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#rarity loves repeater
starkeyisthelastname · 3 months
Note
can you plzzzz write more pornstar!rafe i love him !!
pornstar!rafe is a different breed of dirty 😿
Pornstar!Rafe who had no idea what he was doing at the door of your apartment a few weeks after the scene you had shot together. He had fucked a lot of women, on and off camera. Never did he once go back for seconds, he just wasn’t that type of man. Maybe it was perverted of him to pay your agent to give him your address, but nonetheless it worked for him as he knew it would. He kept thinking about you, and he didn’t know why. Sure he fucked a lot of pretty girls, but something about you made him want more.
You looked up in surprise when you heard a late-night knock on the door, wondering who could be visiting at such an hour. Due to your line of work, you didn't have many friends or family, so unexpected visitors were a rarity. Slowly getting up, you made your way to the door and looked out the peephole. “Rafe?” You whispered to yourself, feeling your stomach drop. How did he know where you lived? What was he doing here? It made you nervous but in such a curious way.
As you opened your door, you immediately noticed his towering figure. His piercing blue eyes met yours, drawing you in. It had slipped your mind just how imposing his height was, even when dressed casually. A baseball cap concealed his messy blonde mullet, while a simple t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans accentuated his broad physique. You saw the familiar smirk come to his face, making your pussy flutter and forget any concerns you had on why he was there in the first place.
“Keep your fuckin legs up.” Rafe spat, a head full of dirty blonde hair in between your spread thighs as he ate your pussy like a starved dirty man.
It had been all of 15 minutes and this man already had you on the brink of an orgasm by just his tongue. The way his head moved back and forth, smearing your sweet and sticky juices across his thick mustache, had you gasping while you tried to hold your legs back. Your body was becoming limp though, his pert nose rubbing against your swollen clit as his tongue rapidly licked through your soaked folds.
One hand that was hooked on the underside of your thigh, fell as your stomach tightened and eyes started rolling back. You felt two thick digits slide into your creamy hole, pushing themselves to hit your G-spot. “O-oh fuck…Rafe.” You mumbled, eyebrows squeezing together as your eyes came back to watch him.
“Greedy fuckin hole likes gettin' finger fucked, huh?” His words were dirty, only making you clench around them as he shot you that cocky smirk.
You nodded, mouth falling open as he drilled them in and out of your leaking cunt with brutal force. You wondered if he would be just as nasty off camera, but never thought you'd see him again unless you filmed another scene together. (At least you were hoping you two would.) He was proving to you that his porn acting was who he was as a person, and he was just as filthy as he was on camera.
That smirk faded as you refused to answer him, his blue eyes darkening into something a little more sinister. Abruptly pulling his fingers out, he shoved them inside your open mouth, pushing them deep until you gagged. His other hand came to your poor pussy, slapping it roughly as you squealed around his digits at the hard smack. It wasn't until he shoved three fingers in without warning that you realized he was not playing.
“Not a big fan of repeating myself. Yeah, slut? So I suggest you answer my fuckin question.” His voice low as he stood up to lean over you. He removed his fingers from your mouth, wrapping a hand around your throat to squeeze.
His left hand moved inside you at a rapid pace, repeatedly bruising your sweet spot as he choked a reply out of you. This man was on a whole other type of level, and you knew you couldn’t hold back any longer. “Please… k-keep fingering me. D-don’t stop. Gonna cum so hard.” Your voice strained as he applied pressure against your neck.
You could feel your eyes rolling back again, head spinning and cunt pulsing as one more push of his fingers did your climax hit. In the porn industry, you weren’t known for being a squirter. There you were though, letting a fountain of clear liquid spray both of your bodies as you completely let go.
You barely had time to recover, before you were flipped over with ease, thick cock cramming itself in your sopping cunt as he yanked your hair back. “You better fuckin start listening to me. I don’t ever fuck a girl twice, even on camera. Feel lucky I wanna make you my own personal whore.” He rasped in your ear, the butterflies hitting your tummy at the thought of having this deranged man in your guts over and over again.
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gild-ui · 3 months
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"All right, love?"
"Simon, the fuck is this?"
"Wanted a pet, yeah?"
"A pet, yeah. This?" A pathetic thing. A bundle of fur covered in dirt and grime and stunk up the flat worse than the dead mouse from a month ago. "This is no bloody pet!"
He'd come home from a deployment with a shit-eating grin across his unmasked face — a rarity, truly — his away bag slung over one of his broad (lovely) shoulders, and a bundle of something wrapped up in an old shirt in his arms.
You should have known better. Should have known because when the pile yowled a sound akin to an eldritch horror and Simon had the audacity to laugh—a deep, low sound that would have you on your knees if it weren't at your expense— you nearly socked the man in the face.
It uncurled itself from the sopping ball that Simon had lain across the floor between your socked feet and Simon's steel-toe boots. Shiny boots too, aye? He could keep his boots clean yet couldn't remember to rinse the sink of his little pokey blonde hairs after a shave?!
God, it was insufferable. Man disappears for weeks to months, then reappears like nothing just happened? No 'hi' or 'hello' or 'how are you?'—
The thing yowls again, sending you skyrocketing across your living room to use the sofa as a buffer between you and the thing whilst Simon's antagonizing laugh rings through.
You're gonna kill him, you determine.
"When I said a bloody pet, Simon," your voice is biting, reminding the bloke in front of you of all times his mother had whelped at him for his own little spin on directions. "I meant a dog, or- or- a cat. Fucking 'ell, a fish would do!"
"What's wrong with it?" Simon deadpans with a raised eyebrow, those dark brown eyes filled with mirth as one of his booted foot slides the few inches in front of him and prods at the bundle of wet material and fur. The action causes another horror-like screech to erupt from it and the situation repeats itself once more.
Though, this time, you perhaps scream alongside it because the nudge from Simon's boot causes the thing to propel its tiny body forward, spearing towards the couch.
And unfortunately, you.
A few hours later, after multiple baths—yours unwillingly, his as payback, and the thing required at least two before your eyes stopped watering—the two of you determine that it was indeed a cat.
To which, Simon promptly named the thing “cat.” And you scowled whilst renaming it “satan.”
Congratulations on your new pet:
Cuppa Cat Satan Kentucky Bourbon the III, Destroyer of Sanities and Ankles.
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acid-ixx · 3 months
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I hope you don’t mind but I need to ramble this to someone, neglected Wayne reader right? The fam would forget to bring them to social events and whatnot right? So there would be very few pictures, articles and interviews or even facts about them, meaning that reader Wayne is a rarity. Still following me? Reader Wayne with a small but devout fanbase.
I’m talking they are trading the latest pictures and sharing links to the rare interview with reader in it, following any social media they have that isn’t private, they are just fascinated by this micro celebrity that seems to always be forgotten. Okay but also imagine one of the heroes developing a para-social attachment to reader. My money is on Conner Kent, mainly bc he can project his own issues with his dads onto reader and he can Dolores ~Encanto~ reader with his super hearing and develop a even bigger parasocial obsession with them
I hope you enjoyed this ramble, I will leave you be now, see ya later alligator! 🐊
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omg another one of my asks that actually predicted a major plot point... this ask ties well with the last part written here. i'm thinking about having the reader get a love interest/s but i have already written an outline but one thing is for sure—
you have more than just your family interested in taking you.
major spoilers below the cut. — an excerpt from chapter xx
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(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.
you are a product of a one-night-stand.
but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.
your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.
you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.
it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.
the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.
after all, your freedom is your doom.
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maybe this is out of the picture, but id' like to imagine you and connor having a therapy session where one comes out absolutely obsessed with the other, and it's not you.
connor's character for me is so, so good for an angst potential. it's like his personal struggles is a way for him to show you how absolutely you two are meant to be. and he may have met you through bumping into you (false) or maybe... he has seen you stalking through the shadows back when he visits the manor. using his superhearing, he can hear your voice from the kitchen begging alfred to relay a message to bruce, sounding so absolutely desperate. it's the way you tell alfred how you wished your father actually spends time with you, or how nobody seems to notice you— that he kind of just makes a silent promise that he will talk to you soon, he needs to know why this family seems so keen on ignoring and how hypocritical tim is for literally doing the same thing to you when he's aware of kon's past.
if he (or anyone else) should be a love interest (though he is a minor character in the series unless you guys want him to be a major one), i can already imagine the absolute hell you have to suffer not only from your family but from your own lover. just imagine the stockholm syndrome or the delusions you convince yourself with because you're finally loved by someone but that love restricts you from the very freedom you tried to build.
the batfamily would be so conflicted because why are you choosing some stranger over them...? then you slap them in the face with, "well, this "stranger" wants to kidnap me and lock me up, sure! but at least they actually looked at me for more than five seconds!" and you can watch how the color drains off their face, their conflict giving you the perfect opportunity to run away from both your ex-family and your soon-to-be-kidnapper-lover who thinks your comeback is a funny way for you to propose.
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eddiesxangel · 1 month
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Could this be Fate? | Alpha!Eddie x Omega!Reader
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CW: omegaverse, alpha!eddie, omega!reader, f!reader, strangers to lovers, typical omegaverse lore, mention of assault but nothing specific (not on reader), breeding, mention of suppressants, biting, oral (f), p in v.
4.1K words
S/o to @lesservillain and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me with this one 🥺💜
As Eddie leisurely wandered through the grocery store, his mind drifting through thoughts of daily tasks and work deadlines, he was suddenly stopped by an alluring fragrance. The mouth-watering scent of warm cinnamon, rich coffee, and a hint of maple filled the air, wrapping around him like a cozy embrace and awakening a deep longing. Despite the rarity of fated mates, Eddie's heart fluttered with new hope as he was irresistibly drawn toward the captivating aroma, igniting an unspoken quest within him to find its source.
At first, he thought it came from the bakery, but the closer he got, the more elusive the scent became. So, he followed the irresistible aroma, realizing he had never smelled anything so strongly.
The scent was like joy etched into his brain – the sweet essence of serotonin intertwining with his other senses. He finally understood what love was, and it called to him.
Eddie hurried ahead as the scent intensified, and there you stood, eying different cheeses. With your hair draped over your shoulder, you compared Brie and Camembert, deep in deliberation. You were oblivious to the alpha staring at you, mouth open in awe, until you inhaled deeply to make your choice, only to catch an unexpected aroma of leather and coffee.
You snapped your head up, forgetting about the cheese, overwhelmed by the aroma that invaded your space. You tucked your hair behind your ear to get a better view, and that's when you noticed him. He was strikingly handsome with rough edges. All hair, tattoos, and leather, yet there was an endearing look in his big, beautiful brown eyes that let you know he is kind.
Eddie's heart skipped a beat as your eyes met his. The colour of your eyes was unlike anything he had ever seen – a mesmerizing blend of rich hues that captured his attention, yet bright enough that he thought he saw stars.
"Hi," Eddie sighed, already lovestruck. His dorky smile was so endearing you couldn’t help but smile back at the stranger. 
“Hi,” it came out almost as a whisper. Your heart was racing, and your stomach did a flipflop. 
You have never felt like this before… like you needed to claim this man standing beside you… like you needed to mark him, to make him belong to you and you to him… yet you don’t even know his name.
“Hi,” he breathes again, not knowing what to say, making you giggle. 
“What would you pick?” You ask him, not wanting him to leave. 
“What?” He snaps out of his aroma high you put him in. 
“Brie or Camembert, what would you pick?” 
“You,” he says without a beat.
“Very smooth,” you try to hide your bashful smile as the blood rushed to your face so fast you swore you could hear it pumping through your skin. 
“I’m Edward… but you can call me Eddie.” He clears his throat. “Edward, but Eddie,” he stumbles his words and sticks out a tattooed hand. 
You take it, feeling sparks as your skin connects, and you both know it but are too scared to admit it. This was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.
You tell him your name, and he repeats it softly to commit it to memory. 
“You wanna shop around with me?” He scratches his head, not too sure what he is even saying. 
“Um,” you pause to think about it. “Yeah, I would.” You smile, and the breath Eddie was holding finally lets out. 
