exact slide, over and over again and running around in the splash pads.

But there was only one thing left you really wanted to try: the wave pool.

Wanda frowned slightly. “I think you might be too little, sweetheart…”

Your bottom lip wobbled. “Please, Mommy?” you whispered, turning to Natasha. You knew Natasha was much easier to convince than your mama.

Natasha sighed, and looked over at Wanda. “Maybe we give her a quick swimming lesson first?”

Wanda didn’t answer right away. She glanced between the two of you, looking at your hopeful little face made her soften, just a bit.

“Okay,” she said finally, “but I want to see you swimming like a little fish before we even think about the waves.”

—————

“I can’t do it mommy,” you whimpered, your little toes curling over the edge of the pool. Even though the water was shallow and you could see the bottom, see the toys that had sunk down there waiting to be recovered. it was still so scary.

“Yes you can,” Natasha encouraged from the water, her red hair now pulled back into a ponytail, her arms wide open for you, “you’re so brave, I know you can do this.”

“And I’m right behind you,” Wanda added, rubbing small circles on your back but your heart still felt as though it was going to beat its way out from your ribcage.

“What if I sink?” you asked in a small voice, feeling yourself slipping deeper into your headspace.

Wanda knelt beside you, taking your hands gently in hers. “Watch,” her voice was soft. She waved a hand and tendrils of her red magic rippled through the water, and a toy that had sunk to the bottom of the pool floated up into her hand. “If you go under, I’ll just bring you back to me.”

You giggled. Her magic always helped and you loved watching her use it.

“Okay,” you whispered. “But do I have to jump?”

Natasha smiled. “No, silly.”

“Come sit on the steps with me,” Wanda said, guiding you down to sit on the first step. The water lapped at your waist, and Natasha waded over to come closer to you.

“Lesson Number 1,” Natasha said, slipping into what you called her "secret spy" voice, “is learning to be friends with the water. Let’s start by splashing.”

You kicked and splashed and giggled, slowly relaxing. Natasha taught you to blow bubbles with your face partially submerged.

“That’s it, just like blowing out birthday candles.”

You watched as she showed you how to use your arms to push you forward in the water.

“Imagine you’re scooping ice cream.”

And she showed you how to float on your back without your armbands on.

Wanda sat at the edge of the pool, watching and taking pictures with her camera, occasionally giving your floatie that you had insisted on bringing with you a nudge closer with her magic, making you giggle through your nerves.

It didn’t take you long to catch on, and now you were barely holding onto Natasha. You were only using her as a guide, scared you would bump your head on the pool wall without her.

“Okay, I’m going to let go of one hand,” she warned, “but I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, determined to this. She let go and you kept going, you kept kicking and scooping and you were finally swimming!

“You’re doing it!” Wanda cheered from the side of the pool, her camera clicking rapidly.

“Mommy, I wanna try without you holding me!”

Natasha raised a brow but nodded. “Alright then squirt. Swim from me to Mama.”

You took a deep breath, scooped, kicked and swam, doing your best to go in a straight of a line as possible. You knew you’d made it when Wanda scooped you into a tight hug.

You let out a squeal.

“Now back to me!” Natasha called, her arms outstretched for you.

You felt much more confident this time, but you kicked yourself right into Natasha’s embrace.

“Mission accomplished!” she declared, giving you a big kiss on your wet cheeks and spinning you around. “Wave pool time?”

You grinned, nodding excitedly.

——————

You waded in together just at the right time. The horn blared signalling the start of the waves. The gentle swells of the water began to rise, rolling in lazily at first before you saw them really starting to build in size.

Wanda had one hand resting on your back, her other subtly weaving glowing red threads of her magic into the water around you. You didn’t notice what she was doing exactly, but you could tell the water felt different where you were, it was softer. Nowhere near as exciting as further out, where you wanted to be.

But then you noticed why.

“Mama,” you pouted, craning to look up at her. “You’re making the waves small!”

Wanda sighed, caught in her act. “I was just trying to keep them from being too rough for you, sweetheart.”

“I want the big ones,” you insisted, pointing further out. “The real waves,”

You could see her hesitation. She glanced at Natasha for backup, but Natasha only smiled. “She’s got her armbands on, Wanda,” Natasha said. “She’ll be fine.”

You beamed happily, and latched yourself onto Natasha’s hip as you couldn’t quite reach the bottom of the pool anymore. You wrapped your little arms and legs around her like a baby koala as she walked the two of you out into deeper water. Wanda stayed close beside you, her brows slightly knit together with concern.

You felt the water gradually lifting around you, rising and falling like it was breathing. It almost felt like you were flying. The thrill of it made your heart pound hard in your chest

“I wanna go deeper!” You squealed.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Wanda asked cautiously, brushing your wet hair out of your eyes.

“Yes! Deeper!”

