#blue and yellow are wives | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arlana-likes-to-write · 3 months

Text

Domestic Life

Summary: Glimpses of your relationship with your wives.

Warning: pregnancy and pregnancy symptoms, mission injuries, small amount of angst, fluff

Word count: 7.6k

Note: All italicized parts are flash backs

You were up when the door opened and the sound of little feet entered your room, but you pretended to be asleep. “Be quiet,” Evan whispered. We don’t want to wake mommy.” You wouldn’t classify it as a whisper, but it was quieter than your daughter, Olivia.

“Then help me up,” you heard them struggle to climb onto the bed and felt the blankets move as Olivia used it for leverage; you grabbed it so she wouldn’t fall. Opening your eyes slightly, you watched your daughter, who was the spitting image of your wife, crawl over to you. You moved quickly when she was close enough and trapped her underneath the blanket. Her squeals and laughter echoed in your quiet room. It made the loneliness disappear. “Livie, help me. Help!” It was easier for your son to climb onto the bed and hang off your back. You let go of Olivia, and she was able to free herself.

“Alright, uncle, uncle,” you laughed and lay down on your back, your kids on both sides.

“Are they coming home today?” Olivia asked. You nodded and ran your hand through her long brunette hair. It was rare for your wives to go on missions. They were only used to provide advice, but sometimes, they were needed. It never got easier, and it still filled you with anxiety. You knew it wasn’t easy for them to be away from you and the twins.

It was a slow day. Well, every day was slow, but today was unbearable. It had to be the heat. Even if people had car problems, why would you leave the air conditioner? You were surviving on lukewarm water and a hand-held fan. The guys in the back weren’t doing much better, surrounded by cars and tools.

The bell ring startled you since you weren’t expecting anyone to come through the front door. A girl around the same age as you walked over to the desk. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and her blue eyes were striking. You noticed a few things. Right away, you knew she was not from here. You knew everyone from your small town and the surrounding area. Second, she was wealthy; her wristwatch was more than you made in a year. “Well, hello, stranger,” you said with a smile. “I don’t think I know you.” She looked down at the outfit she was wearing.

“Do I look that out of place?” You shook your head.

“I just know everyone in this small town,” your final observation was that she was attractive. “What can I do for you?” The stranger leaned against the desk.

“I’m having some car trouble, and you guys are the only mechanic,” which was true. It was good for business.

“Pull your car up to the garage, and I’ll have the guys take a look at it,” she thanked you and ran out the front door, almost tripping on the welcome mat. You chuckled and walked to the back. To your surprise, the guys were already pulling in a black BMW, and a blonde stood beside it. She offered you a small smile and turned her attention to the brunette when she approached her. It was unfair how attractive they both were. The dark-haired stranger was wearing a white linen top with faded blue jeans. Her pair of high-top Converse shoes were well-worn. Now, the Blonde wore a yellow plaid skirt and a long-sleeved shirt tucked in. You were shocked that she was wearing a long sleeve in this heat.

While the guys were looking at the car, you offered them water and a place to sit in the area with an AC. You were practicing good customer service not because you found them attractive, not at all.

Their names were Kate and Yelena, and they were passing through on a business trip. The guys said that their transmission needed to be replaced. They blamed the heat, but fixing it would take a few days. Maybe it was a little selfish that you were happy the car would take a few days to fix. You enjoyed your time with the duo every time they came in to check on the vehicle.

You liked Yelena’s dry humor, accent, and the small smile she would give Kate. Kate was cute when she stumbled over her words and was easy to fluster and blush. You knew they would be on their way once their car was fixed. Their time here was limited.

Months passed, and you still thought about the Blonde and brunette. What were they doing? Was Kate annoying Yelena with her music choice? Did they make it safely to their destination? They consumed your thoughts even in such a short time they were in your life.

On a busy day at the shop, two familiar faces walked up to the desk with your go-to coffee order and smiles that still made your heart flutter. Five months after they left, they returned to ask you on a date. It was the fastest, yes, you said.

“Mommy, I’m hungry!” Olivia wined. She had Yelena’s appetite; she was always hungry.

“Well, we can’t have that,” you smiled. I’ll start breakfast if you two take the pups out,” the twins agreed and were quick to climb out of bed. You were slower getting up, stretching when your feet touched the ground, and brushing your teeth. By the time you walked into the kitchen, Fanny and Lucky were chasing the twins outside, and their dog bowls were filled with food.

Now, it was your turn to uphold your end of the bargain. You decided on scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast with jam. A simple breakfast that you’ve prepared so many times.

Long distance took a lot of work. It consisted of video chat dates, constant text messages, phone calls, and longing to be with your partners. It was a unique balancing act, especially since you were dating two superheroes.

It lasted two months. One day after work, you stumbled into your apartment expecting to find it empty. However, Yelena was there raiding your kitchen. “You have no food,” you jumped at the sudden voice. “Do you not eat”? You stared at the Blonde, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. “I expected you to be happier to see me,” she smirked.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, quickly dropping your bag and closing the distance. You hugged her tight, finally feeling at peace after a long day.

“I missed you,” she said simply and kissed your forehead. “And I want to talk to you about something,” a rush of anxiety passed through you. “All good, I promise. Go clean up while I figure out what to make for dinner.” As you headed to your room, you heard her mumble, “She is as bad as Kate.” That made you smile.

Yelena was able to make a pasta dish. It was better than the TV dinner you were going to heat up in the microwave. Over dinner and a bottle of wine, Yelena asked you to move to New York City. There was nothing holding you here. Your mother passed away, and your father left you when you were five years old. So you agreed. You put your two weeks in and packed up your apartment to move to the big city.

You met their dogs, which you’ve received so many videos and pictures of, started your new job while going back to school, and fell into a routine consisting of you waking up first, making breakfast and coffee, and starting on any schoolwork that needed to be done. Yelena and Kate would do their superhero duties while you went to work. You tried to routine who cooked dinner, but Yelena was the better of you three.

It was a big adjustment for you, but you enjoyed it.

While you were loading the dishwasher, the doorbell rang. You racked your brain on who it could be and dried your hands to turn on the tablet connected to the security system. Your wives were a Black Widow and the former CEO of Bishop Security, your home had the best security system. Smiling, you saw who was at your front door. “Olivia, can you get the door for me?” You called and continued to load the dishwasher. Your daughter huffed but stood up from her spot on the couch. You counted down until she figured out who was at the door.

“Auntie Nat! Auntie Ria!” she yelled, and you heard the grunt of your sister-in-law as Olivia threw herself at her.

“What is your mom feeding you?” Natasha questioned. “I feel like you are getting stronger every day.” The door closed behind them.

“Mama is teaching me how to fight!” Olivia told her aunts. You dried your hands and joined the group in the entryway.

“Against my wishes,” you smiled. Evan was already dragging his cousin, Nicholas, outside, and you had enough time to ruffle his hair as he passed. “Not that I’m thrilled to see you guys. I wasn’t expecting company,” you said, giving the couple a quick hug while Olivia dragged their youngest, Lauren, outside to join the others.

“We thought we’d surprise you,” Maria said.

“Are you hungry? I just made breakfast.” Natasha shook her head.

“We ate before we came over,” the three of you walked out to the back porch to watch the kids and dogs run around. The sight made you smile. “They are coming home today, right?” You nodded.

“I’m not sure when,” you looked at the redhead. “I got a text from Kate right before you guys came over. Things are taking longer than expected,” you rested your hands on your stomach and played with the wedding ring.

“It’s going to be okay,” Maria tried to reassure you. “They will always come home to you and the kids.” You knew that. They promised before every mission that they would come home. Natasha placed her hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.

You were jealous of Natasha and Maria. They were fully retired from active missions and spent their free time training newer agents. They would be fine and come home.

One of the hardest things about living with Kate and Yelena was seeing the effects of their job firsthand. It was easier to hide it from you when you lived miles away. No matter how late they got home, you checked over them and helped clean every cut and bruise. In the beginning, they found you on it, but they learned it was for your benefit. You needed to make sure they were okay.

You pushed Fanny and Lucky as you walked into the apartment. The dogs could smell the treats in your bag. “Guys,” you laughed. “Back up,” you managed to set your bag on the chair. They sat without a command, their tails wagging so fast they could generate wind to power a city. You pulled the treats out and handed them to them. They took off to their beds to enjoy it. Not even your phone ringing disturbed them. It was Natasha.

You remembered how terrified you were when you were introduced to the Black Widow. She was intimating and was looking after Kate and Yelena’s heart. If she needed you, Natasha would text you. She never called. Your heart leaped into your throat. Kate and Yelena were on a mission, not Avenger duties. Kate was helping the Black Widow free Widows who were still under the Red Room’s control. “Hello,” you answered.

“Don’t panic,” it sent you deeper into a panic as you sat on the couch.

“Natasha, that did not help,” the redhead laughed. “Are they okay?” She sighed.

“Bruce is looking them over now. Kate got them to the compound before she passed out,” Natasha explained. “They both haven’t woken up yet.”

“Nat, I-”

“I know,” she cut you off. “Maria is already on her way to get you and the dogs. Pack a bag, and I’ll see you soon, okay?” She nodded.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon,” you hung up and stayed frozen on the couch. You knew you needed to get stuff together—clothes for you, your schoolwork, and food for the dogs. But you couldn’t move. You reran the last conversation you had with them in your head. It was quick, maybe five minutes, because you had to walk the dogs before going to work. You didn’t tell them you loved them, and maybe it was too late.

Luckily, Natasha wasn’t in the mood to converse as she led you down to Med Bay. Your mind was spiraling, and you were barely holding it together. “They look a lot worse than they are,” she warned you before opening the door. Honestly, you felt nothing. It was like a calmness washed over you. They lay motionless in the beds next to each other with wires connected to machines. You locked all your emotions into a small box and tucked it away. Because if you felt anything, you would break. Maybe Natasha was talking. Perhaps she explained the list of injuries that Bruce and Helen had to fix. It was all white noise to you. “Come find me if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” the door closed behind you. This world wasn’t normal to you. That the girls you loved with all your being put their lives on the line for strangers. It made no sense to you. You slumped in the chair between their beds and grabbed their hands. You hated how cold their hands felt; they usually would be so warm against yours. “Hi, my loves,” you whispered. “I’m here. I’m right here and not going anywhere.”

Natasha made sure you spent only some of your time by their side. You had to take breaks, and you were not in the position to say no to the Black Widow. So you took care of yourself because you knew Kate and Yelena would give you an earful if they found out otherwise. It was rare you were at the compound, so it was nice to get closer with the other members of the team. They helped keep your sanity as each day passed, and their condition was the same.

You were outside with Wanda, sitting on a picnic blanket and reading a book. Sometimes Lucky or Fanny would bring a ball over, and the witch would use her powers to throw it. “I’m jealous,” you told her. “My hand would be covered with drool.” Wanda laughed.

“How are you?” She asked. “Has Helen figured out why they haven’t woken up yet?” You shoved your bookmark into the spine of your book and closed it.

“I’m okay?” you questioned. There was this numbness that surrounded you. It felt unreal that they were hurt. With all the stories they told you, they seemed untouchable. “I just miss their hugs.” You missed a lot of things—their touch, the sound of their voice. Wanda smiled.

“They’ll come back to you,” she said. “It’s gross how much they talk about you.” You felt your body heat up but rolled your eyes. They always promised they would come home.

For the past few days, you slept in their bed. Now, it seemed lonely and cold. You walked down to the med bay and sat down in the chair. “I hope you know I will wait forever,” you whispered. “And I love your teammates, but it’s kind of lonely with you two. The world seems a little too quiet.” You felt a few tears finally fall down your cheeks. “Just come back to me whenever you are ready.”

Delete Created with Sketch.

“Do you think we should wake her?” The voice was muffled.

“That can not be comfortable,” that was Kate. So, the first voice must have been Yelena’s. “We know she can be moody when she sleeps in a weird position.”

“Not moody,” you grumbled, but Kate was right. Your neck was already starting to hurt. You heard laughter.

“Are you sure about that, Princess?” Slowly, your eyes opened, and you blinked a few times to see your girlfriends awake. They were awake—alive and awake. Kate chuckled. “She has that same dazed look on her face like when we asked if she wanted to be our girlfriend,” you thought they were messing you up at first.

“You’re up,” you said. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah-” you didn’t give Yelena time to finish before flinging yourself at the Blonde. She grunted at the impact. The dam broke. The feeling of her heart beating against yours caused a sob to escape. “Sh, dorogoy, sh,” Yelena cooed and kissed your temple. “I know, I know.”

“Thought I’d lost you both,” you heard Kate climb out of bed and sit beside Yelena. Her hand rubbed circles on your back to help calm you down.

“We’ll always come back to you, sweetheart,” Kate said. “You are stuck with us. Forever.”

Forever. That sounded nice.

It was Maria’s and your job to make lunch while Natasha distracted the little ones outside. You decided on something simple: a ham and cheese sandwich, slices of watermelon, and chips. It was also a meal that could make you nauseous. “Yelena told Natasha you were getting another dog,” Maria said while cutting into the watermelon. You groaned and threw your head back.

“I told her she could get another dog when she fully retires. I am not taking care of three dogs and three to two kids,” you wondered if Maria caught your mistake. She laughed.

“Have they said when they’ll be done?” You shook your head. They loved the lifestyle. You wondered if they loved it more than the family they had back here. You caused a lot of fights. But you couldn’t dwell on it or answer Maria’s question; you heard the distinct sound of Olivia’s squeals and hurried footsteps.

“Mommy! Mommy!” She ran into the back of your legs. “Auntie Nat said she would eat me,” you laughed.

“Oh yeah,” you said, continuing to make sandwiches. “Why is she going to eat you?”

“Because she’s hungry!” She answered like it was the most obvious thing. “And she said you were taking too long to make lunch,” that bitch! Maria laughed at her wife’s antics.

“Go tell Auntie Nat that if she eats you, she won’t get any lunch.”

“Okay! I love you!” She cheered and ran back outside. You shook your head, smiling fondly. You loved your little family and couldn’t wait to add to it.

You always wanted to be a mother and experience the feeling of bringing life into the world. Maybe it was your good relationship with your mother before she passed. However, you were scared to bring it up to your girlfriends. Their relationship with their own mother was complicated; one was in jail because she was working with the tracksuit Mafia, while the other was responsible for controlling her and other Black Widows. So, it was a little complicated.

You wanted to bring it up to them, and if they hated the idea, you would make peace with that. Yelena put the finishing touches on dinner while you poured some wine and set the table. You were going to ask them tonight. Someone brought in a baby at work today, and your mind began to create fantasies of Yelena and Kate with their children. You knew they would get mothers with how they interacted with the Barton kids, and Morgan made your ovaries explode.

“Princess,” you felt Kate’s arms around your waist. “Where did you go just now? I’ve been calling your name.”

“Sorry,” you smiled. “Long day at work.” She kissed your neck.

“You know you could always quit,” you rolled your eyes and pulled away from her embrace. You grabbed two glasses. “You’d make a sexy housewife,” you chuckled.

“You’d have to make me your wife first, Bishop,” you sent a wink over your shoulder and walked over to the table. If they knew you were distracted, they didn’t bring it up. They talked about their day and filled in the empty silence. You felt Yelena’s hand on your thigh, feeling the cool metal of her rings on your skin.

“Alright,” the Blonde said. “What’s going on?” You sighed and swirled the wine around in your glass.

“Do you guys want kids?” Yelena’s hands tightened her hold on your thigh. “If you don’t, that’s fine. I will completely respect that, but I’ve been wondering and thinking and-”

“Princess,” Kate cut you off. “Breathe,” you nodded, and you felt Yelena’s thumb dig into your skin to help you calm down. “Do you want kids?” She asked when you calmed down slightly.

“I want whatever you want,” Yelena said, shaking her head.

“That’s not what she asked, detka,” you sighed and leaned back. You placed your hand on top of Yelena’s.

“I love the life we have right now,” you admitted. “But I’ve always seen myself as a mom,” you glanced at the dogs who were eating their own dinner. “To children who walk on two legs instead of four,” your joke got a laugh out of two girlfriends. The two heroes looked at each other; they could always talk to each other without using words.

“We’ve been wondering when you’d bring it up,” Kate smiled.

“You are not very subtle when you watch us with the Barton kids,” your face flushed at Yelena’s teasing tone.

“Answer mine,” you whispered. “Do you guys want kids?” Kate took your free hand and played with the ring on your finger.

“I think we are ready to expand our family,” you looked at the archer and then at the Blonde, who nodded.

“I need to hear you say it, dorogoy.” Your Russian wasn’t good, but you loved the smile on Yelena’s face when you tried to speak it.

“I would love to start a family with you two.”