Spending time with Eddie was the best part of your day. Things had been rough for you, especially since you were running late to prepare for a get-together with friends Robin and Nancy. The stress about the charcuterie board and wine now seemed foolish; but seeing Eddie made all those worries vanish. You both share a magnetic connection, almost as if you're destined to be together.
Neither of you has voiced the idea of being fated mates, as that seems absurd and extremely rare. It's impossible to think he's your perfect match. Yet, as you continued through the grocery store, you both realized this was something different. Surprisingly, instead of feeling nervous around an alpha, you felt safer.
You have never met anyone who found their fated mate. You learned about them in health class, where you were told that you should recognize them by scent, attraction, and connection. However, they are so rare that statistics indicate only one in ten million people find their mate. Therefore, it seems impossible for this to happen to you.
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When the girls came over, you couldn’t wait to tell them about the man you met today. 
“You always hear about ‘when you know you know,’ but this felt like I knew.” You babble. “It’s like I was seeing colour for the first time? But of course, I know what colours are, but it’s like… I don’t know….I sound crazy.” You shake your head.
“No, keep going!” Nancy encouraged. Her bright smile so genuine you couldn’t say no to her.
You take a long sip of your wine, “Do you guys believe in fated mates?” 
“I think they are real.” Robin nods.
“I think so too. There is no way all the stories can't have some truth behind them,” Nancy offered her thoughts, as she always did with such intelligence.
Based on what you described, they were utterly convinced he was your soulmate. The endless questions began—they wanted to hear every tiny, intimate detail, especially since they had never known anyone who experienced such a connection, let alone their closest friend. You vividly recounted how you felt an overwhelming urge for him to tear your clothes off and claim you right there in the dairy aisle. Yet, he was the epitome of a gentleman; he walked you to your car, pushed your cart for you, and meticulously loaded your bags into the trunk. If you had been a bus rider, you were certain he would have offered you a lift without hesitation. His disappointment was palpable when it came time for your goodbyes. This inexplicable connection lingered, though you waved off their comments, chalking it up to a whimsical notion of a hopeless romantic.
Just like he knew you were gushing about him, he calls while the girls are over. Thankfully, he had asked for your number in the parking lot before you had driven off. If he hadn’t, you would have asked for his; there was no way you weren’t seeing this guy again. You both lingered, not sure how to feel. You were both nervous, but he also made you feel safe, not something you were used to with an alpha. 
You had to quell Nancy and Robin’s excitement while they eavesdrop in on the conversation.
Eddie had asked you out for coffee, keeping it light and casual, instead of inviting you to his place. He was considerate of your need to be in a public space for safety. He didn’t have much money to spend on you, and coffee was easy and relaxed; he didn’t want to come off too strong; he had just finished high school a year ago and didn’t want to scare you away. The only thing he wanted was to keep you. He was aware of what some other alphas had done, often covered in the news—taking whomever they wanted, whenever they wanted, believing they were entitled just for existing. They acted like gods... but not Eddie. Eddie wanted to protect his omega and ensure you were never stressed. He felt a deep, primal urge to keep you safe.
Eddie didn’t fit into society’s archetypes about what alphas should be and look like, so when he started changing, he didn’t believe he was one until his first rut… that sure was something he didn’t expect. 
Sure, Eddie was different, but he was still an alpha; he wanted to claim, mark, and breed you. He pushed away x-rated thoughts of the two going at it in the grocery store parking lot. He knew it was too soon; only a crazy person would have the urge to want to mark a total stranger… to want to make them theirs…. to have them feel safe, and stop at nothing to do so.
You have been on Eddie’s mind every second since he met you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you soothed his soul, how he couldn’t even think straight.
So coffee on Tuesday afternoon seemed like a safe bet; thankfully, both of your schedule’s allowed it.
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By the time it hit two o'clock, you were buzzing with excitement. Eddie was due any moment, and you couldn't stop fussing over your outfit. Did you seem too eager? Was your hair too big? Too much makeup? Or not enough? Your mind was a whirlwind of questions until the door speaker announced his arrival.
You took a deep breath and opened the door. Eddie was on the other side, and all your worries floated away when you saw him with a bouquet. No one had ever gotten you flowers before… 
When Eddie came to pick you up, you initially didn’t have the heart to tell him that this coffee shop was your place of work, but all of that went by the wayside when Steve, your manager and another Alpha greeted you. 
“So, what brings you in on your day off? Can’t get enough of me?” Steve smirked at you, and Eddie had to swallow the burning jealousy that was bubbling to the surface. “I’m on a date.” You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. 
“Well, it’s about time someone snatched you up.” Steve winked at Eddie, and he could be strangling him right then and there. Eddie didn’t want to feel this way, but his alpha was taking over. He didn't appreciate the wink.
Eddie paid for your drinks and insisted you get a snack, so you picked your favourite muffin. Steve gave him the employee discount without his knowledge, but you said nothing. You wanted this to go well. 
Steve seemed like a good guy, but Eddie wasn’t a fan of your working so closely with another alpha. He had doubts; he hated how he smiled at you and how Steve could make you giggle. Eddie tried to push down the thought of the two of you working alone. 
You suggested you sit outside on the patio, away from prying ears.
“Are you sure this is okay? If I had known, I would have taken you somewhere else, like ice cream or something...” His leg bounced, and you could see how he was in his head. He felt like an idiot for thinking this would be an excellent first-date spot. 
You had sat across from him, but you scooted your chair closer and rested your hand on his knee. 
“I’m okay, Eddie. I promise. I’m happy to be with you. I don’t care about the setting… we have the best coffee anyway.” You giggle. 
Eddie melted at your touch; everything about you calmed him but riled him up. 
As first dates go, this had been the best one you’ve ever been on. You delved into each other's worlds; the conversation flowed effortlessly, and you can’t recall the last time you laughed so heartily. Eddie was loud, theatrical, and boisterous, and you relished every moment. 
He loved how attentively you listened to him and didn’t make him feel embarrassed about his nerdy interests. He was astonished by your genuine curiosity and the warmth with which you sought to understand him. 
Your heart raced when Eddie walked you to your door, only to kiss your lips tenderly. You had longed to kiss him throughout the entire evening, often holding yourself back from leaning in, but now that the date had concluded, you didn’t want him to leave. 
This kiss was unlike any other, a swirling kaleidoscope of colours flashing behind your closed eyelids as your mouths moved in perfect harmony. Eddie’s strong hands held you firmly by the waist, grounding you in this extraordinary moment. 
Eddie wanted to roam his hands along your entire body badly, but he squeezed your hips instead to keep them in place. Your body reacted to the pressure of his fingertips, and you pressed your body further into his, and he slipped his tongue inside of your mouth. 
Groping at one another like a bunch of horny teenagers, you both didn't stop until your neighbour's door unlatched, starting you both.
“Do you want to come inside?” 
“I do, but if I come in, I’m going to want to take things further… and you deserve more than a hook-up on the first date.” 
“But what if I wanted to?” You look up at him with those mesmerizing eyes, and he fights with himself in his mind.
“You’re killing me here,” he chuckles, and you slip your hands around his waist, proceeding to kiss his neck. 
“Shit, no, no. God, I’m such an idiot. Fuck. Please. I wanna treat you right.” 
“Okay,” you sigh, disappointed but not offended. 
“I’ll call you,” Eddie promised before giving you one more needy kiss, then reluctantly pulling away.
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You and Eddie have been seeing one another for a few weeks now and still have yet to move past making out in the hallway of your apartment. 
The more time spent apart, the more anxious you have become. Your omega yearned for Eddie. You wanted him so badly you had the crazy idea to stop taking your suppressants. You stopped taking them becuse you wish for Eddie to breed you- but the stopping of your suppressant only made your hormones go haywire, and your heat came on much more quickly than the doctor had said it would.
You had failed to mention the amount of time you had been spending one-on-one with an alpha and the way you reacted to him in the process. Your body felt like it was on fire, you had been sweating all day, you were sent home early from your shift because it was clear to Steve what had been happening and there was no way he would be around for that. 
You got home, and your nest didn’t feel right. You piled the shirts and pants that you had seen Eddie in, the faint smell of him lingering, but it wasn‘t enough. This was the first time you experienced heat since your first one a few years ago. You didn’t want to go through it again without an alpha with you, but you hadn’t even had a chance to talk about it with Eddie. Your decision was rash, and you became nervous to bring it up. You wanted to sleep with him so much that your omega acted for you, dumping out the pill bottle down the toilet so you didn’t change your mind. 
The cramps set on pretty quickly after you got home. The pain was so great that you almost passed out. You lay in your bed for hours, unable even to pick up the phone for anyone.
Eddie was getting increasingly worried. He had anticipated your call to confirm you got home safely, but over an hour had passed without a word. Perhaps you were asked to stay late? He had called your place around six times. Yes, it was excessive, but he couldn’t wait anxiously for you to call back. His concern overwhelmed him, prompting him to go to your workplace, hoping to find you safe.
He reluctantly asked Steve where you were, and when Steve told him, he sent you home because you were not feeling well. That’s when the alarms sounded off in Eddie’s head. His alpha entirely took over his actions, not even saying thank you or goodbye to Steve; he raced out of the coffee shop, back in his van, and towards your apartment. The closer he got to your door the more he could sense something was wrong. The smell was off, you weren’t happy, he could smell the stress emanating out from under the door.
You think you can hear a pounding at the door, but maybe that was just a part of your fever dream? You were burning up; your body was in so much pain from your heat that you could hardly keep your eyes open. Nothing felt right; you were so stressed you could hardly think straight, and the nest was so utterly wrong you hated it, but you had no choice.
You can hear more pounding and maybe you heard your name being called. You for sure hear a loud slam and an overwhelming aroma of leather and coffee but mixed with stress and anxiety.
A whimper escapes you when the smell strengthens and the noises become more audible. Your name was called repeatedly, but you hadn’t the strength to open your eyes.
“Baby!” Eddie rushed to your side when he saw you there, naked, curled up in the fetal position, skin slick with a layer of sweat.
It finally registered that it was your alpha with you in the room.
“Need you.” You reach for him, and he’s in the nest with you within seconds.
You take a deep breath in, and he purs, hoping it will soothe you as he holds your body against his.
“Baby, talk to me,” he coos.
“Hurts so bad,” You cry.
“Tell me what to do.”
“Need you”
“I’m here, baby.”
“No, I need you.” Your hand grazes his crotch, and Eddie understands now. You must be going into heat, but you told him you were on suppresents?
The two of you never spoke about taking things to the next step, not that Eddie didn’t want to. Trust, he wanted to, but he didn’t think you were ready.
“Baby, are-are you sure?”
“Please, I need you so badly, alpha.”
Hearing you utter those words triggered something in Eddie so primal that he produced a growl so low he startled himself.
Not taking any more time to mull it over, Eddie gently lets you go and slips between your legs. He sees your swollen clit, your slick drip from you; it’s soaked through your sheets, and the smell of it makes his eyes roll back into his skull before he dove in.
Out of all the times you’ve dreamt about Eddie between your legs for the first time, this was never the scenario.
A small whimper of relief left your lips as your Eddie’s mouth made contact with your mound. The soft hairs tickled Eddie’s nose as he explored your slick-coated folds, revelling in your taste. It was like nothing he had ever tasted; he wanted more and more; he was greedy -he primal.
The way his tongue slopes along your folds and up into your pussy was so good; you hate to think how he learned to please a pussy so well.
Your body was on overdrive, so sensitive that every touch was like you were on fire. His mouth felt so good on your lower lips; the familiar feeling of your orgasm came crashing through you so quickly.
“That’s it, that’s my girl, fuck you’re doing so well, sweet omega.” He massaged your clit as he talked you through your orgasm.
“Eddie.” Your hands grip his roots. He feels so good underneath you, but the pain is still there. It wouldn’t go away until he was fully inside.
“More, Eddie, please; I want your knot.”
Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. His pants and boxers were off as soon as you finished telling him what you needed.
