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recluselecter · 3 months

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Jealousy

Leto Atreides x Ex-Wife! Reader

pairings: Leto Atreides x Ex-wife! Reader summery: When y/n spends the night of Leto's inauguration party with another man, he can't help dragging her away. warnings: uses she:her pronouns, mother! reader, jealous Leto, possessive Leto, Non-canon compliant, choking, breeding, cunnilingus mention, voyeuristic if you squint REAL hard. Words: 1.7k

Y/n’s hips were guided grotesquely against a stranger's crotch, drunken babbling tumbling from his lips. The wine in her glass had been spilt and emptied long ago, the red liquid having stained her dress. She didn’t care. She kept her eyes on the new Emperor, hair perfectly styled, beard immaculately trimmed, suit crisp and void of Arrakkis’ sand. She hadn’t seen him since they lived there. After Paul gained the title of Emperor for his father, Leto disappeared, taking Paul and their daughter. This was six months ago. As his coffee eyes burned into her skin, she thought of how he’d avoided seeing her as much as possible, passing their child to her through servants. Now though, he couldn’t avoid her. And it was killing him. She looked perfect, the stain on her dress adding to the gorgeous mess that was Y/n.

Leto Atreides hated her for it.

He stormed up to her, snatching her arm and pulling her away from the stranger.

“What the fuck, Leto!” She yelled over the hustle and bustle of the inauguration party. Leto dragged her through the halls of his new palace, opened a door, and shoved her in. When Y/n observed the room around her, she realized it was a very fancy bathroom.

Y/n glared at Leto. The wine on her dress was her fourth glass, and, gauging by the way she was swaying, she was wasted. Leto looked down at her as rage rose in both of their chests.

“You need to go home,” he stated.

“Why do you care what I do?” She snapped.

“I care that my ex-wife is fucked up in a ballroom of a house that isn’t hers.” The Duke took a dangerous step toward her, his own drink spurring him on. “I care that the bitch I’m forced to call the mother of my child is grinding on random men.”

“Oh my god!” She laughed. “I only call you when it’s late, Duke Atreides. You think I give two shits about your jealousy?” Her words struck a nerve in him as she slurred them out. “I only care about you when you’re fucking my brains out.”

He snapped. Leto’s hands slammed against the counter, his body shoving hers against the extravagant sink. She gasped, legs automatically falling open around him. He loomed over her, rage seething through him. His knuckles were white from his grip on the sink, barely holding himself together. He thought the expensive porcelain would crack under his palms as he leaned closer to his ex-wife. With inches between them, he knew she’d try to kiss him. His plan was dependent on it. Like clockwork, she angled her head up, her lips grazing his before his hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her back. She huffed as he scowled at her, but it was turned into a yelp when he forced her to turn around, bending her over the sink by her neck. He tilted his head at her in the mirror where she glared at him. He didn’t break eye contact as he hiked up her skirt, baring her panties to him. The red fabric matched her dress and her now blushing cheeks.

Leto’s hands snaked around her hips, pulling her back against his clothed erection. She hummed lightly as her hips rolled against him, pulling a small groan from his throat. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear as he tore her panties. “You’re a little slut, you know that?” He leaned back again, nearly salivating at the sight of her bare before him. “No better than a cheap whore.” Her cunt was glistening and had Leto resisting the urge to kneel before her and devour her. His mouth watered for the taste of her, having laid between her legs until the hot Arrakkis sun rose in the sky many times. That was long ago, before he was Emperor. Before he divorced her. For a man who prided himself on his independence as Emperor, he knelt quite often for the woman who vexed him.

She writhed against the sink as he let his fingertips trail lightly around her thighs, avoiding the place she actually wanted him. He pinned her legs to the porcelain, stopping all movement while he teased her. He leaned forward once more, growling in her ear. “You want this?” He let his middle finger enter her just a little, making her cry out in her desperate haze. Y/n nodded vigorously, and for once, Leto complied. He shoved one finger inside her to the knuckle, groaning at how tightly she gripped him. A curse slipped from his tongue, already weak at the knees. Leto Atreides was–and had been for years–wrapped around her finger. Should she ask him to kneel, he would kneel. He desperately hid it from her, but he knew deep inside just how far his devotion went. If she told him to take a knife to the throat, he would enthusiastically if it meant pleasing her.

Leto moved quickly, adding another right before he knew she’d be ready. After decades of bedding her, he knew her body like his own, and her squeak made him twitch in his trousers. He pumped his fingers into her pussy at a cruel pace, too fast to ignore the pleasure, but too slow to get off. She whimpered and cried under him like a pathetic little kitten, palming at his forearms to get him to stop. He bit her neck as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt. He ripped it from his trousers and unbuttoned the damned pants. Y/n started to protest when his fingers slipped from her wet cunt, but went silent quickly when she looked in the mirror to find him indulging himself, his fingers in his mouth. As he tasted her, he slid his boxers down his hips. She watched hungrily as more of his body was revealed to her. His cock sprung free proudly, and she found herself staring. He grabbed himself, moaning when he slid his hand from the tip to the base, the way she did when she used to pleasure him. His wrist twisted just once before he slid back down to the base, teeth grit as he watched his ex-wife in the mirror. For a moment both were mesmerized by the other. The Emperor found himself admiring her skin and her eyes before he snapped out of it, anger coming back.

She seemed to have the same epiphany as he lined himself up with her. He slid into her easily, and she tightened around him as he entered. He fell forward, holding himself up over her shaking body. He cussed as he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming himself back in. Y/n cried out under him as he set a brutal pace, one hand slipping to her hip.

“Fuck-!” She whined, pressing her face to the counter to cool it.

“Hands on the mirror, baby.” he gritted out. She obeyed, hands slamming against the mirror and providing more stability to the pair.

A knock hit the door, making Y/n jump. She began to stand up, but Leto shoved her back down by the back of her neck, boot slamming against the door to stop it from opening. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!” He snarled. His hips didn’t stop thrusting relentlessly into her as the intruder spoke through the door.

“Emperor Atreides, you must give your speech!”

Leto ignored him, speeding up. Y/n shrieked, legs shaking as he fucked her. His hand slipped to her thigh, forcing it up on the counter and allowing him deeper. He braced himself over her, moaning into her shoulder.

“Show me how much you missed me, baby.” He grunted. She whined under him, brain not working properly. “Do I need to tell you what you already know?” he demanded breathlessly. Y/n gasped as Leto’s hand buried in her hair, yanking her up against his body with his arm around her throat. The mirror loomed in front of her. Leto studied her tear-stained face, her mascara running as he refused to stop moving. She watched his cock disappear into her weeping pussy, her face bright red. “Look how good you take it.” He groaned, watching as his cock reappeared each time, shining with her arousal. Lewd noises filled the bathroom as he ravaged her, as he claimed her.“You’re mine, remember?” he spoke, his voice low and rough in her ear. “This body is mine. This cunt is mine.” Y/n nodded, hands clinging to his arm. “Other men don’t get the privilege of what is mine.” She gasped as his arm tightened around her throat, just barely choking her.

“Yours.” She moaned out. Leto fought the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. He groaned as his stomach tensed, his orgasm coming fast. Y/n clung to him as she came, crying out his name.

“That’s it, darling. Come on, let it out.” He grunted, arm moving from her throat to her waist to hold her up when her legs gave out. Her eyes rolled back, brain numb from the wine and his cock. Seeing her stupid made him snap, moaning as he came deep inside her. She whimpered in his arms, shaking. He rode out his high, groaning into her neck until he came down. He let her down slowly, letting her brace herself on the sink before pulling himself out of her.

He didn’t bother tucking himself away, not until he watched his cum seep from her pussy. As it did, he ran his fingers through it, scooping it back into her and shoving his fingers as deep as they’d go. She cried out, oversensitive. Leto hushed her, running his hand over her back and kissing her cheek.

“I know, my love,” He hummed, still fingering his cum back inside her. “But you know the rules.” Y/n nodded, gaining some feeling back in her legs as he slid his fingers from her. He licked each one individually, savoring the taste of the pair mixed together. His tongue slid over his own skin meticulously as he used his other hand to tuck himself away, refastening his belt.

Leto looked for Y/n’s panties, but only found the scrap of what he’d ruined. Shit. They were going to have to do a raincheck on the inauguration speech. Especially with her current state. Leto gently lifted her into his arms after pulling her dress over her. His past lover automatically snuggled into his neck, arms around him. Emperor Atreides smiled as he planned their escape.

#leto atreides #dune #dune part 2 #atreides #paul atreides #leto atreides smut #oscar isaac #leto atreides x reader #house of atreides #dune movie

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

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Growing Pains (S.R.)

Summary: When Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry, he didn’t realize how difficult it would be when he confronted his wife… and learned it didn’t belong to her, either. It belonged to their daughter. Request: reader and Spencer are happily married and have a 16-year daughter. She has a new boyfriend (her first boyfriend) and her parents are worried. They meet the boyfriend. A/N: Who doesn't love a little Dad!Spencer? Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Domestic Fluff (16+) Content Warning: Awkwardness, father & daughter relationship, protective Dad Spencer, lingerie, meeting the parents, firearms mention, Spencer finds his daughter’s lingerie and thinks his wife is cheating on him, it’s hard to explain, mentions of sexual themes, innocent kissing Word Count: 3.7k

There is something so mundane yet so serene about suburban life. That idyllic air that carried small bits of freshly mown grass and children’s laughter. That wasn’t to say that my life was uneventful, however.

After all, it would be nearly impossible to have a boring life while married to Spencer Reid.

But it was rare for me to feel any level of discomfort as I patrolled familiar halls. Mild annoyance, maybe, but never before had I felt such a sense of foreboding.

Not until that fateful day where I arrived home from errands to find that the clean laundry has already been pulled from the dryer. That in itself wasn’t bad—I was more than happy to let someone else do the folding—yet when I walked up the stairs, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.

“Spencer?” I called.

“In here,” he answered without his normal enthusiasm.

Now that was unnerving.

The situation only got worse when I did finally open the door to find him awkwardly pacing around the room. My attention followed him back and forth a couple times before he came to a sudden stop.

“Hi honey,” I offered as gently as I could, “What’s up?”

“Hi,” he replied, still dejected and distant. He didn’t come any closer to me before he began fiddling with his fingers.

After a tense moment of silence, I asked again, more directly, “Are you alright, Spencer?”

“I have something very difficult to discuss with you, and I-I just want to ask for you to be patient with me.”

My heart sunk at the realization that the sense of foreboding was coming from him. The muscles straight up stopped beating, turned to rocks, and tumbled into my stomach.

I shook my head to try to stave off the stupor associated with shock.

“What are you talking about?” I asked because I needed to know just how much my simple suburban life was about to change.

Was he cheating on me? Was he going back to prison? Were their federal agents standing outside, ready to tear our family from our home?

When he finally began to speak, however, it was far from a satisfying explanation.

“I know I’m not always the best husband, and I know I can be absent and that the stress of the job and the kids and the state of the entire world, really, can get in the way of our time together,” he said with an increasing tempo.

“Spencer,” I said as a beg and a warning, “Just say it.”

He held his hands up in surrender as he pleaded back, “Please, just…”

I could feel my pulse in every extremity. My skin burned with blood and my lungs cried out for oxygen.

“I know you, I do,” he assured me before he continued, “and I know this sounds so unbelievably horrible for me to even accuse you of something like this, but…”

Me?

In that terrifying silence, I ran through our lifetime of memories to try to find something I might have done wrong. But no matter how hard I searched, I found nothing that might make him want to leave me like this.

Unless…

And then he said it.

“Are you… cheating on me?”

So quickly, my fear shifted to white-hot rage that came out of my mouth so ungracefully that I nearly knocked the lamp off the bedside table in my confusion.

“What?! No!” I shrieked, “Oh my god, what made you think that?!”

At first, Spencer relaxed. The veracity of my answer had been convincing because it had been true. But Spencer, clearly still concerned that I was somehow an award-worthy actress, continued to wring his hands together throughout his poorly planned confrontation.

“I, um… I found… lingerie. In the laundry,” he said with a tilted timbre. “And I know I’ve never seen it on you before, and I also know it wasn’t new.”

The busy blood in my veins immediately knew to cower. Before it had even struck me how utterly fucked I was, I was practically trembling with concern.

Spencer saw the fear, and instead of realizing it was about what he had no way of knowing, he interpreted it as a different kind of admission.

“So, whose is it?” he asked.

Stepping towards the bed, I motioned for him to take a seat. When he didn’t? I urged him, “Honey, sit down.”

“… Oh,” he muttered before practically collapsing on the bed.

Slightly annoyed by the dramatics, I rolled my eyes and sighed before I explained, “No, not that.”

He didn’t believe me, so I sighed again.

“Spencer, I am not cheating on you.”

That time, he sighed. I let him enjoy the brief reprieve before I threw him headlong into the worst kind of turmoil.

“What you found… isn’t mine,” I stated very clearly.

“But—?”

“It belongs to our daughter.”

The room fell silent. I watched as the realization dawned on him. Slowly, his glazed over eyes began to reflect the harrowing reality.

Then, all at once, his entire world came to a devastating end. Jumping up from his seat on the bed, Spencer grabbed his head and yelled in utter disbelief.

“What?!”

“Spencer, calm down,” I tried.

It didn’t work.

“What do you—she’s only 16! What do you mean it’s her—?!”

I watched from the sidelines as his brain short circuited. He tried to pace, but ended up just trapped in the same spot with flailing arms and wild hair.

Eventually, he settled on the question that had made me so nervous in the first place.

“Where did she even get it from?!”

“I bought it for her,” I said.

The fight left his body immediately. Spencer fell back on the bed and buried his face in his hands with a dramatic groan.

I sighed, again.

I was fully prepared to let him wallow in the grief of his daughter’s childhood, too. But then he had to go and say something silly again.

“Oh my god, I wish you had been cheating on me,” he strained, “That would have been so much easier than this.”

“Spencer!”

“I’m sorry!” he conceded immediately, “I didn’t mean it. I love you, I’m glad you aren’t cheating on me.”

Despite his well-intentioned apology, he remained inconsolable. I thought about giving him a moment to spiral, but I also knew that this was a bandaid that had practically fused into his skin.

At a certain point, it just became necessary for us to discuss it—with or without the dramatics.

“I know this is upsetting for you, but our daughter is almost a grown woman,” I explained to my pitiful husband who continued to make sounds of general protest. “I don’t want her to think of her body as anything less than something worth feeling good about.”

Finally popping up from behind his hands, he returned a bitter laugh.

“Okay, but is she doing it to make herself feel good, or to please some piece of shit asshole quarterback?” he spat.

He didn’t appreciate the way it made me laugh, but I couldn’t help it. It was a ridiculous notion and he deserved to be mocked for it.

“Spencer, your daughter would not be interested in a quarterback.”

He knew I was right, but in typical Spencer fashion, he refused to admit it.

Instead, he just huffed, “How would I know?!”

But I knew he would, eventually, respond to reason, so I didn’t relent no matter how much he begged me to.