Your mama looked like she might say no, but Natasha was already racing ahead, stepping further in, her grip firm around your waist.

“She’s okay,” Natasha called back confidently. “I’ve got her.”

You were in the thick of it now, the waves were cresting higher than anywhere else in the pool, more violent too. You had your arms wrapped around Natasha’s neck, laughing. You were so far out you don’t even think she could touch the floor anymore but you didn’t care. You were having fun. You felt brave. You felt big.

But then it happened.

A massive wave rolled in. “Hold on-“ Natasha started, but it was too late.

She tried to hold you tighter, but the wave knocked into her full force, and for a terrifying moment, you felt yourself slip out of her arms.

You were under the water.

You tumbled with the wave, turning upside down, water burning your nose and throat.

Before you could panic fully, you felt a familiar warmth grasp wrapping itself around you like a ribbon and pull you through the water, into the arms of your Mama. She clutched you tightly to her chest, holding the back of your head, her heart pounding against you. You were sputtering, coughing, trying to blink away the water from your eyes.

Your chest felt tight and your face scrunched in confusion from what just happened. You weren’t crying…not yet.

“Oh my god, is she okay?” Natasha swam up, breathless and soaked, her hands hovering near you. “I’m so sorry, I had her- I didn’t mean to -shit.”

Your head snapped toward her, still dazed by the wave, but you caught what she said.

“Bad word,” you mumbled, sniffling a little.

“What?” Natasha blinked in confusion.

“You said a bad word, mommy,” you repeated, the tiniest form of a grin breaking on your face.

Wanda huffed a soft laugh, before pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “She’s fine,” She murmured with relief, but you could tell her voice was still tight. She looked up at Natasha with a stern frown. “No more wave pool.”

Natasha nodded immediately, the guilt written all over her face. “Agreed. I’m so sorry, lovebug.”

You didn’t answer—just wrapped your arms tightly around Wanda’s neck, pressing your cheek against her shoulder.

Wanda carried you out of the pool, not letting go for even a second. You were still a little shaky, your face pink and damp, but you stayed quiet as she wrapped a towel around you and gently patted you dry.

“Let’s get you warm,” Wanda said softly, tucking your floaties under her arm.

Natasha came back with a bottle of water and your favourite snack from the cooler bag, crouching beside your lounge chair.

“Here,” she whispered, holding it out. “Hydration mission, agent. Top priority.”

You took the bottle with both hands and drank obediently, eyes still a bit wide but your fingers curling in comfort when Wanda sat down beside you and draped another towel across your lap.

“Think we’re done with deep water for today,”Natasha said gently, brushing her knuckles against your cheek.

You nodded slowly, leaning into Wanda’s side as she wrapped her arm around you. The events of the day were beginning to catch up to you. You were warm, dry, full of snacks, and now totally tuckered out.

“Can we do lazy river again later?” you asked with a yawn, your voice small, already starting to lose your battle with sleep.

Wanda smiled and tucked your damp hair behind your ear. “Of course we can, my love.”

Natasha leaned in and kissed your temple. “But only if you promise to let me hold you extra tight.”

You gave a sleepy nod, and let your eyes flutter shut, needing to close them for just a few moments. But the sounds of the water park, the laughter, the splashing, the feeling of the sun on your skin slipped further and further away from you and before you knew it, you were fast asleep, wrapped contently in Wanda’s arms.

#wandanat #mommy wanda #mommy natasha #little!reader #age regression #sfw agere #water park fic #swimming lessons #protective wanda #soft natasha #hurt/comfort #toldthatdevil fic #anon ask #wandanat x reader #wandanat x you

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sweetbans29 · 5 months ago

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Back to You (2) - CC Series

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Who knew Indianapolis would feel so small...

Warnings: little pains

Word Count: 2.1k

Previous - Next

Back to You Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist

2.5 YEARS LATER

Moving to Indiana was not your first choice. It also wasn't your second or third for that matter but here you are.

You stand in your new apartment, looking around at all the empty space you are going to have to fill. You hate filling space.

"Yo, where are you going to want this?" Kate comes walking in holding a lamp.

"Well considering there is no furniture here yet, I'd say the middle of the living room floor should do," you say sarcastically.

"Ha ha ha, very funny," she says as she places it on the kitchen counter. Claire comes through the door with a small box and places it next to the lamp.

"Okay, once the movers get here with the hauler I will have them working from the bedroom out. We will need to go to Target and a few other stores to get all the smaller stuff," Claire says. You are beyond glad that she is here to help, also that she has an eye for filling space.

"I think that is my queue to go grab food," Kate says as she picks up her keys and shuffles her way to the door.

You shoot Kate a glare but know that you can't go without food for much longer.

Over the next few hours your apartment slowly starts to look inhabitable. The following few hours are spent shopping for things that you know are just going to collect dust but don't say a word about because Claire seems to be really enjoying herself.