His cock was at attention, and your mouth watered at the sight of it.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Your alpha has you.”
“Hurts,” you cry.
Eddie is mindful; he stretches you out with his fingers first, and he knows his size is of the larger stature.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby; I got you.” He aligns himself with your throbbing pussy and slowly pushes himself inside.
“Fuck” he grits through his teeth, never has he felt something so delicious.
Your head was spinning; nothing felt real, but your senses had been so heightened that you felt everything. The sweat dripping down your back, the electric touch of eddies hands on your waist, the way his cock stretches you so wide, and how he plunges himself so deep.
“Please, please, please,” You babble.
Eddie takes that as his cue to start pumping in and out of you. His knot was rapidly growing with each thrust, and it took everything in him not to plunge himself so deep inside. He took his time fucking you, making love to you.
He knew that you were it for him; even if the rumours were not true about fated mates, that didn’t matter. You were everything to him and more.
“Harder,” you plead.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, please; I need it so bad, Eddie. Need you so bad.” You grab onto his hips and push him in deeper. The thick base of his cock stretched you so well. Your body was made to take it as he ruts up inside of you.
“fuck fuck fuck fuck” Eddie hisses. No one had ever taken his knot before, and god, was it good. Your tight dripping pussy wrapped around him as he plugged your hole.
Eddie’s cock was so deep inside you, and he kept rutting his hips up up up, hitting that delicious spot every time that your second orgasm washed through you like a tidal wave.
“shit,” Eddie couldn’t handle the way your pussy was like a vice on his cock. His seed spurting up into you and being locked in place by his knot only had your head spinning.
“Thank you. Your tears were streaming down your face, and Eddie repositioned both of you so you could sit up on his lap.
“That’s it, baby, I’ve got you. All you needed was your alpha to breed you, huh?”
“Not all,” you sniffle.
Eddie looks at you bewildered. What else could you be asking for? He cannot recall much of high school health class.
“Mark me, mate me, make me yours,” you beg.
“Wh-what? Princess, you’re not thinking straight. Its just the first few hours of your heat… we should talk about this.” He strokes your hair out of your face.
“No, please, Eddie! We are mates. Fated mates. I feel it in my bones, don’t you?” You try and hold back your tears but your heart feels so much for Eddie they come down freely.
“No baby, don’t cry. He wipes the tears away before pulling you in closer. Your naked body’s flush against one another. Your slick still trying to leak down your legs.
“I’m sorry, I love you. I want to be with you.”
You mumble into his neck, your nose graze his scent gland. You nuzzle your face into it before your teeth graze lower on his neck, daring to puncture.
“You love me?”
“Yes Eddie so much, it like I can’t breath when your not around.”
“No ones ever loved me before…”
“Oh Eddie, baby.” You kiss him like it was your last time you ever will. Your hips grind and Eddie’s cock hits that stops deep up inside you once again making you both main with pleasure.
“I love you so much, do-do it” he stutters. No way he could deny this connection any longer. You were right and he will do anything in his power to please you, to claim you, to have you, to love you.
“You sure?”
“Yes, baby, mark me. I want everyone to see who I belong to.”
You sink your teeth into the skin where his neck meets his shoulder and it’s like everything made sense. You never felt so much love, so much light and happiness. You could tell how much Eddie loved you just by the scent.
You lick at the wound and Eddie brushes your hair out of the way so he can claim you as his.
“You want my mark?”
“Please” you beg still grinding your hips trying to chase a third orgasm.
Eddie’s soft lips part against a higher point, closer to the middle of your throat and then it happens. His teeth sink into your skin and you feel a sing but then your orgasm hits you all at once. The connection between you two bound together for a lifetime. In that moment, it became undeniably clear to both of you that this was your destiny. Meeting Eddie at the grocery store was no mere coincidence; it was as if the universe had aligned to bring you together. Eddie had become your pillar of support, your perfect counterpart. This kind of serendipity doesn't come around for just anyone, and you felt incredibly fortunate to have found him.
“Holy shit”
“Wow”
You're both awestruck, soaking up the moment. Breathing in one another as Eddie’s knot shows no sign of deflating just yet.
Your heat would still be going full force for the next few days, however for now the pain has subsided.
“I love you.” Eddie whispers. “You’re the love of my life.”
“I love you Eddie” your arms wrap around his neck pulling him closer. “Now breed me.”
736 notes · View notes
hellsitedotcom · 7 days
Text
### Genshin Men & How They Kiss ###
Featuring Dainsleif, Il Dottore, Il Capitano, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Al-Haitham.
warnings: shouldn't be anything too spicy/nsfw. Dottore bites people, do with that what you want.
english isn't my native language! this is going to flop so bad, but I'm bored; bone app the teeth.
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DAINSLEIF
He is someone who - in my humble opinion - kisses you with such...devotion, such unwavering and suffocating devotion that it leaves you breathless and stunned even after the 100th kiss.
Dain has his way with words, we all know that, and as mesmerizing as his compliments and confessions can be, so are his kisses; they are like a beautiful, life-changing poem that leaves you aching for more.
He's not too frequent of a kisser, though - I want to think he's somewhat dramatic with his timing for kisses; before depatures, big battles, when you're apart from each other for longer times & greater distances.
Definitely one for goodnight kisses; he's such a gentle lover, I'd say. There's just something about him that makes it hard for me to see him as an aggressive, obsessive, or extremely passionate/intense lover (I hope you know what I mean).
You know those Princess x Knight stories? Where they finally have that first kiss, and it's described like something straight out of a fairytale? That's Dainsleif, basically. Also, definitely someone who kisses your hand/palm.
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IL DOTTORE
Oh, he's a freak, alright. My ''aroace Dottore'' headcanons aside, he's...not your ''typical'' guy, I'd say. Well, he's not a romantic, I think we can all agree on that.
Dottore's kisses are most definitely possessive - they aren't there to show love or anything, but to claim - to ''mark his territory'', sorta.
I think he'd see ''kissing'' as an outlet of sorts; I don't necessarily see the ''real'' Dottore as someone who gets frustrated and lets it out on his lover, nor would he be someone to kiss his lover unprovoked, I think. He doesn't necessarily need it.
If we were to talk about a not-so-sociopathic Dottore (alias, a normal human), he wouldn't necessarily strike me as someone who thinks about kissing you much either. He gives me a rather uninterested vibe in that regard; he probably shows his love/devotion in different ways.
Maybe I'm just really biased because of my other headcanon; he just doesn't care about kisses in a romantic sense, that's it. He'll bite you, he'll devour you, but there's nothing more behind it but exerting power...or maybe he just wants to silence you, because your provocations/teasing is getting on his last nerve.
His kisses (I honestly just see him as a biter) are bruising, and the way he holds onto you during that time leaves bruises, too. And, again, not many of these actions stem from love, but possessiveness or to ''make a statement''.
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IL CAPITANO
Initially thought was ''Does he even know what a kiss is'', but let's brush past that...anyway, why can I see him somewhere inbetween the likes of Dain & Dottore? lol
He's not much of a kisser, either. Which, uh, soldier and all, I'd say, but then, he is still capable of care and devotion in a way that others never could.
He's devoted in his kisses, and there's a pledge of loyalty behind each kiss, only solidified by their rarity. He swears fealty to you in that way - a firm, classy kiss on the lips; kissing the back of your hand while kneeling in front of you; a lasting kiss on your forehead before he departs.
Again, those kisses are rare and kept secret from the outside, but they exist and they hold such an incredible weight to themselves; they are his greatest show of vulnerability and weakness. Though, he does not view having a lover as a weakness.
As mentioned further above: His kisses are firm, they are lasting. He doesn't just give you quick pecks in passing, no. Each kiss takes its time, and each kiss is there to repeat the message the first one gave ''I swear fealty to you''. They aren't overly passionate, messy, or anything like that.
Definitely not one for many words, and their all pretty cordial and like some devoted rule-abiding knight would talk, lol. Quality Time and Acts of Service are more of his strongsuit.
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NEUVILLETTE
I'm a bit torn here, though he certainly is a gentle kisser. On one hand, I want to say it is a ''lack of experience'' in that prospect, that could make him more hesitant and careful. On the other hand, I just feel like regardless of his experience level, he'd be a gentle lover.
He's more frequent in his kisses - he does not mind showing you love, regardless of where you are, though during important meetings (or trials) you'll never find him kissing you; only afterwards, when you've returned to the privacy of his office, he'll drop that mask again.
He'll pour all his emotions into his kisses - including those tragic, painful emotions after certain trials. Yet, his kisses are never hungry or aggressive. They'll still always keep their lightness.
Most of the time, you'll find him kissing your lips or your cheeks. In your sleep, he'll press a kiss to your forehead, and in public he'll often press a kiss to the palm of your hand.
His kisses are the kind to make you giggle, or smile all giddy. They are exciting, in a way. Though rather light and ''brief'', they leave you at a loss every time; like a beautiful dream. Paired with that soft smile of his? They'll have you melting right then and there.
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WRIOTHESLEY
I just let out the most concerning ''hehehehe''; anyway, oh boy, I wanna be indulgent here, but I'll try to be as ''realistic'' as possible.
He's...a wildcard, of sorts. Wriothesley can be extremely passionate & hungry when it comes to his lover, but he can also be more classy & gentle about it, depending on different factors.
Now, focus on the more intense parts of Wriothesley. For anyone needing a visual/example; I'm sure there's fics out there where the reader is sparring with Wriothesley. And that's where I get the more intense version of him from.
He's the kind to pin you against a wall and devour your lips, tongue eventually down your throat as he got you at his mercy. He's not holding back with those kisses - he's hungry; hungry for all of you. His kisses aren't necessarily bruising, but they are suffocating; you'll be struggling for air when he is like this.
You'll find him his filled with desire only in private - and often enough there's something needed to trigger this...almost primal?...version of him; yes, this means he'll leave marks, but he'd never intentionally hurt you to get off.
On other occasions, he's more gentle, though that gentleness can sometimes stem from an absence of mind, too. Fleeting kisses on the cheek, barely sparing you a glance as he's too busy with work. His ''apology'' kisses are also the gentle, yet firmer kind. And you'll get them quite frequently, given...everything.
In conclusion, he's definitely capable of being both extremely hungry/intense and being gentle; it really depends on preference, I suppose, but I can absolutely see him being a perfect balance.
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AL-HAITHAM
Definitely more on the calmer side; not necessarily ''gentle'' in the way I have described before, but he's not an aggressive/hungry kisser, unless for certain occasions, maybe.
He's so introverted in his voicelines, he's probably the same with a lover; barely any PDA in public, just because he's not a fan of it (you'll maybe get a peck on the cheek or a kiss on the forehead, but just fleeting).
His kisses are...somewhat distant, quite often. He'll kiss you on the lips, but you'll feel like he's not really present while kissing you. He'll also take your hand and kiss it absently whenever you sit beside him while he's studying.
Other times, he's nearly obsessed with kissing you; he'll be kissing you firmly, one kiss lasting minutes before being interrupted by shorter and lighter kisses, and then he'll go back to a firm, passionate kiss. He'll often have you on his lap during those.
Slow, sensual make out sessions. That's what I was looking for, I think. Lots of cuddling, holding you close, tracing his lips over your skin. That's how I see him sometimes.
Can I actually see him be more intense in his kisses? Maybe, but it takes a lot. A lot of pent up frustration, Kaveh getting on his last nerve, some issues with the Akademiya, etc.; and perhaps, if you provoke him on that day, you'll see a more hungry side...Or maybe he just did it to satisfy you for a while, who knows?
Makes me believe that Al-Haitham does not mind being more dominant, more intense, more hungry during make out sessions - he can if it means you'll be happy about it, but he doesn't prefer it, tbh.