You decided to carry since it was impossible for Yelena, and Kate was actively training and going on missions. For the first try, you agreed to use Kate’s eggs and a sperm donor who matched Yelena’s features. The hardest part was keeping it from your friends and family. You went to a private doctor in the city. Each day during the process, you became more and more grateful for Yelena and Kate.

In the first round, you had your hopes up, and it broke your heart when you got your period. The second round hurt, but it didn’t sting as much as the first one. Yelena and Kate were tempted to call it off by the third attempt. They sat the emotional toll it was taking on you. You blamed yourself. You were the problem on why you couldn’t get pregnant. You asked for one more try.

It was Wednesday. Yelena met with Sonya, and Kate had lunch with Fanny and Greer. You were walking home after your manager told you to take a half day. All day, you felt off, like a nagging voice was in the back of your head. It made you second-guess everything. Luckily, your boss knew what you were going and allowed you to go home. Before you entered the apartment, you stopped at the corner store and bought two pregnancy tests.

The dogs greeted you when you came home and sniffed the brown bag to see if you had anything for them. You apologized and promised to get them something next time you went out. Walking into the bathroom, your stomach twisted with anxiety and fear. Should you have waited for Yelena and Kate? What if it was positive? Or worse, negative. Your heart couldn’t take it. Still, that uneasy feeling crawled in your stomach. So you opened both boxes and read the instructions. It was easy: pee on a stick, place on a flat surface, and wait 5 minutes. Easy. When you were done, you placed them on the counter and washed your hands.

It was a mistake to take them. You were being silly and dramatic. As you were about to throw away the tests, you heard the front door open, followed by the dogs greeting your partners. “Princess?” Kate called out. “Are you home?” You thought about staying quiet, but you left your bag downstairs.

“Bathroom,” you said. “Upstairs.” You closed the door and leaned on the wooden door, keeping the results locked away. You heard the footsteps of both Yelena and Kate as they walked up the stairs and into the bedroom. “Hi,” you forced a smile, but they looked at you with concern.

“What’s wrong, data?” Yelena asked. You sighed.

“I got sent home because I wasn’t feeling right, and I stopped at the corner store to get two pregnancy tests,” their eyes widened.

“What did the test say?” Kate asked. You shrugged.

“I panicked and left them on the counter,” Yelena chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me,” you frowned. The Blonde took your hand and led you to the bed.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Yelena reassured you with a kiss. “Tell us why you panicked.” Kate knelt in front of you.

“If it’s negative, I don’t think my heart can take it,” you sighed. “I want this to work so bad, but what if it’s me? Maybe I’m the problem,” the archer shook her head.

“This is not your fault,” she said. “We knew this was going to be difficult.” Yes, you knew it would be challenging, but it felt impossible.

“I just want to give you both a family,” you felt tears form in your eyes. Yelena pushed your head down on her shoulder and kissed your head.

“We are a family, baby. You, me, and Kate.”

“And Fanny and Lucky. We can’t forget our favorite troublemakers,” Kate teased. You smiled and whipped away your tears. “Do you want me to go check the tests?” You hesitated but nodded. You were too anxious to move, but also you felt very comfortable against Yelena. Kate stood up and kissed you softly. “No matter what it says. We love you,”

“Love you too,” you whispered and watched Kate enter the bathroom. Yelena played with the hair at the base of your neck and hummed a simple tone. It was soothing, and you slumped into her. For the first time all day, you felt that nagging presence disappear. It was impossible for you to notice it with Yelena so close to you.

“Do you think she got lost?” Yelena mumbled in your ear. You giggled and slapped her softly on her leg. Finally, Kate came out with the tests in her hand.

“Positive,” she said. You stood up quickly, looking at the tests in her hand. She was right. Both read positive.

“I’m pregnant,” you said in disbelief. Suddenly, you were engulfed in the arms of your girlfriends. You felt their tears on your skin. You were going to be a mom. Finally.

“Thank you for stopping by,” you said and hugged Natasha. “I appreciate the distraction.” You separated from the redhead and watched Maria strap in their very sleepy kids in the car. Carefully, she closed the car door and joined you and her wife on the front steps.

“So, when are you going to tell them?” You titled your head at Maria’s question.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you said. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You do realize you are trying to lie to two former Avengers,” you rolled your eyes. You managed to keep your first pregnancy a secret from them. You wondered if they were still a little bitter about that.

“When they get home,” you gave in. “I took the test two nights ago,” Maria was the first to pull you into a hug, carefully, and whispered congratulations into your ear. Once Maria was one, Natasha took her wife’s spot.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For loving her and giving her a family.” You felt overcome with emotions, so all you could do was nod. You watched the couple get into their car and leave. Walking back into your house, Evan and Olivia were asleep on the couch. You loved it when they came over because they made nap time easier. Carefully, you picked up Olivia and Evan and carried them into their room.

What Natasha said to you wasn’t the first time she’s said it. The first time was when you told her about your pregnancy. The second was when she met her niece and nephew. Then at the wedding and now again. Still, it made you emotional.

You felt honored to love Yelena and be loved by her. It was your greatest accomplishment.

Yelena and Kate were more nervous than you as you lay on the medical bed waiting for the doctor. “I love you both,” you started. But you need to calm down, or you will go wait in the waiting room.”

“Sorry, Princess,” Kate kissed your forehead. Yelena’s leg was still shaking as the doctor came in to perform the ultrasound. It was a big day, so you understood where the anxiety was coming from. It would be your first time seeing your son and/or daughter.

“Alright, are you ready?” The doctor asked. With your consent, she lifted your shirt and put the cold gel on your skin. You shivered, which caused Kate to laugh at you. You glared at the archer. “Looks like we have a healthy baby,” she showed you and your girlfriends that was developing.

“It looks like a little alien,” Kate commented. Yelena scuffed, hitting the archer on the arm.

“Do not call your son or daughter an alien,” you smiled at the Black Widow.

“That leads me to the next question: do you want to know the genders, or will it be a surprise?” You planned on having a gender reveal party planned by Laura once you told her. Wait. Pause. Genders?

“Genders?” You questioned. The doctor smiled.

“Congratulations,” she smiled. “You are pregnant with twins.” Twins. Twins?! You weren’t having one baby but two. The doctor explained that twins were common throughout the IVF process and that you looked at your partners to see their reactions. The news shocked them, but you could see the excitement and relief on their faces. You were healthy. The babies were healthy. That was what mattered to them.

Keeping a secret was hard, especially one as big as this. Since Clint was fully retired, you saw the man less than Natasha and Maria. However, the Bartons liked to take trips to the city, which resulted in big family dinners. This time, Natasha and Maria were hosting. You walked up the front steps with a salad in your arms. “Are you excited?” Kate asked.

“Nervous,” you said. You were going to tell all of them today. It wasn’t going to be a big deal. Yelena was going to tell her sister and Maria, Kate had Clint, and you would tell Laura.

“We have to do it as soon as possible,” Yelena rang the doorbell. “Natasha already suspects something.” She was a Black Widow; that was not surprising. Nathaniel opened the door and hugged Kate and Yelena tight. You were in charge of the salad, which was tactical. The youngest Barton liked to show his affection with tight hugs, and your girlfriends were highly protective of you. You ruffled the boy’s hair and walked into the house.

Laura was in the kitchen while Clint, Natasha, and Maria prepared drinks at the bar. “Good luck,” Kate mumbled and kissed your temple. Your girlfriends said hello to Laura before joining the others. You placed the salad in the fridge.

“How can I help?” You asked.

“Can you measure out some flour and grab the baking soda?” Laura smiled. You nodded and got the ingredients she requested. You worked in silence, but your eyes kept glancing at your girlfriends. Kate gave you a thumbs-up.

“So, I was wondering if you have any leftover baby stuff?” You asked as you mixed up the dry ingredients. Laura thought for a moment, held tilted to the side.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “We may have donated a bunch. Is your job doing a donation?” You smiled and shook your head.

“No, I was asking for us,” you shrugged. Laura froze while mixing the wet ingredients with the dry as if her brain was trying to piece together what you said. Before she could say anything, you heard footsteps rushing over to you.

“You’re pregnant?” Natasha questioned. You nodded. It surprised you when the redhead pulled you into her arms and hugged you. “I can’t believe you kept it from me, you bitch.” You laughed at her comment.

“Careful, sestra,” Yelena warned. You rolled your eyes at her protective nature. “She’s got two in there.”

“Twins?!” Laura exclaimed.

“Twins,” you repeated. The day was filled with congratulations, celebrations, and so much love.

Sighing, you stood in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open. You were hungry, but you had no idea what you wanted. The twins wanted the strangest combination of foods. Kate and Yelena were saints through it all - the morning sickness, the odd late-night cravings that required them to leave bed and go to the store. “Oh,” you touched your stomach as you felt a kick. “Well, hello there,” you smiled. “I was wondering when I would start feeling you.” It was the part you were the most excited about feeling your little ones. It made it feel so real. However, seeing some of the videos of hand prints on people’s stomachs did scare you.

“Princess, who are you talking to?” Kate asked, walking downstairs.

“Come here,” you held your hand and closed the fridge. You took Kate’s hand and placed it on your stomach. “Just wait,” you smiled. It took a second, but soon, you felt a kick. Kate’s face lit up in surprise.

“Is that-” You nodded. “That is so weird,” you chuckled, and another kick. “I think they like the sound of your voice.”

“Maybe they like yours,” her eyes went to yours, then to your stomach.

“Hi, little ones,” Kate whispered. I’m your mum.” You smiled and blamed the pregnancy hormones when tears ran down your cheeks. I’m so excited to meet you and teach you how to hold a bow and arrow. Don’t cause your mom too much pain, okay?” You put your arms around her neck and pulled her into a hug.

“You are going to be a great mom,” you said. She hugged you back.

“So are you.”

Delete Created with Sketch.

“Lena,” you called for the Blonde. You wanted to go for a walk, but you needed help putting on your shoes. “Yelena,” you said again. Kate was meeting with America at the Sanctum with Stephen. So it was you, Yelena, and the pups. The Blonde was upstairs preparing the room for the twins. The plan was to stay in the apartment until the twined turned one. Looking for a new home while pregnant and preparing for newborns was tiring. Sighing, you stood up and walked up the stairs—one hand on your belly and the other on the railing. You found Yelena on the floor of the twin’s room. She was midway through building a rocking chair. However, she was flipping through one of the parenting books she bought when the doctor confirmed you were pregnant.

She was lost in her own world, unaware that you were standing in the doorway. You let her sit there, but she stared at the same page for a few minutes. You made your presence known. “Baby,” she finally looked up.

“Dorogoy,” Yelena stood up and rushed over to you, her hands resting on your stomach. “Are you okay? Is it the babies?” You shook your head. You looked at your girlfriend, taking her face gently in your hands. There were dark bags underneath her eyes. How long has she been struggling, and you missed it?

“I’m fine,” you said. “What’s wrong, baby?” Yelena hesitated.

“Nothing,” she lied. You frowned and brought her into your arms for a hug. Her body was tense against yours, but soon she slumped into you.

“Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours,” you softly spoke. Yelena stayed quiet but it was okay. You would hold her as long as she needed, even if your back started to hurt. Finally, she mumbled something you missed. “What?” You questioned. She repeated herself, but still, it was hard for you to hear. “Baby, I can’t help if I can’t hear you,” you pulled away from you.

“What if I’m not good enough to be a mom?” She asked. Your heart broke. “I have done many bad things,” you knew some of those ‘bad’ things. You never saw them as bad. She was forced to be a pawn, and she was trying so hard to remove all the red. “What if I hurt them? I can not -” she shook her head. You felt the twin’s kick. They could sense Yelena’s emotions. You took her hand and placed it on your stomach.

“They are causing quite a commotion in there,” you smiled. “I think they can sense their mama is upset.” Yelena laughed, tears freely running down her cheeks. She kept her hands on your stomach.

“I love them so much already,” she admitted.

“I know you do,” Almost every night, Yelena would rest her head on your stomach and speak Russian to them. It was your favorite part of each day. She made sure to make meals that were safe for you. Whenever you needed a message, Yelena was the first to volunteer. “You take such great care of me and the babies, Lena. You are going to be a great mom,” she opened her mouth to argue, but you shook her head. “You deserve this life. You deserve to have a family and to be happy,” you wiped away her tears. “I know you will protect and love these troublemakers with your entire heart.”

“What if I mess up?”

“Then you mess up, but we will mess up together,” you kissed her softly. “Now, my back hurts. Do you think I can get a message?” Yelena chuckled, a smile finally on her face.

“Your wish is my command, my love.”

Delays were par for the course. At the beginning of the relationship, dates were missed or had to be rescheduled. You spent nights worrying sick because the mission took longer. When you received a text from Yelena that they were going to be home late, you understood, but it broke Olivia and Evan’s hearts. It was why you caved when they asked to stay up late after dinner to watch a movie. They lasted halfway through Frozen 2, and you were quick to follow them to sleep.

You woke up to your kids being moved, and you immediately grabbed them. “Easy, Princess,” it took a moment for your sleep-induced brain to see Yelena holding Olivia. “It’s just us.”

“You’re home,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. Kate smiled, and you couldn’t help but fall more in love with her.

“Go to bed, baby,” Yelena said. “We’ll put the little ones to bed.” You nodded and kissed your kids before heading to your room. You sat at the foot of your bed and waited for them, stretching your neck. Sleeping on the couch always put a strain on your neck. Yelena was the first in the bedroom. Her hair was wet, and she wore one of Kate’s tracksuits. They must have stopped at the compound before heading over here. “I missed you,” she admitted and kissed you softly. Kissing Yelena was your favorite. It was hard for the Black Widow to vocalize her feelings, but the way she kissed you said enough.

“I missed you too,” you smiled. “Are there any injuries?” She shook her head. “Promise?” she twirled around in a circle. You saw nothing, but she looked tired. “Do you want me to braid your hair, or do you want to go to bed?”

“Can you braid it? Kate is not good at it,” you smiled and nodded. She went into the bathroom to grab the supplies you needed. Kate came in while she was there. Before you could ask if she was okay, she kissed you. Kate was always an aggressive kisser when she came home. It took your breath away.

“Hi, baby girl,” she said. You smiled.

“Hi, Katie,” the archer rolled her eyes. The Black Widow came out of the bathroom with a hair brush and a ponytail. You moved to the center of the bed so she could sit before you. Kate kissed Yelena before going into the bathroom herself. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” You asked, sitting up on your knees and beginning to brush her hair. She hummed.

“Tired,” she whispered. “And I missed you and the twins,.” You wanted to say you missed her too ,and the twins were heartbroken when they were delayed. But that wasn’t going to help.

“Your sister and Maria came over,” you told her. “Someone told them we are getting another dog,” you chuckled as Yelena tensed up.

“I do not know who told them that,” she said. “Maybe it was Livie,” but it probably was Olivia. You knew she would join your wife’s agenda no matter what it was. You kissed her cheek and finished the braid.

“Princess,” you looked at Kate, and your eyes looked at the pregnancy test in her hands. “Is this real?” You wanted to say you would never joke about a positive pregnancy test after the hell you went through the first time, but you nodded.

“I took the test two days ago,” you said. Kate’s blue eyes filled with tears. Yelena stood up and took the test from Kate’s hand.

“It worked?” Yelena’s voice cracked. You nodded.

“Much easier than the first time,” your vision began to blur with your own tears. The Blonde moved to hug you, and you felt her tears against your skin.

“We are getting a new four-leg child and one with two,” she said. You pulled away from her.

“Yelena Belova,” you sternly said. “I told you we are not getting a third dog until you fully retire. I am not taking care of three dogs and three kids by myself.”

“Could be twins,” Kate said, laying behind you in bed. She placed her on your stomach underneath your shirt. Goosebumps form on your skin. You loved the feeling of Kate’s hands, warm and calloused.

“If you knocked me up with twins again, I might divorce both of you,” you teased and rested your body on Kate, melting against hers. Yelena crossed her legs and took your hand. She looked lost in thought. You squeezed her hand, and she looked at you.

“This was our last mission,” she told you. “We are missing too much here, and I do not want to fight anymore.” You were proud of how well you kept your excitement masked. Part of you believed that the only thing that was going to stop Yelena and Kate from going on mission was an injury or maybe even their death. But she was right. She deserved it. They both did.

“I guess I can make room for both of you,” your body shook from Kate’s laughter. The Blonde rolled her eyes and laid her head on your stomach. She kissed it and mumbled something in Russian. You glanced at Kate over your shoulder, and she smiled fondly at the Blonde.

“I love you both,” she said.

“Love you too,” you weren’t expecting a response from Yelena as she was fast asleep, a protective hold on your stomach.