After you drove away from Caitlin, you did everything you could to make it seem like nothing had changed. To everyone around you, nothing had changed - they had no idea your world had just been torn apart and run over. The only thing that has changed is you stopped going to basketball games. You came up with every excuse in the books to get yourself out of sitting in a stadium where everyone was cheering on your girl - who used to be your girl.

It took Kate halfway through the season to figure out what had happened and when she did - she ran straight to you. It all started to make sense in her mind, why you weren't at games and never really around anymore. She never suspected anything because Caitlin seemed so normal.

When Kate confronted you about Caitlin - you broke down in front of someone for the first time over the girl you loved. She sat there and listened to every word you said and she was infuriated but she never left your side. She had every intention of confronting Caitlin but you begged her not to. It was already hard enough to pretend like you haven't been struggling to survive.

Ever since then, you made Kate swear that she wouldn't let what Caitlin did to you get in the way of her relationship with her teammate. And Kate kept her promise - even if it took her a while to look at Caitlin the same again. Kate did an above and beyond job at maintaining both of your friendships and it is because of that ability that you consider her your only real friend.

After getting back from all the shopping and taking orders from Claire on where to put everything you got all around your apartment, the three of you collapsed on your couch.

"I don't know how I could ever thank you both for helping me with all of this," you say.

"It was my genuine pleasure," Claire says with the biggest smile. You smile back and hear Kate groan.

"I am never doing that again," Kate says, causing Claire to hit her shoulder.

The three of you laugh all sharing in the fact that Kate did the least amount of work. You all fall into a comfortable silence and it begins to hit you. You are now living in the Caitlin Clark center of the world.

Over the next few weeks you settle into the new city, doing everything you can to avoid Gainbridge Fieldhouse even though you know you will be there sooner or later considering that is now your new place of work. If you had a choice, you would be working for any other WNBA team building out there - hell, you even looked into every NBA building option. But you didn't have much say when your executive director said they wanted you in Indiana, that is where you were forced to go.

Aside from it being home to the one person you try your best to avoid, the job you are stepping into is one of your dreams. You worked day and night to get to where you are and you are super proud of how far you have come in the short time after college. Becoming the Director of Player Relations for Gainbridge Fieldhouse, you knew you would only be able to dodge Clark for so long.

You have settled into your office and have made your rounds to introduce yourself to your new team. You have even started connecting with the Fever players which has been quite eventful. You first met Aliyah Boston and connected immediately. You tried not too but ended up fan-girling over her TikTok's. She tried to get you to join one but you refused, not wanting to be the cause of her losing followers due to your horrible dancing.

You then got some time with Natasha Howard and Kelsey Mitchell. Both of whom loved your intentionality and vision for how management can support the players.

You have met the rest of the team, minus a certain someone, in passing making sure to figure out a time to connect. At this point, you assumed that Caitlin knew you were in the building but haven't seen her yet to confirm.

Today's the day that all changes. At least that is what you are telling yourself since it is the first game of the season.

After getting to Gainbridge, you planned to take some time in your office before heading down to the floor but the second you walk in the door you are swept to do 20 different things. Before you know it, you are on the floor as the team runs out for final warm-ups.

Walkie in hand, you do everything in your power to stay busy the second you have a moment to breathe. As much as you want to breathe, you don't want to see that girl plastered all over this arena. You keep your head down and find your shoes uncharacteristically interesting.

A hand graces your shoulder and you peek up to see your assistant looking at you with soft eyes and in that moment you feel like you are back in college - broken and hiding.

"Hey Ben, what's up?" You ask, trying to shake the pit in your stomach.

"One would think after a few seasons this would feel normal," Ben says as he looks around at the crowds.

"This will never be normal, it will always be special. Trust me," you say. It comes out just above a whisper. Ben smiles at you and you smile back, shifting your eyes from Ben to the court for the first time. With the amount of people in this place you are certain you will blend into the background.

Big mistake.

As your eyes hit the court, they are met with all too familiar brown ones. Your smile fades as your eyes lock on hers. Both of you froze in time. It feels like your eyes are locked for hours but in the 5 seconds of gripping despair your breath is taken from you and you feel the air sucked from your lungs. You turn away and take a hold of Ben's arm.

"I left something in my office, I have to grab it" you say as you begin to walk towards the back.

"I can go get it, you should be here when they announce the players - it's thrilling," Ben says with a smile.

"No, no, I got it," you insist and continue walking. You feel like you are suffocating.

When you get to your office you close the door and turn the lights off. Back against the door, you sink to the floor and bring your head to your knees.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You sit there for who knows how long. When you feel your heart calm and your breath steady - you stand. Even after 2+ years of not seeing her, she still controls your heart. You grab your walkie and head back out.

You have no idea how much of the game has passed. As you are walking back out the tunnel an arm grabs you and pulls you into a small room.