324 notes · View notes
huggingkoalas · 5 months
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𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | natasha romanoff
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pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!retiredavenger!reader
summary — ‧₊˚ natasha loses you three times in the worst way possible
word count — ‧₊˚ 6.6k
warning(s) — ‧₊˚ angst, no happy ending, mentions of alcohol consumption, breaking up, cursing, mentions of cheating, pet names, car accident, panic attacks, jealousy, medical rooms, amnesia, mentions of therapy
authors note — ‧₊˚ yes, this was a series. i’ve decided this multi-chapter into a oneshot instead because of how much this fic has emotionally affected me :’) this fic means a lot to me but it’s also a reminder of someone really dear to me that i lost recently. i’ve lost count of how many times i cried while writing the ending, and i’m so sorry if the ending seems rushed </3
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Natasha was always full of confidence, loyalty and fierceness. She never backed down from a fight, especially excelling in close hand-to-hand combat where her ability was intimidating. Ruthless and exceptionally efficient and skilled at her job, she struck fear into anyone who had the misfortune to cross the Black Widow’s path.
But that was at work. And at home? There was a big difference. While her enemies were always on their knees at the end of a fight, begging her for mercy to spare their lives, she was on her knees this time. Natasha Romanoff — one of the founding members of the Avengers, an agent of S.H.I.E.LD., a professional assassin and your wife — was currently on her knees, begging for your forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, moya lyubov’ (my love). Forgive me, please.” She begged, tears gathering in her eyes. 
Your shadow loomed over the kneeling redhead. Holding your breath and trying to keep your tears at bay, you pursed your lips together, not trusting yourself to speak in a steady voice.
“Please, I’ll do anything.” With trembling hands on her lap, Natasha glanced up at your face. She couldn’t control a sob breaking out from her throat as she saw the saddened expression on your face. 
“Am I… not important to you anymore?” You spoke in a quiet voice.
“I…-” With eyes filled with tears, she struggled to find the right words to explain herself. Despite her strength and confidence, Natasha looked vulnerable, almost broken, before you. 
“Where were you tonight? Drinking with Bruce and Thor again?” You asked with a shaky breath.
The answer was already clear before Natasha even spoke. There was a faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air, a reminder of her downward spiral in recent months. It pained you to witness the transformation, to see the woman you loved slipping further and further away with each passing day. She had been arriving home late consistently, often in an intoxicated state. Her presence during evenings became a rarity, and you would find yourself sleeping alone in the shared bed at night, longing for the warmth of her presence. You didn’t get to see her in the mornings, too — despite consuming a large amount of alcohol the night prior, Natasha would, without fail, rise early for work the next day before you woke up.
Two months. Two months of Natasha repeating the same apologies. Two months of you backing down every single time and forgiving her when you saw her vulnerable expression. The redhead was truly your weakness, your Achilles heel. Even after she would pour her heart out to you, the same phrases ‘I promise I won’t drink again’ and ‘this is the last time, I swear’, she’d just return to the bar the next day, drinking to her heart’s content. It was as if she’d forgotten her promises to change. As if she had no remorse for her actions, or care for your feelings.
You missed snuggling up beside her after a long day, your head in the crook of her neck as you smelled the familiar vanilla shampoo in her hair. You missed the feeling of her heartbeat against your chest and the softness of her breath against your skin. These days, the smell of alcohol replaced the comforting and soothing scent you were used to. 
While Natasha’s current vulnerability displayed her remorse and pain you’d never seen before, you wanted another kind of vulnerability — one where she was there for you and prioritised you first. You longed for her comfort, her reassurance as she held you close and whispered words of love in your ear. 
With an exhausted sigh, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of even more disappointment at the sight of the two untouched plates of home-cooked beef stroganoff on the dining table. The tantalising aroma of the beef stroganoff now made you nauseous. It bitterly reminded and mocked you of your meticulous efforts to please your wife. The once-warm meal lay cold since you plated them up three hours ago while you waited for Natasha to return home. Accompanying the two plates were two empty wine glasses, a softly lit candle, and an unopened bottle of red wine. And in the refrigerator sat a baking tray of lemon meringue pie from Natasha’s favourite bakery.
Today held a significant meaning — It marked the second wedding anniversary with the love of your life, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Throughout the day, you spent hours pouring your heart and soul into preparing each slice of tenderloins as you made the beef stroganoff. Cooking wasn’t your forte, you had to learn how to cook it from websites.
And to add salt to the injury, she never even bothered to return home early, preferring to drown herself in alcohol at the bar with Bruce and Thor.
You thought that if you cooked her favourite dish and bought her favourite dessert, Natasha would come home instead of getting wasted at the bar, right? You were sorely mistaken. You had even persistently messaged her all day, excitedly telling her about the candlelit dinner you had carefully planned for the evening. However, all of your texts went unanswered.
You almost found amusement and humour in your naïvety.
“Y/N/N?” Natasha barely whispered. Her vulnerability differed from the loving and confident person you fell in love with.
“I need some time apart to figure things out, Natasha.” It had been some time since you uttered her full name, always preferring to call her ‘Natty’ or, your personal favourite, ‘sunshine’. 
A pang of sorrow tugged at your heart, for Natasha had truly been your sunshine once upon a time. In the beginning, she had truly been like a ray of sunlight, her sweet smile had the power to brighten even the gloomiest of days, her laughter your favourite melody. And now, as you stood before her, the Natasha you once knew and loved had become a distant memory. She was a shadow of her former self, almost unrecognisable to you. She was no longer your sunshine, but a raincloud that drenched you in loneliness and despair.
Your fingers instinctively played with the wedding ring adorning your left hand, tracing its edges and rolling it around your finger to alleviate your anxiety as you awaited her next words. You expected her to refuse and deny your words, to tell you that she needed you in her life, but all you got from her was a single word — “okay.”
Her answer made you scoff.
“That’s it? All I get is an ‘okay’?” You seethed, your hands clenched into tight fists as you let anger consume your words. It was as if your weight of frustration, loneliness and insecurities exploded, the pent-up emotions finally erupting into words. “Did you ever take this relationship seriously, Natasha? Was I nothing more to you than a warm body when you had nightmares and decent fuck when you were horny?” 
“I-I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way.” Natasha’s voice wavered as she struggled to find the right words.
“I can’t take this anymore.” You declared, the words spilling from your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fuck you, Natasha, I’m leaving. Forget taking a break — I never want to see your face again. I wish I had never met you.”
The hurt and shock in her eyes were unmistakable, but you did not regret your harsh words. You’d finally had enough. Enough of her unkept promises, her lies. Her actions spoke louder than words. The silence that followed afterwards was deafening. Natasha looked down, avoiding eye contact with you.
You slid your wedding ring off your finger, using more force than usual as you placed it on the coffee table. The sound of it hitting the table echoed loudly throughout the room. Instead of feeling a weight off your shoulders, a gnawing sense of anxiety and disappointment bubbled in your stomach. 
Is this the end of your marriage?
You love, no, loved Natasha, and the weight of the one-sided relationship had become too much for you to bear alone. You wondered if she ever truly cared about you in the first place, or if you were only a distraction from her busy life as an Avenger. You had a nagging feeling that, maybe, she was unsatisfied with being in love with an Avenger-turned-housewife. Maybe she preferred someone like Bruce? You shook your head as the image of Bruce surfaced in your mind. Aware of his crush on your wife, you could not help but wonder if Natasha, had developed feelings for him and hesitated to break your heart with the truth.
Maybe that’s why she’s been spending time with Bruce at the bar.
Was her love ever real then?
And with that, you turned away. You stood before the door, your hand hesitating over the doorknob. You expected Natasha to intervene and stop you from leaving. With a hesitant glance back at her, you observed her entire frame convulsing with sobs, making it even harder to walk away.
You stepped out the door as you couldn’t bear to witness the pain in your favourite green eyes any longer. You knew leaving was the right thing to do, even if it tore you apart inside. As you settled into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the familiar driveway, the haunting image of Natasha’s tear-streaked face lingered in your mind
You had to get far, far away from Natasha. The only other person you could trust is Wanda, your ex-girlfriend and another Avenger. She would be able to comfort you with her soothing presence and words. Tears welled in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks as you navigated the familiar streets to Wanda’s house. The turn of events weighed heavily on your mind, and millions of questions ran through your head.
Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the traffic light blaring red ahead. A car from the opposite direction ran right towards you, its glaring light blinding your vision with its intensity. With a sharp breath intake, the tyres’ screeching sound filled the air as you braced yourself for impact.
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It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours that Natasha knelt on the wooden floor after you left the house. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. All she knew was that her heart ached. It was as if someone had reached into her chest, grabbed her heart, and thrown it across the room without any care.
She felt overwhelmed. The air felt thick and made it hard for her to breathe as waves of panic coursed through her. She lay in a fetal position, her knees to her chest and her forehead on the floor. Her trembling hands clutched at her chest, desperately trying to calm the racing beats of her heart. Her body could not stop convulsing as tears streamed down her face, blurring the surroundings around her. 
Every shallow breath she expelled felt painful, and she felt like she was anchored to the cold ground beneath her. It was as if the room was spinning, and the walls were closing in, trapping her in endless suffering. The ache in her chest mirrored the shattering of her heart.
The events that happened after she came home drunk had sobered her up quickly, and all she felt now was a hollow emptiness. Natasha felt like a complete asshole. She had taken advantage of your kindness and patience and trampled all over it. She took you for granted, and now she was alone in the place she called home.
Home. It was merely a house, but the treasured memories the two of you shared with love and affection made it a home.
Once the waves of a panic attack passed, she craned her neck up to glance around her surroundings. The singular candle you prepared for the candlelit dinner was still burning on the dining table, illuminating the dimly lit living room. Even with the blinds drawn over the windows, she could see outside enough to gauge that sunrise was coming soon.
Unexpectedly, the voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y. shattered the silence as it echoed through the house. “Agent Natasha Romanoff, please come to the Avengers Compound as quickly as possible.” 
Natasha groaned softly in response, slowly getting on her feet cautiously. Her knees and arms ached as she got her balance, a painful reminder of how she spent the night in an uncomfortable position.
Even when she chose to live separately from the Avengers, Tony insisted he installed F.R.I.D.A.Y. into the home for ‘extra’ security. A sense of unease gnawed at her. She rarely got an announcement from the A.I. unless necessary, such as an emergency or a last-minute mission.
“Did something happen?” She called out to the A.I., her voice cracking and hoarse from the crying.
“Y/N Romanoff is in the hospital wing, she has suffered critical injuries from a car accident,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied promptly.
Panic surged through her body as she quickly shed last night’s attire. With each distressed movement, thoughts of how badly hurt you were raced through her mind. 
Shit. What has she done?
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Natasha barged through the doors of the infirmary in the Avengers Compound, her eyes surveying the all-too-familiar place. There were countless times when she had to prioritise tending to her wounds in the infirmary after missions instead of debriefing. The place buzzed with the hum of fluorescent lights, and the antiseptic smell in the air nauseated her. She approached the first medical professional in her sightline, a male nurse.
“Bring me to Y/N Romanoff’s room, now.” She ordered, grabbing the nurse’s uniform collar in a tight fist.
The nurse’s hands struggled under her grasp, choking out. “Y-Yes, Agent Romanoff. This way.” 
Letting go of his collar, the male nurse quickly led her down the hallways to your room in fear of angering the assassin further. Her heart raced as she followed behind him, not prepared for how wounded you would look after the car accident. As Natasha entered the room, her fears were confirmed as she saw you. You were lying on the hospital bed, pale and fragile, while hooked up to multiple wires and machines that monitored your every heartbeat and breathing. Your whole body was covered with bandages and bruises, and the sight of your unconscious body supplemented the guilt in her gut.
“Agent Romanoff, we’ve done X-rays, CT scans and an MRI of her body. She has multiple transverse fractures on her clavicle and pelvic bone. She’s suffered a traumatic brain injury from the car accident, and she’s been comatose ever since.”
Before she could question him further, the nurse quickly left the room. She huffed in annoyance. Shrugging off the encounter with the medical professional, she approached your bedside hesitantly, sitting on the chair beside the bed. Taking your cold hand in hers, her index and middle fingers quickly found the pulse point on your wrist. 
Your pulse was weak. 