Sometime in the future

Soft kisses on your shoulder drew you out of sleep. You tried to ignore it, but your lips traveled up your neck. “I know you are up, Princess,” you felt Kate’s breath against your neck. “We have a busy Saturday morning. Lena is starting breakfast.” You groaned and burrowed your face deeper into the pillow.

“I wouldn’t be so tired if someone wasn’t so needy last night.”

“If I remember correctly, you weren’t complaining,” you heard the smirk in her voice. You rolled your eyes and climbed out of bed, stretching your hands above your head. You felt her eyes gaze over your naked body.

“Can you keep your hands to yourself if we shower together?” It was the fastest you’ve seen her get out of bed.

“I thought I was going to have to call the Coast Guard,” Yelena teased as you entered the kitchen. You kissed her cheek.

“Don’t be jealous,” you pinched her back, and she yelped. “So,” you poured yourself a cup of coffee. “What’s the plan of attack?” You asked. Saturdays were always busy in your house. With five kids, four dogs, and a cat, it seemed everyone needed to be somewhere. Soccer bags needed to be packed, paint brushes to be washed, and pointe shoes needed new ribbons.

It was hectic, and sometimes you felt like you were pulled in a hundred and one directions, but you had your wives by your side to help. “Are you listening?” Yelena smiled.

“Yes,” you lied. She gave you a pointed look, which you ignored, and wrapped your arms around her waist.

“Incoming!” You heard Kate yell, followed by your three oldest running down the stairs. This was normal. Your home was loud, crazy, and chaotic but full of love. You burrowed your face in the crook of Yelena’s neck and kissed the skin you could reach.

“Thank you,” you whispered against her. “Thank you for loving me and giving me a family.”

#yelena belova x reader #kate bishop x reader #yelena belova x you #kate bishop x you #yelena belova x kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x yelena belova #yelena belova x kate bishop #kate bishop x yelena belova x reader #kate bishop #yelena belova

452 notes · View notes

eevees-hobbies · 4 months

Text

Watching Fireworks with Your Hashira Boyfriend

Content Warning: Fluff. Reference to intimacy with Gyomei but nothing major. Also, gender neutral.

Contains: Obana Iguroi, Kyojuro Rengoku, Tengen Uzui, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Gyomei Himejima & Giyu Tomioka

Obanai Iguro

Isn’t this the spot…? You find yourself questioning your conversation with Obanai as you look around for any sign of the Serpeant Hashira. You’re standing on the only small hill that overlooks the Hashira Estates; you both agreed to meet at this exact location to get a better view of the fireworks.

Blue and yellow dual-colored eyes look down at you, amusement hidden by the bandages wrapped around the lower half of his face. “When will you stop falling for this trick?” Obanai’s smooth voice travels from above you, and your head snaps up.

Fuck, when WILL I stop falling for this trick?

“I knew you were there along! But hey…I thought we were watching the fireworks together?”

“This angle is far superior,” he responds cooly, his gaze never leaving you.

You huff and look at the ground. Guess we aren’t sitting next to each other for the show. Your sulking session is interrupted as the ground disappears beneath your feet, and your nose is unexpectedly pressed against his uniform. For an instant, you feel like you're floating until Obanai sits you carefully on the thick branch that originally housed only him. Your brief disappointment in not having his arms wrapped around you quickly dissipates as the first firework launches into the sky, illuminating his face a dazzling yellow.

“You’re right. This is the far superior angle,” you smile and take his hand into yours.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro Rengoku is a pure romantic, so it’s no surprise that he approaches you first about the fireworks show before it even crosses your mind.

“Y/N! You must accompany me on a date to see the fireworks!”

You enthusiastically agreed, but when you offered to bring snacks to share and enjoy while you watched, Kyojuro insisted that you should not worry about planning anything.

You wait patiently at the agreed-upon location, but Kyojuro is nowhere to be found. Ten minutes pass before you see him heaving two large baskets in your direction and a large blanket under his arm. “Sorry, I’m late! Turns out packing a basket with copious amounts of food is its own skill!” He drops both baskets at your feet with a loud thud.

“Kyo! A picnic. I’m flattered, but you could have asked for help.” Kyojuro spreads the blanket out before you both and carefully unloads the baskets' contents. He’s brought all your favorites—sweet, fried, salty—and even has warm drinks in small thermos containers.

“I did not want you to worry about anything, my flame! Please sit.” He pats the space next to him; you lower yourself onto the blanket and lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you,” you whisper as a cool chill makes you shudder. Not missing a beat, Kyojuro whips his Haori from his shoulders and transfers it to your own.

“Kyo, you’re perfect, you know that?”

He blushes but smiles at you nonetheless, “I’ve never thought of myself as that, but it pleases me that you see me that way! Now, what should we eat first and might I be so bold to ask you if I can feed you?”

Tengen Uzui

What’s flashier than fireworks? Only the God of Festivals himself! Tengen is fucking stoked for the firework show and lets you know that it’s his tradition to watch them every year, and while none of his wives like to attend, he’d enjoy it if you watched with him!

Unfortunately, a Kasugai crow arrives two days before the light show, instructing Tengen to head North in search of a demon that is hunting children in a small fishing village. Duty calls, but of course, it’s a significant blow to your intended plans.

Tengen leaves on his mission but only after telling you that you should watch the fireworks anyway. Who knows, depending on where he is, you both might be watching at the same time, and that’s kind of exciting, too, right?

So, on the night of the fireworks show, you perch yourself on a small wall and look up at the sky, your mind wandering and wondering what Tengen is doing at that exact moment. You shiver, a sudden presence envelopes you and pulls you into an embrace from behind.

“Hey, beautiful. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Your body melts into his chest as the first fireworks fly into the night sky. You don’t have to look back to see the joy that overtakes his features—you can just feel it.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Does Sanemi enjoy fireworks? Not especially. He thinks they’re too loud and hates it when the air gets polluted with so much smoke it makes his eyes burn. Those may seem like silly reasons, but there’s also a more relevant explanation for his disdain, which has to do with demons. At one point, he fought a demon that was using the cover of fireworks to devour villagers; the loud pops and smokey environment created the perfect storm.

Regardless of those reasons, he’d never tell you that he hates fireworks, and as he glimpses over at you, the pure joy written all over your features as a firework whizzes into the air and explodes into blue-like gems that cascade downward from the sky. He thinks that, in some instances, fireworks may be okay.

Sanemi pulls you into his lap and rests his face in the nape of your neck. “Nemi!” you protest, “you’re going to miss the show.”

“Naw, I’m good like this.” He snakes his arms around you and allows himself to exist—and relax—in this moment with you.

Gyomei Himejima

“That one was beautiful, Gyomei.”

“Describe it to me.”

You search for the right words to describe the light show in front of you—you always thought you were decent with words until you met Gyomei who made it a habit of asking you to describe things that had always felt painfully ordinary. It wasn’t until you started to describe the world around you with vibrancy and depth that you began to appreciate the beauty of the world around you.

"Well, those lights, in particular, were a bright orange and crimson color and…you know how when we wake up in the morning, you can feel the sun touching your face as it peeks in through the window; how the rays feel gentle, warm, and exactly like what you need to start your day on a good note? That’s what those colors feel and look like, to me.”

You blush, hoping your descriptions are enough to paint a picture for him. Gyomei doesn’t need you to describe things to him, especially with his enhanced senses, but your honeyed voice never ceases to stir something in him, so he makes you narrate—a lot.

Gyomei hums approvingly, “thank you, my sweet girl. But I hate to admit that when I wake up every morning, I no longer associate the sun with warmth. For me, you and your presence embody every bit of warmth I feel.”

“Gyomei,” your voice dripping with warning. “Keep talking like that, and we’ll be cutting this show short.”

Gyomei chuckles, knowing that you’re half teasing and half threatening him—and while usually, he’d never turn down a heated romp with his beloved—he’s enjoying being here with you in a rare moment of respite from his Hashira duties. He takes your hand into his, rubbing his thumb gently against your palm. “My apologies. I’ll contain myself for now. Please, don’t stop. Keep describing them to me.”

Giyu Tomioka

“This is a date?” He says in his deadpan voice. You suck in a large amount of air, getting ready to verbally admonish him for being such a smart ass, but the corners of Giyu’s mouth twitch upward, “kidding.”

“You’re not even as remotely funny as you think you are, Tomioka.” You turn back to the night sky, which is littered with explosions. You feel your cheeks growing hot and your temper flaring, frustrated at Giyu’s inability to take something so meaningful seriously.

“Ouch, my last name. Like I said, I was only kidding.” You refuse to relent, your arms crossed over your chest. Giyu sighs loudly, “look at me, Y/N. Of course, this is a date. I…I’ve been thinking about this since you asked me to come with you and that was weeks ago. I’ve never felt so nervous and excited at the same time before.”

You turn to Giyu, your eyes shining brightly at his openness and confession. " Do you mean it?”

“Yes, now be quiet; I’m trying to watch the show.” And before you can huff, he leans back and lays his head on your lap.

“Do that thing I like, Y/N.”

You pull the tie from his hair and rake your fingers through his dark blue tresses.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro rengoku #obanai iguro #tengen uzui #sanemi shinazugawa #gyomei himejima #giyuu tomioka #kny fluff #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader

441 notes · View notes

eroticcaa · 2 months

Text

tags: none!

I got the yellow eyed idea from the blog fhrlclln! Idk if she mind being tagged, but please check out her blog and some of her fics!

They say when the devils come, your flesh will burn and blister. Turning into ash. Wives will dance in gowns of fire. Laughing. Shrieking. As they burn, lewd and naked underneath the flames. You shall see children weeping, weeping. Till their eyes melt and slide down like jelly. Till their pink flesh falls back and crackling comes from their bones.

The strangers come, he comes, she comes. To scourge us for our sins. Tears can not quench the flames. Tears can not quench the thirst of a dragon. Only blood.

His blood. Her blood.

Fire and blood.

Blood and fire.

༯༯༯

He thought you were a sleeping beauty, with the way you laid, still, in the glass coffin shaped box. Hands neatly placed and folded over your mid-section, hair placed perfectly framing your face. A light baby blue hue shined down on you making your skin glow. You looked well groomed and dressed. He guessed the Jedi really do care for their own. Yet he snickered at the thought. Yeah, right. His fingers lightly traced over the top of the glass, directly over your body. His mask amplifies his breathing as it increases, as his fingers travel upwards, your breathing increases and becomes in sync with his, body twitching and jerking along with his fingers. As if you were one.

Your brows drew together in a wince of aggression.

Why? Why were they disturbing you? You just wanted to sleep.

No. You need to Wake. Up.

You gasped as your eyes snapped open, your harsh breathing making the glass fog up as you locked eyes with the masked intruder. Under the mask, his lips stretched into a smirk as he looked into your yellow eyes with blood red around the edges.

“You’re a gorgeous little thing, aren’t you?” He whispered.

You blinked and he was gone. Like he wasn’t even there to begin with. Your breathing got worse. No. No. Come back. Please. You ached to see the masked stranger again and you didn’t know why. Your breathing got worse and you blinked again hoping they would come back but a new face appeared in your field of vision. Her face.

can you only notice I’ve been watching HOTD? ‾̀◡‾́.

I’ve recently just finished the acolyte series and omg it was so good. I usually don’t watch Star Wars series or anything related to it cuz I always fall asleep or I’m confused lmao. BUT the acolyte… *mwah* chefs kiss.

pls like, comment and reblog [if ya want!]. might turn this into a little series. Nothing like fine men and dragons ˘ڡ˘.

#qimir #qimir x reader #manny jacinto #the acolyte #the stranger #qimir x you #star wars qimir #star wars #acolyte star wars #✮ 𝑺𝑼𝑮’𝒔 𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑯 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺

183 notes · View notes

thesightstoshowyou · 4 months

Text

Generosity

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x F Reader (NSFW)

Summary: The Ghoul has never been one to refuse a lady in distress.

Warnings: Discussions of past domestic and sexual abuse, dacryphilia, dubious consent, biting, use of “daddy,” dirty talk

Everyone go bow down to @lilkrissmuffet and her delicious prompt idea

Gif by @melodyoffire

The Ghoul ought to thank you. You’re an easy bounty to track. In your obnoxious blue and yellow jumpsuit, you stick out like a sore thumb among all the lifeless tans and browns of the wasteland. Shivering and scared, you’re a prey animal in a foreign land inhabited by predators, and you just ran headfirst into the worst of them.

Despite the split lip and jaundiced bruise over your eye, you’re a pretty little thing. Stupid too; you turn and bolt like a startled whitetail when you spot his twisted face and the hand cannon nestled in its holster. The Ghoul doesn’t blame you, though. If he were in your shoes, he’d run too.

The lasso hooks you around an ankle and yanks your feet out from under you. You crash to the ground in a flurry of sand and flailing limbs. A few, quick tugs and you’re thrashing and wailing at his feet. A knife to the throat and a whispered threat to cut out your tongue and fry it up for lunch quiets you down in a hurry.

“P-Please, please, no, I c-can’t go back, please, you don’t know what they do to us down there!” They always beg. Though, none of them beg quite as sweet as you.

The Ghoul turns his apathetic gaze to your watery eyes. Your lips are chapped, the bottom one trembling as you struggle to keep your blubbering contained. Tears streak through the dust that has collected on your sunburned cheeks. Before now, you probably never went a day without a shower.

“Honey, you got no idea what I know.”

On the horizon, thunderheads build. The ominous rumbling and static that fills the air tell the Ghoul it will soon be too dangerous for you to travel. The muscles in his face flex as he works his lower jaw back and forth. If it’s not one fucking thing, it’s another.

Rain pummels the ancient shingles of the ramshackle house, your temporary accommodations for the evening. In the corner, you sit huddled and trembling, your sniveling audible in the lulls between cracking thunder. Flashes of lightening glint off his blade as it slides across a whetstone.

From under the brim of his hat, the Ghoul watches you square your shoulders and inhale a fortifying breath. Here comes the bargaining.

“Excuse me, Mr…?” He says nothing in response to your timid question. A head tilt and a quirked brow are the only indications he gives that he’s listening. Voice quivering, you try again, “Um, I-I know there’s probably a reward for…for bringing me back—

“Yer husband’s offerin’ a handsome sum of caps for yer safe return. So, unless ya’ got double that stashed in that lil’ uniform a’ yers, ya’ can shut yer trap.” The Ghoul sees the tears welling up in your eyes from across the room. Now the sob story….

“Please! Please just listen. They…we’re used like chattel down there! He, my-my husband…” you spit out the word like it’s poison, “…hurts me. Hurts me all the time. I’m not the only one, there are other wives, others he hurts. I’ll-I’ll do anything not to go back, please. I don’t have any caps, but I’ll do…I’ll do anything.”

The promise of that last word hangs in the air, thick and heavy like the humidity from the thunderstorm. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what you’re offering. If he were a weaker man, or if he cared even a little for your predicament, perhaps he’d take you up on your “generosity,” but pussy doesn’t pay for chems.

“That’s mighty generous of you, sweetheart, takin’ pity on a lowly Wastelander like myself.” The Ghoul’s tone drips with sarcasm. He revels in the way you stumble over your apologies, your ‘No-that’s-not-what-I-meants.’

Casually, he adjusts his position, the hand holding the knife draping across his bent knee so he can more comfortably observe your floundering. Admittedly, the desperate tears pouring down your face are beginning to stir something deep in his belly. It’s too easy to imagine how you’d look under that vault suit: So much supple, unmarred skin begging to be bruised….

You’d offered, the Ghoul supposes. He isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, what the fuck else is there to do around here?

How you ended up beneath him, nearly bent in half and taking him up to the hilt is all a bit of a blur, but it’s too late now to question things. You’re wet and mostly willing, gripping him so tight it almost hurts. You were a fantastic little actress—probably have to be with your home life being what it is—mewling like a kitten just how most men would adore, but the Ghoul isn’t most men. A “performance” isn’t what he had in mind.

Now, you scream for real. Your nails dig into the gnarled flesh of his shoulders and fresh tears wet your face as the Ghoul grips you behind the knees and jackhammers into your suckling hole. “That’s more like it, sweetie,” he urges, his voice clipped and hoarse. “Keep cryin’ for me.”

His teeth find the soft skin of your neck and the urge to sink them in deep and tear your throat out pulls a growl from his chest. However, you’re worth a lot more alive. The Ghoul settles for sucking a purple bruise onto your flesh instead. You taste like salty sweat with barest hint of familiar floral perfume.

“Oh—god, god, D-Daddy don’t stop—

You choke on your words when you realize what you said. He chuckles low in his throat when he feels the embarrassed heat rushing to your face. “Now who told ya’ t’call me that?” he teases.