"What the-", you begin but shut up immediately when you are met face to face with Caitlin.

She is looking down at you, hand still on your arm. Her fingertips brush the exposed skin on your forearm - a gesture you both were all too familiar with.

Neither of you say anything, not knowing what to say. You have imagined this moment every day since getting to Indy and now that you are here and alone for that matter, nothing comes out.

Caitlin hesitates but unlike your last meeting she brings her free hand up to brush her fingers against your cheek and her thumb against your bottom lip. You want to pull away but you lean in ever so slightly - she is too familiar.

Your eyes close as you feel your heart break all over again.

Caitlin can't take her eyes off of you. This feels like a dream, she has thought time and time again of how different things would have been if she cared more about you and less about the world. Cait continues to rub her thumb against your bottom lip until she feels a wet sensation meet her fingers. Her eyebrows furrow then ease when she realizes it's a tear.

She opens her mouth to say something, not that you had any reason to listen but she had to try. Before she can, the door opens and Steve pokes his head in.

"The second half is starting," Steve says and leaves right after.

Before Caitlin can do anymore damage, you step away from her. You don't look her in the eye - you can't. You see Caitlins hands grip the bottom of her jersey, just like they did the last time the two of you talked.

The last thing that Caitlin wants to do is walk away from you right now but she knows she doesn't have a choice. You watch as she makes her way to the door, stopping right before it and leaning her head against it.

You don't know why but before you stop yourself you find yourself reaching out and brushing one of her fly away hairs. It is now her turn to close her eyes. You pull her headband down and smooth some of her fly aways back before sliding it back onto her head. You bring your hands to her shoulders, giving them two squeezes like you would before every game to regulate her thoughts.

There is a soft knock at the door and you know Caitlin really needs to go but she doesn't move. She finally opens her eyes and you know she is doing everything she can to keep herself together.

She doesn't deserve your comfort. Both of you know it.

"Go," you say. It comes out softer than you intend - not that it was intended to be harsh.

She nods and reaches to open the door. Before letting herself out, she speaks.

"I would do anything to go back to that night," she says.

"Cait stop," you say, not wanting to do this right now. Not when she has to go out and finish a game.

"No," she says and turns to face you again. "That was the biggest mistake of my life and things are different now-"

The door opens and Caitlin is cut off.

"Clark, get your ass back out on that floor," one of the coaches comes in, grabbing her and dragging her out. You go unnoticed as you watch Caitlin be pulled out mid conversation.

Different? What could possibly be different now?

You have blocked her out of your life so much that you have no idea what is going on in hers. You shake your head - nothing has changed. This moment changed nothing. She is still the Caitlin that blindsided you and you did not spend the last two and a half years rebuilding your life to be broken again.

You grab your walkie and head back out, lighter than you have felt in a while.

The Fever lost that night and you can only hope that you had nothing to do with it.

AN: Part 2 in the books. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist

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ssentimentals · 3 months ago

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seungcheol + turning invisible

warnings: angst (with a happy ending though)

some people would kill for this superpower, you know. interestingly enough 'being invisible' turns up as an answer for the question about desired superpowers often enough for people to count you lucky. it's dumb, you think. everyone wants to be able to be invisible, but you know they'd hate it the second they actually turn invisible. it may sound fun, but in reality it's something you wish you never had especially on days like this one. when your haven't even tuned into your power and yet people seem to not see you anyway.

'we can start from setting up the deadlines first?' you suggest, looking around your study group.

no one answers. it's like you're not there, not with them but you are. just to be sure you check you pinch yourself - yes, you are here, you are present, you are not invisible. only it seems like you are with everyone ignoring you. all six people from your study group are currently engrossed in a conversation of hot new gossip, completely unaware of your existence. it stings. it makes a gnawing feeling in your chest rise, claw at your ribs, press on your lungs. trying to stop yourself from spiraling into negativity, you try one more time: 'who are you talking about?'

'no one,' one of the girl curtly dismisses you without looking.

it's not done intentionally, you can tell; there's no malice or desire to hurt you. but the way everyone just swatted you away like a noisy bug made your heart drop somewhere to the pit of your stomach. god, who needs this stupid power of invisibility, when you are doing just fine being invisible without it? it's impossible to continue seating here, feeling completely left out. you abruptly stand up, but no one even turns. 'i'll go order something,' you mumble, walking away.

food is the last thing on your mind now, but sitting there with them akin to a torture. you shift from one food stand to another, settling on chicken wings at the end. the queue is long enough for you to marinate in your thoughts and when someone bumps into you, you pay it no mind, when - 'oh, i'm so sorry, are you okay?'

you blink, turning around. you kind of didn't expect anyone to even apologize, because you thought you are invisible to them too. apparently not though, because leader of your group, seungcheol, is staring at you with his wide bambi eyes. 'um- i'm good, no worries,' you mutter, realizing that he's waiting for an answer.