Tears welled up in Natasha’s eyes, threatening to spill as she whispered through choked sobs, her voice trembling with emotion “It’s all my fault, I-I’m so sorry. Please, wake up.”
Natasha needed you alive and conscious. Without you, she felt lost, like she was swimming adrift in an endless sea. Her thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind. She felt like her world had become even greyer. She traced the contours of your face with her eyes as if trying to memorise every detail that made you uniquely you. All she could do was hope and pray that you would wake up soon to forgive her and give her one last chance to fix everything.
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Days turned into weeks into months. It’d been two months since you got into a coma. Two months since she’d heard her favourite voice. Two months of replaying the same scene the day she lost you.
The indifference in your voice. Your disappointed expression. The smell of beef stroganoff. The sound of your wedding ring placed on the coffee table. The sound of the door clicking behind you as you left the house.
Two months felt like two years to Natasha. With each passing moment, the vital signs monitor played the steady rhythm of your heartbeat in the medical room. Natasha refused to leave your side for even a moment. She was scared that you would flatline if she tore her eyes away from your body. She was like a bodyguard around you — keeping her eyes on your body even when her body was begging for sleep.
After Nick Fury heard about your current condition, he immediately gave Natasha time off from missions to allow her to prioritise your well-being. She was thankful for Nick Fury’s understanding.
Everyone in the Avengers recognised the toll it was taking on Natasha’s well-being. Wanda took it upon herself to bring the redhead meals and encourage her to shower and step outside for fresh air. Wanda would remind her that you wouldn’t want her to neglect her own needs. Despite being curious about what had happened that night, the brunette never pressed her for answers. It was obvious that the wounds were still fresh. Natasha always looked miserable whenever Wanda entered the medical room every day. The both of them would take turns taking care of you. Even when Natasha knew about your past romantic relationship with Wanda, she trusted her the most amongst all the other Avengers to take care of you when she had other matters to attend to.
Natasha felt a deep loneliness she couldn’t shake off that only your awakening could dispel. She clung to the glimmer of hope that each passing moment brought you closer to waking up. With every conversation with Dr. Cho telling her that your body was recovering well, her heart swelled with optimism. She would find a twinge of happiness in the gentle rhythm of the rise and fall of your chest.
When alone with you, Natasha would mindlessly talk to you, sharing stories of her day and reminding you that she loved you. Even when you were unconscious, she never failed to greet you every day with an ‘I love you’. She read your favourite books, played your favourite songs and whispered words of love, hoping you could somehow hear her. She’d stopped going to the bar and getting herself intoxicated, she knew that she had to be there for you.
Night after night, when Natasha’s body was too exhausted to stand vigil, she would drift off to sleep with her head resting on the edge of your bed. The position was far from comfortable, but the discomfort mattered little to her. All that mattered was being near you and being the first person you see when you wake up, even if it meant sacrificing her comfort.
And then, one day, as the first rays of dawn bathed the room in a warm glow, you woke up. Natasha was asleep when you aroused from your coma, and she stirred awake by the twitch from your hand intertwined with hers.
Your eyes fluttered open slowly, a soft whine leaving your throat as you met her tear-filled gaze. A wave of relief washed over Natasha, but your eyes widened in panic and alarm as you saw the redhead in front of you.
“W-Who the fuck are you?”
Natasha swore she could hear a pin drop from the silence in the room. The green eyes, previously full of hope, reflected a mixture of disappointment and pain. Speechless, Natasha met your stunned gaze as she took her time to process your words.
“W-Where am I?” You mumbled in a hoarse voice. 
Your eyes tried to adjust to the blinding light of the overhead lights as your consciousness slowly reawakened. A frown formed on your face as your eyes scanned every corner of the medical room. One of the surrounding machines beeped steadily, indicating that your vital signs were stable. You scratched your head and tried to remember how you ended up in the hospital, but you can’t.
Natasha picked up the glass of water from the nightstand and offered it to you with trembling hands. You drank the water thirstily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.
“It’s me, Natasha, your wife. Don’t you remember?” She began, moving her chair closer to your bed. “You’re at the Avengers Compound. You’ve been in a coma for a while.”
“I... Have a wife?” Aside from the fact that you were in an infirmary, the fact that you were married to someone surprised you more. You studied the features of the redhead sitting in front of you — the sense of familiarity tugged at the edges of your consciousness. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, we got married two years ago,” Natasha explained, her tone as soothing as possible.
“But... my girlfriend, Wanda.” You said, tilting your head to the side. “Where is she?”
Natasha’s hands shot up to cover her mouth as her eyes watered. She rose from the chair and stepped away from her bed. The room felt like it was closing in on her. Her hands became clammy, and each breath was laboured as her heart raced. A relentless drumbeat echoed in Natasha’s ears.
Was this a nightmare? 
The impulse to reach out and grab your hand, a source of comfort that calmed her down, surged within her. Yet, she hesitated.
You appeared as the body of the person Natasha had fallen in love with years ago when you were just eighteen and freshly recruited into the Avengers team. The both of you had a rocky start — she was your enemy first before she became your friend and eventually your lover. However, that chapter was a long time ago as you had retired from the front lines upon marrying her.
As Natasha observed you, a sense of unease settled within her. There wasn’t the same warmth she once found in your eyes. Instead, an unfamiliar emptiness stared back at her. The very gaze that used to ignite with love and affection now held an empty void — The same expression as the day when you broke up with her. Natasha clung to the hope that your memory would somehow seamlessly reweave themselves back into your consciousness, dispelling the thoughts that she was staring at a stranger disguised as her wife.
You wrinkled your nose as you awaited her response. You tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but your muscles weakened from inactivity and failed you. You winced as you felt a sharp pain in your chest.
“Don’t strain yourself.” Natasha’s voice was laced with concern. She gently guided you to remain lying down. “I should get Dr. Cho. Stay here, don’t move.”
Before you could formulate a response, she hurried out of the room. As Natasha disappeared from your view, her heart sank as she realised the extent of your memory loss. She should have expected this — Dr. Cho did briefly inform her about how you might experience a few symptoms of memory loss due to the brain injury.
But damn, did your words hit hard.
As Natasha hurried down the corridor, a nagging sense of guilt held her down. Was your memory loss a form of karma for her past actions? Or perhaps a second chance to rebuild things with you? Even though you had effectively cut ties with her moments before the accident, she wanted to be there for you every step of the way. Was she going to tell you what had happened mere minutes before your car accident? No, not yet. Her focus had to be on providing support during your rehabilitation.
She couldn’t bear to lose you again.
The intensity of her emotions became even more palpable as Natasha approached the nurses’ station. Two familiar figures gradually became apparent in the distance, Dr. Cho and Wanda. Both of them were engaged in an animated conversation, but they stopped when they saw the dread on Natasha’s face.
“Y/N’s awake.” Natasha relayed.
Entering the hospital room as a trio, your eyes ignited with a mix of relief and recognition as you saw Wanda.
“Hey there, sweetheart. I missed you.” You greeted Wanda with a wide grin.
As those words slipped from your lips, Natasha’s heart tightened in response. It was a term you had reserved only for her before the accident. On the other hand, Wanda could only manage a warm smile, waving at you. Wanda was unsure of how to respond to the term you used to call her when the both of you were dating.
“Y/N, it’s great to see you awake.” Dr. Cho chimed in, trying to ease the atmosphere. With a clipboard in hand, she flipped through your medical records. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m… confused. What happened to me?” You asked.
Natasha quickly jumped in. “You were in a car accident two months ago.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Car accident? But I don’t remember anything.” 
Wanda, sensing the discomfort in the room, stepped forward. “It’s okay, Y/N. The important thing is that you’re awake now. Natasha and I are here for you.”
In response, you graced Wanda with an endearing smile. Your hand extended, seeking and finding Wanda’s. You seemed to be reassured by her presence and physical touch. Natasha, observing the scene, couldn’t help but feel a subtle pang of jealousy. She pushed it aside, reminding herself that you were only acting this way because of the memory loss.
“We’re all here to help you remember,” Natasha spoke softly. 
As your eyes flickered between the two women, there was a spark of love in your eyes as you glanced at Wanda. However, when your gaze turned toward Natasha, the same reserved void of distance was in your eyes.
“Do you remember anything else before the car accident?” Dr. Cho inquired, her pen poised over the pages as she wrote down your responses.
“No…?” You responded tentatively, a furrow forming on your forehead.
“Alright. Firstly, what’s your current profession?” Dr. Cho probed.
“I’m a retired Avenger.” You uttered, unconsciously tightening your grip on Wanda’s hand.
“Your age?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Do you remember these two?” Dr. Cho redirected your attention, pointing to Natasha and Wanda.
“Wanda’s my girlfriend. I don’t remember who the other person is.” You confessed, looking at Natasha with a raised eyebrow.
Natasha crossed her arms, feeling uncomfortable under your gaze.
“Very well. Your cooperation is appreciated, Y/N.” Dr. Cho acknowledged you with a nod, turning her attention to the two other women. “Agent Romanoff and Agent Maximoff, may I talk to the both of you in my office for a few minutes?”
Natasha and Wanda exchanged an apprehensive glance before nodding in unison, accompanying the doctor out of the room. In Dr. Cho’s office, both women settled into chairs opposite her desk, their postures stiff. Dr. Cho wasted no time, closing the door to her office with a decisive click before taking her seat behind the desk.
“I’ll need to ask Y/N more questions later to confirm the type of amnesia she’s experiencing. Based on the questions earlier, there’s a high chance she’s experiencing systematized amnesia.” Leaning forward, Dr. Cho rested her elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “It’s a type of amnesia that happens when an individual experiences long-term stress or trauma. It can be from experiencing physical, sexual or emotional neglect and abuse. In response, the brain blocks out all memories about that one specific person from their past.”
Dr. Cho’s statement made Natasha’s mind spin. Wanda gripped the armrests tightly, her eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and concern. “Is that why she remembers me, and not Natasha?”
“Exactly.” She paused, turning her attention to Natasha. “Agent Romanoff, have you ever… hit your wife?”
“What? No, of course not.” Natasha replied with an exasperated shake of her head. “But… We did argue before the car accident. I haven’t been spending time with her and I was too busy drinking at the bar to spend time with her on the day of our second anniversary. She broke up with me before she got into the car accident.”
Wanda’s anger flared, her fists clenched by her sides as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “So the reason she got into a car accident is because of you?” She accused. “What the fuck, Natasha.” 
Natasha drew in a deep breath. “I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t know that she’d get into a car accident. I messed up.”
Dr. Cho stepped in. “Emotions run high in situations like these, but our focus should be on helping Y/N recover and helping her navigate through her memory loss. We can’t change the past, but we can make choices to change the future.”
Wanda, her jaw clenched in frustration, couldn’t contain the bitterness in her retort. “Fine, but regret doesn’t undo the damage you’ve done, Natasha. Y/N trusted and loved you, and you let her down. She doesn���t deserve this, and she certainly doesn’t deserve you.” 
Natasha’s lips trembled slightly, struggling to hold back tears.
Wanda, unable to contain her frustration, abruptly pushed her chair back. “I can’t deal with this right now.” 
She stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her. Dr. Cho winced at the resounding sound before sighing. “Let’s regroup later. Wanda needs some time, and we’ll address these issues when everyone’s ready.”
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Wanda burst into your medical room, her brows furrowed in deep frustration and a scowl etched across her face. Startled by her sudden entrance, you jumped slightly in your bed, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw her expression.
“Wands?” You whispered. “What’s wrong?”
As you whispered her name, Wanda’s tense expression softened. She approached your bed with slow steps, her hands reaching out to hold yours.
“It’s... It’s nothing, Y/N.” Wanda replied, her voice tight with emotion. 
Despite Wanda’s attempt to dismiss her agitation, you could sense the remaining anger beneath her facade. You furrowed your brow, concern etching your features. 
“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” You insisted gently, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “You stormed in here looking like you were ready to take on an army.”
Wanda’s lips twitched with a hint of amusement, but the weight of her distress remained evident in her features. She hesitated for a moment, exhaling a breath before finally speaking.