Furiously, you shake your head and stammer, “I’m-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—

“No, no, baby, I never said I didn’t like it. Let’s hear it again. Tell Daddy how good that lil’ pussy’s feelin’.” Your needy whine makes him groan and renews his desire to fuck orgasms out of you until you pass out.

He does, almost. He fucks you until the downpour outside tapers off into a light sprinkle, until you’re sore and drooling into the dirt. He fucks you until dark bruises in the shape of his fingers bloom along your hips and your blood dries on his lips because he couldn’t help but have a taste of your sweet skin. He fucks you until he has no choice but to pull out and paint your inner thighs with spend; he’d pump you full but he has no desire to share his last bag of Radaway.

Sated and feeling merciful, the Ghoul lets you sleep off your fucked-out stupor until afternoon the next day. He spends the morning resting and refueling and sucking down Jet while you doze, oblivious. Golden rays of sun pour in through the holes in the rickety house frame and illuminate the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders. The word “peaceful” comes to mind as he notes the way your worried frown has smoothed out in slumber.

But, all good things….

The Ghoul stands with a groan and a long stretch before he slings the saddle bag over his shoulder. He nudges you with the toe of his boot and rouses you with an energetic, “Rise and shine, sleepin’ beauty!” You roll over and blink up at him, bleary-eyed and befuddled.

“Wha…?”

“Got a lot of ground to cover today. Make yerself decent.”

“What…what are you talking about? Where are we going?” Your confusion would be endearing if he didn’t already know what comes next.

“Well, sugar, I got a bounty to cash in on. Now, are ya’ gonna behave or am I gonna have to drag ya’, kickin’ and screamin’ through the dirt?”

“But-but last night…!”

“Last night was real sweet, darlin’, but Daddy’s got bills t’pay.”

Most men would be moved or even ashamed by the look of betrayal and rage etched in every inch of your expression.

But the Ghoul isn’t most men.

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout #fallout show #fallout 2024 #thesightstoshowyou

238 notes · View notes

cheollipop · 1 year

Text

move

navi | taglist

pairing: pole dancer!choi san x club owner!reader (fem)

w.c.: 3.3k

tags: smut, ft. pimp!woo

song rec: 'move' by taemin

with his toned thighs wrapped around the pole, sweat glistening under the changing lights, you felt the urge to wipe the cocky smirk off the new hire's lips. but little did you know, choi san loved performing for a crowd.

warnings: this —in white— is san's outfit for reference (except tighter, cheaper-looking and with a different chain), mentioned mxm, reader has one drink but everything is consensual, switch!san (shorty give me whip-whiplash), mean!reader, she's a badass though, public sex, unprotected sex (👎), san has a nipple piercing, some nipple play (m), multiple orgasms (m), multiple creampies, some edging, overstimulation, a hint of breeding/impreg kink, voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, so much dirty talk, nicknames (sannie, pretty boy; miss, darling), I think that's all (?)

A/N: this is for my lovely, pretty, gorgeous, insanely kind, amazing, genius, and beautiful alyssa (@kitten4sannie) <3 I'm sorry this took over a month to get to ;; I really hope the wait was worth it though!! happy reading~ ^^

nsfw under the cut—minors dni!! 🔞

Scrunching your nose at the rancid odour of sewage, your heeled boots clacked against the pavement leading to the guarded club entrance, digging into your coat pocket and fishing out a stack of bills to lay gently in front of the homeless man’s sleeping bag. You passed by him every night, his yellow grin a stark contrast to his surroundings—fetid air driving everyone in the area to hold their breath, disease-ridden rodents and pretentious high school dropouts with one too many stacks of their daddy’s money crawling around in the vicinity.

You walked past the burly guard at the front, watching his ninety-degree bow from the corner of your eye as you stepped into the club. It wasn’t the best area to run such business, but you got enough loyal customers—mostly rich men lying to their wives—to pay the bills. You supposed you should be thankful to your father for that, the wretched bastard leaving his only daughter to run this shithole.

You walked down the short hallway and into wide room, blues and purples illuminating the shiny tile and peeling walls as you carried yourself to the bar near the entrance. The rusted stool creaked as you rested your body weight down on it, ignoring the young bartender as she scrambled to make your usual drink, drops of expensive liquor flying over the bench before she dropped a decorated glass in front of you. Giving her a tight-lipped smile, you wrapped your fingers around the cup and allowed the bitterness to sink into your taste buds.

Sitting sideways at the bar, forearm flat on the surface with the drink loosely held in your hand, you focused your eyes on the man to your left, moving his body around the pole anchored in the middle of the room. Cheap, glittery fabric pressed into the skin of his toned chest, stretching around his biceps until a peak of his warm skin tone shone through the white. His thighs wrapped around the pole, the muscles bulging as he held himself up and rolled his body around the metal rod, a dainty belly chain loose around his narrow waist, head rolled backwards to stretch out the column of his freckled throat. You could tell he was trying to show off his rounded backside, but his movements carried a certain stiffness that made you scoff. The customers spread out on the seats surrounding the stage—a mix of older, unhappily married men, and younger, broke college students who couldn’t afford a fancier club—didn’t seem to mind as much, taking in his lousy attempt of an arch and the prominent bulge pressing against the thin material of his shimmering bottoms, ogling eyes zeroing in on the metal bar piercing his nipple as it occasionally brushed against the pole.

He lowered himself down onto the LED flooring on his tiptoes, maintaining the graceful stance as the song came to an end, feline eyes flitting upwards to bore into yours. He oozed confidence, the air around him almost unbreachable, and for a reason you couldn’t place your finger on, the cocky curl of his lips irked you, your eyebrow twitching in irritation at the shameless show of brashness.

Veiny arms circled your shoulders, a familiar rasp in your ear, “that’s the new hire I was telling you about. Pretty neat, don’t you think?” His dark brown locks tickled your temple, curved nose nuzzling into your hair.

You hummed in agreement, “Mm, good job, Woo. He’s pretty.”

“And tight, ‘tried him out myself,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, proud of his take on a job interview.

You reached back to smack his shoulder, a faint smile on your lips. “He’s a little too confident for someone who can’t even arch properly, though,” you critiqued, narrowing your eyes at the man now bent over in front of the small crowd, thick fingers wrapped around the pole while he attempted to move his stiff muscles.

“He’s not that bad,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, tracing over the man’s plump ass with his eyes as he played back the events from the previous night in his mind, the throaty moans and whimpers still fresh in his ears.

“Even you can do a better job than him, and that’s saying a lot.”

Two fingers pinched your upper arm through the blazer covering it, Wooyoung’s unamused huff blowing over the shell of your ear. “If you’re so displeased by his performance, why don’t you teach him how to do it yourself?” He pushed back the image of the man’s narrow waist and puckered hole, replacing it with the memory of the private show you’d put on for him the week before.

While Wooyoung was too busy fighting off the sudden tightness in his pants, you contemplated his words—despite knowing he’d spoken them humorously. Tightening your hand around your drink, you brought it up to your lips and gulped down the rest of it, pushing Wooyoung off you and standing up. He scrambled to find his footing, caught off guard by your brassy stride towards the center of the room, aiming towards the occupied chair right across the stage.

With a hand on the college freshman’s shoulder, you pulled him off the worn-down leather, sitting down in his place and watching him scurry away with a hand halfway down his pants. Redirecting your attention towards the handsome man in front of you, his gaze instantly locked with yours, and something in his eyes gave away that he knew who you were. His hips swayed with more finesse—still not up to your standards—and his expression contorted to mimic a state of ecstasy. He was trying to impress you.

You watched for a few seconds, until he bent down lower, the pathetic arch of his spine pushing the words off your tongue, “Choi San, was it?” your voice cut through the music. “It seems like Wooyoung may have spoken too highly of you. I’m a little disappointed,” you took pleasure in the slow erasure of his cocky smirk, his movements faltering as he took in your words, hints of discontent evident in your tone. “Stand up straight, pretty boy.” You leaned forward in your seat, resting your elbows over your thighs as you watched him hesitantly part from the pole to straighten up. A smirk—a sign of power, perhaps—found its way onto your lips, “why don’t you grind on that pole for me? Since you seem so confident in yourself.”

Red tinted the shell of his ears, and you wondered how a few words could have affected a man like him so easily, as though he wasn’t standing in a room full of people ogling at his body, two pieces of glimmering fabric hiding him from their deviant gaze.

You could almost see the thoughts churning in his pretty head, dubiously reaching for the pole once again, standing behind it and beginning his decent into a full squat. Firm muscle bulged out of his thighs, oiled, tan skin reflecting the moving lights shining over his figure, his clothed bulge trapped between the metal and his abdomen. His hands remained above his head as he sunk lower, the cropped material of his shirt riding up to reveal more of his flushed chest. You watched him wordlessly, eying the deliberate brush of his nipple piercing over the pole, a muted ‘clink’ drowned under the music. Your eyes moved back to his face, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyebrows drawn in, and when you trailed down his body, your lips only curled further: his half-hard length pressing against the scratchy fabric, a wet patch spreading through the material and shimmering alongside the glitter. You may be starting to understand Wooyoung’s strange infatuation with the man.

You pushed off the creaky leather, smoothing down your suit before taking a few steps onto the round LED flooring, standing next to the crouched man and watching him twist his head to look up at you.

It was known rule everywhere that the dancers were not to be touched, and you figured your next move would probably be setting a bad example in front of your customers, but your clientele consisted mostly of regulars, people who knew you to be the boss. People who knew you made the rules.

You reached down to grab his face, fingers digging into his jaw and angling it further upwards, “you’re too stiff.” Your lips curved at his attempt at pushing away, nose scrunched up in defiance.

“’m not stiff,” he retorted weakly, words muffled through the tight squeeze of your fingers around his face.

“What’s the matter, Sannie, did Youngie fuck you too hard last night? Can’t even arch your back properly?” You gave his head a firm shake with every rhetorical question, pouting your lips in faux sympathy. His cheeks heated up under your touch, the pretty pink bleeding down his neck and chest as your aired out his nightly endeavors.

“I can arch my back-”

“My club is gonna run out of business if you keep running your mouth instead of doing your job properly, pretty boy. My old man would be rolling in his grave if that ever happened. We don’t want that now, do we?” You watched panic seep into his features when you spoke your next words, “how will you pay off your debt then, hm?”

“I-I’ll learn how to do it, please just-” his fingers release around the pole and wrap around your calves instead, his knees falling to the floor by your feet while he pleaded. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

His touch wasn’t unpleasant, rough fingertips brushing over your clothed skin, squeezing gently while he squirmed under you. Your fingers eased around his jaw but didn’t let go, pleased to have a man of his stature in the palm of your hand, yours to maneuver and handle however you wished. “And what will you do until then? Learning takes time, and we’re short-staffed, you know.”

A dangerous glimmer lit up San’s dark eyes, a sense of danger churning in your gut. Skilled hands slid up your legs, past your knees and thighs to settle on the curve of your hips, nuzzling his face into your palm before speaking. For a reason you couldn’t exactly pinpoint, you allowed him to do as he pleased, as though you suddenly had your own personal, human-sized cat, brimming with affection it didn’t know how to express. Siren eyes blinked up at you, a smile loaded with playfulness and mischief directed at you.

“I’ll just make sure to put on a performance they’ll never forget.”

Antsy hands pushed open your unbuttoned blouse to slide over the heated skin, your dress pants tossed and abandoned over the chair you’d been sitting in, lace panties dangling off the ankle resting on San’s shoulder. His glitzy top scratched against your skin, forming a blister you were too busy to care about as San’s body pressed against yours with his belly chain forming indents into your navel, his cock pounding into you to the steady beat of the music blasting through the decrepit speakers, a distant whirring disrupting the audio.

You slapped his hand off your chest, a warning look in your eyes and a pathetically despondent one in his, reaching for your hand and guiding it to his own chest, a silent ‘touch me instead.’ It was fascinating how quickly San’s cocky persona vanished once he got his dick wet, his face contorting—eyebrows furrowed and his eyes lidded—while you pulled on his piercing, rolling his nipple under your thumb and reveling in the tight moans rolling off his tongue.

“Fuck, ‘m close,” he mumbled, readjusting on his knees, the tight material of his bottoms low on his thighs restricting the movement.

“Already?” you teased, sucking in a sudden breath at the new angle, his cock curving into your g-spot through his relentless thrusts, his previous rhythm lost in his overflowing lust. “What a waste of a pretty cock, can’t even last long enough to make me cum.”

You noted the rose bleeding into his ears once again, his hips stuttering and a throaty moan leaving his lips as he emptied inside you, his hot seed spreading warmth through your lower belly. You laughed as he lowered himself onto you, hovering over your torso while he rolled his hips into your cunt, riding out his orgasm with airy moans and tightly-shut eyes. Paper bills fluttered in the air, some sticking to the sweat beaded on San’s back while the majority landed around your tangled bodies.

You were about to get up, words of beration forming on your tongue, but San took a few breaths and drove his cock further into you, grinding his length between your dripping walls until it chubbed up once again. It caught you off guard, his eagerness to perform, to prove himself to you, to fuck you dumb in front of all your customers.

The slow pace he adopted wasn’t enough, but the deliberate drag of his cock over your g-spot nearly sent you spiraling, the leg perched up on his shoulder shaking with every thrust. “Ngh, do you like being watched, pretty boy?”

San’s bashfulness was nowhere to be found, replaced with a pleased smile and a quick nod to his head, “Mm, I do,” his fingers kneaded the flesh of your thigh, his other hand pushing down your right leg to further open you up for him, driving his cock into you twice before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “what about you, Miss? You’re the same, aren’t you? I can feel your cunt squeezing around me every time you look at the perverts watching us.”

Your limbs felt heavy, something in your stomach convulsing at his words. “Watch your mouth-”

Calloused fingers slipped under you to tangle in the hair at your nape, tugging sharply until your neck craned at the force, your next words dying on your tongue as he began pistoning his cock into your needy cunt, a broken cry ripping through your chest as his cockhead pressed into your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You want them to watch how I’m gonna fuck you full? I’ll give you all I have, Miss, every last drop, until you’re all swollen with my cum,” he rambled, soft lips pressed against your temple while he hammered into you, sending you barreling towards the edge.

A tingle spread through your limbs, the edges of your vision darkening, and you prepared to freefall into a numbing orgasm, but San’s hips suddenly slowed to a languid grind, his lips stretching menacingly against your skin.

“No- fuck, I was so close-”

San interrupted your complaints, “tell me you want it.”

Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance. It was as though he was holding your orgasm for ransom. “Don’t be a fucking asshole, I’m still your boss-”

“-and I’m the one fucking you stupid,” he retorted, that vexing smirk on his face once again, and you wanted to punch it away. You’d assume abusing an employee would bring bad rep to your club, though, and you couldn’t afford to lose any customers. So you settled on glaring at him, attempting to roll your hips but huffing when San’s hands anchored you down to the floor.

“C’mon, just say you want it. I’ll give you whatever you want, Miss.” He lowered his voice down to a whisper, “all of it, just for you.”

The deep baritone of his voice, the words flowing smoothly off his tongue, warm hands splayed over your hips, occasionally squeezing at the flesh at the end of every sentence, his musky perfume mixed in with the tangy scent of his sweat engulfing your senses. Your walls pulsed around his cock, sitting thick and heavy inside you while you squirmed under him, the skin of your cheeks heated under his gaze as he awaited the words he wanted to hear. After a few minutes of his relentless stare-down, cat-like eyes boring into yours with incessant demand, you gave in, muttering the words under your breath and breaking eye contact.

Just when you thought you could breathe again, his deep chuckle echoed in your ear, the pleasant sound preferable over the music playing in the background, but his words sent a wave of cold sweat seeping out of your pores, “No, no. Say it louder for me, darling.”

You huffed in exasperation, the smell of alcohol swimming in the air between you. Shutting your eyes to relieve yourself of the sight of San's sharp jawline and arched eyebrow, you missed the way his gaze flitted upwards to meet with Wooyoung’s—the man now sat in the chair to the left of the stage, palming at the obvious tent in his pants.

San gave a harsh thrust to egg you on, the shot of pleasure shooting up your spine at the gesture enough to push the words off your tongue, “just fucking give me your cum already, ‘want it all inside,” you slurred, voice breathy with hints of desperation.

San didn’t waste any time before picking up his pace, pounding into your heat with urgent want, as though he was a starved man at a banquet. It was as though he’d lit your nerves on fire, the pleasure so intense your mind went numb, nails digging into San’s biceps as he pulled moan after moan out of you. “Hnnngh! L-like that, yeah-”

There was no build-up to your orgasm, and you found yourself tumbling down a steep cliff into a valley of ecstasy, lips forming an ‘o’ while San guided you through it. With your back arched off the ground, your blouse damp and stuck to your slick back, you clung to the fluid drag of San’s throbbing cock between your fluttering walls, the sound of skin-on-skin following the beat vibrating through the speakers.