seungcheol is the kind of guy who is so handsome that it's a bit scary; so good at leading and so kind that you think it's fake. you two never interacted outside of the classroom and you don't expect this instance to be any different, when seungcheol surprises you with: 'what you're going to order?'

it's.. an attempt at conversation, you think. which is a bit weird, because since when you're not invisible to him? just to be sure you ask: 'you're asking me?'

seungcheol chuckles fondly. 'yeah, who else? i'm talking to you.'

it shouldn't matter this much but it does. it makes all of your insides warm, makes you unreasonably happy. seungcheol is never mean, so you know that he's genuine here even if it's a bit weird for you. 'just 6 buffalo chicken wings,' you answer. 'you?'

'12 of them,' seungcheol smiles at you and you think that this is it, when he goes: 'how's the project going? you're in group B, right?'

you feel more and more out of depth. 'you know in which group i am?'

seungcheol awkwardly laughs, blushing a little. 'uh, yeah. not in a creepy way though! just, kind of. noticed.'

'noticed,' you repeat dumbly after him.

'uh-huh.'

'noticed because.. you were paying attention?'

you don't mean to interrogate him over such a simple matter, but it's just so baffling to you that you can't wrap your head around it. you are invisible to even your own group as they have demonstrated recently, so seungcheol noticing you makes your head spin a little. seungcheol avoids your gaze, tips of his ears burn bright red. 'why are you so surprised?' he asks, deflecting your question.

'i'm kind of invisible,' you answer without thinking, only then realizing how it sounded. 'um, i mean-'

'not to me,' seungcheol interrupts in a very serious tone. he frowns, looking at you. 'i don't really know what you mean with that invisible thing, but not to me. i always see you.'

his words wash over you in a gentle wave. warmth settles deep in your bones as you stare at him and he stares back, honesty written all over his face. you don't know what to say, how to convey how important his words were for you because he won't get it. seungcheol has no idea what it means for you to hear it and the simple way he stated something so earth-shattering makes you want to laugh.

'you're alone here? we can eat together if you want,' he offers after a silence.

'i'm here with my group,' you answer and his eyes dim a little, but he nods and forces a smile. you quickly add: 'but they are busy, so i'll gladly sit with you if that's okay.'

seungcheol instantly perks up like a puppy. 'of course, that'd be great!'

great. you have no idea how someone like seungcheol can think that sitting with you is great, but you'll take it. maybe it's not about being invisible for some people. maybe it's about being visible for those who matter.

a/n: this turned out a bit long, but i hope it's fine, let me know <3 - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen work is here

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tchtokyo · 4 months ago

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I see alot of batfam being possessive over their bfs....but how abt the bfs being possessive over the bats??

The bats are popular both sides of their jobs. Heroes fawn over them, in galas they are the center of attention and that sometimes sparks a possessive tingle inside their respective partners.

QUEUE THE SCENARIOS

Superbat

Bruce was in his usual situation during galas like this - surrounded by many of the billionaires e millionaires that wanted a piece of attention from THE Bruce wayne.

Bruce had that charming smile, the lidded blue eyes and the slight messy hair, the perfect image of handsome playboy he meticulous preserved. This particular crowd had many handsome men - tall, good smile, well dressed- and beautiful women - elegant, good make up - and they were all around Bruce age or younger.

Clark was not liking this at all.

Usually, he wasn't the jealous possessive type. He trusted Bruce, both in and out of costume. He knew that the playboy persona was just a fake mask and a way to maintain his hero identity hidden. They have been together for a long time, friends even longer, so clark had a lot of trust in Bruce.

But this galas always makes clark uncomfortable because of how people interact with Bruce and he doesn't know how long will he be able to stay put and not do something stupid.

"Your face says everything" Yes Lois was with him because she's reporting on the gala. More like annoying clark but who cares.

"I don't know what you talking abt."

"You are reeking with jealousy"

Clark looks at her and gives up, bc he can't hide shit from her "Yeah Lois, he's surrounded by handsome, rich people, of course I'm jealous"

"Okay then why don't you go there and go get your man? Everyone knows you two are dating, so just go there and snatch him"

He was abt to protest when she just ruffled his hair even more, letting the curls drop and open the button of his cream colored shirt and told him to take off the jacket.

"Why?!"

"You wanna go seduce Bruce with a checkered jacket?? Jesus, we don't need your Smallville boyscout we need clark who wants to fuck bruce"

Jesus Lois could be so crude sometimes, and clark was from Kansas. But she was right. Clark looked over to the crowd and saw one man - one that had been inching over to bruce little by little - putting a hand on Bruce's arm and letting it drop to the side of Bruce's waist.

Nah, fuck it. Clark was pulling out his Kansas farm boy. No one touches Bruce like that.