“It’s Natasha,” Wanda admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I just… I don’t know how to handle all of this.”
As much as Wanda wanted to tell you the reason you fell into a coma, she knew that it wasn’t her place to reveal the information without Natasha’s consent. She had to choose her words carefully.
You listened intently, your heart sinking at the mention of Natasha’s name. The complexity of your relationship with her made you feel uncertain and overwhelmed.
How could you be married to someone you couldn’t remember?
“Is Natasha really my wife?” You asked.
You closed your eyes, trying to find any memory that you shared with the woman who was supposedly your wife. But try as you might, your mind remained blank, empty of any intimate or shared memories with the redhead.
Wanda’s expression softened with empathy. “Yes.” She affirmed gently. “Natasha’s your wife.”
“That means you and I… we broke up?” You pressed your lips together, trying not to frown.
“Yeah.” Wanda began, her voice soft but tinged with sadness. "We broke up because I wasn’t ready to become something more. You love Natasha a lot, more than you ever loved me. Even a blind man could see it.”
“Oh.” You sighed, rubbing your thumb over Wanda’s hands. “But… are you sure? Did past me have feelings for you still?”
“Not anymore, Y/N. Your future’s with Natasha now. She loves you a lot and she’s been miserable ever since you got into a coma, so go easy on her, alright?”
Your heart sank at Wanda’s words.
“Alright.” You offered her a bittersweet smile.
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A week after waking up, Dr. Cho officially diagnosed you with systematic amnesia. Once you had healed under her careful observation, you were discharged and allowed to return to the home you shared with Natasha. Despite your reluctance to burden her with your care, she was the only one you could depend on. Wanda and the other Avengers had their responsibilities, leaving Natasha as your primary caretaker.
You were still bruising and aching all over, so Natasha assisted you with various miscellaneous tasks, such as managing your medication intake and helping you with showering. Physically, you were improving, but you still couldn’t remember Natasha.
Gradually, you treated her as if she were a stranger. She understood that it wasn’t intentional, but it still tugged at her heartstrings.
The way you flinched whenever she touched you, because she was used to doing it back then when the both of you were together. It pained her deeply. You kept your thoughts and feelings to yourself, not trusting her enough to talk about your feelings. Despite this, outwardly, your interactions with her seemed relatively ‘normal’. The both of you never argued, never fought, and you’d spent time together.
But it still wasn’t the same as it used to be.
Back then, when Natasha would return home from her missions, you’d eagerly rush to her, enveloping her in the tightest hug imaginable and peppering her face with kisses. Now, you greeted her with a tight-lipped smile and a small wave.
In the past, you would cuddle together while watching late-night movies, holding her hand and resting your head on her shoulder. Now, there was a noticeable distance between you, an emotional and physical space that seemed to widen with each passing day.
Natasha tried bringing you to a coffee place — the one she brought you on your first date. You were intrigued, but you still couldn’t remember anything.
Natasha was genuinely happy to see you making progress in your recovery. Yet, beneath that happiness, she was beginning to grow impatient. Your health was improving, but the state of your marriage seemed to deteriorate because you were unable to remember anything about her.
And, one day, Natasha finally reached her breaking point. She had prepared dinner for you, setting the table and waiting patiently on the couch for your return. But you didn’t arrive until three hours later, long after the food had grown cold.
“Where were you?” Natasha’s voice held a sharp edge as she crossed her arms.
You hadn’t mentioned going out, let alone with whom.
“I went out with Wanda for dinner.” You responded casually.
“And you couldn’t text me to let me know?” Natasha’s tone grew more aggressive.
Not only had you essentially stood her up, but you had also gone out with your ex-girlfriend — the same ex-girlfriend you might still harbour feelings for. It was ironic. It felt like the tables had turned. She was the one feeling hurt and frustrated this time.
“My phone was dead. Why are you so angry?” Your voice rose, becoming defensive as you retrieved your phone from your jacket pocket and tossed it onto the dining table.
“Because I made dinner for you.” 
“So what? I can have it for lunch tomorrow.” 
“That’s not the point. I was waiting for you.” Natasha insisted, her tone laced with frustration.
“And I promise I’ll eat it tomorrow. I’m tired, Natasha. I’m going to bed.” You said dismissively, turning away and walking towards the master bedroom.
There was something else changed, too. Natasha took it upon herself to occupy the guest bedroom while you resided in the master bedroom. It felt like there was a mental and physical separation between the both of you.
It continued for months. Natasha almost wanted to give up, contemplating whether to raise the white flag and accept the bitter truth that you would never remember her at all. The constant arguments between you never seemed to resolve. Instead, they ended with either Natasha or you walking away when things got too heated. With time, Natasha felt like the distance between you grew even more larger. You started coming home late, leaving Natasha disappointed as she waited for you to return. Every dinner she prepared for you went unnoticed, adding to her sense of loneliness and frustration. 
Natasha felt as though you had undergone a complete transformation, like someone similar to you but not really, well, you. She was a stranger to you just as you were to her.
You were sitting on a plush chair, engrossed in the pages of a book when she finally accepted defeat. She observed you quietly for a moment, the way you were oblivious to her presence behind her.
“Are we still together?” Natasha asked, her voice breaking the silence.
You looked up to find her standing before you, a mixture of longing and sadness in her gaze. 
You closed the book slowly, placing it on the coffee table.
You chuckled bitterly, a touch of sarcasm lacing your words. “Well, legally, I suppose we are.”
Natasha’s heart sank at your response. She had hoped for affection, but instead, she was met with indifference.
“Do you even want us to be together?” Her voice quivered as she spoke. 
You studied her momentarily, leaning your head back against the headrest as you looked her up and down. Natasha looked miserable, her cheeks caked with dried tears and dark circles under her eyes from sleepless nights. 
“I’m sorry, Natasha.” You murmured, sighing. “I just… I don’t think we’re working out.”
Natasha felt her heart drop at your words. She had feared this moment, dreaded the possibility of hearing those words from you. Yet, the reality of it hit her like a sudden blow.
Your voice cracked as you spoke, barely on the verge of tears. “I tried. I really did try to remember you. Remember I came home late because I told you I was spending time with Wanda? I was walking around the places you brought me to, hoping that I’d remember something, anything.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha asked. Her heart clenched at your words and her tears spill over her cheeks.
“Because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t want to disappoint you at the end of the day.” You whispered, standing up from the plush chair and walking over to her. You raised your hand to Natasha’s cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your touch. “I want you, but I don’t think I’m in love with you. You deserve better than this, Natasha. You deserve better than me. You’re not in love with me — You were in love with the me before the accident.”
Natasha closed her eyes, leaning into your touch, a silent plea for reassurance. But as you withdrew your hand, the ache of longing remained. 
Just like how your love was out of touch.
“We can’t keep pretending, Natasha.” You said softly, your voice tinged with regret. “Maybe it’s time we accept that things have changed.”
With a heavy sigh, you turned away, unable to bear the pain of seeing her heartbreak. It pained you to hurt her, but you knew that prolonging the inevitable would only cause more suffering for both of you.
This time Natasha knew that she had to stop you from leaving somehow. She couldn’t make the same mistake twice. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not again. Not for the third time. 
As you headed towards the door, Natasha’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N, please... don’t go.”
But you couldn’t bring yourself to stay. Not when the love you’ve heard from Natasha felt fake. Like it never happened.
You paused for a moment, your hand on the doorknob, before offering a final, pained glance back at Natasha. “I’m sorry, Natasha. Goodbye.”
And with that, you stepped out the door, leaving behind a redhead with a shattered heart.
Maybe in an alternate universe, you could remember her and love her eternally.
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319 notes · View notes
violynt-skies · 2 months
Text
we are the same you and i
-
-
leo and krang are introduced to the audience in the same manner as they’re both shown to appear confident, cocky and arrogant.
leo’s ego coming from a place of recent victory from defeating the shredder and feeling on top of the world while krang’s is from a genuine belief that they are the superior being to all other life.
with this you have the overconfident defender and the prideful conqueror. neither able to see their flaws, with leo being lax about fighting and believing he’s in the right and the krang having a mindset that any mistake made was a rarity and impossible to repeat because the fact in their mind is that they’re better in every way.
in the beginning their motives are fairly similar, to win, to survive, to come out on top.
however after following defeat after defeat and experiencing pure loss of his family, the mindset that leo has changes and he realizes he’s been going about things wrong and and the goal isn’t to merely win, it is to protect his family and the innocent people around them.
and this mindset is what inevitably leads to the downfall of the krang because he repeatedly is unable to understand or the will that people have in protecting others and doing what it takes to survive and win out of love for family as they only strive to win for the desire to control and conquer, even going as far to think that their destruction of life is a gift and makes them a savior from weakness
which is why he mocks their idea of duty to protect others as he believes that all other beings should and will give up inevitably
“strength always prevails”
however he doesn’t take into account the turtle’s strength of will and their ability to use that ego and arrogance against him, which in turn, is what ends up being krang’s true weakness and leads to his defeat. bc he never would’ve thought that someone would’ve sacrificed themselves in order to win because such a concept never would’ve been considered by him in the first place.
because while both krang and leo strived to win and defeat, their ideas of it differed greatly. and because leo understood how his arrogance made him weak, he was able to discover how to make it into a strength by turning the krang’s own confidence against him.
“i missed on purpose.”
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pearlsandpemberly · 10 months
Text
shared breath - levi x reader (18+)
Summary:
Levi's last chance at life allows him to love her the way he's always wanted to.
Genre: Light Smut, Established Relationship, Romantic Fluff
POV: Third Person, f!reader
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51501670
Note: This can be read as a follow-up to my other fic 'until then', but can be read on its own.
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 “Do you need help?”
Levi doesn’t look at her, hands still occupied with his shirt buttons. “I haven’t lost all my fingers now, have I?” is his quiet response.
He hears her walk closer to him and exhales softly through the nose when she places a hand on the back of his neck. “You and I both know you could still kill a man with your eye shut – I also know that you usually undress yourself a lot faster than you’re doing now.”
Levi shrugs a shoulder, hands coming back down to his lap. They are ensnared with the slightest of tremors – a rarity, despite everything his body has endured. He curls his fingers inward, clenching his fists.
She doesn’t move, threading her own fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. The familiarity of her touch still affects Levi as it has always done, the shiver up his spine as prevalent as it was when he first took her hand in his. He tips his head back slightly, leaning into her touch.
 “Do it,” he says. “Please.”
 “Ah, manners.” She comes around, kneeling in front of his chair. “So easy to forget that you know what they are.”
Levi huffs but finds his words lost when her hands come to finish the job he barely started, the pads of her fingers brushing against the cotton of his white shirt. He looks at her in a simple white nightgown, the small straps of lace kissing both of her collarbones. Her face is illuminated by the warm glow of the candlelight and once again Levi finds his mouth drying up, feeling his heart thud a little faster as she exposes more of his chest. Her expression morphs, a shy smile forming on her lips. As her cheeks darken, Levi’s do too, as he realises she can feel his pulse quickening.
Her movements slow as she comes to the bottom of his shirt and he sees that her hands are slightly unsteady as she pulls the fabric out of the waistband of his trousers. It is something she has done for Levi countless times before, and yet…
The thickness of the air grows as she looks up to him, tilting her head to the side. “I’ll leave you to do the rest,” she says quietly, raising herself off the floor, ready to step back.
Levi takes a hold of her wrist, keeping her in place. “Have I shown you what this new chair can do?”
She shakes her head, smoothing her gown.
Although his hands are still unstable, Levi turns to the side of his chair, pulling at several mechanisms until the left arm disconnects from the chair. He places it down and moves to the right side, repeating the process. When he’s done, Levi looks to her to see her raised eyebrows and intrigued smile.
 “Was this Onyakopon’s idea?” she asks.
Levi swallows and takes a hold of her hand again. “It was mine.”
One of her eyebrows raise a little higher. “Yours?”
He nods. “There was something I wanted to be able to do,” he whispers.