San’s fingers dented your skin with enough force to promise blossoming bruises, his breath laboured as he began to chase his own high after you’d ridden out yours, fucking into you like a madman, “’m almost there, Miss, ‘gonna make sure you’re nice and full of me,” He groaned near your ear, the sound melting away the tinges of overstimulation jolting you away from him, his tight grip keeping you in place to buck his hips into your used hole. “So full you might get pregnant- ngh!”

Driven to completion by his own words, San’s throaty moans drowned out the melody strumming in the background, spurts of hot cum adding to the white painting your walls as he milked himself of every last drop. It seemed like you were the one who had fucked him stupid, barely-coherent, babbled praise flowing into your ear as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

Your knee dug into your chest, and you stared at the lace still hanging off your ankle where it sat on San’s shoulder, pins and needles pricking at your muscles from the prolonged position. But you didn’t complain, simply basking in the afterglow while San’s chest rose and fell into yours. You could see the flutter of paper bills in your peripherals—more than you’d ever seen before on a slow, Thursday night—barely any of them reaching you as the men tossing them had their dominant hands preoccupied. Your eyes moved sideways, meeting Wooyoung’s, already staring back at you with a knowing smirk on his pouty lips.

Through the thick haze of the orgasm still clouding your mind, your muscles twitching with its remnants as San’s cock spasmed pathetically between your flooded walls, two loads streaming out of your stretched cunt, you realised just how much Choi San enjoyed performing for a crowd.

And just how much you could profit off that.

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#choi san x reader #choi san smut #san smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san x reader #choi san oneshot #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #san fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #choi san #ateez #ateez san #ateez scenarios

1K notes · View notes

gladiatorcunt · 2 months

Text

- # 🎰 All or Nothing (Ace in the Hole) !!

cw: afab!reader, breeding, implied murder, inaccurate fallout au (vault inspired by Fallout 76 bc i just wanted one mention of appalachian horror vibes), reader lowkey has a old man fetish (mentions of age gaps though no specific men are mentioned), childhood best friends to strangers to lovers (forcibly), future extreme dubcon, fallout typical sexism and expectations & creepy behavior (attempted grooming (?)), biblical undertones, ambiguous time period, implied southern setting & characters, unedited

1k event / commissions

It’s been so quiet for ages now, deathly silent as if everyone in the world was perfectly sound asleep. Your world consists of metal tunnels buried deep underground, a myriad of dark rooms that are meant to simulate the life you’re supposed to have on the surface. A cafeteria, where there’s hearty chuckles and playful ribbing over food even astronaut’s would have turned their noses up at. Piles of meat the same color as a fresh corpse, slightly moldy cheese and bread on the days the ego maniac people in charge are feeling fancy.

Green Houses, meeting rooms, infirmarys, kitchens, breeding rooms bedrooms, you truly have it all in vault 426. Jewel of the Texas Commonwealth. Even the howling coming from above like a hailstorm can be soothing when you have nothing else to listen to. They say your name when your back is turned, when they know you can’t venture out to see them. The temptation has driven people mad before, it will again. Right now, you wander through the vault searching for any sign of life. Yesterday you were arguing with your Ma over what she had done, hitching your wagon to one of the few unclaimed men your age. Now you were wishin’ on stars the elders used to talk about seein’ that you would peek around the rusting corner to find her waiting. You don’t want to wonder why there’s blood on the wall, varying between bright and darker shades of red.

Not a single peep from the man you were meant to marry, ‘your last chance at a proper purpose’ Pa had said. This vault wasn’t strongly steered in the direction of being a hive for breeding, but in these uncertain times more pairs of hands ready to rebuild the world were more than encouraged. Seeing as this bubble of refuge from the acid sky was so precious, every life counts. You knew that future would be yours someday, and you didn’t really mind. It got boring occasionally in the vault, knitting the same garment again and gossiping with your Ma’s friends about the same subjects. Maybe a cock in your cunt would settle your nerves, caring for a baby would be a task that would never end.

The wedding was supposed to be today, at noon on the dot. You overslept, panicking when your kitschy alarm clock didn’t rouse you from your dreamless sleep. It wasn’t until you zipped up your blue and yellow suit and tip toed outside of your room that you truly felt afraid. What reason would you have had to feel the uncomfortable emotion before? Life was so serene and idyllic nestled in the dirt, your vault a poor man’s sword in the stone. An intoxicating comfort zone that you cared more about staying in than fighting against, though there whispers from dwellers who felt otherwise. Your childhood friends, Patrick and Art, who you have drifted apart from over the years.

It was childish, your past feelings of jealousy, it wasn’t hard for them to become the most eligible bachelors in the community. There were only a handful of single young men left these days, or your only option was a old timer who had already broken in quite a few wives. They have the chipped belts and rough hands to prove it, you’ve gotten a rush of fluid in between your thighs when you lie awake and think about it for too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too terribly awful if you got saddled with a stern older man, some beaten down part of your brain begs for it. Your Pa’s buddies used to say that they would bet good money on tight your velvet grip would be.

There were many invitations to sit in on their blackjack games left unanswered in your Ma’s nightstand, under brass lock and key.

But to see your friends be giggled and fawned over made your stomach churn, so you pushed them away and focused on living as any good dweller would. Preparing to spend your years with your lips frozen in a smile and your holes split open around wrinkly skin, your shape molded by your husband. If you could’ve known that that would only make more determined to prove their toughness to you, that they would be the hands clasping pearls around your neck and slamming their dicks into your untouched flesh.

“Aw, hell-” A deep voice gasps and grabs ahold of your fore arms, wrestling you into an abandoned bedroom as you walk past.

You squawk, flapping your arms around in an effort to fight. Then you see him, Art, smiling gently and reaching out to cup your tear covered cheek. His other hand is free, which means that the man restraining you has to be Patrick. Where one is, the other will he close behind. There’s a saying about smoke and fire, and you hear the crackling embers as Art gingerly slides his other hand around your neck. A new fangeled set of pearls, hard won and all yours. Call it an engagement present.

“There you are, Angel Face, we were so damn worried about you.” Art coos, the ‘damn’ hissed in a way that gives off a ‘I still haven’t got used to being allowed to swear’ impression.

You think he could the be the angel, a scythe discarded in favor of a well used hatchet lying on the floor. His blood splattered curls call to you, or the absurdity of the situation must be sinking in and overpowering your ability to accept reality. Of course you had sensed their hungry eyes burning holes into your soul, yes you had heard the shuffling and muffled shouts outside your door. The way it would creak open when you were believe to have succumb to slumber. You don’t feel bored, and that’s enough of a thrill for you to recognize where your new place in the food chain is. The bottom.

“I don’t- I- What’s goin’ on? Where is everybody?” You ask, stupid and content to be their lover in distress.

Patrick readjusts his hold on you and wraps his arms fully around you, spinning you around to come face to face with him. If you thought Art looks drenched in blood, Patrick appears to be made of it. There’s lightning in his eyes, a phenomenon you’ve only heard and never seen. But this must be what it’s like, electrifying and God given. You’re stained now, no doubt about it, visibly and in your spirit.

“They went nuts, like a bunch of rabid dogs.” He grunts. “We had to defend ourselves, had us out here runnin’ around like headless chickens because you were gone.”

You weren’t brought up to know much, except that animals will be animals and man reacts accordingly. Patrick’s words make about as much sense as anything ever could, and you’re desperate to believe whatever yarn they have to spin you. Art nods and saunter up behind you. He wetly pecks you on the cheek, his lips ‘Smack!’ing the plump skin as he pulls back. You gasp and they share a foreboding laugh, shoving you further down a long dusty hallway where you can pretend that nothing bad has ever happened to you. That your Virgil and Dante followed after you with innocent intent.

“Get ‘em in the stirrups, Pat. Need these legs spread nice and wide. Don’t we, sugarpie?”

Your heart drops and floats back up at a jackrabbit’s pace, “W-what?”

Your look over your shoulder is perfectly timed, your hair framing your face like a pre-war Hollywood starlet. The kind that could cry at the drop of a hat and deep throat a stuffy executive’s cock in one go. Simmering heat pools in your belly, every circle of hell seemingly setting themselves aflame in your body. And while you know they wouldn’t dare seriously terrify you, they would probably get a kick in their pants if you let a sliver of fear slip. They’re men who no longer have a societies rules to wear as if they were costumes after all, perfectly chiseled faces and painted masks.

Offering you a marriage license so they plant you in a gilded cage, but Midas ghosted his fingers along your roots years ago. When you stumbled in on two boys playing a game that used to be popular in the pre-war days, a yellow-green fuzzy ball bouncing on a wired net racket. You giggled when an elder scolded them for staging their challengers match in the hall. And with the sound of a bell, the walls came tumblin’ down.

Patrick’s grin writes your name on the dotted line, “Our pretty lil’ cock socket, we’ll repopulate in no time at all.”

They had already stolen your wedding outfit that same day way back when, slim pickings have to be snatched up in this dog eat bitch world. But they were something far above dogs with malleable forms and a blunter bite, they were opportunists and God always has his eye on those who can seize what he provides.

The House always wins.

- 2024, do not cop/translate/feed my work to ai

136 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Mentions of assault, mocking, face fucking, somnophilia, dacryphilia, dubcon.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels, did you all see AO3 was down? I was distraught lmaooo wtf??? But it's back up now which means I can have my little night time stories again hehe. Reader has been working hard to get where she is and honestly? Slay. So here is the next chapter, I will say, things will be moving a lil quickly from here on out so buckle yourself up babes <3 Enjoy!

Chapter 81: A Council of Green

The dinner was uncomfortable for you all. Just as expected.

You had gotten dressed for the evening with the help of Joanna and Amala, a black dress with red stitching and embroidery, hair half up, and half done in intricate braids with small rubies laid inside.

Aemond had been dressed in his usual black leathers again, the tunic buckling up high on his throat, but his hair was braided back and away from his face, half up, half down.

Two halves of a whole.

You had walked together, anticipation strumming in your veins with every step you took towards the Great Hall with Aemond. Anxiety steadily building as you got closer, knowing that you would be in the presence of Aegon once again, and not only that, but his entire small council including the slimy Lord, Jason Lannister.

When you had arrived, you had been relatively on time. Most of the Lords arrived at the same time as you, with Alicent decked in her usual deep green. She had blinked at you oddly, as though she had not expected you to join, or that she had been told that you would not.

Though Aegon was nowhere to be seen.

Ser Otto Hightower however, did not even spare you a second glance, as though you were part of the furniture or one of their tacky Seven tapestries that defiled the castle walls.

Perhaps you were like a part of the furniture by now.

There, seen, and rarely heard.

When Aegon finally arrived, all having waited for him for a time, food already atop the table, he was flanked by Ser Cole, who announced his entrance to the Great Hall and the small council who joined as though they were not aware of who the pompous silver haired fool was already.

The wives of the Lords of the Small Council were also present, dressed conservatively in their House colours, bright blues and soft yellows and reds. When you had sat yourself down and looked amongst the long wooden table, you had attempted to gage the attention of the other women, hoping that perhaps you could make a friend. But none of the women turned to acknowledge you, avoiding your eye carefully.

The table was full tot he brim, and even the longer tables that flanked the sides of the Hall were full of men and women, servers and guards stationed about the sides of the room. There were even some lower Lords who were not a part of the council, but in charge of large plots of land or advantageous Houses and trades.

It was, for the most part, a loud and joyous affair for them, or for all those except anyone who had witnessed the Prince and the King’s spat. Whenever Aegon’s eyes would graze over the two of you, landing on you in curiosity, the Maester or another Lord like Jasper Wylde, or even Otto Hightower would ask the King a question, speaking loudly to gain his attention.

Like you would a child.

But whilst most eyes were not on you, you felt a pair beside the King’s short glances to be particularly burning.

Jason Lannister sat at the end of the table, donned in his House colours of red and Gold, his blue eyes glued to you and Aemond. Beside him, an empty chair where his wife would have been.

"And where is your wife, Jason.” Aegon asked, noting the absence of the woman, and the presence of every other Lords.

“She sends her apologies that she could not join me in King’s Landing. She is recently with child, and well…” Jason intoned, a limacious smirk winding on his face, “You know how women get when they swell.”

The Lords wives stayed quiet, some with small, shy smiles on their faces in mock agreement whilst the Lords half heartedly agreed, others more enthusiastically than others.

It made your skin feel alight.

“And how do they get, Lannister?” Your voice carried across the table snidely before you could stop it.

A knife scraped across a plate, and all eyes were on you. You could feel Aemond’s careful gaze on the side of your cheek as you stared at Jason.

Prick.

The sound of Aegon snickering caught your ears, and you fought to not turn and face him.

The Lord pressed his tongue into his cheek as he looked at you, “Well, I am sure you will find out in due time.” He smiled, eyes flicking from you to Aemond.

“Of course, but I’m asking you.” You smiled back falsely, reaching to take a sip from your wine primly.

Jason laughed, and some of the other Lords laughed awkwardly with him, sensing the tension, “My wife,” He began, looking around the table, “Has a terrible craving for fried trout, and will burst to tears if she is without it. It goes without saying, her hysteria can be quite jarring.”

“Interesting.” You mused, placing the wine back down, “Perhaps she is not being adequately satisfied with other smaller meats.” You grinned. Aemond hummed in amusement beside you.

Aegon bellowed, large hand slapping against the wood of the table jolting goblets and cutlery. The other Lord’s joined in with their King, seeing permission to laugh at your snide remark. Even Jason himself huffed out a laugh, though the smile did not reach his eyes, and his jaw was clenched tight.

“My niece everyone.” Aegon boomed, “The sharpest of tongues and the tightest of cunts.”

The room burst into laughter again, some more nervous than others. Otto did not laugh nor smile, and Alicent glared at her son. Aemond inhaled sharply beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Ser Cole shift.

"Aegon." Alicent warned beneath her breath, eyes darting from Aemond, to Ser Cole, and then back to Aegon.

“My brother is a lucky man.” Aegon hollered, raising his goblet up in mock toast.

Aemond did not move, eyeing his brother down, anger radiating from him.

It was perfect.

You lifted your goblet to Aegon, toasting to yourself, before taking a deep sip, turning your head to Aemond, smiling. With a soft hand, you grasped his on the table, squeezing it twice.

Aemond did not squeeze it back.

“That he is.” You smirked, head still turned to Aemond who slowly turned his gaze onto you.

He was furious.

Good.

“And how is your son, My Lord?” You asked across the table, looking at Jason Lannister who’s face beamed with pride, “The last I remember was you offering his hand to me, not too long ago.”

Aemond took his hand away from yours and moved it under the table, gripping your thigh.

“Loreon grows bigger by each day,” He grinned, “ A fine young Lord. He has his mothers eyes, but thankfully my hair. Can’t have a lion without its mane.” The Lord joked, and all chuckled with him. “Perhaps one day if you are to have a daughter, the Targaryen and Lannister Houses can be united.” He grinned.

When the world is on fire, and I am long gone.

The rest of the Lords moved to their own small conversations as you continued yours with Jason, feeling Aemond’s fingers dig meanly into the flesh of your thigh.

“Only if you were to build a Dragon Pit in Casterly rock. Our daughter will need to house her dragon there some day, and I expect I would come to visit.”

“You are welcome at the Golden Tooth whenever you please, Princess. We have the finest silk sheets, and the softest of beds.”

“I suppose I will have to see for myself if the riches of the Lannister House are truly what they are said to be.”

“If it is anything like the beauty of the Targaryen House is said to be, then you will find that the riches are just as spoken of.” He boasted and flirted.

You had to bite your inner cheek from gasping as you felt Aemond’s hand bruise your leg meanly, his nails biting into your skin.

“You’d best watch yourself, Jason.” Aegon smirked, “Aemond looks ready to summon Vhagar.”

Jason paled, “My apologies, Your Grace. There were no ill intentions.”

“My husband is a possessive man and protective.” You intoned, turning your head to face Aemond whose eye was locked on Jason again, "Issa iā orvorta, ñuha dōna. Ao gīmigon iksan aōhon.” He is a cunt, my sweet. You know I am yours, You cooed sickly sweet, hand coming to brush against Aemond’s cheek.

Aegon burst into childish giggles, throwing his crowned head backwards against the high seat of his chair. Aemond’s jaw clenched. Whilst Jason cocked his head, not sure of what you had said and turned to join conversation with the other Lords.

“Yn emā issare ñuhon tolī.” But you have been mine too, Aegon grinned, looking at you with bright violet eyes.