As he made his way over, Clark open another button of his shirt, pulled his curls even more over his face and let his glasses slide just a bit to rest on the bridge of his nose.

Clark slides behind Bruce, arm snakes around his waist, pulls him away from the man into his chest and smirks at his surprised face.

"Hey, darling!" Clark's rolls his tongue the way Bruce likes, letting some of the accent slip just to hit home faster.

Bruce blinks once, twice, loss from words and trying his best to not melt on the spot "h-hey, clark"

Clark pouts a bit, tilting his head and pulling the puppy eyes "I was over there all alone while you were here talking with all this people, I missed you sweetheart"

"O-oh" Bruce clears his throat "I'm sorry clark, I didn't mean to leave you alone"

"It's okay, you know, but I think it's time to give me some attention. Well, if you excuse us, I'm gonna take him away for a bit" clark leans forward and whispers semi loud for those close by to hear "I gotta make sure you know who owns you." And smiles, all sweet and charming, pulling a stunned and red face Bruce from the crowd.

"Clark-"

"Shut up. We gonna go to your bedroom, you gonna strip and I'm gonna fuck you until I feel like stopping." He looks at Bruce all serious "and you know have stamina for it"

Bruce just nods, dumb and horny and not caring for anything else.

Birdflash | jayroy | timkon | jondami

(If there's any other bat ship I should held, just say!!)

#dc #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #superbat #superman #batman #Clark Kent #bruce wayne #headcanon #clark no more boyscouts #clark wants that ass for real #possessive clark #yes we love #superman x batman #sexy clark #bruce be aware #more to come

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aziraphales-library · 5 months ago

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In light of recent events (or not so recent by the time this makes the queue 😅😅) could you all recommend some of your favorite Trans and/or Aspec omens fics?

I know we can search the tags (and everyone should!!) but what are some of y'all's favorites?

I have been looking for an excuse, nonny, so thank you for providing one. We support any and all headcanons and representations of Good Omens characters and their relationships. Please know you can request and recommend any kind of fics you want <3

We have a plentiful amount of fics on our #trans aziraphale, #trans crowley, #asexual, and #asexual relationship tags. But here are some of my personal favourites...

The first four have both trans and asexual characters, the latter two have one or the other...

All Hallow’s Eve by lalaland666 (G)

As it turned out, the reality of a Hallowe’en party for the university staff was even worse than the idea of one, and in all honesty, Aziraphale was just counting down the minutes until he could leave. "Well, this is going down like a lead balloon," a voice said from beside him.

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll (T)

Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster.

If Not Now, When by ineffablefool (T)

Anthony Crowley has learned by now that anything that makes him happy will be temporary at best. His quietly desperate routine is challenged when he happens to strike up a conversation with a customer at work, and he starts realizing three things, in this order: 1. oh huh this Aziraphale guy is actually interesting; 2. he can't stop embarrassing himself by accidentally flirting with him; and 3. oh no this Aziraphale guy is actually extremely attractive what do I do.

Lavender, Chamomile, and a Rather Permanent Arrangement by southdownsraph (M)

Crowley owns the flower shop across the street from A. Z. Fell's tattoo shop, and can't help but be intrigued by the slightly eccentric, yet incredibly friendly tattoo artist. When Crowley does finally pluck up the courage to talk to him beyond the occasional pleasantries, he kicks off the beginning of a friendship that could so easily drift into something else entirely.

Fine by likeasouffle (E)

Crowley’s gender had changed many times throughout history, and it generally wasn’t a big deal. She’d change her hair and clothing and switch out her genitals, just a couple of quick miracles. But this time her gender had had the audacity to flip right at the moment her relationship with Aziraphale was finally becoming physical, and suddenly she found herself considering his feelings about it, wondering how he’d react. Aziraphale wanted her handsome, he’d said so himself. He wanted her short-haired and masculine. He was a self-identified pansy with a history of late-night dancing with large groups of men. Crowley decided to stay as she was.

Changing of the Seasons by AppleSeeds (T)

Confined to his bookshop, Aziraphale joins a virtual training session about urban foraging led by botanist and natural wellbeing practitioner Anthony Crowley, and feels some relief from his anxiety for the first time since lockdown began. After that, he watches every video Crowley has posted online, but will he ever get up the courage to actually interact with him? After all, Crowley keeps giving him opportunities to do so... Perhaps once the lockdown is over, some one-to-one nature-based relaxation therapy might be just what Aziraphale needs?

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable partners #trans aziraphale #trans crowley #genderfluid crowley #asexual #asexual relationship #mod faves #mod d

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magicalrocketships · 2 months ago

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Rivers of Light || part 7 ||

(reminder that this in its entirety contains mpreg, reference to giving birth, Max Verstappen's bad dad, past abuse, and on-track accidents.)