She understands without him having to say more, but she waits for him to pull her closer before she straddles Levi, hitching her legs and settling cautiously onto his lap. Her hands find their usual place on his chest and his come to settle on her waist, squeezing her gently.
The warmth of her body stokes the hunger building up within Levi and his hesitation begins to dissipate. Her sweet smile and shining eyes only makes him want more of it, more of her.
She shuffles further up his thighs, skirt bunching up so her own are beginning to show. Her breath fans shakily over Levi’s lips and her eyes flicker down to glance at his bare skin.
He taps her side gently. “Distracted?” he teases, though it comes out a little hoarse.
 “Can you judge me?” she responds, looking back up to him.
 “I do, only because this is not a new sight for you.”
She flicks his sternum playfully. “I know, I know. I just…”
As her fingers cling onto his shirt, Levi leans in and kisses her.
Although it is another thing that is not new, the flame that ignites within the pair touches them with the same sharpness that it always does. His hands run up her back and shoulder blades, pulling her flush against him, intoxicated and entranced by the beautiful being that he can call his. When she sighs against his mouth, his fingers flex, moving down to grab onto her plush hips, willing her to move just a little – and when she does, Levi lets out his own muffled sound of relief.
Bliss is not easy to come by, despite living in the most peaceful era of his entire life, but whenever she’s with him, he’s a step closer.
The candlelight flickers, the heat builds, and the world blurs as they lose themselves in their own private universe sealed within these four walls. Their sounds become less controlled and their movements become more bold: Levi comes to run his hands up and down her soft thighs, fingers splayed; she tickles the sides of his ribs as she pushes her hips down against his, furrowing her brow with restrained desire. They’re waves in the ocean, pushing and pulling in sync, their emotions ebbing and flowing alongside each other with practised ease; and yet it is unique, somewhat in unchartered waters, and the thrill of anticipation mingles nicely with their shared adoration.
Levi is the first to pull back, though not too far; their eyes meet and it takes all he has not to pull her as close to him as he possibly can. Her pupils are dilated, her cheeks red, her chest heaving, her lips slightly swollen. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and he places a thumb on it, taking a hold of her chin.
 “I want to make love to you.”
The hitch of breath that escapes her mouth would have made Levi smile if he weren’t so nervous. He rubs a circle into her upper thigh, only just glancing the skin under where her skirt ends.
 “Are you sure?” she asks when she finds her voice, gaze fixed on his good eye.
 “I am,” Levi affirms. “Only if you would like to.”
She doesn’t need to think, but she takes pause, scanning his expression. When she comes to hold onto his wrist, Levi notes that her fingers are trembling – she is just as nervous as he is.
After a moment more, she nods. “Yes – please.”
If Levi were still in the state where he could pick her up and take her to the bed, he would do it that instant. However, it’s not going to be that easy, and whilst there’s no rush, he wants it so badly that he can’t quite help the quick swiftness in which he pulls her back towards him, letting out a groan when their kiss deepens almost instantly. Her own desperation shows in how she wraps her arms around his neck, their chests pressed together, a whine trapped in her throat. Their mutual desire becomes more pronounced by the second and Levi wills it not to be over before it’s begun, though it is hard to concentrate on that when she is everywhere.
This time, it is her who breaks away, placing one hand over his heart. “Would you like to move to the bed?” she murmurs, tone tentative but buzzing with eagerness.
Levi nods a little too vigorously, but he is not embarrassed.
Though walking any distance is greatly difficult – and some days next to near impossible – his legs decide to cooperate with him, though he still needs her to help him stand. Her hand holds his tightly, arm bent ready if he needs to support himself further. Together, they move slowly towards the wooden bed; she lets Levi brace himself as they reach the side and he crawls onto the mattress, coming to sit in the centre. She pauses before he tugs on her wrist with playful impatience, patting the space between his legs – she clambers carefully onto the bed, coming to sit in the gap, legs hooked over Levi’s, facing each other again. Levi takes his time admiring her, running his hands along her arms and shoulders, coming to play with one of her nightgown straps.
The couple can communicate through stares alone, but tonight is different. “May I?”
“Yes.”
The lace falls easily from her shoulder, resting halfway down her upper arm. Though it barely exposes anything new, the picture of her naked shoulders connecting to her neck lights something anew within Levi. Carefully, oh so carefully, he pulls her a little closer so he doesn’t have to strain – his lips caress her collarbones with a feather-light touch, grazing her skin gracefully as he listens to her, watching how her head tips back and how her chest rises and falls a little quicker. He can feel her burning underneath the thin material of her nightgown, her body yearning for him and only him.
As he trails up the column of her neck, leaving soft kisses and a delicate bite, she gasps out, hands tugging on this open shirt. “Can I take this off?”
Levi doesn’t reply, instead shrugging the cotton off, lips never leaving her skin. She helps, removing his shirt and pushing it warily onto the floor, though Levi is past the point of caring about it getting dirty or wrinkled. The way her soft hands dance over his chest, shoulders, and abdomen causes his concentration to slip, a noise of want escaping past his teeth.
In slow movements of clothes being removed, broken up by hushed questions and affirmations, Levi lies down naked, any self-consciousness slipping away as she lies next to him as exposed as he is, her gaze still fixed upon his face. A sight that is not unfamiliar but illuminated in a different context only opens Levi up to how he can love and appreciate her in so many different ways, and that privilege almost brings tears to his eyes. Her own are slightly glassy, and she moves his hair away from his face before kissing him again.
Their bodies press together, their hands exploring each other with cautious care as the warmth of the room encases them, the tenderness and sensuality clouding their minds and burning pleasantly under their skin as they come closer together still. An age passes before they find purchase on the most intimate parts of each other, but they’re in no rush – too many things are new in order to rush.
Both of them are trembling as they begin to learn how to make the other come undone – Levi, an Ackerman, always one who can do everything perfectly first try, has to fight off his doubt, concentrating on her alone. Every sound she makes, every furrow of her brow, every twist of her body sears into his memory and he chases that pleasure alone, the pleasure he derives from this sight being his to see, this experience being theirs to share. A sheen of perspiration layers over her skin and it enamours him. She watches him just as closely, smiling against his mouth whenever he grunts or hisses with gratification, whispering words of devotion and praise that travels straight through him and makes his face grow even hotter. When her name tumbles from his lips, she moans and it’s a melody that Levi wants to hear over and over again.
Everything keeps blurring at the edges and blood roars so loudly in Levi’s ears that time escapes him entirely and their actions become instinctual, and their bodies are moving and they’re whispering one more question to each other before his eyes fly open to see her atop of him, nails digging into his chest and eyes screwed shut. He holds onto her hips so tightly that he’s sure it will bruise her, but he can’t stop himself because they’re the closest two humans can possibly be and he might let go, and god he never wants to let her go.
It's slow and careful and hot and messy. The melding of their bodies from their connected lips to their flushed chests to their stirred sexes fall into a somewhat cohesive rhythm together, but neither worry themselves when they fall out of sync. They pant and moan with abandon, their tongues touching as they kiss each other senseless, both lost in the heat and emotion of everything. Levi feels himself slipping closer to a precipice and he wills himself to cling on a little longer, his fingers grabbing hold of any part of her he can find so he can keep himself there.
When she brings him to sit up with her, Levi wraps his arms around her middle and uses all his strength to help her move, leaving messy kisses over her breasts and not caring about how he’s beginning to lose control. Though his exhaustion, he pushes his hips up to meet her and almost falls over the edge when she cries out and tugs on his hair. He keeps it up, trailing a hand up to cup the back of her head, connecting their foreheads together, her gorgeous eyes staring straight back into his. Her name tumbles from Levi’s lips and then it doesn’t stop, the syllables tripping over themselves again and again as they guide each other to the edge of the precipice together.
And the light dulls because nothing shines as brightly as she does – they unravel together, a miniscule supernova exploding between them as they lose their breath in a fleeting moment that now only exists in their memories. All she can do is babble incoherently as she comes apart on top of him, her limbs becoming heavy as their movements slow.
And her name is all Levi can say, a song that is stuck on repeat, a sweet symphony that devolves into a choked refrain as tears stream down his cheeks and his throat seizes up. His lips find hers, and they are wet and sticky, but she doesn’t pull away as she clings to him tighter than before .
They stay like this for a time, catching their breaths and gazing at each other, rooting themselves in the seconds that they never thought they would get to have.
Pain and fatigue begins to weigh Levi down as the high slips away from him, but as always she is aware. She pulls away eventually, albeit reluctantly, and begins to make their space ready for rest, wiping him and then herself with a damp cloth, bringing him clean sleeping clothes, and moving to blow out the candles sans the one on their bedside. All the while, Levi watches her, the smallest smile on his face.
When she climbs into bed next to him, Levi wastes no time in taking her into his arms once more, coming to cup her face and kissing her cheeks one at a time. She chuckles, dipping her head as if she’s shy, and all of the love he holds for her increases tenfold. He tells her so and her cheeks go redder than they’ve done all night, just like they always do when he says it.
 “I love you too. So much.”
She falls asleep before he does, just like always, and although Levi has no need to memorise every detail of her lovely face, he still watches her until his eyelids betray him. Only once does he wake up that night, and it’s to the sensation of her placing the gentlest kiss over his blind eye, a gesture so tender that Levi for the first time believes that perhaps when they die and their spirits move on, that they will find each other there again.
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stellar-skyy · 7 months
Text
NO TEARS LEFT — Platonic Arlecchino & reader.
i. SUMMARY: It was well-known that the Knave hated tears. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, hurt/comfort, found family, house of the hearth!reader, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1k words. iv. A/N: Is this ooc? Who knows! I'm choosing to believe Arlecchino is a strict but loving parent, so that is what I went with here. Hoyoverse, don’t make her an irredeemable villain please and thank you.
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Crying was a rarity within the House of the Hearth.
It was perhaps odd for a place that housed dozens of children—their ages stretching between those barely able to walk, to those on the cusp of adulthood—to not hear at least a few sobs every now and then. But more often than not, the House was still, existing in an almost suffocating peacefulness. There were sounds; a rare echo of laughter from somewhere three halls down, or the steady drone of siblings talking over the top of each other, but never tears.
Occasionally though, a low cry will sound somewhere within the halls, and all close by will freeze. They will turn to the child—it was always someone new, who hadn’t been accustomed to the ways of the House yet—and hush them, whispering fervently:
Father hates tears.
Lynette was the kindest in telling the poor souls. She would wipe the streaks of tears off their cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve, shushing them gently. “Keep your voice down. Father hates crying children.”
Some of the older children were a little harsher in their reaction, elbowing the newcomer until they shut their mouths with a click, and let the tears drip silently down their face.
Every member who had been there long enough to be scolded at least once by Father knew the rules, and knew to keep their emotions locked away inside until they were either alone or dead. They didn’t dare to think of what would happen to them, should they dare to show such weakness.
The hunched figure that sat at the top of the stairs with their legs pressed against their chest was no new arrival, and yet tears had begun to slowly drip across their cheeks.
A click reverberated across the walls, and their head snapped up at the sound. They craned their neck backwards, while the clicking continued: the telltale sound of the Knave’s heels clacking against tiles. Instantly they were on their feet, scrubbing furiously at their eyes. The sounds grew louder, their posture stiffened, and their hands withdrew from their face right as the Knave turned the corner.
“Father,” they crowed, praying to the Tsaritsa that their voice was level.
“My child.” She responded in turn. Her eyes swept across them for a moment, and their eyes flicked to the floor instinctively. She continued down the hall at her usual pace, and it looked like she was about to move past them and down the stairs. Inwardly, they breathed a sigh of relief. It was a close call, but they would be in the clear once she stepped past—
A clawed hand caught their chin, tilting it upwards. Father twisted it gently to the left, then the right, observing the redness of their eyes and faint shininess on their cheeks. “You have been crying. What is wrong?”
And with that, any semblance of composure shattered.