“Sex shouldn’t be a scary thing for a teenage girl! I wanted her to know she can feel comfortable telling me things. Like if she needs condoms or the pill or, heaven forbid—!”

“Oh my god, please stop,” he groaned, “Just, give me a second, please!”

I allowed him the moment because I knew he needed it.

Sure enough, after a couple seconds of reflection and a few deep breaths, Spencer returned to his normal eccentricity. He even managed to chuckle to himself a little bit, although I’m sure he’d still felt his dramatics were justified.

He didn’t protest when I took a seat beside him on the bed. In fact, he was quick to lean on me.

I wrapped my arms around him and tried to stifle my laughter at how downtrodden he’d become. My hand smoothed over his hand and I tried to offer him reassurance that everything would be alright if our daughter grew up.

“Oh, honey, nothing has changed. She’s still our baby girl,” I reminded him.

“I know,” he sighed. Then, through laughter he muttered, “It was just a lot for me to go from thinking you secretly hated me to our daughter wearing lingerie, alright? It’s a lot.”

He buried his face against my shoulder and took another deep breath before he held me back. The simple gesture reminded me just how much he’d probably been through in past hour. Of course, it had all been self-inflicted and based on comical perceptions. But it was a lot, and I always loved the chance to comfort him.

We sat like that for a while. We sat with the knowledge that we’d made it this far. There was something special about this fear, because it meant that we had done at least a few things right.

That didn’t really help assuage any of the fears for the future, however.

“Is she having sex?” he asked.

I wished I had a better answer.

“I don’t know,” I admitted with an exhausted groan, “My plan didn’t work. She won’t tell me anything.”

“What do we do?”

It was a question I’d spent hours pondering only to end on the same-old, unsatisfying answer.

“I guess we just… wait until she’s ready to tell us about her boyfriend.”

Silently, Spencer lifted his head and turned to me. The foreboding returned with a vengeance, but this time, I was prepared for the question to follow.

“… her what?”

I’d always heard people say that domestic suburban life could be hell on earth. I’d always shrugged it off, convinced that I had figured out the impossible and remained happily in love with my wife and the proud father of a very well-adjusted daughter.

But as I stood in my bedroom, bereft of even the basic will to live while my beautiful, loving wife fixed my tie, I realized that they had been right.

Fatherhood was hell, and my wife was the devil’s favorite accomplice.

On any other occasion, her preening would have me melting between deft fingers. In that moment, however, I felt nothing but disdain at her attention to detail.

Because she was not doing it for my benefit. She was doing it so that my disheveled appearance wouldn’t upset another man. A cruel man who sought to steal away the brightest light of my life.

That night I had to meet my daughter’s very first boyfriend.

“Are you ready?” my wife asked.

“No, you took away my gun,” I replied with the utmost sincerity.

Clever eyes darted up to mine before she laughed. The sound brought me little comfort. I tried to be upset at how she took joy in my suffering, but my lips turned to a pout before a frown.

“Yes, you’re very scary, dear,” she hummed.

Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to mine. Perfectly painted lips felt different but still tasted sweet.

Those damned fingers smoothed over my shoulders until stern muscles relaxed once more.

Eventually they crept up and cupped my jaw. Gently—at first.

So quickly they turned brutal, pressing hard enough on my cheeks to force another pout from tired lips.

“He’s a sweet boy and you’re going to be nice to him, alright?” she warned.

If she hadn’t been squeezing me so tightly, she would’ve seen me smile.

“We’ll see about that,” I deadpanned.

Again, she laughed, and that time, it brought me all the comfort I could ever need.

That darling devil of a woman stole one more kiss before she whispered, “Good enough.”

For a moment, it was. But then the doorbell rang and, despite all her efforts to lift up a heavy heart, it still plummeted to my stomach at the sound.

So quickly, my favorite girls had fled towards the door and left me frozen in the lurch. My hands and feet felt numb as my heart tried to reason with a stubborn mind.

There were some things a father had to eventually face.

My little girl was growing up, and my bad knee probably wouldn’t survive the jump out of a second story window.

There was only one way out of this. I had to go through it all.

I could hear their voices, so full of joy and love that it made me ache at the thought of losing half of it.

But deep down, I knew that I risked losing her regardless of how much I resisted the boy she’d chosen.

So, eventually, I managed to shuffle stubborn feet down the hall and towards the living room.

Somewhat to my surprise, the boy’s presence was hardly noted. In fact, if my wife hadn’t been making such a fuss about the bouquet he’d handed her, I might have even missed him.

We locked eyes from across the room. The poor boy’s muscles seized in an instant. His shoulders crept towards his ears and he lost the battle of keeping his eyes on me.

There was a distant, fleeting feeling at the sight. Something not easily described, which made my palms sweaty.

My eyes almost fell to the floor, too, but they were stopped by the sight of my daughter. Seemingly unaware of my gaze, she’d thrown her arms around the boy the first moment that she could.

Again, my heart ached with a confounding feeling. With narrowed eyes and a fast-beating heart, I struggled to place it.

Thankfully, my wife was quick to interrupt before the two had caught me staring.

Before she called us all to dinner, though, I spotted that same wistful twinkling in her eye. She had simply been better at hiding it than me.

For that same reason, I let her take charge. I sat almost silent, successfully biting my tongue to save my daughter from the embarrassment of my unbridled enthusiasm.

Of course, her pride hadn’t been the only reason that I’d hardly spoken. There had been a couple more selfish desires.

The first was my unwaning concern about any boy who’d so much as looked at my daughter. However unlikely it might have been, I had to be certain that this boy was as harmless as he seemed.

My mind began running a million scenarios of increasing horror. Yet right before the fateful final moment, the theoretical fell flat.

There was, to my relief, almost nothing disconcerting about the boy.

Almost.

There was still… that funny feeling.

“Dr. Reid?”

The sound of a familiar moniker in an unfamiliar place—from an increasingly familiar voice.

“Hm?” I answered the boy.

“I hope it doesn’t sound rude, but I looked you up before I came,” he said with the telltale crackling of a nervous teenage boy.

“I don’t think it’s rude,” I said.

That’s what I would have done, was the unspoken realization.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he laughed.

My wife and daughter stifled a chuckle as they exchanged a secret set of glances that I didn’t understand.

“Your writing is way more advanced than my reading level,” the boy continued, “but I did try to read some of them. Your philosophy papers seemed so…”

He struggled to find the next word. His face twisted between a smile and something similar to a flinch. I recognized the hesitance like a mirror to the past.

“Would… hopeful be the right word?” he asked.

“Yes!” I shouted, to my own surprise.

And that boy’s face lit up like a properly screwed lightbulb from one of my very poorly received philosophy jokes.

I had become so excited by the prospect of being understood—for once—by someone so young and green that I could hardly contain my excitement.

“Which paper did you—?”

I cut myself off when I heard a soft sigh from the boy’s side.

At first, I’d thought that it was my daughter trying to warn me of my first social faux pas of the evening. But I was instead pleasantly surprised to find her contented smile. Although, it was aimed at someone else.

“No, please,” the boy beamed, “I want to hear about all of them.”

I contained the buzzing in my fingertips that tapped against the table. I turned to my wife for permission, but her slight nod didn’t provide me the confidence to continue.

It wasn’t enough until my daughter blurted out, “Go ahead, dad. I know what I signed up for.”

What confounding words to be uttered so simply. I didn’t dare question them then.

Instead, I answered his question. I spoke at length and about anything he could remember. To my surprise, the conversation wasn’t nearly as one or two sided as I’d expected.

By my daughters third question, I was forced to accept that she really had been listening to me all those years while staring down at her phone.

My wife had been the quietest person at the table. The whole dinner, she just seemed to lean back and admire the scene before her. But behind each sip from her glass, I spotted a cheeky smile that appeared alongside that wistful distance in her eyes.

I decided I would ask her later what she saw.

Later came sooner than expected, however. The summer sun had long since set when an unfamiliar phone dinged.

“Oh, sorry, it’s my mom,” the boy muttered. There was a brief disappointment that seemed to dissipate the moment he read the message. “I should really get going, anyway. I don’t want to take up your whole night with my curiosity.”

“He really would talk forever if you let him,” my daughter said under her breath.

I assumed it had been a comment about me.

I was wrong.

“It’s just not very often I get to ask a philosopher for his thoughts, okay?” he chuckled.

He must’ve felt my dumbstruck staring, however, because he stopped himself. He straightened his back the best he could but his hand still trembled when he reached out to me to shake it.

“It really was nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” he offered.

I was too frozen by the shock of how many mistaken assumptions I’d made in such a short period of time to respond. I glanced down at his hand and recalled a time where I was adamant that I wouldn’t shake a strangers hand.

That hadn’t been true anymore (thanks to my very supportive wife and therapist), but my daughter still recognized the ghost of hesitance.

One stern look from her made me spring into action.

His hand was warm and softer than mine. The only calluses were caused by a firm grip on a pencil rather than a gun. There was nothing worrisome about the way he tried to follow every instruction manual for handshaking.

He was, as my wife had put it, a sweet boy.

“It was very nice to meet you, too,” I returned. Then, knowing how much it would mean to them both, I smiled as I added, “I look forward to next time.”

Their responses were everything I had predicted, and it was entirely worth whatever germs might have been transferred.

The moment I turned my attention away from them, I watched from the corner of my eye as they excitedly squeezed each others hands until their whole bodies were bouncing.

“I’ll walk you to your car!” my not-so-little girl shouted.

It was less walking and more dragging until he managed to catch up to her.

The sight tugged once more at my heart. That strange feeling crept forward again and I tried to find its name as the front door clicked shut.

My wife swiftly ended the thought, however, by grabbing my hand and taking off towards the stairs.

“Come on!” she half-whispered between her tugging and my stumbling.

“Where are we going?!”

“We’re going to spy on them!” she now fully yelled, “Hurry up!”

In a fit of laughter and with our hands never breaking apart, we did just that. We booked it up to the master bedroom and—with the lights still off—my wife’s clever fingers pried apart the blinds just enough for us to peer through them.

The suburban summer night was almost quiet enough to hear them make their inevitably awkward goodbyes. The soft glow of carefully placed streetlights painted my daughter in an even more beautiful light, and I could tell the boy in front of her appreciated it for everything that it was.

Yet he turned away from her first, with his hand lingering in hers.

Somehow, I knew what would happen before it did. Sure enough, my daughter refused to let go. She used that hesitance to leave and pulled him right back to her and straight into a quick, chaste kiss.

And that was when I realized what that feeling had been. That lurid memory, the subtle glowing of my heart, was the familiarity of it all.

The scene unfolded like a home movie ripped straight from my memory.

In perfect synchrony with that epiphany, my wife released a dreamy sigh.

“Do you remember when that was us?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I laughed, “I do.”

I remembered it all with perfect clarity, despite how far away it had fallen. I dragged the memories back up with the same insistence that my wife had used to bring me to that moment.

I remembered the butterflies in my stomach and the anxiety of knowing that I was madly in love with a woman that was much too good for me. I also remembered how it felt to clamor back into my car and have to drive away from her with the taste of transferred lipgloss on my lips.

As the boy drove away, I felt a wave of relief ushered on by my wife’s comforting embrace.

“I think they’re going to be okay,” she whispered.

“Yeah. Me too,” I agreed.

We’d seen it happen before.

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thewalkingwillowtree · 5 months

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love.

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Part 18- Healing

The second they landed, Sal had flung herself at Xilä, sobbing inconsolably in a flurry of emotions ranging from devastation, elation and just pure relief.

Once Sal finally released her, Neteyam was lifting Xi into his arms and bypassing all the other waiting friends and family members- Tuk, Kiri, D’avi, Spider and so many others who’d crowded around.

“Later,” he snapped, “she needs to see Tsahìk,” was all he said before striding off for this grandmother’s tent

The medic they’d taken with them on their journey had done as much as they could for Xi, but Neteyam had watched his wife struggle on the trip back home, she needed proper treatment.

Mo’at embraced them both, murmuring prayers of thanks to Eywa under her breath. She was then giving orders to have a large tub basin brought in as she ushered Xi to a free bed.

Between his grandmother, Kiri and Sal, Xilä was carefully bathed and tended to and all wounds and injuries no matter how minor were treated.

After Xi inhaled a thick nutritional broth and a cup of medical tea, she swallowed the tonics Mo’at had instructed her to before falling into a deep and much needed sleep against Sal.

Neteyam had not left her side once. He hovered and kept a watchful eye as the woman worked seamlessly and efficiently to care for his mate.

A tension of relief he hadn’t realized was stifling him, released when his grandmother had asked if she’d been hurt intimately. Xi had given her a simple resounding NO to the question.

“You should go get cleaned up brother,” Kiri said, taking his empty soup bowl and the filthy cloak and pants he’d removed from himself.

D’avi, who’d come in a while ago was gently finger combing through Xi’s now clean loosened strands. She saw his hesitation and the way his stare lingered on his sleeping wife.

“Don’t be stubborn now. Go, she won’t wake anytime soon…we won’t leave her side until you’re back,” she assured.

It took everything within him to leave the tent. After additional coaxing and light scolding from the two elderly women, he eventually left.

Neteyam soaked the nearest hot spring, washing away the aches and tension from the very long couple of days he’d endured. And of course the entire time, the only thing that plagued his mind was the wellbeing of his mate.

A pang of panic flooded him when he returned to the healing tent and didn’t find Xi where he’d left her.

“Calm yourself, Teyam,” Mo’at soothed from where she’d been tending to a new patient.

“She’s just back there,” she said, jerking her head to a partitioned section of the large tent that led to Mo’at’s personal quarters- which she only ever used if she needed to be close to a patient.

Sal and D’avi were still with Xi when he entered the dim space. They gave him soft smiles and gentle arm pats on their way out, Sal stopping to press an appreciative kiss to his cheek and a whispered “thank you” as she passed.

Neteyam crawled in and laid beside his mate, greedily drinking in the sight of her sleeping features. Dirt and grime free, the cuts and bruises littered about her skin were a stark difference- harsh and prominent.

Guilt ate at him.

He traced the contours of Xi’s face- thumb barely making contact as it brushed over her skin in a feather light motion. Across her brow, curving along the soft of her cheek, down the bridge of her nose before tracing the lines of her jaw, chin, lips- landing finally on her pulse point to make sure he felt that subtle beat.

He snuggled closer, her feet meeting his chins as he plastered himself to her front while they laid on their sides- face so close to her own, their noses touched and heartbeats thumped against each other.

At last, and at peace for the first time in too many days, Neteyam slept.

In the first week that his wife returned, both Neteyam and Xilä stayed with Sal and Jxo. Not only because it was easier since Xilä’s room was still available, but Neteyam also thought it best for both her and her parents' comfort.

Within the very second day he began to notice Xi’s behavior. Somehow he knew it was coming, he’d been watching, waiting.

It was subtle little things at first. Actions and hints of an emotion or expression he hadn’t seen from her in a long, long time. Not always, but she’d flinch at the slightest touch or brush- even from him.

Sudden movements and loud noises had her panicky and unsettled.