Your heart leapt in your throat, bile rising in your mouth.

“Daor ondoso iderennon.” Not by choice,You plastered a fake smile upon your lips, Aemond’s hand digging harder into your thigh as he straightened in his seat.

To anyone else at the table, it looked as though the three of you were having a lighthearted conversation in your mother tongue.

To the three of you, it was a stand off.

“Kostan tepagon ao iā iderennon.” I may give you a choice, Aegon smirked, sipping his ale, “Aemond kostagon urnēbagon lo ziry jeldan.” Aemond may even watch if he wishes.

“Aemond iksis ñuha iderennon.” Aemond is my choice, You purred, sipping your wine, mirroring the King. You felt Aemond’s hand on your thigh loosen.

Aegon rested his elbow upon the table lazily, sitting his chin in his palm as he looked at you both, “Sesīr hae ēza iā līve?” Even as he has a whore?

Anger bubbled up inside of you. You ground your teeth together and pushed out a false laugh, far too high to be believable, Alicent’s eyes darting to you with her brows drawn.

“Sesīr pār.” Even then.

“Lēkia, emā zirȳla orvorta qilōny.” Brother, you have her cock whipped, Aegon smirked.

Aemond hummed lowly, “Issa iā sȳz ābrazȳrys.” She is a good wife.

You almost beamed at the praise. You picked up your goblet to stop yourself from smiling, bringing the cup to your lips to sip at the honeyed Essos wine.

“Ivestragon nyke, qilōni's orvorta iksis rōvykta?” Tell me, who's cock is bigger? Aegon asked, and you spluttered your wine, inhaling it and coughing into your palm.

The urge to dive across the table and force a knife between his eyes grew larger.

You stayed quiet, sipping the wine again to settle the tickling burn in the back of your throat, and the rising anger that continued to mount within. Words fought in your chest to fly from your lips, but you swallowed them.

“Aōha lykemagon vestras nyke.” Your silence says me.

“Ñuha āeksio valzȳrys’.” My Lord Husbands, You smiled, wishing to sink your teeth into his throat, biting through the tendons and flesh, and ripping your head backwards, tearing the flesh away and watching his blood spurt out.

Aegon ignored his Small Council, Lords and Ladies who had travelled from all over the realm to dine with him, and enjoyed the small time given to direct snide remarks to Aemond without the chastising of his mother.

“Ao gīmigon lēkia, eman ryptan mirri sȳz udir hen Harrenhal.” You know brother, I have heard some good news from Harrenhal.

Aemond stilled.

The King grinned, teeth and gums being revealed by his lips pulling back, “Ēza Aemond ivestretan ao?” Has Aemond told you?

“Nyke gīmigon iksā nūmāzma naejot.” I know you’re about to, You snipped.

“Ah, ēza daor. Sȳrī,” Ah, he hasn’t. Well, Aegon smirked, leaning forward, “Gaomagon ao remember bona witch isse Harrenhal?” Do you remember that witch in Harrenhal? He tapped his chin in mock thought.

He knew who she was.

“Alys?” He continued.

Alicent’s head snapped to her son, eyes darting back and forth at the sound of her name. Your heart raced against your chest, heat rising to your cheeks.

How could you forget?

“Hen rhinka.” Of course, You said dully, swirling your wine in your hand as you tried to not give him any satisfaction as rage bubbled inside of you.

Not only at the King, but at your husband.

“Ñuha lēkia ēza issare working qopsa, pār emā daor given zirȳla iā dārilaros.” My brother has been working hard, since you have not given him an heir.

An heir.

“Aegon.” Aemond warned, jaw set in a stiff line.

“Skoros? Kostagon nyke daor biarvī manaeragon ñuha lēkia becoming vala? Iā kepa?” What? Can I not celebrate my brother becoming a man? A father?

Your blood ran cold, and fire licked at your face.

“Kepa?” Father? You seethed, teeth showing, smile faltering on your lips.

“Oh yes, Alys iksis lēda riña.” Alys is with child, Aegon grinned.

With child.

You saw red.

“Alys iksis lēda riña.” You parroted, tying to collect yourself as you thought of driving your fist into Aemond’s sapphire eye.

With child.

Alys was pregnant.

“Y/n-“ Aemond began.

“Aemond,” You interrupted him, turning your face to look at your husband, face cool, “Rijes aōt issi isse jorrāelatan. Kostilus, jikagon ñuha udir naejot aōha līve.” Congratulations are in order. Please send my word to your whore.

Aegon guffawed, eyes bouncing between the two of you. Aemond stared at you with a sallow face, your own carefully schooled.

You were enraged.

Your hand around your goblet tightened, nails reaching around the cool metal to dip into your palm as you desperately tried to use it to ground yourself.

“Bisa iksis daor skorkydoso-“ This is not ho-

“Valzȳrys,” Husband, You smiled joylessly, all teeth, “Ivestragī īlva daor ȳdragon hen aōha nādrēsy’s.” Let us not talk of your bastards.

“Kostilus īlon should maghagon-“ Perhaps we should bring-, Aegon began.

“Aōha Valyrīha jorrāelagon mirre.” Your Valyrian needs work, You snipped, mock toasting your wine to him again, small droplets falling from the rim to the table below at the force of your thrust, barely contained anger spilling over.

You let your eye trail over the King, his crown atop his head, wavy silver hair peaking beneath it, a small blush on his cheeks from the ale.

You were furious.

You were enraged.

You wished to hurt Aemond.

"Sir bona nyke pendagon hen ziry, iksā qumblie.” Now that I think of it, you are thicker, You mused, eyes quickly dropping to Aegon’s waist before back up at his face.

You reached to grasp the decanter from in front of you to refill your wine which disappeared at a rapid rate, and Aemond’s hand shot out, grasping your wrist tightly. The rest of the tables eyes flitted to the sharp movement. You snatched your hand away from him, not even sparing the man a glance as you continued to refill your wine.

"Konīr's bona ēngos,”There's that tongue, Aegon chuckled, smiling at you appreciatively, his eyes grazing down your body, "Nyke gīmigon iā sȳrkta gaomagon syt ziry.” I know a better use for it.

"Ȳdra daor.” Don’t, Aemond finally spoke, voice low and rough, hand returning to your thigh where he dug his fingers into it again, possessively and angrily.

Aegon giggled, excited that he had finally gotten Aemond to react, the unfinished fight between them simmering to almost a boiling point. “Nyke gōntan daor jiōragon naejot sylugon ziry.” I didn’t get to try it, Aegon pouted.

“Se kesā daor.” And you won’t, You purred, sipping your wine, “Yn ñuha valzȳrys gaomas.” But my husband does.

Aemond’s grip on your thigh tightened again, and you watched as he grabbed his goblet of wine and drank deeply from it.

"Kostilus kesan mirri tubis.” Perhaps I will some day, Aegon mused, pouting his lips at you as he fought off a grin.

You steeled yourself for what you were about to do, swallowing thickly as you looked Aegon in the eyes.

“Kostilus.” Perhaps.

The conversation had ended there, and Aegon had smirked, eyes half hooded as he looked at you. Alicent did not take her gaze from the three of you before you excused yourself, stating that you were tired and wished to leave your husband to his duties and fellow Lords for the rest of the evening.

You had pried Aemond’s hand from your thigh and bowed to Aegon and the other Lord’s, reminding Jason Lannister that he should begin preparing a Dragon Pit for Casterly Rock, to which he grinned in response. Aemond’s heated gaze followed you as you left the Great Hall, walking back to your chambers alone.

You arrived in your chambers and laughed loudly, furious at the news of Alys.

She was pregnant.

She was pregnant and he had not told you.

She was a greater risk to you now than before. You picked up a goblet at the side table and filled it with wine, already tipsy from the night, tossing its contents back down your throat.

But Aemond’s reaction at dinner was another thing all together.

It worked.

Your last lingering comment to Aegon, a small, ‘Perhaps', left the One-Eyed Prince reeling in his head, his hand not once undigging itself from your thighs. Even Jason Lannister unburdened flirting that evening had helped you along tremendously.

You had filled your goblet with wine once more, sitting in Aemond’s armchair, drinking slowly as you thought of the evening. Of the way his anger rose off of him in heated waves, the way he had become possessive of you with Jason. The way he scowled at his brother.

He was beginning to resent them all.

The door to the chambers slammed open, and the storming footfall of Aemond caused you to lazily turn your head to look at him.

He was irate.

“You seek to humiliate me in front of the council? In front of the King, flirting like a whore?” He sneered, marching over to you as he yanked you up from his chair, the goblet of wine tumbling from your fingers to the stone floor below, the red alcohol spilling across the tiles like blood.

“And what of you? What of your whoring? Your bastard is pregnant.” You retorted, lips pulling back to bare your teeth.

“She gave me an heir long before you did.”

You hand slapped across his cheek, Aemond’s head turning to the side.

“You disgust me.” You spat.

A shadow crossed Aemond’s face.

Your knees hit the harsh stone floors before your brain could catch up, Aemond’s large hands jarring you down by your shoulders. His eye crazed.

“You want to act like a whore, I will treat you like a whore.”

You tipped your chin up to look at him and smiled meanly, “Like Alys?”

“I told you, I did not see her.” He growled at you, hand gripping the side of your hair as he tugged your head.

“I don’t believe you.” You sneered.

Aemond’s hand moved to the front of his breeches and began to tug at the strings, impatiently ripping them open in front of your face.

A warmth spread within you.

He was so angry.

So on edge.

It had worked.

It was working.

Aemond finally undid the last of his ties and yanked his pants over his ass, pulling his cock out of the confines of his breeches. You looked up at him defiantly as he began to stroke himself in his hand, slowly getting hard.

“Having trouble?” You mocked, watching as he frowned down at you.

“Cunt.” He swore, before grabbing the back of your head roughly and tugging you towards his length.

“Open.” He barked, and you obeyed, keeping your eyes on him as he slid his length cruelly down the back of your throat in one rough push.

You gagged around him, tears prickling your eyes.

“Much better when you can’t talk.” He grunted, holding you down on him, the light curls at his base tickling your nose.

Aemond roughly pulled you back off of him by your hair, a spluttering cough escaping your lips as you sucked in a lungful of air.

“I should have his head for that. Who does he think he is?” Aemond growled, pulling you back on his length, saliva dripping from your lips onto the stone below.

Your knees ached as he began to thrust into your face harshly, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you breathed through your nose, tears dripping down your cheeks.

“Fucking Lannister scum. A Dragon Pit?” He grunted, using both hands to pull your mouth up and down his length, “He thinks he could fuck you? He thinks he could please you? Silk sheets? Is that what you want? You want fucking silk sheets?”

You gagged loudly as he pushed himself all the way in, holding your head down on him as he shook you with your hair, causing his cock to beat against your gag reflex.

“Stupid cunt. None of them could give you what I do. None of them could fuck you the way I do.” He continued, and you squirmed on the spot, bringing your hands up to his thighs to hold on for balance.

Aemond’s hands slapped yours away, “No. I didn’t say you could touch me.”

You dropped your arms, digging your fingers into your thighs as he continued.

“I am the only man for you. You are my wife.” Thrust.

“Mine.”

Thrust.

Warm heat settled in your gut as you hummed around him, curling your tongue up against the underside of his cock. Aemond moaned, letting go of one side of your head to brush hair away from your cheeks.

“Sȳz riña.” Good girl, He praised, framing your jaw with one hand, “Such a good little whore.”

Your core clenched around nothing and you shut your eyes, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache that steadily began to rise in you.

“Aegon is a cunt." The Prince growled, "A depraved, pathetic excuse for a man. Do you think he could please you?” He grunted.

You did not want to think of Aegon.

You squeezed your eyes tight.

“A useless King,” Aemond continued, thrusts becoming harsh again, “Can't even perform his own duties. Has me do them. Has me fly about the realm when he has Sunfyre and does not ride him.” Another growl, his length heavy on your tongue, you could feel every vein and ridge.

“Mother should have put me in line for the throne. We had to search the Silk Lanes for him when father died.” The wet sound of your mouth filled the room with Aemond’s complaints. “I hate him.”

I hate him.

Hate.

You sucked at Aemond’s length harder, a whine falling from this lips.

Rewarding him.

It spurred him on.

“He should beg for my mercy. Should have me rule.”

Delight sparked within you.

You curled your tongue up against the underside of his shaft, pressing the wet muscle against him as his thrusts became sloppier, thick strands of saliva hanging from your lips as he continued, the front of your dress and the stone floors below wet with it.

“Fucking pathetic.”

You hummed in agreement, opening your eyes to look up at him. Aemond looked down at you watching the way his cock disappeared into your lips. A groan falling from his mouth as you caught his gaze.

“He could never have you. He does not deserve you. He is not worthy.” His tip hit the back of your throat, “Not worthy of your perfect cunt.”

You moaned around his length.

“Not worthy of the throne.”

Thrust.

“Not worthy of life.”

Thrust.

You suck sharply on him as his thrusts grow sloppy, his mouth slackened as he breathed heavily, hands holding your head still as he chased his peak. You fought against your gags, tears moving down your face as you continued to squirm from your spot on the tiles.

It turned you on.

“Fuck.” Aemond moaned, pushing himself as deep as he could go.

His hot seed burst down your throat, causing you to cough and gag on his length as he moaned above you, holding you down on it with no escape. Each pump of his seed coating your mouth and tongue.

“Sīr sȳz syt nyke.” So good for me, “Vok byka ābrazȳrys.” Perfect little wife.

Aemond pulled himself from your lips, and a sharp inhale sucked air into your lungs as you coughed, swallowing what was left of his seed. The Prince’s hand moved to the side of your jaw stroking it as he looked down at you, thumb swiping up the seed that had escaped from the side of your mouth. Aemond rubbed it over your lips as he looked at you, your knees aching in protest.

“Filthy.” He purred.

Aemond bent down and pulled you up. The Prince took you to bed before hardening again, fucking his seed deep inside of you in the hour of the owl. You had whined and moaned, and he had fucked you roughly against the soft sheets, growling about his brother, about Jason, about the throne.

And you had encouraged it.

As the ebbs of your third release left your body, you found yourself boneless in the bed beneath Aemond, who crawled down the length of your body, planting insatiable kisses against your sensitive skin.

“I am falling to sleep.” You had argued, trying to pull him up and away from your core, where his tongue darted between your folds.

“Then sleep.” He uttered, “Let me enjoy the pleasures of my wife.”

His tongue was soft and gentle, pressing soothing kisses to your core as you felt your eyes flutter shut, fatigue dragging you down into the depths of sleep.

You woke some time later to the familiar stretch of Aemond’s cock moving through you. You had groaned, blinking in the dark up at Aemond he pushed himself inside of you.

“Wha-“

“Shh. Go back to sleep.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

466 notes · View notes

nebuladreamerrr · 2 months

Text

My biggest fan| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

REQUEST: what about the reader who is a famous model, kylian’s wife and of course everyone’s fav wag supports kylian at the euro but he didn’t win so she comforts him in the stadium around everyone and every medias, days later they pack their things, kylian is still sad but feeling better with the help of the reader and then in the summer they move in their new house in Madrid and live their best lives

Summary: After a long and challenging year full of numerous changes, a relaxing vacation is exactly what this couple needs before facing a wave of new emotions.

Warnings: English is not my first language

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but mentally go over all the steps of your skincare routine: the cleansing gel, the exfoliant, the toner, the serum, and more. Today was a very important day for Kylian, and what made it even more special was that you could be there to watch him play.

This year had been chaotic, but you were completely grateful. You had improved a lot as a person, learning to handle situations that would have made you collapse before. Professionally, it had also been a success: you modeled for Paris Fashion Week, showcasing Christian Dior designs, and for New York Fashion Week, walking for Michael Kors.

The most important thing was that you had achieved a balance between your personal and professional life. Starting to model in your teens has affected many of your relationships, as you couldn’t dedicate as much time to friends and partners as other young people. Many people didn’t understand this. However, since you met Kylian, everything was different. Both of you understood that you were young and needed to make the most of your careers to enjoy the future.

To manage your schedules, you marked the busy days on the calendar with different colors: neon blue for your photo shoots or interviews, coral for the weeks of fashion shows, green for Kylian’s training sessions or advertising campaigns, red for the events of his association that helps children, and yellow for match days, adorned with a small star if they were played away. This way, you could easily see the free days to have dinner, go out with friends, or enjoy each other’s company while watching a fun series on Netflix.

Additionally, you tried to attend each other’s events whenever possible. You often stayed to watch many of Kylian’s training sessions while chatting with the wives of his friends, and Kylian did everything he could to be present at your fashion shows. Although he knew there would be numerous photos on the Internet, he wanted to take his pictures to show you later.