All previous parts can be found in the masterpost here.

Max hasn't been scared before. Not really, not like this. But he's been scared without pause since he found out he was pregnant. It's exhausting. It's terrifying. And Max doesn't know how to make it stop.

Part 7

Bastiaan cries all the way from Viry-Châtillon to the hotel Daniel's booked for them. He's tired and cranky and hates his car seat and wants to be home where it's familiar and quiet and is just him and Max.

Max understands. He feels the same. He's overwhelmed and exhausted too. He hasn't slept through the night since before Bastiaan was born; every moment he's had with his baby he's had to figure out by himself. He doesn't have anyone else. He strokes Bastiaan's forehead and cheek with his thumb. It soothes him some of the time. His daddy's touch.

It doesn't work this time. Nothing's going to soothe him but being out of the car seat. Or sleeping.

"It's okay, little baby," Max tells him. "I know everything's been different. I know you want to be at home. Everything is new, and you like the things you know. You're being very brave, but I know you've had enough." Max has had enough too. He feels like when a cup's too full and the water tips over the top and onto the table. He's got nowhere to put anything new. He doesn't know how to fix it.

"It won't be long," Daniel says. "Less than five minutes."

Max looks up. Daniel's looking at him in the rear view mirror as they wait at traffic lights. Max can't hide his exhaustion. His elation at having a chance. His fear that it won't work out. Max hasn't been scared before. Not really, not like this. But he's been scared without pause since he found out he was pregnant. It's exhausting. It's terrifying. And Max doesn't know how to make it stop.

"Not long now, Bastiaan," Daniel says.

Max doesn't cry, but it doesn't stop him wanting to.

&&&

Max doesn't go to the check-in desk with Daniel. There's a queue, so Max takes the pushchair over to the sofas in the corner instead and concentrates on taking a sad, frowny Bastiaan out of his car seat. It's not good for a baby as little as Bastiaan to be so much in his seat but this trip is an exception and not the rule.

"There we are," Max tells Bastiaan softly, kissing the top of his head. "Is that better, my baby?"

Bastiaan rubs his cheek over Max's t-shirt. He likes it best when Max isn't wearing a t-shirt at all, never mind the compression vest that's hurting Max underneath it. Max shushes him, giving him a little slow rock to settle him.

When Daniel comes over, he's pink-cheeked. "I fucked up." He glances at Bastiaan. "Sorry for swearing."

Max shakes his head. "He's a baby, he is barely holding his head up. He can hear a bad word and not be saying it just yet."

"I thought I was booking you a family room and keeping my room, but my French is apparently pretty merde because they thought I was amending my own room booking instead. And they're full up unless someone doesn't check in for this security conference and cancels at the last minute. Which so far they haven't."

"I was going to stay in the airport anyway," Max says. He squares his shoulders. "You can just drop us there instead."

"No," Daniel says, making a face. "Don't be an idiot. We're just going to have to share the family room instead. The guy behind the counter was doing some pretty ineffective miming but I think there's a roll out bed."

"Oh," Max says. "Okay."

"Unless you don't want to," Daniel says quickly, "and if so, I'll be the one to go and find another room. They said they'd call if anyone cancelled anyway."

"The baby will keep you awake," Max says. "He doesn't like to sleep through the night."

"Ehh," Daniel says. "Neither do I. We can be insomniac buddies." He grins and it might not look exactly like the grins Max has carefully catalogued through years of long distance devotion but it's close enough that Max might be mistaken. It has been a while since he'd seen Daniel. Since Daniel had not contacted him after the crash.

"Okay," Max says. "Let's go." He has his rucksack and the changing bag and his suitcase and the pushchair. Daniel has a scuff-free leather hold-all with his initials embossed and the backpack he'd brought onto the plane. He takes Max's suitcase and manages to manoeuvre both it and the pushchair one-handed towards the lifts. Max is left following with Bastiaan, his little quiet baby with his little tear-stained face. Max kisses him. He is loved. He's so loved. Max is going to make sure he always knows it.

&&&

The room is nice but not as big as Max secretly wants. There's a large bed, a smaller twin bed over by the window, and a space where a crib would go if there was one. Which there isn't.

Max lets out a breath. He lays Bastiaan down in the middle of the bed. Bastiaan doesn't have many toys, because Max doesn't have anyone to give him any, and because Max has barely been anywhere since he was born, and before that, hadn't thought about buying anything but the barest practicalities. There's a soft rattle shaped like a lamb, and a toy giraffe. Both of them came from Celine, when she'd texted him to find out how he was doing, and he'd texted back to say that he was in hospital and Bastiaan was seven hours old. She'd closed the cafe after lunch, driven to the hospital, and delivered Max a baby blanket, the giraffe, and the rattle. She'd hugged him, held Bastiaan, and come back the following morning to drive them both home. She was the one who'd shown Max how to bath Bastiaan in the sink, how to test the water temperature and hold him and gently bathe him. Max needs to do better. The only person Bastiaan has is Max.