Shaking hands she’d either clasp up tightly or sit on them altogether to hide, unaware he’d already clocked it.

Nightmares. Those she couldn’t hide even if she wanted to. Some nights she accepted his comfort when she woke up in hysterical tears, and others she’d downplay it all and say she was “fine”.

Fine. Oh how he fucking hated that word.

And so even though he’d expected these reactions from her, even though he’d mentally prepared himself for how to handle it, how to help her… what he hadn’t expected was for her to pretend she wasn’t affected… at all.

His mate, Xilä Sully acted like it was all nothing and everything was fucking normal- fucking fine. Like she hadn’t been kidnapped, like she hadn’t been beaten bloody and bruised, starved, chained and held prisoner because she’d been traded like she was meaningless cattle.

No. Xilä was all smiles and chatty as ever. Her parents had shared his concern at first when he pointed it out, but then they’d just chalked it up to it being that she'd grown and was better at handling traumatic events by now. They were just happy to see her, happy.

Bulllll-shit.

She could fool their friends and their family and everyone else who visited to show their concern or relief that she was back, but him? She could never fool him. He saw through the smiles and laughs that never quite met her eyes.

His wife was hurting, bottling everything up and stifling her pain.

And it killed him.

He tried. Not within that first week of course. But when they’d moved into a temporary little tent near her parents’, he tried talking to her. Tried getting her to open up. She refused… Because of course and once again, she was still fucking “fine.”

It ate at him. Plagued him. He thought maybe, just maybe she was waiting until it was only the two of them again in their own space and away from everyone else. But when she gave him nothing, he pushed, and pushed some more until she finally snapped and told him to give it a rest, to “leave it be.”

Neteyam grew tired and frustrated. He had her back and all to himself now and yet he’d never felt such distance from his wife. He was at his wits end and his own “pretending everything was fine” just for her, was beginning to crack.

They were venturing into the beginning of the third week since her return, and while he had backed off from his mission of getting her to open up, it certainly didn’t stop his hovering.

He hadn’t left her side for a second. Downright refused, even when she’d grumble about his over-clinginess. Duties temporarily handed off to Tasam who he trusted whole heartedly with, Neteyam became worse than clingy- he was his wife’s shadow.

Xilä had observed this early on, noting her husband’s desperation to stay close to her. The way his eyes would light up in panic if she had left his sight for even a second made her heart ache. And at night while they slept, he completely engulfed her, limbs entwined, with his face buried into her neck as if he were trying to seep into her skin.

In the past few weeks, she had barely lifted a finger. Her husband was worse than her mother she summed up. Sal and Neteyam seemed as if they were competing for who could hover and smother her with love and affection the most.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it, to be honest she basked in all the love- or most of it. Not the times when her mate would chastise her for trying to walk on her sprained ankle too soon, or the few times she’d forgotten to take her pain tonics only for Neteyam to launch into a sweet but long winded and overly dramatic lecture as if her not taking her medicine caused him actual pain.

But today was a new day, and Xi was keen on taking back her independence. She was ready to shake off the nightmares that crippled her at night and the flashbacks, and the fear and the looming, constant sense of dread and anxiety that she was so ready to be done and over with.

“Handsome, I’m going to D’avi’s today.”

Neteyam’s head flicked up from the tablet he’d been pouring over as he watched his mate shuffle out from their bed with the empty tray of breakfast he’d made for her.

“Okay, I’ll come too,” he replied, tossing aside his new device to quickly follow right after her, ducking ever so slightly since the top of his head brushed the ceiling. He took the tray from her hands before she could protest, with a light smack to her ass when he reminded her to take her medicine.

Xilä bit her lip as she watched him put away the dishes. “Um… oh, alright.” She couldn’t find it within herself to tell him she wanted to go on her own. She changed direction and pulled out the first medical flask. “Hey, don’t you have your duties to get to by now? I know you took some time off but-”

“Tasam’s got it handled,” he shrugged.

“Okaay… it’s just, you can’t stay cooped up inside with me forever. So, when are you going back out exactly?”

“When I’m ready,” he said flippantly as he moved to fastened on his arm bands and warrior belt. “There’s no need for me right now,” he partly fibbed.

Her brows narrowed at him while she drank the last bitter concoction before chasing it with water. “Lie.”

“Lie?” He faced her head on, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and scabbed-over cut on her cheek he knew would scar. “Yeah, alright you got me… but baby, don’t start something you’re just going to walk away from.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, pausing her task of rubbing oil on the fading bruises around her neck and arms.

“It means exactly the same thing I’ve been trying to talk to you about for days, Xilä. I’m not the only liar here. You won’t tell me shit!”

“Oh this again?” She rolled her eyes. “Teyam, I keep telling you, I’m f-”

“Fine?” he finished sarcastically. “Yeah, so you’ve said a few times,” he snarked. “When are we going to stop with the pretending, Xilä?”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” she snapped. “Are we going or not?” she asked quietly, not even glancing in his direction as she walked right out of the small tent.

“There you go, walking away from me again,” Neteyam muttered to himself with a rub to an eye before he followed after her. He was fucking exhausted.

He caught up to her within four long strides and reached out to link their fingers together. Xilä didn’t pull away, she never did- even after many recent spats, if anything she’d always hold on just as tightly, almost as if he’d disappear.

Halfway through their walk to her sister’s, Neteyam broke the silence.

“We should probably discuss our living arrangements… I know it’s only temporary but I hate where we are right now. I know you do too,” he joked lightly, recording it as a win when she broke out into a smile of her own, nose wrinkling just the way he liked it.

“It is awfully cramped,” she agreed, “and low hanging… I feel for your poor head every time you want to stand up straight,” she laughed. “When do you think we can move back into our home? I miss our own bed.”

Neteyam shot her a sideways glance, hiding his surprise. “You want to move back there?”

“Well, yes. It’s our home. Don’t you?”

When he didn’t immediately answer her, she stopped in her tracks and tugged his arm to halt him too. “Teyam?”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to go back there. I mean- well after what happened. It’s just bad memories, baby. Why don’t we start over somewhere new? There’s a vacancy near my parent’s place. One of the council members relocated their family and I heard the place is great. I can help Jxo do some repairs and remodeling if we need it. We can even get all new shit too, what do you think?”

“But…but it’s our home…we can make our own memories there, erase the bad,” she urged with a tilt of her head, not understanding his want for a new place.

He pulled her in with a warm palm behind her neck, the other spanning her ribs, thumbs gently brushing her skin. “Is that what you want?” he asked with a searching look.

Xilä frowned up at him in confusion. She didn’t understand why he’d even moved them into a temporary tent in the first place and now even more so his lack of enthusiasm to return to their home.

She parted her lips to respond but he continued speaking before she could. “Think about it first, okay, sweetheart? We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with but,” he heaved a breath and hesitated as if he should say more, “just promise me you’ll really think about it.”

“Alright,” she nodded, still frowning up at him.

He simply ducked his head to kiss away her pout, then pulled her along with him again.

Their time at her sister’s was eventful. Babies always had a way of easing tension and making anyone feel better.

Xilä kissed and cuddled her niece and nephew for most of the morning, internally swooning whenever her husband interacted with them in any sort of capacity. He was so gentle with them and although the twins had grown from when last she’d seen them, they looked practically tiny in his arms.

“If you don’t give that man a baby soon, Xilä…” D’avi muttered to her quietly as she pretended to busy herself with chopping fruit. “I swear I’m surprised you’re not already pregnant just by the way he’s devouring you with his eyes. Great Mother, he looks like he’s about ready to pounce right here and now.”

“What are you-” Xi’s words died on her tongue when she caught sight of her mate’s heated gaze from across the room. Heated was maybe the wrong word, he was feral- hungry. She glanced away quickly to hide her blush and squeezed her thighs together to help soothe the ache of sudden arousal- an act that did not go unnoticed by Neteyam.

His stare was immovable as he and an oblivious Yalnïk spoke amongst themselves.

D’avi’s eyes bounced between the mated pair, amusement quirking at her lips. “Three weeks.”

“What?” Xi asked distractedly, attention falling to the woman beside her as she shuffled the baby boy around when he released a little fuss from her lack of attention.

“Okay fine maybe four just because I’m sure he’ll want to wait for your bruises to fade a little more before he sends you into a good old proper bliss. If he’s like this all because you’re holding a baby, Eywa only knows what he’s like all the time. Is he rough with you? I’ll bet he is. He looks like he can be downright dangerous in that dep-”

“D’avi!” she hissed, scandalized.

“What?” her sister laughed. “I’m just calling it as it is. That man is completely obsessed with you, Xilä and I’ll bet-”

“Shush!” Xilä shot her a “shut up now,” glare when her mate began to make his way over to them with L’eya in his arms.

“D’av, I think she needs a feeding,” he said, stooping to hand over the whining babe who was gnawing on her little fist. “I’ll take over for you.”

“You’re sweet,” she smiled, taking her baby girl and moving over so Neteyam could resume her prep work.

Xilä stared at his hands while he worked, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she appreciated his fingers, they were long and thick, strong yet gentle…and they could do wondrous, wondrous things to her. She watched the way they moved, following the raised veins on the back of his hands before getting distracted by his forearms, and then his biceps and then-

A shrill cry escaped baby L’eo.

“Aw L’eooo, I’m sorry baby. I’m here, helllooo. Hi, hi.” Xi cooed and awed and smiled as she bounced the unhappy baby boy. “Are you hungry too? Hmm?”

“I’ll take him. They’re way overdue for a nap now,” Yalnïk said, reaching down to take his son gently, disappearing behind their privacy partition.

“Fruit, babe?” Neteyam asked, offering her a piece of melon tree fruit.

“Yes ple-mmm,” she squeaked, when he pressed the slice between her lips, thumb sinking in and brushing her tongue for a fraction of a second before it was quickly swiping at her bottom lip and down her chin.

She eyed him suspiciously when he leaned on a hand to loom over her.

“I’m going to put L’eya down for a nap!” D’avi announced louder than necessary as she too disappeared behind their private quarters, grin wide and giddy.

“Good?” Neteyam asked, doing a far better job than she was, of ignoring her sister’s over the top antics.

Xi nodded as she slowly chewed. “It’s sweet,” she whispered, licking her lips unconsciously.

Neteyam followed the movement, gaze hypnotized by her mouth. His free hand circled her thigh, fingers coming dangerously close to her already wet center. “Should I have a taste too?”

Her chest heaved, eyelashes fluttering and eyes glazing over. “Yes.”

His kiss was a peck at first, almost playful. And then they were both sinking into it. Her wrists locked behind his neck and their tongues and lips and teeth synced in a familiar but well missed dance.

“I want you…now,” he declared against her lips, grip tightening around her thigh.

Xilä’s hips jumped at the touch. “I- um, y- okay. Yes. Now. Now,” she rushed, pushing at his chest, but Neteyam was calm and collected as ever.

“Go say goodbye to your sister and her mate. Thirty seconds,” he all but ordered.

Flustered, she scrambled to her feet on shaky legs and poked her head through the curtain divider, only to be met with an already peeping D’avi- one breast exposed as L’eya hungrily suckled against her.

“D’avi!” she hissed. “By Eywa you are just like Sal.”

“Hey! I reject that. I am not as bad as our mother,” she protested, showing not even an ounce of shame at being caught.

Xilä bit the inside of her cheek to quiet her laughter. “I’m going now.”

“Yeah, no shit. Have fun getting dicked out by your- mmpff!” Yalnïk appeared behind her, palm covering his mate’s blabbering mouth.

“Thanks for coming by, Xi,” he said with an over polite grin mixed with an embarrassed grimace.

The second she stepped back into the main room, Neteyam was snatching her hand and dragging her out with a, “let’s go already!”

“Shh, the babies,” she chastised with a giggle.

They hadn’t had sex since her return. Neteyam had flat out refused the two times she’d initiated, citing she was still on healer ordered bed rest.

There was an unspoken urge now.

Desperate.

Maddening.

Xilä was eagerly climbing into bed and pulling at the ties of her top the second they entered their temporary, cramped space.

An “ooff” escaped her when Neteyam pushed her forward, brandishing a spank to her ass before he covered her with his body, attacking her neck with noisy smacks and nips.

She arched when he ground his hips into hers, fingers becoming frustrated by the knots of her clothes. Impatient, he was quickly tearing and ripping them apart until she was bare to him.

“God- oh Eywa. Baby-” He mouthed down the line of her spine, sucking at the base of her tail which emitted the most arousing sound from her throat.

“Now. Net-ngh. Please just- ah!”

He sank two fingers into her heat without warning, making them both moan in unison. “Fuuuucking hell, baby. You’re drenched and so tight, shit. On your knees, ass up,” he ordered.

Xi panted as he stretched her, hips greedily moving in time with his fingers. Her hands fisted in their sheets when he squeezed her tail.

There was nothing sweet or gentle about their lovemaking. It was all carnal and needy, wild and urging.

In one swift moment his fingers were replaced by something much much bigger. Curses flew from his lips and Xilä screamed at the sudden sensation. The stretch was painfully good.

His hips pulled back then snapped again, making them both groan. And then Neteyam was fucking her ruthlessly, thrusts brutal and sloppy. He used her hips as his anchor, palms only leaving her every now and again to purple her ass when he’d send another spank her way.

It was loud and crude and messy. Full of bites, wild snarls and profanity.

Molten heat thrummed in her belly and the air rushed out of her when he collapsed over her completely as they both reached near their peaks quickly.

“Fuck, fuck fu- oh God you’re so fucking tight Xilä!”

“Neteyaaam!” Her mouth lulled open as the fire erupted, Neteyam’s teeth sinking into her neck as he spilled inside her heat just as a powerful orgasm hit her.

They were both panting and covered in sweat by the end of it and Xilä’s poor knees buckled then gave up when his weight became too much.

One of his hands stretched out to entwine with hers while the other sneaked under to fondle her breast.

“I missed you,” he whispered, so quietly Xi thought she imagined it.

“I missed you,” she sighed.

They basked in the quiet until he grew hard once more- still fully sheathed inside of her. He fucked her again, but far softer this time, slowly and leisurely, drawing out her orgasm until she became putty in is hands, all babbling and pliant and so fucking sexy.

When she eventually escaped his clutches, she ventured into their tiny and almost nonexistent kitchenette, ridiculously dehydrated, desperate to quench her thirst.

“Xilä Sully, I swear if you’ve left our bed to brew that stupid Qla’ira root tea after everything that’s happened, I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

Xi choked on air and turned to stare at her husband’s sprawled position- one arm covering his eyes, legs splayed and dick hard once again as his tail sailed lazily.

“Uh- nope, just getting good old regular water, if that’s okay with you,” she sassed quite sarcastically.

He peeked out at her as if making sure, then shot her a smile that did all kinds of things to her.

“That’s fine with me,” he said cheekily. “Now hurry up. It’s almost time for your second course of meds and I’d very much like to make you scream my name one last time before I have to get your lunch prepared.”

Xilä choked on her water this time around.

The nights were always the worst for Xilä. She could put on a brave face during the day, but when her eyes closed at night, there was no hiding it.