Throughout the year, you had learned to appreciate the small moments together, even if they were few and far between. From homemade dinners to deep conversations about your dreams and fears, every shared moment was invaluable. And although both of you had full schedules, you knew that love and mutual support were the keys to moving forward.

Looking at yourself in the mirror one last time, you felt a surge of emotion and gratitude. You were ready to face the day. Quickly, you put your items in your bag —your phone, lipstick, and a small perfume— and headed to the wardrobe to grab your husband’s jersey and put it on before heading to the stadium.

When you arrived at the stadium, you could feel the tension in the air. As you reached the seats reserved for you, you couldn’t help but look around to take in the atmosphere. What you loved most about the Euro Cup was, undoubtedly, the affection among the fans. With a smile, you noticed some French fans hugging each other minutes before the match started.

Nervous and a bit restless, you sat down to wait for the French team to take the field for warm-ups. You smiled as you saw Kylian, looking anxious, glancing towards the stands while doing the exercises his trainer was instructing him to do. You could see his face light up with satisfaction and calm when he managed to spot you among the crowd and blew you a big kiss.

This gesture did not go unnoticed by the cameras. From the moment you made your relationship public, the cameras took a keen interest in you both. Perhaps it was because neither Kylian nor you had publicly acknowledged any previous relationships, but although at first, many people labeled you as a "fame-seeker" and "gold digger," gradually the fans began to appreciate you and fall in love with your relationship. Every time you checked your social media, you would get notifications of edits people made about you and your relationship. Often, when you went to the stadium, nervous girls would approach you asking for a photo, and you always excitedly agreed.

The excitement increased as the match was about to begin. The national anthems resonated in the stadium, and the energy of the fans filled the air. As you watched Kylian on the field, feeling the pride and love you had for him, you prepared to savor every second of this special day.

You were very excited because you knew that this day was the first time Kylian could play without a mask. Although he was still anxious and feared the possibility of getting hit, you knew that this motivated him to be a better version of himself and, above all, gave him the confidence needed for France to claim victory.

The match had barely started when you felt a rush of excitement seeing Randal Kolo score the first goal. The French team was revitalized, filled with hopes that this cup would return home. However, Spain quickly scored two goals, significantly demotivating the French team. While you were thrilled at the idea of Kylian lifting this well-deserved cup, you were especially worried seeing him nervous and scared on the field, trying to create opportunities to avoid the inevitable criticisms he would receive.

No doubt, what you liked least about football was how quickly people forgot their favorite players' struggles and still judged them harshly. Kylian hadn’t had an easy season, and everyone was fully aware of it. Saying goodbye to PSG had been a relief, and although Kylian had improved considerably in many aspects, he knew he wasn’t in his best physical shape. He had spent a lot of time on the bench this season, and despite his determination to improve, he couldn’t prevent Spain’s victory.

Knowing the wave of criticism your partner was about to face, you decided to use the VIP pass Kylian had given you at the beginning of the tournament to get down to the field. Once you saw him congratulating his rivals and wishing them luck for the final, you approached him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Y/N, amour," he responded, giving a little jump, as he didn’t expect your presence.

"Shhh, you know everything will be fine and that many people are proud of you," you whispered as you turned him so he could look at you.

"It’s been a tough year," he replied sadly.

"Not every year is good, Kyky. It’s been a challenging year and still, you’ve managed to exceed the expectations many had of you," you said, causing a slight smile to appear on his face.

"Thank you so much for all your support, amour," he responded before kissing you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the stadium tunnel.

This action did not go unnoticed. Excited fans managed to capture images of the couple at the moment, and the paparazzi sighed excitedly while quickly taking photos, trying to capture every moment as you walked away. In those moments, you knew that despite the challenges, you would always be there to support him, and together you would face whatever came your way, building a life filled with love and understanding.

You had only been back in your home in Paris for a few days, and although both of you had planned to wait and organize the move before going on vacation, you knew that what both Kylian and you needed most was a vacation, so you gradually convinced your husband to move the vacation dates up.

The vacation couldn’t have been more relaxing for both of you. Since you started dating, the United States has become your favorite vacation destination. Although you didn’t go completely unnoticed, there were noticeably fewer people paying attention to your presence, allowing you to enjoy relative tranquility.

However, these vacations weren’t entirely easy. Kylian was still worried about not meeting the expectations of the fans of the Madrid team, and much of your time was dedicated to eliminating those negative thoughts from his mind. You designed a variety of plans to help him relax and enjoy. You prepared delicious recipes with exotic ingredients, organized long massage sessions with essential oils, and planned surprise dates that enhanced the love you both felt for each other.

By the end of the vacation, Kylian not only felt more motivated by the new stage ahead but also felt deeply loved. He had learned to value even more your unconditional support and love, remembering that, as in any solid relationship, "you must remain faithful even in times of adversity."

The time together in the United States had strengthened your bond. You enjoyed sunset walks on the beach, explored new cities, and got lost in long conversations that reminded you why you fell in love in the first place. You shared laughs, adventures, and most importantly, moments of peace that became a refuge amid the storm of public life.

As the vacation came to an end, you both knew you were ready to face the challenges ahead. Kylian, renewed and full of energy, was determined to prove his worth on the field, while you were prepared to support him every step of the way. Together, you faced the future with the certainty that, no matter what happens in this new adventure in Madrid, you will always have each other.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #mbappe imagine #mbappe psg #mbappe x reader

147 notes · View notes

ellethespaceunicorn · 2 months

Text

Daddy Dearest

Title: Daddy Dearest

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Prompts: Lloyd Hansen + Female Reader + Daddy kink + “Can you feel how much I want you?” + Darkfic, requested by @hansensgirl

Summary: Your latest client takes everything from you.

Warnings: Creep!Lloyd, Daddy kink, Dark!Daddy!Lloyd, pet name (Princess), darkfic, sex work, forced ageplay, Lloyd has a corruption kink, dead dove: do not eat, dacryphilia, violence against Reader (choking, threatening, Lloyd tackles Reader)

A/N: Hi, Sab!!! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Sweet Treats Event 2024 Masterlist

My Masterlist

The dossier for your latest client reads like a warning label. It is full of kinks and fetishes you are familiar with but have never experienced yourself. And then there were a few that you had to do a little research on.

There isn’t much to read about his personal life. You notice that he is single due to his line of work, which is only listed as ‘Contractor’. You decide to keep the conversation only about pleasing your client.

The car service drops you off at a gorgeous modern mansion in the hills. In the back of a gated community, it shines with floor-to-ceiling windows and marble stone walls. The fountain in the middle of the circular driveway spouts glistening water that shoots a bit higher out of the fish sculpture atop it to signal the top of the hour.

To say you feel out of place is an understatement. While you are used to meeting high-profile clients, you would rarely meet them at their homes. They tend to opt for penthouse suites in expensive hotels or apartments that their wives or girlfriends don’t know about.

Your heels click and clack across the stone-paved driveway as you walk to the front door. You fix the short black dress that you picked to wear today. It wasn’t your usual style, a bit showy in places you would have seen on slinky lingerie, but you wore it so the client could get a better look at your assets. Noticing the doorbell camera to the right of the entrance, you press it and wait.

You weren’t expecting to hear a woman’s voice.

“Mr. Hansen will be with you shortly. Please, do come in and make yourself comfortable in the lounge to the left,” she says in an eerily chipper voice.

Before you can respond, you hear the metallic click of the door unlocking. Swallowing your uncertainty, you turn the ornate handle and open the door. You peek around the door and then step through it, closing it behind you. Spotting the lounge area, you walk over and sit on the pristine white leather couch.

While looking around the room, you notice there are no photos or other personal touches that make a house into a home. You still haven’t seen what the guy looks like; he could be hideous. But he could also be just a normal dude. As if thinking about him could get his attention, you hear a cheerful whistling accompanied by quick footsteps skipping down the stairs.

Once he makes it to the entryway of the lounge, he leans against the door jamb and crosses his arm, studying you for a moment. You refuse to be the only one being scrutinized, so you cross your arms and tilt your head while staring at him.

Handsome face, even under that trashstache. Gorgeous blue eyes and soft pink lips. His yellow and beige striped polo fits him nicely, showing off his big biceps. His fitted khakis stretch across his thick thighs. You attempt to hide your excitement as you peek at the bulge in his pants, but he catches it and chuckles.

“Alright, Princess. As much as I love that dress you’re wearing, I’ve got something that is much, much cuter waiting upstairs for you.” He winks at you, stepping toward you and holding out his hand once he is towering over you.

You tentatively put your hand in his, and he helps you up off of the couch. “Thank you, Mr. Hansen.”

He tsks at your words. “Now, Princess, while I love how polite you’re being, you’re getting the name wrong,” he starts, smiling at your confused expression. “When you’re here with me, you are Princess, and I am Daddy. Go ahead, try it out.”

His thumb soothes the skin on the back of your hand while his eyes stay on your face, waiting for a response. His smile threatens to fade as the grip on your hand grows tighter.

“Daddy,” you murmur, your voice barely loud enough for him to hear.

His other hand comes to cradle your face, then boops your nose. “Good girl, Princess. Don’t worry, I’ll get you to say it louder in due time,” he promises. “Now, come on. Let’s go and get you changed into something a bit more comfortable, okay?”

You nod, and he puts a hand around the shell of his ear. You realize that he wants you to answer him. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl. Let’s not forget that again. Daddy might not be as patient with you next time, Princess.” He boops your chin this time and turns, pulling you behind him as he exits the room and ascends the large staircase in the foyer to the second floor. You keep up with his quick steps somehow, ending up being tugged down a long hallway to a set of double doors. He lets your hand fall from him so he can be as dramatic as he needs to be.

Turning the knobs and pushing the doors open, he steps aside and lets you assess everything. A plush pastel pink carpet greets you as you move inside the room; its fluffiness compels you to remove your heels and feel it between your toes. Everywhere you looked, from the bedding on the four-poster canopy bed to the knickknacks on countless shelves to the stuffed animals piled high in one corner, various shades of pink and white assault your vision.

Posters on the wall range from inspirational quotes to teddy bears dressed as ballerinas to anime girls with varying stages of undress. The pink and white marble wardrobe draws your attention, and you open it to reveal more outfits than you could wear in a lifetime. The clothing, all in pastel shades, is of great quality and, surprisingly, all in your size. You close the wardrobe and step back into the center of the room.

“You don’t like it,” he surmises, closing the doors of the room as he steps inside fully.

“I’m just confused. I don’t feel comfortable in here, Mr. Hansen,” you plead, facing away from him so you don’t see when his face changes.

“You’re about to feel a lot less comfortable, Princess,” he cautions.

You jump at the sound of the lock clicking into place in the room. Whipping around, you watch helplessly as he lunges at you. His hands wrap around your neck as he tackles you to the pink carpeting. You try in vain to peel his hands away, and as you struggle, he somehow manages to get his hips between your legs. He growls when he feels the heat from your barely covered pussy. He uses his grip around your neck as an anchor so he can grind into you.

“Can you feel how much I want you?” He loosens his hold on your neck when your eyes threaten to roll back in your head. He pushes your face into the carpet when you start to sputter and cough.

After getting your breathing under control, you lay stock-still under him, afraid to make a move that may anger him and cause you more pain. As much as you want to push him off of you, he’s already proven what he’s capable of.

“You behave, and so will I, Princess,” he huffs, slowly rising to stand over you. “Now, you put on this cute little outfit and let Daddy take care of you.”

You follow his line of sight to clothes laid out on the bed, pulling yourself up and fixing your dress. Once you are close enough, you take in the features of the clothing he picked out-a pink denim overall dress with a stitched bouquet on the large front pocket. To wear underneath the dress is a plain white T-shirt and white briefs decorated with flowers. White knee-high socks and pink jelly sandals complete the outfit.

If you weren’t so in shock, you would scream or try to fight him. But you are past the realm of where this wasn’t going to happen. Instead, you undress as he watches. Putting on the shirt, underwear, and socks was easy enough. However, he offers to help you with the dress and gropes you here and there. He sits you down on the bed and puts your shoes on for you in an act so sweet, you almost forget where you are and what you are doing.

After looking you over, he stands to his full height in front of you and cradles your face in his hands. “I am going to ruin you. Inside and out, Princess. You have no idea,” he chuckles, using his thumb to wipe away the tear that falls from your right eye. “And please, let those tears out. They only get me more excited.” The sniffle that escapes you had him biting his lip as if to prove his point.

The remaining shred of hope you had held onto floats away in the wind as you watch him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. By the time he is lying next to you and catching his breath, your grip on reality has been fucked out of you. You curl into his side and smile at him, “Thank you, Daddy.”

A/N: Possibly the darkest Lloyd I have ever written. This Lloyd is a creep, but damnit…I love him.

#chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen fic #dark fanfiction #dark fic #the gray man #ellethespaceunicorn fic #daddy dearest #sweet treats event 2024 #dark lloyd hansen #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

105 notes · View notes

mcverse · 1 year

Text

ꨄ︎ Paring: AVATAR/ATWOW x CRUSH!! Fem! Reader

ꨄ︎ Requested: Yes/No

ꨄ︎ Type: Headcanon with scenarios

ꨄ︎ Warnings: Nudity, swears, slight mentions of sexual activity, fluff

ꨄ︎ Side note: Jake & Tonowari are before wives/ex lovers, not after. Tsu’tey is after his ex lover. They are all still of appropriate age. Y’all I forgot spider, I should probably add him at some point now that he grew on me. Inspired skinny dip scenarios from here.

please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+

— JAKE

Sure Jake was being trained by Neytiri the way of Navi but after the end of every session he would come find you.

You knew Jake before he got his Avatar body, and you assumed him being so comfortable around you was the reason he always sought you out—and not because he returned your affection.

So imagine your surprise when your standing by the edge of the water, in the middle of taking off your shirt but pause because Jake’s back flexing with water droplets were far too distracting.

“Are you feeling shy now?” Jake muses, turning around to look at you with his big yellow eyes. They squint slight as he smiles, showing on his shape teeth.

You scoff with a roll of your eyes, continuing to take off your top to hide your flushed cheeks, “Why should I be? It’s you.”

Jake laughs, the sound of ripples in the water draws your attention back to him, only to quickly dart them away when he walks out the water, bare naked.

Jake has always been a confident, cocky guy. Just because he had a new body didn’t change that. If anything, it made it worst when it came to you.

You look so small standing there like a deer caught in headlights. How could he not tease you? You made it too easy. It was cute—you are so freaking cute.

“Exactly, it’s just me.” Jake squats down, covering his junk as he playfully coos, “The water will be cold by nightfall if you don’t hurry.”

You purse your lips, dropping your shirt and pull both your bottoms down in one fluid motion, ignoring the thumping of Jake’s tail hitting the ground repeatedly.

Inhaling sharply, you finally turn to look him in his eyes, surprised to see him already looking at your face. His lips curl more now that your attentions on him, “Loser last in the water has to break it to Grace that she’s worst than a helicopter parent.”

Your breath hitch when you see him stand up quickly, ass on display as he runs back to the river. Getting over it, you shout after him, “HEY! You’re cheating.”

— TONOWARI

It was not a complete accident that he stumbled on you in the water on night, far from seeing eyes. He definitely wasn’t already looking for you, no no.

He was going to make his presence known, maybe ask why you were so far away, when he glimpse of your bare chest and he finally understood.

This was clearly a private moment, he conducted, as he turns to leave despite his mind tell him to invade it anyway.

“Tonowari?” your faint voice calls his name, most likely caught him as he pauses, thinking of ways to prove his innocence if need be, “It is you!” you laugh, drawing a blue blush to his face.

You sounded so adorable.

He stands still with his back turned to you, deciding to remain respectful, “I didn’t mean to interrupting your alone time. I was just walking by.” It was obviously a lie because there was no just walking by this far from the village.

You hum, smiling with a tilt of your head, “Do you want to join? I don’t mind your company.”

Your company. Your. You said your, not any company or just company. You singled him out.

Now Tonowari was a patient man, he was going to be chief soon so he had to be. But with you, patience didn’t fly completely ti the wind, it was just sat aside.

He’s turning around against his better judgement, about to join you in the water but you stop him.

“I’m naked.” you blurt out frankly.

Tonowari’s eyes zone in on your form. He already knows that. But hearing you say it makes his chest hurt and his ears hot, “Oh..”

Be respectful Tonowari, look away, be calm.

“There’s a fee to join me,” you muse, “You have to be too.”

You’re the death of him. He swears it as he tensely removes his gear, the lioncloth being the last piece he drops aside.

His eyes are back on you as yours is on him as he walks into the water and swim to you. He didn’t mean to get so close, your skin brushing against his, but he’s not complaining when you complete close the space.