He gets out the giraffe and the rattle from his backpack. Bastiaan closes his little hand around the giraffe's neck. He wriggles his legs. His eyes track Max as Max moves, as he stands up to put his bag down.

"I forgot to buy baby wipes," Max says. "I'm running out." He's tired. "Can you look up if there's a shop near?"

"I'll do one better," Daniel says. He's thumbing through his phone. "I've got to go to the shop myself. Need a couple of things. I'll sort out somewhere for the baby to sleep as well." He shows Max a picture of baby wipes. "Are these okay?"

Max doesn't know enough to have a preference. "If they are for babies," he says. He sits down on the bed next to his baby. Bastiaan's still wriggling. His little hands move. His toes are curling and stretching out in his little socks. "I can go myself."

"Or," Daniel says, "I can go and give you a break from my company. You and Bastiaan can hang out. Do you need nappies or anything?"

"We're probably okay," Max says. He doesn't think about the emptying box at home. It'll be fine. He'll sign whatever contract Cyril gives him so long as it means he doesn't have to start worrying about anything for Bastiaan.

"You want me to bring you some Red Bull or something?"

Max shakes his head. His dad had made him go cold turkey on Red Bull after he was fired, and it wasn't like Max had been mobile enough at the time to go and find an alternative. Now he's supposed to be limiting his caffeine intake because he's feeding Bastiaan, so if he'll have anything it probably won't be an energy drink. "I'm okay," he says. "Thank you."

"Okay," Daniel says. Then, "Fuck, I don't have your number. You've changed it, right? Either that or you've blocked me."

Max looks at him. "I haven't blocked you."

"Well then," Daniel says. "I'm going to need your number. To call. If there are decisions to be made about baby wipes." He holds his phone out for Max to take. It's open at Max's contact page, and Max's number is there, the one he had before. The one that belongs to a sim card Max destroyed with a pair of pliers in the corner of a car park a couple of hours after running away from his dad's place. He'd wiped his phone and his laptop before leaving. Had to create a new Apple ID because his dad tracked his location via his old one. Traded in his car for another one in a deal that only benefited the car salesman and not Max. He'd registered the car to his mum's address even though he hadn't seen her since before he left Formula 1. He hadn't had anywhere else to put down.

For nine months, Max has kept his location a secret from his dad. And now he's just shown up at Renault and asked for a job. If it works out, his dad's going to know exactly where Max and his baby are.

Max lets out a breath. He types his telephone number into Daniel's phone and saves his contact record. "There," he says. "My number."

"Great," Daniel says. "Lemme give you a missed call so you've got mine." He does finger guns at Max after Max's phone starts to buzz. "Can't get rid of me now, bud."

Max thinks back to after the accident. His concussion. His dad looking through Max's phone. Reading out his messages to him because Max couldn't look at a screen for weeks. Daniel hadn't called. Hadn't texted. Hadn’t got in touch.

It wasn't Max who'd got rid of Daniel. It had been the other way around.

"I've got a couple of things to get," Daniel says, "so don't miss me too hard. I'll be back in time to take us to Cyril's, promise."

"Okay, Daniel," Max says. He unlaces his shoes and takes them off. He gets on the bed next to Bastiaan, curling around him like a protective letter C. "Hello, my baby. Are you playing with your toys?"

Bastiaan replies by bringing his fist up to his mouth. He starts to suck on it, his little sign that he's hungry. Max kisses his soft hair.

When he looks up, Daniel's still there. He's watching them both. He looks almost sad.

"I'll see you," Daniel says.

"Yeah," Max says. He waits until the door's closed after him, until Daniel's footsteps have padded away down the hallway.

Max sits up, pulls his t-shirt over his head, unzips his compression top, and lets out a breath. His tits hurt. There are harsh red lines pressed into Max's skin. He wants to be at home where he doesn't have to wear it. He picks his baby up. Bastiaan's already rooting for him.

"My hungry baby," Max says. For a second, Max's eyes blur with tears, but this isn't him. He's not a crier. He's stronger than that. Better than that. He's been bred not to cry.

Bastiaan latches on. It's sore. Max looks down at him. Strokes his hair. His cheek. Lets Bastiaan hold onto his thumb.

"It's just the two of us, hey?" Max says. "Me and you, my little baby. Me and you."

He scrubs away his tears with the back of his hand, and Bastiaan holds on.

#my fic #maxiel #rivers of light #fic fic tumblr fic #the mpreg train is leaving the station #(again)#this is growing beyond the size of a tumblr fic so i think i should put it on ao3 #but i kind of wanted to finish it all and edit it and put it up #hmmmmmmmm #anyway!!!!!#more bastiaan

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