Li’ona haunted her dreams with a vengeance.

Her father- T'shteyo.

Kayoanaska.

Su’ko.

The cave.

Blood.

Death.

Tonight she was trapped in a moving metal box. Blood coated Askadu’s gaunt and aged face. There were chains clinking with a chiming echo all around her. Vhin was clawing at her. Su’ko’s threats on Neteyam’s life played in a loop.

We’ll string him up right beside your father.

A knife.

A struggle.

Her screams.

Death!

Xilä flew up into a seated position with a heaving gasp- panting and shaking severely. Disorientated, she tried to catch her bearings.

Where was she?

Panic crippled her for far too many seconds long before her mind registered her location.

Not a ship.

Not Li’ona.

Not the cave.

She wiped at the sheen of sweat coating her skin, cheeks leaking tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed.

Head following the tail wrapped around her thigh, Xilä breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Neteyam was still asleep. Guilt always bothered her whenever she’d waken him with one of her night terrors…he needed his rest.

It took her a minute to properly ground herself, and then she was carefully easing out from her mate’s hold and swinging out of bed to pull on the nearest top and skirt.

Exiting their tent, she shuddered when the nippy air hit her, but she didn’t mind since it cooled her heated skin. She breathed in deeply, trying her very best to practise the exercises Mo’at taught her.

She was here. She was safe. She was loved.

Her feet seemed to move on their own accord, following the carved out paths of the Omaticaya camp, blindly walking into the soft glowing night.

Or not as blindly as she thought…

Without paying attention, Xilä somehow found herself standing in front of her home. She hadn’t been here since that night.

She hesitated, then, finally finding the courage, she climbed the steps, entered and with shaking fingers she flicked on the tiny switch that illuminated the space in soft artificial light.

A harsh dose of reality hit her when she saw the interior.

Tears sprang in her eyes at the sight of the untouched scene.

Their home was…

Like a floodgate opening, a wounded cry escaped her lips… and the scenes played out before her like one of those human “movies”.

T'shteyo entering their home. His threats, his attack. Her retaliation. The things did- he’d beaten her, hurt her. Drugged, then took her from her home.

Xilä saw herself dragged by the hair, tackled to the ground, struggling as calloused hands closed around her throat- squeezing and squeezing.

Her breathing came out in heavy pants now and she stumbled forward, feet colliding with a pillow- the fort…Tuk…

What if the little girl had slept over that night like she wanted too?

Xilä’s chest tightened.

She slowly approached the pile of splinters that had once held her husband’s prized possessions, the weapons he’d collected and crafted over the years- plunge!

Lips trembling, the memory was clear before her eyes. She’d held the knife, she’d stabbed him. Unseeingly she followed the dot, dot, dot pattern of crimson droplets on the floor. It led her to their private room.

The muted fumes of dried pungent blood was strongest here. The room was sparse, most of their possessions were gone or ruined.

This was not the home she remembered. It was a nightmare.

Overwhelmed, she spun around the room, flashbacks attacking her mind- drowning her, suffocating. She couldn’t breathe.

“You’re lucky he’s not here tonight. I was planning on killing him before we left.”

Air!

Breathe Xilä!

Xilä stumbled out of their room the exact moment someone entered the tent. Eyes blurred by tears, she blinked rapidly to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating. At the threshold stood her husband- a very distressed and panic stricken Neteyam.

Her mate was panting as if he’d been sprinting. His shoulders slumped, a heavy gush of air releasing in utter relief at the sight of her.

Jaw tightening, nostrils flaring, he took a step back, only to approach her in two fast strides. “What is the matter with you? You can’t disappear on me like that, Xilä! What the hell were you thinking just leaving in the middle of the night without telling me anything!” he yelled.

He was angry, no… he was terrified- trembling in distress as furious unshed tears clouded his vision. But then he was instantly deflating when he took in the state she was in. “Baby… Xi, what-”

Xilä crumbled and he was there to catch her.

Sobs wracked her punishingly. She cried for herself, for her husband, for the pain she’d been holding in.

It was gut wrenching, but Neteyam held her the entire time, sinking them to the floor and rocking her in his lap.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m so sorry Te-”

“Shhhh, no, don’t do that,” he soothed, brushing her apologies away. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I've got you,” he cooed, palms caressing her, giving as much comfort as possible.

A few of his own tears escaped him, but he swallowed down his need to fall apart. She needed him.

When her sobs eventually quieted into sniffles and the occasional shudder, he pleaded with her, “Xi, I- please talk to me. I can’t stand you shutting me out. This pretending thing, it’s- I can’t watch you do it anymore. You’re killing me, baby.”

Her head drew backwards to better see him, and whimper escaped her, he looked so… so distraught.

“Is it- is it me, Xi?” He tensed, waiting for her answer. He had always blamed himself for it all- from the get go, but deep down, he feared that maybe she did too.

“What are you talking about?”

“I wasn’t here. I left you and I-” His speech was cut off by her fingertips.

“Don’t do that,” she said sternly, using his own words back at him. “It’s not you- never you,” she whispered fiercely, gentle fingers gripping at his nape.

He sighed, disappointed that she was still holding back. Taking a leap for the both of them, he circled her wrists as if it were his lifeline and geared himself up to speak.

“I haven’t told you this but, I didn’t deal with you being kidnapped very well… I was an emotional mess and a real jerk to the people who were just trying to help me get you back. It brought out a real ugly side of me, a side that didn’t care about the lives I was taking or the lengths I was willing to go to.”

He wiped away the lone tear that escaped her and mildly joked, “Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t regret most of the things that I probably should. It all just showed me that you matter way more to me than I can even comprehend… Xilä, I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you, which is fucking terrifying- like I need you to understand that every time I think I’ve found the limit for just how much you mean to me, I realized that I’m not even an ounce close.”

Xi blinked, digesting everything he’d said, unsure where to even start. “I- I didn’t know all of that. Are you doing better now?”

“Than before? Yeah, I got you back… but you’re still making me worry. I see you struggling, baby. You don’t need to keep it all in. I don’t want you to.” He tucked a braid behind her ear. “What happened to you out there, Xilä?”

She bit her lip, brows drawn together as she considered his words. Xi shrank inwards, unable to face him as she finally recanted her story.

Over the next half hour all she did was talk, and all he did was listen, gaze zeroed in on her lips to not miss out on anything. It was difficult to hear- all of it. At the mention of Su’ko’s intention and attempt to claim her, Neteyam made a soft, wounded noise as if he’d been physically punched in the gut.

By the end he had a million questions he wanted to ask, but the main nagging one tore from his lips before he could help himself- only it came out harsher than he intended.

“He touched you?”

Xi flinched at his tone, then nodded ever so reluctantly. “Not- not badly though- it wasn’t as bad as you’re probably thinking. It-” She stopped to think of how to better phrase it. “Su’ko he just…”

She was downplaying it.

He knew it and she knew it.

“Where.”

“What?”

“Where did he touch you?” He took her hand and squeezed gently. “Show me.”

So she showed him. Her fingers started at her hairline, trailing slowly to meet her cheek, neck, waist, ending at her ankle which was circled by an ugly looking chain-like imprint.

When she was done, Neteyam was kissing her palm and whispering words that didn’t quite reach her ears. His lips found her hairline, and then he was kissing and caressing every inch of her she’d just shown him.

It was intimate, soft and unexpected, but not sexual in the slightest. Soon he was pushing her backwards as he moved down her body, going over each spot with determined precision.

And although her tears had dried by now, a wave of emotion rocked her as he kissed her skin. It was as if he were washing away Su’ko’s touch- replacing them with his own.

Xilä reached for him the second he’d finished with her ankle, lips seeking out his to pour out her own form of attention, apology…gratitude.

“How do you feel?” he asked as they sat side by side now, both quietly observing the shambles of their home.

“Better. So much better,” she smiled. “Thank you… I don’t know what I ever did to deserve yo- don’t laugh,” she chastised, unable to help the giggle that slipped her. “I’ve done nothing but cause you trouble ever since I came to the forest and I’ll bet you wished you chose som-”

He shut her up by claiming her mouth again, a bit more aggressive this time, with a bite to her jaw and a pinch to her butt when he pulled away. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

“Bossy,” she grouched with little heat.

Xilä sighed when she spotted one of her most beloved trinkets from Tuk, smashed into pieces. “We can’t stay here, can we?”

“No… I don’t think I can do it,” he admitted. “We need a new start, Xi. This place will only haunt us.”

“Alright, you're not wrong.”

“Come on.” He helped her get to her feet and drew her into his arms. “We leave it all here tonight, okay? The bad memories included. The moment we leave here, we’re starting over. Only good things ahead. Agreed?”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

“Alright, I can’t stay a second longer. Let’s go, babe.”

On their way out she asked, “Can we at least keep the tapestry?”

“The one on the ground covered in blood? Yeah I don’t think so, Xi. No.”

She gave an exaggerated pout, playfully swatting him with her tail.

“I’ll get you a new one. Promise.”

In the few weeks that followed, Neteyam and Xilä poured all of their free time and energy into fixing up their new home.

They went with the evicted one his mother had told him about. It was large, very large and Xilä was hesitant at first because she didn’t know what they’d do with all that free space.

But as they viewed every empty room, one after the other flashes of a possible future hit her. She smiled as she imagined the rooms filled with toys and clutter and the sounds of running little feet and happy shrieks and giggles.

She had a feeling her husband was thinking the same thing since he pointed out a beam that would “be perfect to track the kids’ heights.”

One perk she was also loving was that they now had access to their own personal water stream. The tent lined the same perimeter as the Sully’s home- four tents down, to be specific, so it shared the same little river trail.

Neteyam didn’t return to his duties all at once at first. He was still very uncomfortable leaving Xi on her own. So whenever he and Jxo worked on repairs in their free time- the father-in-law teaching him a thing or two during the process, he used that time to slowly ease into their separation.

And since Xilä had returned to her lessons- three days a week instead of her usual five, she too was able to help out where she could- not that they let her do anything too strenuous.

Two days after they finally moved, they hosted a small housewarming with their closest friends and family- which turned out to be more people than they thought.

However, with all the free space it wasn’t cramped but allowed for everyone to be comfortable as they lounged and chatted, ate and indulged in a few fun games.

“Full house you got here, brother,” Lo’ak joked when he approached Neteyam, drinks in hand.

Neteyam snorted in response, accepting his drink with again quiet thanks. He glanced around at their main room.

Jake and Jxo always seemed to gravitate towards each other during any family event he’d noticed. The two men- joined by Stephan this time, sipped on their drinks as they chatted, which included lots of head nods and folded arms.

A rowdy game was being played in the center of the room by Yalnïk, his twin, Xilä, Kah’lee and most surprisingly, Neytiri and Sal who’d just joined. Neteyam wondered if it were his mate who’d gotten the two women to actually play as well.

D’avi and her sister-in-law seemed to be scheming, perhaps playing matchmaker as they teased a blushing Tasam and Kiri all whilst Spider shot pointed glares from his own card game with a few of Neteyam’s patrol buddies.

Kids were running and screaming about- Tuk having company her age as Yalnïk’s twin and his wife had brought along their brood of children.

Ze’lu was chasing after them, catching and tossing them up in their air as they shrieked with excitement. Meanwhile a less than covert Leati kept shooting the man fleeting hungry glances- looking every bit like she enjoyed what she was seeing.

“You seem happy,” Lo’ak said, pulling his attention away again.

“I am. Very.”

His brother nodded and an odd expression crossed his face.

“What is it?” Neteyam asked.

“I wanted you to know before I told anyone else… I spoke to mom and dad and I uh, I’m leaving in a couple days. Heading out to Awa'atlu.”

“Awa'atlu? But our trip’s not due for another couple months why would-” He paused. “Oh. Ohh. Tsireya…”

Lo’ak clenched his jaw. He didn’t think it was that obvious. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m wasting my time too?”

Neteyam’s brows shot up at the accusation. “Who the hell told you that?”

“Spider,” he spat with an eye roll. “What does he know?”

“Hmm,” Neteyam clicked his tongue and grinned. “Well I was actually going to say about damn time.”

“Has it been that obvious?”

“Pretty much, baby brother. What got you to finally go after all this time?”

“Uh, you actually. Well you and Xi,” he admitted sheepishly with a scratch to the back of his head.

“Oh?”

“You two are… well I want what you two have… I saw what you were like when she was gone. And when you got her back I- I dunno. I’ve never loved anyone that much. I want that kind of love. The kind that’s sweet but all intense. I tried to find it here but no one…it’s dumb and I know I was a stupid teenager back then but I’ve only ever felt a semblance of it with her… I thought I needed to know for sure before I could move on properly. Does that make any sense?”

“Of course it does. I’m proud of you for doing this, Lo’ak. And ignore Spider, I’m sure he’s only said that because he’s going to miss you.”

His brother grinned. “Thanks… Spider thinks she already mated up with a rowdy bunch of babies,” he said bitterly. “I know he means well and doesn’t want to see me hurt but…some stubborn part of me thinks she waited… for me.”

“Well. Make that two of us, brother.”

“Got any advice on how to win her parents over? From what I remember, Tonowari was an intimidating fucker.”

Neteyam laughed. “Oh yeah, that he was. But Jxo’s got him beat. Don’t worry, Yalnïk and I will give you some tips before you go.”

After chatting for another couple minutes, they were interrupted by Xilä who came over to wrap him up in a hug.

Neteyam pressed a chase kiss to her lips, grinning wide at the sight of her infectious smile. “Having fun, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, yep. You boys, your mother is incredibly competitive. She is cut-throat and no joke.”

The brothers cackled, spotting their mother who was now head to head with the only other final player- Yalnïk. Sal and the others were howling in delight at the pair. It was refreshing to see.

“Dammit, XiXi, will you keep your sister on a leash, she looks like she’s stirring up shit again,” Lo’ak complained with no real heat and a laugh. “Shit. I better get in there before a fight breaks out. He might be little, but he can cause some serious damage.”

Xi and Neteyam watched him leave, both releasing laughs of their own at the sight of him talking down an overly jealous looking Spider who seemed about ready to kill an unsuspecting Tasam.

“Uh-o. Kiri’s got her hands full now… D’avi!” she hissed loudly. “Stop!” she mouthed.

D’avi shot her an innocent look before going over to check on her little ones who were being happily doted on by her mother and Mo’at.

Xilä sighed and slumped into her chuckling husband. He squeezed her gently nosing at her sweet smelling hair.

“Want to go flying later?” he asked. “As much as I enjoy this chaos, I love when it’s just the two of us.”

She nodded in agreement against his chest. Peering up at him, a burst of happiness filled her. “I love you.”

He stared right back. “I love you too, baby.”

“Why is it so difficult to admit that you like him?” Xi asked her friend as she bounced a gurgling L’eya on her knees.

“Because I so clearly don’t!” Leati snapped.

Kay’hlee and Xilä exchanged knowing glances, both doing a poor job of hiding their amusement.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re all my brother talks about at home. He’s smitten with you… Hypothetically, if he did sum up the courage to ask, would you agree to court him?”