— TSU’TEY

Tsu’tey is a respectable, responsible man. He doesn’t do foolish things. He had a reputation to uphold.

Yet somehow you convince him time and time again to let loose, have some fun moments and risky decisions.

Somehow, someway, your reason have reached the ears of him and he’s agreeing again to one of your ridiculous ideas.

Skinny dipping? What even if that? Must be something JakeSully told you.

“You hang around JakeSully too much.” he’ll tell you in between listening to you explain how you came to know it. You roll your eyes, getting to the good part on what it actually was.

His mouth is agape, ears perked up in attention. That’s what Skinny dipping was? And you wanted to try it with him out of any other man in the village? Perhaps he should be thanking JakeSully for giving you this information. He doesn’t.

Instead, he follows you to a deep river, watch as you peel back all your clothing and step into the water.

You look so stunning, literally take his breath away. And when you look back at him so mischievously, telling him to hurry up and join—there was no hesitation found as he removed his clothing and met you in the middle of the river.

— NETEYAM

What started out just fishing in silence beside one another, as one does around their secret crushes, turns into a little challenge of who can catch fish the best using their technique. The loser gets to do whatever the winner wants.

Neteyam was confident, thinking this might be his chance to prove himself a worthy mate and confess all at the same time.

He loses though. He wasn’t focused. He couldn’t focus, not with all your teasing jabs, infectious laughter and star stealing smile.

He’s not mad, though, at least it was to you. There was no way you’d ask him to do something terrible—spoke to soon. Did you just dare him to skinny dip? Did he hear that right?

“Are you scared, ‘yam?” you taunt him over your shoulder as you walk future away, somewhere secluded in case he does decide to do it.

Unsurprisingly, he’s following you like a moth to flame, eyes trained on your figure when you disappear behind some foliage. With his heart beating loudly against his chest in both nerves and curiosity, he hurries after you and sigh in relief when your still there, but close to a body of water he’s never seen before.

You know you dared him. But only because it’s something you’ve been wanting to do for a while. The water looked so tempting, if he didn’t go through with it, you just might.

Looking over your shoulder at him, you lock eyes, “I know I dared you but I kinda feel like going for a dip too.” you admit, turning back around to slowly strip out of your clothing.

You assume Neteyam is just standing there like a lost boy when your final article of clothing falls but is surprised to see an outstretched hand in your peripheral view.

“You’re gorgeous.” he admits bashfully when you touch his hand, face hidden behind a few strands of falling braids, “Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask, confused as you stare at him, only to be the flustered one now.

“For trusting me.”

How does he always make something so wholesome???

— LO’AK

Lo’ak wasn’t sneaky. He couldn’t get away with anything if he tried. So you immediately knew he had a crush on you, it was so painfully obvious. And it was painfully cute.

You were just hanging out one day, a little time after the eclipse has started. Simply talking about anything under the pandora sky when a specific topic was brought up: dares you did or declined.

One dare was how you declined to skinny dip because you were way too nervous at the time but regret it because it sounded so thrilling now that your older.

Bro doesn’t miss a beat. Lo’ak is asking if you wanted to Skinny dip right now. There was no one around—he knew a place, you trust him enough. Why not?

He’s right. What’s stopping you at this point? Not a damn thing.

At first, his intentions were entirely pure. It sounded fun. He’s never done it before, it’ll be cool to do it together. One of the many first with you if he actually confesses.

Then your clothes start to come off, leaving you more exposed than he dared to dream. The water glistening your skin, white freckles glowing in the dark. Damn you were beautiful—

“Thank you.” you smile, watching him as he watches you. He hasn’t even taken off his clothes yet, so lost in everything that is you. The shock on his face was hilarious when he realizes his mistake.

With his face flushed purple, he quickly averts his eyes, “I said that out loud?” He murmurs, mainly to himself in confusion but you heard him loud and clear. It was just you two, after all.

“You did,” you turn away, walking deeper into water, “I think you’re beautiful too. Even with all your clothes still on.” you tell him teasingly, laughing to yourself when you hear splashing water behind you.

He will not fumble this!

— KIRI

Your brother called her a freak but you thought of being the most interesting person to come to this village.

She was different in every way—she looks different from the rest of her family just by little, she acts different when nature is involved, and she sounds different every time you hear her speak.

She changed the way you think, the way you see your world. Does she know that you want her in it?

You weren’t sure and it was all you could think about when you walk with her through the trees, just enjoying what Eywa has blessed you with when you come across a body of water.

Watching as she goes near it, you were going to suggest going back, but then she accident fell in. When she resurface, your shocked to find her chest bare, her too somewhere in the water.

Kiri quickly covers herself, cheeks turning blue out of embarrassment, and though it was cute and she looks attractive right now, you felt bad.

Before you mind can tell you how bad an idea this was, you removed your top, smiling at her, “There’s no reason to feel embarrassed,” you tell her, slipping into the water beside her, “We’re both woman.”

She hesitates, eventually dropping her arms and look away, trying to distract herself with something else.

You shouldn’t watch her as intensely as you did but she was beautiful, you wonder if she knew that, “I think you’re very beautiful…Kiri.”

She looks back at you, smiling shyly as she lowers her eyes too, “I think you’re beautiful too…” she returns softly.

Nope. She was too cute. Before she saw it coming, your tackling her in the water, screeching how adorable she is.

— AO’NONG

Both of you were still young adults, and not looking to court anyone yet but at the same time—there was this interesting dynamic of teasing, heartfelt moments and occasionally sexual tension.

You not being one to talk about your feelings, are quite a trouble maker. Anything under the watchful eyes of Ewya was fair game to help you avoid it.

Ao’nong just happened to be around after one stressful day; just lucky enough to tag along when you venture further from the village.

“Where are we going?” he ask, watching your back flex as you move, occasionally shifting to the surrounding area to keep watch.

“You didn’t have to come.” you snap, peeking over your shoulder with a glare. Ao’nung simply shrug his shoulders, a small smile etching his face and remains silent.

He was confused why you’d stop at a body of water so far from the village when it was surrounded by it. He was going to question your motive again, but then you start taking your clothes off and his breath away.

It was too late to look away. He saw everything before you walk into the water, leaving him standing there unsure of what to do for once in his life.

You notice this, of course, smirking at him from the water. It’s a rare sight to see Ao’nung flushed. What kind of idiot would you be not to exploit it.

“Ma Ao’nung. What’s the matter? Something caught your tongue?” you’ll tease him, leaning back in the water to swim backwards, giving him an eyeful of your chest.

Ao’nung’s brows are furrowed at your teasing, trying to come up with something—anything—to say but finds nothing but a dry mouth.

You’re giggling, swimming back over to him because you felt bad. With a beaming smile, you reach out to him, full body on display, “Sorry. Come swim with me.”

He did a lot more than just swim with you after he got over the shock. You don’t get to just tease him so causally.

— TSIREYA

Two friends skinny dipping, nothing wrong with that.

Expect there was cause you were totally crushing hard on Tsireya. And maybe she felt the same, it was kinda hard to tell with her.

You don’t know why you brought it up—maybe because you knew her tail would cutely flicker in excitement yet her words the polar opposite.

For someone who was afraid of what ifs, she sure crumbled pretty easy after a little persuasion.

When you get to a secluded area you came across one day, she’s having doubt again. You don’t try to change her mind this time, already filled with adrenaline at the thought and just strip your clothes.

Now she can’t exactly leave you by yourself, or so she claims, and that it might be more comfortable for you, not her, to be naked too.

“You are trouble, (Name).” Tsireya giggles, wading through the water to reach you. The depth gets deeper as she does, that now the only way was to swim.

Smirking, you reach out to her, holding her arm close to your chest, “It’s so exciting right?” you ask curtly before adding, “but there is absolutely no chance of getting caught!” when you catch her pointed look.

“So we’re here alone, by ourselves?” Tsireya ask the fifth time that night, surveying for good measures.

Rolling your eyes, “For the last time. No one is coming!” Honestly she’s lucky she’s cute with her doubtful ass.

She’s looking back at you with a cheeky grin, “Good.” and tackles you into the water.

Safe to say, you now knew she really liked you by the end of the night.

— ROTXO

You woke baby out of his sleep.

It was a stir of the moment type of adventure and if you didn’t do it now, who knows when you will.

He was confused at first, not understanding what you were coming off about when you lead him further from the mauri’s.

Given if this was anyone else, he’d be agitated, rejecting whatever it was at first sight. But it was you, he’ll follow you through storms if the choice was an option.

It’s only when you let go of his hand, running to a body of water and stripping out of your clothes did everything start become clearer.

Man was alert, standing stiff where you left him. Glancing around to make sure no one was around for your sake and his, if you know what I mean.

“Rotxo, what are you doing just standing there,” your laughing at him from the sea, “Did you forget already!?”

No, he doesn’t even remember you getting naked in front of him being a possibility outside of his thoughts. He would remember if something said lead to this. Yet it has as you continue to claim.

“Don’t leave me by myself!” you whine, splashing water in his direction.

Like he would ever dare. The guy was crushing hard, spending any second with you—near you is what he dreams. Literally anytime with you was a blissful moment.

Saying those words cause him to pause. It was clear that you want him, well, want him there next to you. And he could never say no to you.

He’s awkward as he strips out his gear and loincloth, definitely the most embarrassed out of all of them.

He’s quick to enter the water, hoping it would cool him down but his temperature only rises when you swim closer, practically chest to chest with him.

“I feel much better now that your here. Don’t you?” you tease, peering up at him as you place a gentle hand to his shoulder.

“Yeah.” he replies breathlessly, unable to look away from your face, in fear that he might drown himself.

You drag your arm down his arm sensually, “It’s okay to look, Ro…”

It was embarrassing having you have to hold him up, for more reason than one but the main being because he really did almost drown that night.

#✰ 𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐢𝐞 — 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 #✮⋆˙ 𝐈’𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 — 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫 #atwow x you #atwow fanfiction #avatar imagine #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water imagines #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan x reader #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung imagines

279 notes · View notes

bones4thecats · 5 months

Text

What If They Had A Family? - Hazbin Hotel (PT.2)

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: What If They Had A Family? (PT.2) Characters: Alastor (LINK), Adam, St. Peter, and Lucifer Morningstar Idea-Giver: Random Ideas

A/N: The readers here are all female besides in Alastor's, which I themed gender-neutral. You can tell who my favorite here is lol

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Swearing and Death ⚠️ Spoilers for: S1 ⚠️

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Link to Alastor Post:

What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

Angel-Third-Wife! Reader ; Red-and-Green Macaw

🎸 Adam has lost his first two wives to the same exact man. I mean for crying out loud, this guy needs a break

🎸 When Adam had first met you, he was very weary at first. Every single other wife of his had run off with the same god-forsaken guy, so do you really blame him for his distrust?

🎸 It took a little while, but the first man did take notice at how you gave him the time to get used to you and trust you, and while you didn’t know it, he warmed up to you really fast when you had cleaned his guitar off and handed it to him while requesting a song

" Let me guess, you want one of the best fuckin’ musicians in history to sing for ya’? You’ve got good taste, love. "

🎸 He absolutely adores you, and when you had finally sealed the deal, he loved talking about having children. He did have two, but they didn’t exactly end well…

🎸 You just smiled and spoke with him deeply, making sure he understood what he really wanted, you didn’t want him regretting his actions or getting in over his head when you did eventually get pregnant

🎸 When your baby girl, which you named Harmonia, came into Heaven, Adam was beyond happy. He planned on spoiling your child until his final breath

🎸 She had caught yours and his wing patterns, so they were large much like her fathers and were blue with Adam’s signature light yellow stripe. And he would swear every time she flapped her wings, she would give him another heart attack. His baby girl was growing up so fast!

🎸 Now, to the real juicy stuff

🎸 Adam is very provocative, so there is no doubt that one of your daughter’s first words is a swear, most likely the f-word

" You mother- " " Fucker! " " That's my girl! I’m so proud of you! " " Adam! " " What? She spoke! Swearing or not, still a word, toots. "

🎸 You’re gonna get a headache from their actions. Thank god Lute is right alongside you whenever Adam brings his baby to work with the excuse that he’d miss her

Angel! Reader ; Bombus Auricomus (Kind of Bumblebee)

📑 St. Peter and you had a mutual understanding, children was something you wanted to handle later on

📑 When you did eventually bring the conversation back up, St. Peter just smiled and held your hands in his as he said he had a surprise for you that he thought you’d enjoy

📑 As he covered you eye with a bandanna, your husband brought you down your home’s hallway and opened and door before you heard his wings flap nervously and he tore the fabric away from your eyes

📑 Your eyes widened as you looked at the small nursery, it was colored a pastel yellow with tiny pastel flowers along the bottom and tiny things of honeycomb with bees flying around. And right above the crib was a tiny cot mobile themed with books and bees

" Oh my god… it’s- it’s perfect, my dear. Thank you so much… "

📑 When you and St. Peter talked a bit more on the topic, you guys did eventually conceive a baby, one that you would later identify as your baby boy

📑 Your time in childbirth was magical for St. Peter, as he was nervously pacing and screaming as you practically squashed his hand in your grip. How were you not a warrior angel?!

📑 He no doubt passed out during the ordeal

📑 He had awoken in the chair next to your bed with a glass of water and a couple pills next to the glass. But he ignored it and looked over at you, who was asleep and holding your baby boy

📑 When you awoke, St. Peter pledged the name Favus, which in Latin meant Honeycomb. And when you looked at your son’s tiny light yellow bee wings, you smiled and kissed your husband’s cheek, saying it was perfect

📑 Your husband and son bond so much as he ages. While St. Peter is normally busy with things at Heaven’s Gates, he always takes time to be around his family

📑 He adores to teach your son how to sing. Singing is something that he is spectacular at, so he would love it if his son bonded with him on that

📑 And when his first word came out? No doubt he passed out once more

" D- Dada! " " Did you just- holy saints… you just said… " *faints* " Peter! "

Fallen-Angel! Reader ; Bee Hummingbird

🍎 Lucifer is slightly hesitant when it comes to having any more children. He didn’t want to have a bad relationship with them like how he used to with Charlie, even though it was far better now

🍎 While you were understanding at first, you were growing self-conscious, did he just not want kids with you?

🍎 Once Charlie brought the topic up to her father, the King of Hell just broke down, he was ruining another relationship?! You surely wanted to leave him just like Lilith did all those years ago…

🍎 Charlie just sighed and gave her dad a piece of paper, one with many ideas that could possible help him. But he only looked for a couple seconds before getting the best idea he’s ever had, besides fixing his bond with Charlie and being with you, of course

🍎 Lucifer had brought you out to a small and untouched field just outside of Pentagram City and handed you a bouquet full of bleeding heart flowers, cardinal flowers, fireweed, and trumpet honeysuckles

" My Queen, I just wanted to come somewhere secluded to speak about the possibilities of a family between us. I really want us to move onto the next chapter of our lives, and I’m sure that Charlie would like for us to as well. " " Really? " " Of course. I love you more than anything else in existence, both mine in Heaven and in Hell. There is nobody else I would do this with than you. " " And Lilith. " " I'm going to ignore that comment… "

🍎 Charlie and the rest of the Hotel were beyond happy for you guys when it was announced you were having your first born son, hell, even Alastor hugged you and handed you a small deer leather slippers, he even made sure they were extra soft for you

🍎 Lucifer just hugged you from behind as Charlie pulled everyone into a group hug, crying about how happy she was to have a baby brother coming into Hell, and she said she couldn’t wait to see how adorable he looked

🍎 When your son did finally come out and looked into his father and mother’s eyes, you guys knew how right Charlie was. He was beyond cute

🍎 His tiny yellow and red eyes, red cheeks, and yellow-tinted ‘hair’ that he inherited from his father while tiny fluttering wings, a slightly long tail similar to the Goetia family’s, and a small beak with feathers for hair that came from you just made him so sweet looking, as if he belonged in Heaven with the rest of the Morningstar family

" What should we name him, Lu’? " " Hm, how about Anaticula? It means duckling in Latin. " " Perfect… our little humming-duckling. "

🍎 As Anaticula aged, it was apparent how much like his father he was. He was very silly and talented despite his immense power from his fallen-angel parents

🍎 By the way, his first words are most likely something related to redemption or ducks, since Charlie and Lucifer ramble about the two topic quite often

" It’s just, the redemption was proven to work with Pentious. That means Heaven may rethink their choice! " " Redeemed ducky? " " Did he just…? " " My baby boy just said his first words! Oh, how splendid. Charlie! Call Y/N, she must hear this immediately! "

🍎 He loves to brag about his son in front of Alastor as well, he may now have a baby and new wife to care for at home, but your husband just has to rub this into that Radio Demon’s snout!

137 notes · View notes