Leati’s mouth opened and closed comically, no sound coming out. “I- pfft. What? As if he would ask me to- he… he talks about me?”

“Constantly.”

The poor warrior flushed. Taking pity, Xi removed the attention from her.

“What about you Kah’lee? You and W’aote look pretty cozy lately,” she teased, bringing the baby up to plant kisses all over her chubby cheeks, making her squeal in delight, gummy and drooly grin all on display.

“W’aote is… wild. I never thought I’d be interested in someone like him, but,” she shrugged with a stupid, swoony expression Xi was all too familiar with, “he makes me laugh, all the time and although he’s insanely unromantic and sticks his foot in his mouth half the time, he can be a real softy… The sex is the added bonus- it’s absolutely mind-blowing.”

Xilä and Leati broke out into giggles, L’eya joining in as if she understood their conversation. The introverted and soft spoken Kah’lee surprised Xi more and more every time they hung out.

Xi made her way around the room, spending pockets of time with each of their guests. Midway a conversation between her, Neytiri and Sal, a pair of little arms hugged her from behind, small chin poking the top of her head as a body sagged against her.

“Hi, Tuk,” she greeted.

“Hi, Xi.” Tuk’s face hid in her shoulder with a tiny pout before she plonked herself next to Xi.

“What’s with the face?” Xi laughed, observing the way the little girl stared at the baby as if she were unsure how to feel.

Tuk loved L’eya- and Leo, but sometimes her jealousy got in the way. She was no longer the youngest, and more than once she’d express her unhappiness by vying for the attention of either her parents or siblings if they held either of the babies for too long.

Shaking her head in response, she cuddled into Xi’s side, defiant glare set on L’eya who blinked back at her with big gold eyes.

“Tuktirey,” Neytiri said in a very motherly warning tone.

In the end, Tuk grew bored of the adult conversation and chose to play in Xi’s hair instead.

“How have you been doing, Xi?” her mother-in-law asked.

“Good, really good. I’m sleeping better and finally off the tonics,” she said. “I’ve got my support team especially to thank,” she directed right at Sal. “And my husband of course. Your son is a very patient man,” she joked, gaining chuckles in response.

And it was all the truth. Xilä was doing better. She still had the occasional nightmare or two, but her weekly sessions with the Tsahìk helped plenty. She also vented quite a lot to her mother. Sal was a saint, and although Neteyam did a fantastic job, sometimes a girl just needed her mother.

“Time heals all wounds,” Moat would say.

Her bruises did fade, and her cuts healed nicely, only the one on her cheek left a very faint scar- a scar that her husband was forever kissing or simply brushing with his lips or knuckles.

As the two women continued to chat, Xilä’s gaze found her mate on the other side of the room. He was all grins as he and some of the guys partook in a boisterous game. He glimpsed her way, as if he’d been doing so constantly throughout the afternoon, double taking when he caught her already staring.

“You okay?” he mouthed.

She nodded with a wide beam.

He shot her a silly wink before turning back to his game, loud cheers and groans erupting with whatever play had just transpired.

Later that night, their parents were the last to leave. Hugging them all goodbye, she gave Jake his very own entire loaf of HoneyCornbread she’d purposely set aside for him- much to her father-in-law’s delight.

“Leave it, sweetheart,” Neteyam said, stopping her from starting the clean up when they were finally alone. “W’aote and Spider lost against me and Yalnïk. They’re on clean up duty, so they’ll come over in the morning first thing.”

A laugh escaped her. “Well, alright then. Do you want to go flying now?” she asked, releasing her hair from the ridiculous updo Tuk had put it in, unaware of her advancing mate. “Or um, something else?”

“Something else?” he asked, capturing her hips with his hands.

Her head tipped backwards, expression telling him everything he needed to know.

“Oh that something else…”

She squeaked when he lifted her by the thighs. “I mean we don’t have too, but..”

“What do you want then? Tongue or fingers, Xi?”

“Both. Always both.”

“There she is! She’s back!” Neteyam hooted, jostling her in his arms as he made a beeline for their private quarters. “My greedy little mate is back!”

Gasp! A post? In two weeks?! Who is this?

Happy New Year Lovelies!

Shout out and big thanks to my friend Tori, I couldn't have done it without her.

As always, please let me know what you think :)

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee @faatxma @ivysully @bakugouswaif

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

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dxmoness · 1 year

Note

Hi! How are you? I hope you're doing great! May ask hc of rezef x (fem) reader? Reader is an intelligent,calm, polite and short person and her look and voice are just like dolls and she is cayena's lady in waiting. Please take your time and thank you!

[ AUTHOR NOTE ] Thank you for requesting, nonnie! Sorry this may be short, it's been a while since I made a hc 😭

[ CONTENT WARNING ] yandere / possessive attitude (it's Rezef)

[ PRONOUNS USED ] she/her! But anyone can read ^^

❏ Rezef was known to hate everyone. No matter who it was, his servants or others he loathed them. All except his sister. This was true enough until he met her.

❏ She was Cayena’s new lady-in-waiting. At first Rezef thought she just looked pretty like a doll but that was it. Later after plenty of illegal observations made him realize her potential. This only fueled his tendencies to search and observe her even more and see if someone had eyes on her.

❏ He hated the fact that Name had so many men on her tail, men desperate for her attention. So much that some even tried to make plans of meddling with his new obsession's things and schedules. So he murdered them, he told himself it was because of the fact that Name was Cayena’s lady-in-waiting meaning she needed to be there for her sister. Little did he know it was for other reasons.

❏ He found about his actual reasons when he saw her with another noble. He had hated it. Hated seeing her with another. He had dragged Name away from there and told her to stay away from any men other than him. Clearly possessive. This was when he realized he wasn't doing his actions for Cayena’s sake anymore.

❏ He'd grown so attached that he'd do everything to get her attention. To get her to be in the room with him. Every excuse possible and Cayena still hadn't managed to catch his obsession with the female.

❏ The day he managed a kiss from her was the day he became infatuated. Utterly infatuated. Every bit of him wanted and needed her as his wife.

❏ When his father made it clear that he didn't want him marrying her, he went into a complete anger tantrum. Breaking everything. The audacity of the man. It didn't matter though as he would still do it. Whether his father liked it or not, that woman will be his.

Name stands there, she was called to the prince’s room yet again. Her eyes hold way to the emotions of concern and curiosity.

Rezef sits by his desk, sapphire eyes fixed onto the female. His lips lift up in a smile as he heads to her, eyes glowing with delight as he watched her bow respectfully towards him. “Do you know why I've asked you to come here, my lady?” He stares at her, fondly eyeing her frame.

“No...” She murmurs, her eyes giving way to confusion now. “Why has His Highness called me?” This question made him laugh. A laugh that was one of a cold-hearted male. Name shifted nervously at the sound of it.

The awkwardness lingered as Rezef came closer towards her. Now near her, he reached forward and touched her chin, lifting it to face him. His eyes were ablaze with the feeling of admiration, adoration and lust mixed together as he leaned closer, his mouth near her ear. His hot breath making her shudder. "Has any man ever told you that you look beautiful, doll?" He whispered as his hand still remained stroking her cheek.

Name was quiet. "They have." She said quietly. Rezef just smirks before he neared her lips. "Then allow me to make those men jealous." He whispered, lips touching hers.

tagging, @sxnful-rage

#— the skillfulness of the deities. . . . written works ♡#— a field of dreams and desires. . . . manhwa ♡#the villainess is a marionette #the villainess is a marionette x reader #rezef hill #rezef hill x reader #x female reader #x female y/n #manhwa x you #manhwa x female reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa self insert #x afab reader

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eldritch-spouse · 3 months

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What if Santi's Minx was a woman in a loveless marriage looking to take revenge on her cheating husband?

Basically, s/o is married to a rich man who would rather have sex with his mistress, s/o, who has a high sex drive (obviously she's Santi's match for a reason), so of course she is extremely unsatisfied, and the toys she's bought are just not cutting it anymore. So she thinks, "You know what? The children have left the nest, and I don't have to pretend to be happy with their father anymore."

There was a popular club nearby; she dolled herself up to the nines and left her husband a text she was going out, which he probably won't read anyway. As soon as she sat down at the bar and ordered a drink, the regret started sinking in.

This was the nightmare of every introvert. In that moment, she wanted to come and find somebody to screw, but now that she's faced with the options, she would rather drink herself half-blind. It wasn't until a handsome stranger with bull-like horns and hypnotizing eyes approached her that her night lightened up.

He was a charming fellow and very persistent, even when she stumbled over herself and stuttered like an idiot. She couldn't help but zone in on the fact that he wasn't human. Being raised among humans and only feeling the touch of a human made her curious about monsters, especially monster cocks.

Santi was his name; she would never forget it after screaming it throughout the night. Speaking of night, she was pretty sure none of her holes were left unstretched; all her demands were satisfied, and she came thrice as much with Santi's fucking as with her husband's. It was no wonder she eagerly snatched the card with his number on it.

Every day she had him, the more she started noticing small details about him: the way his facial expression twitched while reading a book, the genuine smile he would give her, and the way he looked at her with that soft look in his eyes. He was everything her husband wasn't. Sure, he slept with others like her husband, but he did it to survive; he did it to not hurt her. But her husband? Whatever excuse that bastard had, she didn't want to hear it. Santi was warm and her husband was cold; she'd no longer have to pray that her husband would find his way back into her bed so that she wouldn't feel so cold and alone, not when Santi was as hot as a furnace and all too happy to whisper, 'I love you's, back to her.

She decided not to drag herself along anymore; she was ready for divorce, but for a final time, she'd make sure to rub how much better she's doing with Santi in her soon-to-be ex-husband's face.

I can just imagine Santi's Minx planning a dinner of four for the two of them with her husband and his mistress. The husband's face pales when he sees Santi walk in, and he realizes his wife can do so much better than him.

Oh your plan is utterly devious. He likes it.

Santi's actually looking forward to meeting the loser that would rather be in bed with subpar scraps than a vixen such as you. He's heard this story a million times, men intimidated by the appetites of their partners, becoming distant, leading those partners crawling to fiends like him. That he'd meet his match in such a way is a massive stroke of luck.

Before Santi walks in with you, he makes it a point to ruffle your feathers and stuff his tongue down your throat. Enough so you walk in with some color on your cheeks.

The high-ranker gives you an award winning smile before handing you a small vial and promising to do something you're going to love. He usually doesn't deal in the kind of substances your vial contains, in fact, he's made it a point to destroy sources of such throughout his life. But what you carry is a certain monster's type of numbing "poison" which makes an incubus' charms and pheromones have little to no effect in you. If you trust him enough to down it, then you're in for a very fun dinner date.

The demon makes sure his hand is around your waist when he walks towards the table you requested, hugging the squish of your body as if it had always been his. He hardly muffles a snort at the little man you got married to. An absolute waste of time, the kind of male that does nothing in bed, something he'd bite for breakfast and promptly toss out the door. And the woman beside him, surprisingly looking more bored than anything. A woman who no doubt already noticed her only gain in being a side-piece to this man is the money.

Sad.

The dinner starts out cordially. Well, as cordial as it can be when you and your ex-husband are clearly having a peacocking competition. All of you order something to eat, Santi orders something to drink, many subtle digs are made at your husband's lack of sexual finesse, with Santi effortlessly setting up traps amidst the conversation, which your agitated and insecure ex-lover readily falls for. He doesn't make a single pass at his mistress, but she's looking at him anyway, for rather shameless amounts of time.

Then the fun really starts, as Santi begins silently pumping his pheromones out and shooting stares at both your ex and his mistress. It works like a filthy charm. While you are relatively composed, the man and his lover begin to sweat in place, to lose their cool, fawn over Santi restlessly. He brings them down to unfathomably horny lows where they not so subtly proposition him. And then, all control is handed to you.

In this state, they will do anything he commands them to under the velveteen promise of relief. So what would you have them do, minx? Crawl outside on all fours? Clean the soles of your shoes? Would you like to see Santi make them orgasm in their own clothes?

He wouldn't mind fucking them into putty just as a sign of dominance, but you get to decide whether or not that happens. After all, this is your special night.

#Santi oc

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c-nstantine · 8 months

Note

I'm also so obsessed with mk rn. Could you write more Bi-Han arranged marriage headcanons👀 sfw or nsfw idrc lmao😭also, I LOVE all of your stuff❤️

@blckbarbiedoll I have been thinking about this for a hot minute. also thank you !!!

Bi Han doesn't seem like he would actively try to find a wife

Now, if it was the best way to solve a political issue, he'd be all for it (his first thought was to go to war with the clan though)

Let's say Y/N is a princess of a neighboring clan and her father offers her to Bi Han

Bi Han does accept this

I will say even though he's gruff, he's very respectful about the entire situation

He gives Y/N her own chambers, handmaidens, hot springs and whatever she desires

It isn't until he catches her crying one day that he realizes that she might've wanted some resemblance of a normal marriage

"I have a husband who does not even like me,"

So from then on he does try to be a more active husband

He actually converses with Y/N and learns some of her interests

NSFW below

The first time they have sex, Bi Han had just come back from a mission and he just to show Y/N that he was okay

She runs and hugs him

When they pull away, they like stare into eachother's eyes and kiss

Now it's not like Bi Han is a virgin but he normally fucks

This was the first time that he made love

I think I've said this before but ruins the chances of Y/N being satisified with any other man

First of all, he's big like real big so he takes his time to prep her

Carefully stretching her out with his tongue and fingers before the thought of his dick entering her

When he finally does put his dick in her, he is very careful and goes slow so that she can feel every inch of him

By now Y/N's cum like twice

The first round is in missionary because he likes to see her face while he's destroying her pussy

Assuming Y/N's a virgin, he taught her how to ride him and if she's not a virgin, it's the first time she's ridden a guy this big

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #bi han smut #mk bi han #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han

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nerdforestgirl · 15 days

Text

Note: Hey. It's fourteen years since the first appearance of Amy Farrah Fowler, or Fluff Crawlspace if you will. I wrote a thing. I hope you enjoy it. This is not Amy Farrah Fowler enough, but it's what I have. It's cute.

“Go, Leonard,” Sheldon yelled from his spot in the stands. He actually had no idea if his son was anywhere close to scoring, but he usually cheered the boy on any time he go close to the goal. Sheldon didn't understand much of the game beyond what he picked up from watching NHL games with Leonard (which was really playing on his phone while the game played in the background). It didn't really matter. Amy reminded him that he needed to at least try to take interest in his son's hobbies. This was him trying.

“Daddy, I'm cold,” a little voice said from beside him.

“Oh no,” Sheldon said playfully. This was a common complaint from his daughter. She was too used to the California sun to want to spend so many of her Saturdays at the ice rink. She was bundled up in a jacket and gloves, but sometimes they just weren't enough.

Sheldon took off his hockey jersey and pulled it on over his daughter's head and over her arms. It was comically large on her small frame, but it should help keep her warm. Still, he knew that he would probably be taking her to the snack stand for a cup of hot chocolate before the game was over.

Sheldon picked up his daughter and pulled her onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her. This was more for him that for her. Without the jersey, he was a little cold himself. Still, his little girl leaned into his chest and looked back down at her book.

“What are you reading?” Sheldon said quietly into her ear.

“Mommy's favorite,” she said proudly as she showed him the cover. It was an ancient and beat up, but well loved copy of The Long Winter. Amy had gotten her old set of The Little House on the Prairie books from her own mother about a month ago, and had promptly handed them over as long as the little girl promised to take good care of them. So far, she had done an excellent job.

Sheldon couldn't believe how much he enjoyed watching his children become actual humans. It seemed like no time since they had both been little blobs that just drank milk, pooped, and slept all day. And yet, somehow they had both grown into real people with interests all their own.

Sometimes he could see the little pieces of himself and Amy in them. Other times, he could see Georgie, Missy, his mother, his father, Meemaw, Pop Pop, and even his uncle Stumpy once or twice. People his children had never even met had wormed their way in. And on occasion, that drove Sheldon absolutely crazy. Other times, he didn't mind so much. He loved all of those people for a reason, so it wasn't bad to see them show up in his children. Except for Leonard's inexplicable habit of saying “ain't” after one week with his Uncle Georgie.

“Daddy, can I have a snack?”

“She will ruin her dinner,” Amy reminded Sheldon without even looking away from the game. It was getting intense, but it was at the other goal, so Sheldon wasn't as invested. He knew he wouldn't miss a goal from Leonard.

“Come on. Just a hot chocolate?” Sheldon asked his wife. His daughter didn't ever have to try to convince her mother to do anything. She had Sheldon so wrapped around her little finger that he did it for her.

“One hot chocolate. And bring me one too,” Amy agreed. It was chilly in here after all.

“And maybe some popcorn,” Sheldon muttered.

“No,” Amy said.

“I can't hear you,” Sheldon said as he was already walking away. He heard everything his wife said, but he wanted to spoil the girl a little anyway. He realized that his hand was empty, so he turned back.

“Coming, Mary?” Sheldon asked as he reached out his hand toward her.

Sheldon's daughter ran to catch up to her father and placed her small hand in his. He knew there were a limited number of days left that she would be willing to hold his hand, and he would not let go until that day came.

#nfg fan fiction #shamy fanfic

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two-white-butterflies · 2 years

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coaxed you into paradise

Chapter One: Brown Eyes. Description: Saera Targaryen was her father's forgotten daughter. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her sister and seeks solace in the arms of her uncle. Not realizing that the consequence of their affair is just as dire as her sister's.

masterlist

SHE COULDN'T remember the day she fell in love with Daemon. Only that the fall was a glorious one. Perhaps there was an allure in something clandestine, how they'd both live of stolen glances and crave each other's touch at night.

There was a thrill in something that you cannot have. "Should I give you a kiss before you leave?" Saera jokes as Daemon begins to put on his armor. He wasn't a bulky man, but you could see that he had muscles — his nose was defined and his eyes were lilac purple.

"What thrill would I have from something I am entitled to?" he replies as he pecks her lips gently. It would be another eon before they meet again. She sighs under his touch and leans into his embrace. "I will miss you," she whines as he chuckles lightly.

He'll be in Driftmark, meeting his future wife — Laena Velaryon. The next time he'll return, he'd be a married man. But not untouchable — not when his heart still belonged to the woman inside Saera Strong.

"I'll miss you more," he replies as he presses another kiss to her forehead. She reaches for his shoulders, and allows her hands to touch the coldness of his armor. "When you come back," she starts as she meets his eyes.

"You'll be a different person, but I'll still be the same. The same loving, the same passion..." she ended as his arms slowly crept onto her neck. He presses another needy kiss unto her temples, "Your father should've allowed me to take your hand in marriage." he spat as she laughed.

Her white locks blowing with the wind. "My father listens to no one, and sees no reason. You should've stolen me, and made me your wife." she retorts as she plays with the corners of his metal armor.

She pleaded for him to take her. It was her wedding with Ser Harwin Strong — and every night after that, was one filled with the darkest of regrets. "Now you'll have to leave me alone. With my husband who defiles our vows every night, with my sister who doesn't know any better." she tries to persuade him but he smiles at her softly instead.

The Velaryons and The Strongs were more valuable as allies rather than enemies. He places a hand on her cheeks, as his lips shudder in regret. "You must be strong for me, Saera. Dragons do not cower under flames." he pleads and she nods.

NEWS OF RHAENYRA'S labor reached far and wide. Soon enough, the entire realm was celebrating — and feasts were being scheduled here and there. Saera could see that Harwin was nervous, her brain knew the reason why — but her heart couldn't believe it.

Rhaenyra's children were sired by Ser Harwin. It was evident in the way he paced and constantly rambled with Ser Leanor. "Harwin, it seems to me that you are more worried that the-father-to-be." Saera remarked sarcastically as Harwin halts.

He scratches the back of his neck and she rolls her eyes. "I'm not nervous, Saera" he responds softly as he sits down beside her.

They've been married for 5-years, they've loved each other for 3, not once has she fallen pregnant with his seed. In her eyes it seemed like the Gods would not grant them a child together for their union was a sham.

"Well, you should be. My sister is giving birth to her heir." she replies coldly and he raises his eyebrows. She looks away from him, until she feels him sitting a few centimeters closer. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, and he places a hand on her lap.

"Have I done anything wrong?" he questions while Saera bites her lips. She turns and smiles, "I'm sorry, I'm probably worried about Nyra." she lies and he nods and places a kiss on her face.

SAERA BITES BACK A GASP as she exchanges a confused stare with Queen Alicent. "He is a handsome young boy," King Viserys smiles as Prince Jacehaerys coos lightly. Even a blind man could see that this child wasn't Ser Laenor's.

Harwin smiles from behind his wife as they both stared into The Young Prince. He had the brownest honey eyes that pierced into Saera's soul. As if the baby was mocking her, laughing at her inability to carry his father's children.

"He is adorable," Saera breaks her silence as Rhaenyra stares at Ser Harwin. They both felt a little guilty about the ordeal. "Thank you, sister." Rhaenyra smiles as she offers Jace. "Would you like to hold him?" she offers and Saera scowls.

Was she trying to shove it deeper in Saera's face? That she fucked her husband behind her back? "No thank you," she declines as she gathers her gown and excuses herself from the room.

next chapter >>

#daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #ser harwin strong x oc #harwin strong x oc #daemon targaryen x reader #coaxed you into paradise

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

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If possible could you do a G!P Kate Bishop x Barton Reader where reader and Kate have been trying for a child for a while and soon reader finally becomes pregnant and eventually gives birth on Christmas

Little peanut

Pairings: g!p Kate Bishop x Barton!reader

Word count: 2283

Warnings: small smut, angst with a happy ending, fluff, reader is pregnant, Kate has a penis don’t like it don’t read, giving birth, overprotective Kate

Summary: When you were starting to lose hope in having a baby with your wife you received some good news

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“We’re here!” Yelled your wife in the medium sized farm house, laughing when the youngest came running to the two of you. You smiled seeing how she handled the four year old boy.

“Hey little guy! How’s it going?” He quickly went into a rant about a new toy that he got and dragged her to his room. Your mother greeted you with a large hug as your father did the same moments after.

“Hey pumpkin.” You groaned at the nickname as Clint laughed and grabbed you and Kate’s bags, bringing them to the guest bedroom and laying them down on the bed. Laura dragged you into the dining room and sat you down to start chatting with you.

“So, how’s it going with, you know.” Her small smirk quickly faded seeing your defeated sigh, placing her hand on top of yours she silently reassured you. She stood up and grabbed some coffee for herself and tea for you knowing that coffee isn’t great for pregnancy. You gave a tight lipped smile when receiving the still hot mug.

“Thanks ma, I’m just so sick of waiting. We’ve been trying for almost a year now and still there’s nothing. I’m starting to think that maybe I’m not supposed to be a parent.” Tears filled your eyes as you spoke, the thought hurting both you and your mother.

“Oh honey, of course you are! You’re so well with your siblings and I know that someday you’ll have a child, whether it’s biological or even adoption. Now, you have been tested for your fertility but has Kate? Maybe since she is a little different from most women, she can’t have kids?” The realization hit you, maybe she actually wasn’t able to have kids. The both of you have gone to multiple doctors to see if you were fertile but neither of you ever thought to get her tested as well.

“N-no, we haven’t. I didn’t really ever think of that but it makes sense now that I think of it.” More tears left your eyes and your mom engulfed you in a large hug, now having tears of her own. She muttered out reassuring words while you tried calming yourself down as you heard Kate running down the stairs. You didn’t want her seeing you like this. She walked in with a large smile on her face but it disappeared when seeing you. Laura nodded to the woman, signaling for her to come and comfort you. You looked over to finally make eye contact with your wife as she rushed over to you, immediately bombarding you with questions.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Can you tell me what’s on your mind.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and finally spoke, letting out all of your feelings and emotions. Kate listened intently with every word, her eyebrows furrowing more every time you spoke.

“Oh baby, come here.” She wrapped her arms around you tightly and pressed kisses to your head before speaking once more. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m right here. I’ll always be here.” She brought you up to your room and gave a small thank you to the brown haired woman, giving a sad smile when Clint saw you two. Laying you down on the bed she held you tightly until you finally fell asleep, smiling into your skin as she joined you in resting for the first time today.

You woke up to the feeling of someone grinding against you, a large bulge pushing back and forth against your form. Turning over you see Kate’s flushed face as she’s using one hand to grope your body and the other to play with her own breasts.

“K-Katey-” She quickly shushed you by shaking her head fastly, whimpering against your neck as she positioned herself to go on top of you.

“Let me just fuck you, please? I’m so fucking horny right now, I need you so bad. I’ll get you pregnant this time I promise, I’ll put my babies in you I promise.” You hesitantly agreed, knowing that your family was just downstairs and could possibly hear you if you’re too loud.

“Okay, but just be quiet. I don’t need my dad hearing me scream out daddy.” You both let out a small chuckle before she connected her lips with your own, undoing her pants and rubbing herself onto you.

Almost a month went by and the two of you never stopped trying, you were surprised you haven’t got a noise complaint yet with how loud you were. Although this week was different, you had less of a sex drive and had even started puking in the morning. When you found out that you were a few days late for your period as well Kate rushed home from work and held you while you waited for the results.

“I’m scared Kate, what if it comes back negative?” The woman hugged you tighter and grabbed your face in her hands, leaving pecks all over you until she reached your lips. Giving you a long, passionate kiss as to calm you down slightly.

“It will be okay babe, and if it comes back negative we just keep trying like we always do.” “I’m tired of trying, I just want to be pregnant already.” The woman nodded, seemingly agreeing with your statement. She held you once again until the timer went off, standing up she slowly walked over to the counter and flipped over the tests. A large grin took over her face and you looked up excitedly, hoping she’d say they came back positive. Standing up you walked over to your wife and looked at the object on the paper towel, seeing two lines on each stick. You lightly gasped and turned to the other woman, noticing she was still awe struck, pulling her into your arms as you spilled a few happy tears onto her shoulder.

“I can’t believe it, we’re gonna be moms.” Kate whispered into your hair as she kissed the top of your head repeatedly, leaning back to finally look at you. You nodded and said happily, “We’re gonna be moms.”

Later that night you both facetimed your family, making sure everyone was there to see.

“Okay, okay, now what’s the big news?” Your mother asked impatiently. You both grinned and turned the camera around to show the big surprise. Gasps echoed throughout the phone as they all stared in shock and disbelief.

“Are you serious right now? I’m finally going to be a grandma!” Laura yelled out excitedly as everyone else congratulated you. You and Kate thanked them all as you heard loud noises in the background.

“Clint! Where’s my jacket? I’m going to go see them!” You both laughed at your mother’s antics and talked to them for another hour until you said your goodbyes and hung up, going to bed as you held one another tightly.

The next few months were torture, you continuosly nagged your wife to buy all of your cravings and she did with little complaint. You were throwing up almost everyday and couldn’t enjoy your favorite foods from before. Kate even went to the store and bought what seemed like hundreds of parenting books and read them all, writing down her own notes for each and every thing. When it came to your third trimester she was even worse, not letting you do anything by yourself, making sure to hold you with every step you took as in her words, “You might hurt yourself and the baby.” You found it cute how much she truly cared for you and the little peanut in your belly, the nickname that she gave them. When you both found out you’d be having a baby girl you two got started on the nursery, well, she did. She refused to let you move a muscle and even had Clint come over to help her build the crib. Your parents were just as protective and happy about the pregnancy as you guys were, calling almost every night to see how you’re doing and going to every appointment even if it was two hours away. Your siblings were excited to finally have a niece even bought you both gifts for when the baby was born. On Christmas morning you awoke to breakfast in bed and a smiling Kate delivering it.

“How’s my beautiful wife this morning?” You laughed slightly and Kate soon brought you into a large kiss, muttering a ‘Merry Christmas baby’ against them. She leaned down and kissed your large belly, repeating the same words to them as she did you.

“I can’t believe this will be the little one’s first Christmas.” You wished you could take a photo of how happy Kate looked, the thought of the baby always made a cheek hurting smile appear on her face.

“Well, technically it’s not the baby's first Christmas until she’s actually born and out of my belly.” “Shhh, let me be excited.” The two of you shared a few laughs as she soon dragged you to the living room where all the presents laid. Upon opening the first few gifts you felt as though you had to pee and blamed it on your small blatter. Walking to the bathroom you stopped when you felt liquid dripping down your leg, looking down to see a large wet spot on the ground.

“K-Kate.” “Yeah babe? Everything okay?” She asked as she started speed walking over to you. She cut herself short when seeing the floor and your pants, realizing what was happening.

“Oh-oh my god. We need to get you to a hospital now, go in the car, I'll grab the go bag!” You nodded but were stopped with a sharp pain to your stomach. Using the wall to lean yourself on you yelled out in pain as Kate rushed over to help you up, walking you to the car instead.

“It’s going to be alright, everything will be just fine!” She repeated, you questioned if she was saying it to you or herself.

On the way to the hospital she called your family and told them everything while they slightly panicked and informed you both that they’d be there in an hour or so. When arriving at the building Kate hurriedly checked you in and you were immediately put into a room until you were fully dilated. Your wife held your hand through every type of pain and tried distracting you, only to end up being yelled at by you.

“Kate, if you don’t shut up I swear to god I will chop off that dick of yours! That’s what you get for doing this to me.” Her eyes widened and she sat down quickly, trying not to anger you more. Your parents and siblings rushed into the room after a little more than an hour but quickly saw your pained expression along with Kate’s scared one.

“Hey honey, how you doing?” When you calmly answered the woman's question Kate stared at you with pure confusion.

“Why aren’t you yelling at her? When I said the same thing you threatened to chop my dick off.” Your dad stifled a laugh as you stared the woman down.

“Because at least she didn’t get me pregnant and put me through this.” “You’re the one who wanted a baby even more than me!” Your parents watched the scene unfold with an amused face, wanting so desperately to laugh at your words and Kate’s reactions.

“Oh don’t even fucking star-” “Okay! That’s enough! Stop acting like literal children when you’re twenty-eight and you’re twenty-nine.” You were going to say something until another shock of pain hit you. Laura and Kate held you hand as Clint stood off to the side awkwardly, not exactly knowing what he should do.

After a few very painful and stressful hours the doctor finally came in to bring you into the delivery room, stating that you were fully dilated and ready to give birth. Your wife and your mother stayed to watch and help you while Clint went out to the waiting room where his kids were. Screams were heard loud and clear as the baby finally started to crown. Kate had tears running down her face and so did Laura as she looked to see the baby, dragging your wife to come see it as well.

“It’s so gross yet so beautiful.” She muttered out. When loud cries echoed throughout the room you looked up to see the baby in the doctor’s hands, smiling in full glory seeing your daughter. The man asked if Kate would like to see the little one to which she excitedly nodded, jumping up and down slightly while she clasped her hands together.

“You did it, I’m so proud of you.” Came your mothers voice. You looked over to her and tiredly smiled, letting her hug you tightly before joining your wife with the baby. The doctor walked over to you and handed you the newborn, congratulating you in the process. You thanked him and he left as the rest of your family piled in, awing at the child in your arms.

“You know, it’s funny because the first time we fucked in your parents house you found out you were pregnant soon after. Maybe it’s a Barton house thing, it would explain how you have so many siblings.” Kate said out of the blue, receiving many looks from everyone else and a stern look from the now grandparents.

“What’s fucking?” Came your little brother's voice. You all shared a look before bursting out laughing while your parents were still glaring at Kate with their mouth wide open.

“You had sex in our house?!” “Uh oh.”

#kate bishop x reader smut #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop smut #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x gender neutral reader #kate bishop #hawkeye #anon ask #kate bishop angst #kate angst

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honeygrahambitch · 7 months

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Hot take incoming, the night Alana visits Will and he was looking for the raccoon and they kiss, they also end up sleeping together then yeah for the sake of this plot Will doesn't tell Hannibal about it.

One week later after telling Will that he is too broken for her she ends up sleeping with Hannibal and then after some time she figures out she is pregnant.

She can't really tell who is the father and her doctor doesn't help too much because in that time span it could have been either of them.

And if she had to take a paternity test, she would have to admit to both of them that she slept with the other. And in such a short time as well. So yeah tough situation for our girl Alana.

In the end she decides to tell Hannibal that it's definitely HIS, since he was the last she had slept with. And she is surprised when Hannibal says that he actually wants to be involved and stuff. They wait for 3 months before telling everyone about it and oh lord, Alana's life is not easy since she thinks about the possibility of carrying Will's child every single night.

Her relationship with Hannibal is going...well. It's mostly sex, psychiatry talk and Will Graham talk. He is now locked up for the crimes he might have committed and it's somehow putting her mind at ease cause it makes the problem seem "far away".

During her 4th month she starts showing so it can no longer be a secret that she is pregnant. The worst part is that she really would have loved to enjoy the whole ride. She was happy about having a baby and sometimes the thought that consoled her best was that neither Will nor Hannibal were bad choices. The issue about Will was his mental illness but the kid didn't have to inherit it. It was all a genetics game.

And if it was Hannibal's child, even better. They would make great parents. They were both very sane people. This thought was what helped her sleep at night.

Time passes and Will is freed. He starts therapy again. He has no idea about Alana's pregnancy and he doesn't know enough about her relationship with Hannibal. So when Hannibal gives him the news, it quite comes as a shock. He tries not to show it but it breaks him.

Out of politeness he asks about how long Alana has until she is giving birth and he doesn't really do the math in that moment. He does it in the middle of the night when he realizes that they have had sex exactly 4-5 months ago. Then...had Alana slept with Hannibal so soon after? He felt like a broken toy but at the same time, the more concerning problem was the one about the pregnancy. Was there a possibility that he was the father? Was Hannibal the father? The thoughts kept him up until morning.

He confronts Alana about it and oh boy, she certainly did not expect that. She denied it and denied it and denied it until she admitted that "maybe" that was a possibility.

He is very serious about the idea of being a father figure so he wants the paternity test. And he absolutely doesn't want Hannibal to raise his own child. Not now when he was so driven to unmask him. It's not even about Alana anymore. He no longer feels anything for her since she had never even been able to believe in the best of him.

She knows she has to tell Hannibal. And Will himself wants to tell Hannibal that his kid might be in fact, his. However he agrees that Alana should have this talk with Hannibal since she is so nicely playing the "wife" role.

Hannibal's face stayed neutral during the whole length of the discussion. More than anything, he is intrigued about how the tables have turned. Certainly this was something he had not planned or seen coming. He, as much as Will does, wants to know who the father is.

He felt betrayed by Alana but not that much to make it personal. It was comprehensible that she could not tell him that she had slept with Will one week before sleeping with him. In the end, neither of them expected that to happen.

He hated the fact that he had bonded with the idea of having a baby and that it might be taken away from him. The same way he "took" Abigail away from Will.

(if you have made it to the end of this post, then you should know I have no idea what happens next. So, yeah, I had to share it because it's such an entertaining plot. Feel free to reblog with potential endings)

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #alana bloom

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topguncortez · 2 years

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OMG!!! So excited!!

“ ah… i know. morning sickness is no fun, huh? ” For Bradley?!

pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x pilot!female warnings: mentions of vomiting, mentions of difficulties getting pregnant. prompts list!

It was no secret that Bradley Bradshaw was head over heels in love with his wife, Y/N, who just happened to be a fellow aviator in the dagger squad. When they had both gotten the call that they were needed back at TopGun they were on opposite ends of the earth. Y/N was stuck in Lemoore, sweating in the hot sun, and Bradley was in Korea wishing he was home.

They had been married a little over two years, and the topic of children had come up only a hand full of times. It wasn't that Bradley didn't want kids, is that he held a lot of fear of what happened to his father. Y/N could see it in the way that he flew, always reserved, never really pushing the limit like his godfather. Bradley didn't want to leave his wife in the same position his mother had been left in some 30 years ago, widowed with a young child.

But there was something about hearing her husband get shot down while she stood on a aircraft carrier that had changed something in the both of them. Bradley had realized as he was packing his chute up that he had no legacy to leave behind. Yeah, he had his wife, and she had his name, but that was it. The Bradshaw bloodline could've ended right then and there on some snow covered mountain. When Bradley had gotten back to her that night, he decided that now was the time, he wanted kids.

And so the trials and tribulations of trying to conceive began. The Bradshaws were having sex at any time possible. Y/N had always tracked her period and ovulation, and now Bradley had too. He had done research on the best possible ovulation times, and would give his wife a look, and they'd sneak off to the closest bathroom or locker room for a quickie. In the years of knowing Bradley, Y/N never knew that he had a breeding kink until lately.

They had been trying for over six months, and nothing. Every time Y/N thought her period was late and would get excited, it would surprise her. When she thought she was experiencing possible morning sickness, it turned out that she was just hungry. She was starting to get discouraged and sex was starting to feel like a full time chore. But Bradley and their doctor had assured her; she was healthy, everything looked okay, and their time would come.

And it did. One morning Y/N was brushing her teeth, and saw the box of pregnancy tests in her drawer and thought 'fuck it' and took one just to humor herself. However, she didn't expect it to come back positive. Y/N about passed out from shock, and took another one, getting the same result. Y/N had called her midwife and asked if she could be seen as soon as possible. And that ultrasound confirmed what she already suspected, Y/N Bradshaw was pregnant.

Y/N hadn't told Bradley yet, but she did tell Maverick. She knew that she couldn't keep flying while being pregnant, and Maverick did what he could to keep her on the ground, and to not let Bradley get too suspicious. She sat next to Bradley in the briefing room, as Maverick was going over some new flight plans, and was trying hard to not throw up.

"You good?" Bradley asked his wife. She turned to him and nodded but Bradley was not convinced, "You sure? You look like you're gonna throw up."

"Yeah, I just need to, yeah, excuse me," Y/N said, and stood up from her seat abruptly. All the eyes of her fellow Dagger squad members looked at her as she left, and Bradley sat there in confusion. He looked up at his godfather, who gave him a look and nodded, letting him know it was okay to chase after his wife. Bradley got up and quickly made his way the same direction his wife went.

Bradley had slipped into the women's restroom and was met with the sound of someone getting sick. His heart started racing as he could see her kneeled on the ground in one of the stalls. He moved quickly, and opened the door, kneeling down next to her and rubbing her back.

"You're okay," Bradley said, "Let it out, baby, it's okay."

“Ah… i know. morning sickness is no fun, huh?" Y/N said, and leaned back against her husband.

"No it's not- wait, morning sickness? You're pregnant?" Bradley's brown eyes lit up, "Like you're for serious right now? You're pregnant?"

"I'm pregnant," Y/N smiled and Bradley pulled her in for a hug.

"I'd kiss you right now, but you just threw up your guts, but I love you so fucking much."

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winniemaywebber · 1 month

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It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 3

🌹 Uncle Rosie 🌹

read previous part here

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @archival-hogwash

“Goodnight, you two!” you say as you watch your friends leave the room, Harry's arm wrapped around his wife. The look on their faces as they realize they get to share a bed for the first time in weeks because you're there to help sends a warm glow through your body. Happy to be here, yet missing home, you decide to call your Ma before it gets too late. The baby is dozing softly in the bassinet next to Croz's armchair and you tiptoe out of the room to ensure he isn't woken.

Dialing the number on the phone in the hall, you wait patiently.

“Rosenthal residence,” a voice says.

“Ma,” you reply, happy to hear her. “It's me. Just wanted to let you know I got here safe.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear it, Robbie. How are the Crosbys?”

“Oh, they're great, Ma. Being excellent parents just like I knew they would be. I'm helping em out tonight, making sure they get a good rest together.”

“That's wonderful, son. I'm glad you're there to help.”

“Me, too. Now, Ma,” you begin nervously. “If the baby wakes up…what do I do?”

“Robert,” she sighs, instantly exasperated. “Did you make your poor, dear friends think you had it handled?” You pause, nervous to respond.

“Y-yes,” you finally stutter out. “But they need their rest and I couldn't leave them exhausted like that and I–”

“Son, it's easy. Change the diaper, heat the milk.”

“R-right…easy,” you pause again, shifting from one foot to the other. “How do I heat it?”

“Leave it in the bottle and put that in a pot of boiling water on the stove. Keep an eye on it. Not too hot, you don't want to burn the little fella's mouth, now. You'll be fine. It'll be good practice for you when your time comes with Josephine.”

At the mention of her name, you hear a cheeky cackle in the background. You smile at the sound, your heart suddenly beating ten to the dozen at the thought of her beautiful smile, how her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs at one of your terrible jokes.

“Did she come for dinner?”

“Yes, son. She's spending the night, too. Nobody to take her home and I don't want her getting a cab at this hour.”

“That's sweet, Ma. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Hold on just a minute…” there's a pause on the other end of the line until you hear your mother attempting to whisper.

“He's with the baby…yes, he seems to be in over his head,” you hear her laugh.

“Ma!” you shout over the line, eyes squeezed shut. “Don't tell her!” With that, the baby begins to wail from the next room and you sigh. “Ma, I have to go. The baby.”

“Good luck, Robbie. Josephine sends her love.”

“And I send it right back. G'night.”

Placing the phone into its cradle, you rush along the padded carpet to tend to the baby.

“Hey, hey buddy,” you say as you reach him, hands going to lift him from his bed. “How's it goin’?” You coo, hoping you're able to calm him easily. Stroking his head with your gentle hand, he seems to relax instantly. “Huh,” you say, carrying on the movement. “Piece of cake.”

Not quite asleep yet, you carry the baby in your arms over to the record player. Flipping through the Crosby record collection with your free hand, you find one that catches your eye. “Now this,” you murmur to the small child in your arms, his big brown eyes - exactly like his father's - gazing up at you as you place the record on the player one-handed, “is good jazz, little Croz.”

The sounds of Artie Shaw softly blare through the room, you sitting down in the armchair.

“Did you know,” you begin, looking at the baby's sweet face. “Now, I dunno if your Pop told you this yet. But there was a mission where me and my crew were completely alone. I don't mind telling ya, kid, I was petrified - who are you gonna tell, after all?” You muse on that for a moment. “Okay, maybe you'll tell your father, but that's fine by me. Anyway, completely alone, nothing but blue sky in front of me and my co-pilot. All I could think to do was to hum along to this.” You carry on telling the story as the music swells, rambling on about how all you could think of was getting back to base in one piece, being able to be back home for your Ma and your sweet Josephine.

“That's Aunt Jo, by the way, kid. The second I marry her, I'm bringing her to see you. She's dying to see you, pal, and your sweet mama. So was I. We best buddies now? What d'ya say? Uncle Rosie pass the test?” At that final sentence, the baby's eyes close and he's softly snoring on you, his head burrowing into your chest. You feel your heart swell, tears suddenly pricking your eyes. You think back to that New Year during the war, where you'd written to Josephine, promising her the world, whatever she chose. Holding your friend's sleeping infant in your arms makes you realize that you want life to look like this with her.

You lay the baby down in his bassinet, the music softly playing in the corner of the room helping to soothe him, and you make your way back to the telephone. Dialing the number for home, you wait as the line rings.

Hello?” A voice, thick with tiredness and hoarse from laughter. “Robbie?”

"Darling,” you breathe out, the sound of her sweet voice almost making you fall to your knees. Composing yourself, you carry on. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“How's our nephew?” she coos, her voice up an octave.

“He's fine, my love. Has eyes just like his Papa. Hair like his Mother. Angelic face just like his Aunt Jo.”

"Oh, stop,” she teases. “How did you get on in the end? Your ma said you sounded quite panicked.”

“It was fine. Pretty easy, actually.” You take a deep breath in, preparing yourself for what you're about to say next. “I just wanted to reiterate what I meant in that letter, that new year. Being here has made me realize it more. Jo, I want to give you everything. A family, a herd of kids. Anything you want.”

“Darling…” she murmurs. “Then hurry up and marry me. I'm impatient.” You laugh, switching the phone to your other ear.

“Besides,” she carries on. “Judging by your panic, I think we should wait a little longer to talk about having kids.”

You sigh, playfully. “But we can still practice making ‘em, right?”

“Robert, your mother is stood right next to me.”

“Oh–uh…uh oh.” Luckily, you hear your sweetheart giggle as she struggles to come back to normal.

“I love you, darling,” she whispers. “Goodnight.”

“I love you, sweetheart. I'll be dreaming of you.”

“And me. Bye, Robbie.”

The phone clicks as you hear a tiny cry from the living room, the record having ended. Putting the phone back in its place, you walk back to the room, excited to share more anecdotes with your new best friend.

thank you to @ginabaker1666 and @sagesolsticewrites for reading this over and over to make sure it was PERFECT 🥰

masterlist

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #rosie rosenthal #harry crosby #jean crosby #its been a long long time #winnie writes #rosie rosenthal x oc

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pocketramblr · 6 months

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Inspired by the 'Tenya is All mights son', what about an AU where Shouto is a result of Rei having an affair with All might? For maximum drama Shouto still has half hot half cold.

1- "where the hell did the hot half come from" Toshinori's mother had a fire quirk. He got his quirklessness from his father. The fire skips generations but everyone is hot I guess. Maybe that's why Toshi's vestiges is flame-y.

2- Shoto is born with a mess of white and golden hair, like a little candle flame. One blue eye and one grey, and Enji would never suspect his wife cheated on him... Surely this kid will just have a mild fire that hopefully won't be too much for an icy constitution. This is Rei's fourth child. It seems all attempts have failed. Enji withdraws to work. Touya's half mad that his little brothers were too useless to get their father's attention back where he was, half glad that they've all be thrown aside.

And then Shoto turns four, and he doesn't just hold a warm flame in one hand, but a sharp icicle in the other. His blue eye seems to glow when he's alight, and there's clear power in the quirk. After a few days of trying, Enji actually comes out of the office to see what his youngest is trying to show him, and is almost afraid to believe what he sees. He doesn't want to wake up from the dream he had all but abandoned, and he's cautious, careful with training... at first.

3- Shoto, who's already bonded with his siblings, does not like to be pulled away from them now that he's not useless anymore, and he will say so loudly and at great length. It shames Enji... At first. Rei does her best but has long since realized who her son's father is. That there was any fire at all baffled her, but she can't reach back out and ask All Might. She can't even stand to see the heroes face on the news, or on the toys Shoto asks for. Her children assume her hatred grew with Enji's actions about his own. The pressure builds. Touya almost kills himself and Shoto in training one day when Enji is at work, and Rei is injured trying to stop them. At the hospital, she has a breakdown about how she hesitated, how she thought about if the house burned down there'd be nothing left of her children, no evidence of her own or of Enji's wrongdoings. Touya and Shoto return from the hospital. Rei does not. A nurse looks at Shoto's blood type, and then Touya's, and says nothing.

4- Training slows again, at first. Until Touya leaves, eighteen and burning up, and takes Natsuo with him. (Natsuo insisted. He already finished middle school, who cared more than that. Fuyumi can take care of Shoto, but none of them should be left alone, like Mom) Then Shoto continues training, refusing to use his fire. Fuyumi, her mother's secret keeper, who only knows because Rei wasn't seeing her when she spoke, burns to tell her brother the truth. But she can't. She waits, and when Shoto gets into UA and the news breaks that All Might will be teaching there, she nearly collapses.

5- so does Toshinori ever figure out that beautiful woman was in fact Endeavor's wife- yeah actually he did, Rei told him the morning after that she was married and apologized profusely then vanished, and he saw her a few years later on his arm at an event. He has said nothing but assumes this is the reason Enji hates him. He doesn't realize until the SF that Enji believes Shoto to be his son, even with the blond hair, and wonders if that's because of the fire but then realizes that Enji truly knows nothing. So, after the SF, Toshi decides the first person who deserves to know the truth is Shoto and pulls him aside, telling him that once, about sixteen or seventeen years ago, he knew a woman who turned it to be married- Shoto interrupts and asks if that's Izuku's mother, and if Izuku told All Might that he was on to him. Toshi, confused, says no- it's another student. He explains more. Shoto is in shock. He leaves school in the middle of the day and goes to the hospital to see his mother for the first time in years. The only thing he can ask is why she didn't tell him. He doesn't leave until visiting hours are over, the hospital staff called Fuyumi to come pull him from his mother's arms because they can't.

#well that's not a good time for Shoto!#but hm. candle light hair shoto. it's a not a bad vibe....#pocket talks to people #starredmoth #ask game #candlelight shoto #candlelight!shoto

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ereardon · 1 year

Text

My Girl [Chapter 9][Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC]

Summary: Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife?

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Lawyer Natalie West]

WC: 2.4K

Warning: Age gap, cursing, fighting, light smut, angst, mention of death

Series masterlist here

Please fill out this form here to join my tag list

You had tossed and turned all night, debating whether or not to get up and leave.

In the end, you fell asleep on the edge of the bed, Jake snoring softly next to you, blissfully unaware.

How could you blame him? He was sleeping next to a warm body in the room he had shared with his wife for years. How could you fault his subconscious?

But you can’t say it didn’t break your heart to feel his warm hands on your bare skin and her name on his lips as he brushed his mouth against your shoulder. How the ghosts of his touch were still hot across your skin, his essence still inside of you, your leg wrapped around his.

It broke your heart to know that twelve hours before you had told him you loved him for the first time.

Perhaps worse, knowing that he had been the one to say it first left you with more questions than answers.

When you woke, the bed was empty. His absence gave you time to clear your mind, take a shower, rest your forehead against the cool marble counter of the bathroom and take in a deep breath before emerging into the kitchen where Ellie sat at the kitchen island on a bar stool, eating a bowl of fruit and yogurt.

Both she and Jake looked up when you entered, their faces lighting up, and a pit grew in your stomach. For the first time, you realized just how much energy it took to be a parent, to shield your child from pain when all you wanted to do was crumble. How difficult it was to keep a smile plastered to your face when inside you felt like a melted ice cream cone.

“Good morning,” Jake said softly, crossing the kitchen and to your shock, placing a kiss on your lips quickly. It was so brief it was almost a whisper, but you saw Ellie’s eyes on the two of you the entire time.

It was a line, and Jake was crashing past it.

“Sleep OK?” he asked, moving to the coffee machine and pouring you a mug before setting it down on the island in the place next to Ellie. You slid onto the barstool to her right and wrapped your shaky fingers around the mug, nodding as Jake poured cream on top of your coffee until it was a milk chocolate color.

“Yup,” you said softly. Next to you, Ellie swirled her spoon around her bowl. “I should probably head home soon.”

“Really?” Jake frowned, leaning against the counter, one foot crossed in front of the other. He was still wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a soft henley top, his hair perfectly ruffled. He looked more handsome than ever, and it made your heart pang with longing knowing that you weren't sure how long you'd have with him. The events of the previous night had you doubting your future with Jake. “I thought maybe we could go to a movie.”

You took another sip of your coffee before standing, dumping the rest in the sink and running the faucet to rinse it out. “I have a lot of work to catch up on from taking a half day on Friday,” you said. “Thanks for the coffee.”

It was almost impossible to look at Ellie without tearing up. Something about her ethereal innocence made tears start to well behind your eyes.

“Bye sweetie,” you said, reaching out and smoothing down her hair and she grinned.

“Bye Natalie!”

You headed down the hallway toward the foyer, grabbing your purse from the entryway table, digging your keys out of the side pocket. In the kitchen, you could hear Jake’s muffled voice, followed by his footsteps as he quickly jogged down the hall. “Nat?” he said softly, one hand coming out to rest on your upper arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you choked out but you knew it sounded like a lie the moment the words spilled from your lips. “I’ll talk to you later?”

You turned to open the door and Jake slid in front of you, worry creasing his handsome face.

He reached out to gather you in his arms and you visibly flinched. Jake’s face fell.

“Baby,” he murmured and you gave him a tight smile, reaching out to grab the door handle, pulling it open forcefully.

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll call you.”

And then you disappeared out the door, leaving him in stunned silence in your wake.

***

Two days passed with you dodging Jake’s evening calls, sending follow up texts to let him know that you were working late and didn’t have time to chat. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. You were working, but from the comfort of your couch, laptop warm on the TV tray you had spread across your lap.

On day three, Jake left a voicemail when you didn’t immediately answer the phone. Your hands shook as you lifted your phone to listen.

Hey baby. I know something is going on. I thought we were on the same page the other night, but I must have done something wrong. Whatever it is, we can work through it. I meant it when I said I love you. That hasn’t changed. Call me when you’re ready. I love you, Natalie. Talk to you soon.

His message was so genuine it made you sob, curled in a ball on the couch. You had already started mourning him in your head, even though you loved him.

You weren't ready to lose him. But you were afraid you already had.

***

“She obviously regrets saying she loved me,” Jake said, lifting the paper coffee cup to his mouth.

Rooster sat across from him at the cafeteria table, picking at a scone on top of a waxy brown paper bag. He shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I saw the way she was looking at you.”

“It’s been four days,” he replied. “She hasn’t answered a single call, just texts me back after I call her with an excuse about why she didn't pick up.”

“Have you tried to see her?”

“No, she’s avoiding me.”

“Maybe she’s just busy,” Rooster said, crinkling the corner of his pastry bag. “Nix and I can babysit tonight if you want to go over and talk to her.”

“Really?” Jake sighed. “That would be awesome, thank you.”

Bradley jiggled his leg under the table. “She seems like a nice girl,” he said after a moment. “But are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?” Jake looked up with hard eyes.

Rooster simply shook his head. “I’m just thinking, if you saying I love you is enough to make her run, is she really the kind of girl you want helping to raise Ellie?”

Jake stood up, snatching his empty coffee cup into his hands. “She’s absolutely the person I want raising Ellie beside me. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I know what I’m thinking. I love her. I’m going to do whatever I can to keep her.”

***

You had ordered enough Chinese food to feed an entire elementary school class. So when the doorbell rang, you swung the door open without bothering to look through the peephole, already counting out a cash tip by the time your eyes lifted and you saw Jake staring back at you.

“Hey honey,” he said sweetly and you smiled automatically despite yourself.

“Jake. Hi.” You were awkward.

He shifted his weight, still standing on the other side of the door frame. “Sorry to just show up, but I was hoping we could talk.”

“Um,” you looked at your phone. The food was coming any minute. You couldn’t keep brushing him off. “Sure, come in.”

Jake’s fingers grazed your sweater-covered arm as he slipped past you into the hallway and you shut the door, wandering back to the couch that you had just vacated, clearing room for Jake on the opposite end.

“What’s up?” you asked innocently.

Jake gave you a sad smile. “Honey, we both know you’ve been avoiding me since the weekend.”

You couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t true.

He sighed. “I just want to know what I did so I can fix it,” he said quietly. Jake leaned forward, taking your hands into his large, warm ones. “Nat, sweetheart. What did I do?”

His green eyes were like two daggers staring into your soul. You had spent four days weighing your options of how to play the situation out.

But in the end, it was easier to tell the truth. “You called me Lizzie,” you whispered and you watched as Jake’s jaw dropped. “The night I stayed at your house. While we were sleeping, you rolled over and called me Lizzie.”

Jake was stunned. He pressed his hands against his face, dragging them down over his forehead and eyes and cheeks before looking back up and shaking his head. “Fuck, Nat. I’m sorry. Honey, I am so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You could feel the prick of tears in the back of your eyes, that soreness building in your throat as you tried to choke them down. “Because I feel like I don’t have the right to be upset about it.”

“You absolutely have the right to be upset about it,” he said instantly. “Natalie, I’m so sorry, but you have to know that I wasn’t awake when that happened. I would never consciously do that to you.”

You shook your head. “No, I know that. Of course I know that. But it doesn’t negate the fact that maybe you’re not ready to move on.”

“That’s not true.” His voice was thin, barely a whisper.

“Jake,” you said and your voice cracked on his name. “I don’t know how to do this. Date a widower. At first I thought Ellie was the big hurdle in our relationship but she really isn’t. Ellie is amazing and sweet and even though I was never a kid person before I met her, I really think I could be a part of her life if you let me.” You had to choke back a sob, and in front of you Jake’s eyes were slowly turning glassy. “It took me a minute to realize that our bigger issue is the fact that I’m not sure you’re really ready to be in a relationship.”

“But I am,” he said and you heard the pain laced through his words, the slow and deliberate way that he replied. Like he was trying not to dissolve into tears. “Nat, sweetheart, trust me when I say that I want to be with you.”

“Do you know what it’s like comparing yourself to someone every step of the way?” you asked softly. “I’m competing with a ghost, Jake. A perfect ghost. Lizzie was the love of your life and Ellie’s mom. I can never fill those shoes, even if I wanted to.”

Jake lurched forward, pulling you onto his lap, your arms automatically winding themselves around his neck. He brushed a chunk of hair from your face where it had fallen out of your low bun, and then let his thumb linger over your lips before moving down your jaw. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to try. Lizzie’s gone. I loved her, and a part of me is always going to love her. She was my wife. She is Ellie’s mom. But you can’t spend your entire life in mourning. She loved us so much, and she would have wanted us to be happy. Honey, you make me happy. I’m not looking for someone to replace Lizzie in our lives. I’m not looking for someone to swoop in and be my wife or be Ellie’s mom. I fell in love with you for who you are. I brought you into our lives because I wanted you. Not because I’m looking for a replacement for something that I’ve lost. So don’t let yourself think that you’re competing with a ghost. We’re not holding you to any standards or making comparisons. You’re perfect the way you are, sweetheart. I love you for exactly who you are.”

Jake’s voice cracked at the end, and you leaned forward, pressing your chest against his, feeling his arms wind around you and tug you in tighter as you sat straddled on his lap. Jake’s fingers ran gently over your back, caressing you lovingly, and you felt tears softly soak the shoulder of his shirt where you laid your head.

“Honey,” he whispered, fingers still tracing up and down the length of your spine. “Come back to me. Please. I can’t lose you.”

You pulled back, placing one hand on each side of his face. “You’re not going to lose me. If it’s me that you want, then I’m right here.”

***

You spent the night at Jake’s on Friday after going to see a movie with him and Ellie.

Ellie had held your hand as you walked down the street to the theater. Later, when Jake put her to bed she requested that the two of you read her a bedtime story so the three of you had huddled onto her little pink bed and read a book together.

Jake had kissed her forehead and you tiptoed out of her room, shutting the door softly.

In the kitchen, Jake poured two glasses of wine and leaned over the granite island, taking one of your hands into his. “Are you OK?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked. “Please?”

You had simply let Jake take your hand, lead you to the bedroom, help you strip off your clothes and settle into the fluffy bed. He held you in his arms, whispering praise into your ear as his fingers slid down your body, landing between your legs. Within minutes, Jake’s thumb circling your clit, index and middle finger thrusting inside of you, you were cumming on his hand, moaning softly into the pillow as Jake murmured, “That’s my girl. Such a sweet girl, cumming on my fingers like that. Such a perfect honey, I love to hear you moaning for me. You're so perfect, baby.”

Afterward, Jake pulled you in close, your back pressed flush against his chest, one large hand spread over your stomach as his chin hooked on your shoulder. His lips brushed your temple and as you drifted off to sleep you felt Jake squeeze you in tighter, his husky voice delicate in your ear.

“I love you, Natalie. So damn much. Sometimes I can’t believe that you’re mine. I love you, honey. Now go to sleep.”

His words made warmth spread through your chest, but there was still a nagging feeling deep in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere in the dark recesses of your gut was a voice telling you not to get too comfortable.

That Jake, for all of his handsomeness and intelligence and maturity, still didn’t realize what he was signing up for. What he was asking of you.

You were still worried that everything the two of you had carefully constructed sat on a ledge, just waiting to shatter.

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