A sharp draw of breath was their only warning before their throat closed up, and more tears trickled down, like they had never stopped in the first place. Sniffles left their lips first, soon followed with gasps and cries that echoed through the foyer. Father’s face turned blank, and the tears only fell faster at her reaction.
“I’m sorry—” they choked out between hitching breaths. “I-I’m sorry, Father.”
Father hated tears. Father hated seeing crying children, she hated—
“Hush now,” Father hummed, letting go of their face. They shrank back against the wall, shielding their face with their hands, as if that would do anything to stop her from seeing just how pathetic they were.
“I’m so sorry,” they repeated hoarsely.
“No apologies, dear.”
She paused for a beat of silence, letting them try to pull themself together.
“Do you know why I dislike tears?” Father asked quietly.
“Because crying is a sign of emotion.” They murmured mechanically, repeating the words the older residents drilled into their skull the day they arrived. “And emotion is a sign of weakness.”
“That is partially true.” Father agreed, tapping her cheek rhythmically with her nail. “As a member of the Fatui, you will be faced with many adversaries. You cannot afford unnecessary emotion; not when it earns you a target on your back.”
She paused to swipe a stray tear from their chin with her nail, wiping it on a handkerchief and continuing.
“It is dangerous out there for you, and I have a duty to train my children to be able to withstand the treachery that they will no doubt encounter. I do not tell you emotions are a weakness because I am cruel. I tell you it is a weakness because it is. You must learn young to control them; lest it cost your life.”
“I-I understand, Father.” They said in a strangled tone.
“I’m not finished,” She chided softly, without any real irritation behind it. “While out there, concealing such emotion is a strength, there isn’t a necessity to do so certain times. When you are in a place of safety, such is the time to let it out.”
Father extended her arms out in a clear invitation. Their eyes widened in shock, but they didn’t hesitate to fall forward into her waiting arms, letting themself be drawn tightly against her chest. Their hands grabbed fistfuls of the back of her coat, while she traced circles across their shoulder blades in a soothing motion.
“You are safe, my child.” Father crooned, dipping her head low to kiss the top of their head. “While you are here, there is no one to harm you.”
No one…
With arms strong enough to hold the weight of the world circling their waist, and nails that were sharp enough to tear out a person’s throat drawing lines up and down their back to sooth them, they believed her easily. She held them there for what had to have only been a minute, letting them sob into the front of her coat, clinging to her until their cries evened out into nothing.
And in that quiet moment, all they could comprehend was the soft, steady feeling that they are loved.
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reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
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smutoperator · 9 months
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Snsd yuri x malereader smut kink femdom mommy kink bdsm
A Special Fanmeeting
Kwon Yuri x Male Reader
Tags: ass worship, bdsm, bush, cum swallowing, facesitting, feet worship, femdom, flashback, humiliation, mommy kink, nilf, pussy eating, sex slave, tie-up, thighjob
Word count: 4627
Manila, Philippines, July 9th, 2023
You had dreamed for a long time of seeing one of your first idols to catch your attention. But finally, you managed to do it. The news that Yuri, your favorite SNSD member, was going to do many fanmeetings across Asia had made you very enthusiastic. Seeing her perform had become a rarity over the last few years, as Yuri had increasingly prioritized her acting career. But you finally got the chance to see her in person, buying premium tickets to her fanmeeting in Manila.
As Yuri entered the stage, a sudden rush hit your heart. You remembered everything that made you fall in love with her a long time ago, when you were just a teenage boy in high school. Now, you were a grown man, but her hypnotizing powers continued to impress you as you followed the rhythm of seeing her dance to "1, 2 Step" for the first time in years. Yuri's body rolls were as sexy as the first time you saw them, and even though it was her body moving, it was yours tingling every time you took a look at her amazing physique.
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As you prepared to leave the fanmeeting, very satisfied with what you had seen, a security guard stopped you. That made you very confused, as you didn't know you had done anything wrong to lead to such a reaction. But quickly, any confusion was solved when he said, "Yuri wants to see you". You were definitely shocked, as in your ticket there was no indication of any meeting behind the scenes, just the regular performance she had just finished. "Sure", you replied back to the guard. As he indicated the way to find her, you headed towards the backstage of the arena, getting increasingly anxious in the way to meet your longtime idol. Another bodyguard waited for you at Yuri's dressing room.
"Who are you?", the guard asked. "I'm here to see Yuri", you replied. "Do you have the credentials?", he asked back. "Well, no, the other guard just told me she wants to see me", you said. The guard was confused but called her on the phone anyway. "She gave you the OK signal; you can come in", the guard replied back. As he opened the dressing room, you were extremely shocked. Yuri was just wearing black lingerie, her body on full display. You stuttered to say any words, just looking at her body from top to bottom. You couldn't help yourself and started getting hard just looking at her body, repeating what you had done during her stage performance.
"Are you scared, baby? Don't be; mommy is here to comfort you", Hearing those words from Yuri's mouth was like a knockout. Comfort you? What did she mean by that? But Yuri approached you and just said, "Take that shirt off; mommy wants to take a look at your body", you obliged, as Yuri now grabbed a collar and put it on your neck, whispering to your ear, "Today you're gonna worship your mommy goddess. Now, ON YOUR KNEES", she said, elevating her tone as you kneeled in front of her, your eyes making direct contact with her honey thighs. "Come here, baby", Yuri asked, holding you by the handle attached to the collar like you were her pet. "Yes, mommy", you replied as she sat on her chair, looking you down.
"Look at me", Yuri demanded as your eyes set sights on her toned belly. "Do you know why I am here?", she asked. "For a fanmeeting with your baby, mommy", you replied, trying to look as submissive as possible to her. "Wrong", she said. "It's because I want someone to worship me like a goddess; can you do that, baby?", she continued. "Yes, mommy", you answered back. Yuri picked up the whip she was holding with her right hand and slapped it right on your back, making you scream. "I didn't say you could call me mommy yet", she told you, giving you an extra little whip in the back before authorizing you, "Now you can call me mommy". "Yes, mommy", you said for the third time after getting her endorsement.
"Good, slave", she replied, pushing you closer to her with the handle on her left hand. "There is something I want from you", Yuri said as she crossed her legs while sitting in the chair. "Well, a lot of things", she continued, shaking her feet a bit. "And you're going to give me all of them". "How can I please you, mommy?", you asked. "You can please me by being a good boy, an obedient toy, a sex slave", she said. "I'll do everything to please you, mommy", you said. "So, if you wanna please me, do whatever I say. You can start begging me first. Repeat after me: please take advantage of my sorry self, mommy", Yuri said, to which you repeated word by word multiple times as she kept asking you to say it over and over.
"Good boy", Yuri said. "Now is the time to get down and lick the bottom of my dirty shoes", she said, putting her high heels she had just performed on right in your face. You just obliged. "Yes, just like that, and don't touch my feet until I ask you to", she continued. "STOP! Stay there", she said after a while, taking it off. You thought she was gonna give you her feet, but instead she had different plans. "Sniff it", Yuri ordered you, putting her heels on your nose, her smell giving you flashes of her performance, and getting you hard. You never thought someone's sweaty smell would turn you on, but it worked perfectly. "Now that you got something, I want you to give me something", Yuri set the tone; simply touching her clothes was just her doing you a favor. To her, you were just a disposable toy; she didn't need you; she was already a famous person, a member of the greatest girl group to ever grace the Asian continent.
Yuri gave you a paper, a non-disclose agreement. "What happens inside those walls will stay there", she threatened you as you looked at her tits. Truth be told, she was just playing with her mommy boss fantasy, but it was convincing enough for you to think it was real, as the paper looked very official with the logos of SM Entertainment plastered all over it. She kept smiling at you as you signed. "Let me see that", She checked your signature for like a second before ordering you to get down, putting her left foot on your face. "Smell my feet; smell it", she ordered. "Open your mouth; I wanna stick it in there. Got it?", she said as she shoved her toes down your throat. After a while, she takes it off and puts her left sole in your face, setting the tone that she won't give you what you want with ease.
"Beg for me, please", she continues. You plead, asking Yuri if you can kiss her beautiful foot. But she doesn't cave to your demands until you ask multiple times, pushing it back in your face by surprise, giving you very little time to react and kiss it. "Now compliment me, baby", she says, as you give her feet, legs, and thighs the best adjectives that come from your head. "Yes, mommy, your feet are perfect; they smell like cherries; your thighs are amazing; your tanned body is beautiful", you continue. "What else?" Yuri replies. "Oh, and the arch of your toes is perfect", you reply. Yuri looks unconvinced; she probably heard it multiple times in her life already. "Now tell me how perfect I am", she says. "Perfect from head to toe. A perfect 10. Your face is beautiful, your butt is amazing, and your legs are perfect", you tell Yuri, leading her to turn around and show it. She just nods as you keep complimenting her.
"If you think I'm that perfect, why don't you just shut up and lick my ass?", Yuri asks. You grab both of her buttcheeks and lick the crack of her ass with her thong still on, searching for spots of sweat. She then tells you to stop and looks into your eyes. "That's good, baby, but you'll have to give me much more", Yuri says, then orders you to get down and this time kiss her right foot. "Good slave, now beg me for the other one", she says, keeping her left foot she just shoved in your face away from you. "Please, mommy, let me kiss the other foot", you tell Yuri, to which she obliges. "Only twice", she tells you. "Good boy, now you earned the right to sniff my ass", she says with you still on the floor. 
You get on your knees, putting your nose right between her still sweaty butt cheeks. "That's right", she tells you. "What does it smell like?", she continues. "Roses", you reply. Yuri sees right between your lies; she's just too much of a seasoned veteran to get fooled by those cheap compliments. As she takes her panties off, she then orders, "I will make you lick my asshole so far and deep to please myself, not you, me. Now stick out that tongue". You oblige and give her rectum some very fast licks. "Calm down, baby", she says as you bury her face in her butthole. "You have 10 seconds", Yuri says and starts counting down, making you give her anus as many licks as you can before time expires. "Deeper", she demands just as the counting expires, taking your face off of it just as you started to hit the sweetest spots of her shithole.
"Now say thank you, mommy", Yuri says. You oblige as she sits back on the chair. "Keep thanking me, you sorry wimp", she says. "Thank you for letting me lickng your perfect asshole, mommy", you reply. "That's not convincing. Listing you little shit, I need to be convinced", Yuri plays hardball on you. "Thanks, mommy, you're so superior to me, the most beautiful woman on the planet", you tell Yuri, who grabs you harder by her handle as your eyes fixate on her hairy pussy. "If I'm the most beautiful woman on the planet, sure, I also have the most beautiful bush on the planet", she tells you. "Now tell me how much you want it", Yuri says. "I want it so bad", you say. "What are you going to do to my beautiful bush?", Yuri asks. "I'm going to smell your perfect and beautiful bush.".
Yuri shoves her unshaved pubes right on your face; you smell it as deep as you can, trying to find her clitorial hood under that forest. "Dig in", she tells you, choking you by tightening her handle as she pushes her hot body against your face. You give her pubes a few kisses before she sits on her chair once again, before getting up and shaking her ass in front of you, her cheeks hitting your forehead. "Get down", she says as she starts sitting on your face. "Are you enjoying this little private show, baby?", she asks. "Yes, mommy", you say once more. "SAY IT LOUDER", Yuri says. She can't help but look at your amazing thobbing bulging cock under your trousers, taking it off.
You let out a groan under her ass as Yuri's hands grabbed your huge cock. "Sniff my bush harder; I didn't tell you to stop", she says, her right hand slapping your cock left and right. "Now listen, slave, I'm gonna make you lick my pussy. I'm gonna count down from 20, and you'll have to stop it as soon as it hits zero", Yuri demands. "Yes, mommy", you reply. "GO!", she says and starts counting down while jerking your cock off and twerking her ass against your face. Once she is done counting, she smiles and spits on your cock, keeping a hold of it. "Now I want you to stare at my ass", she says, moving it up and down. "Don't touch it, just stare", she commands when you hold her waist, spreading her marvelous mommy pussy and gaping butthole in front of your face.
"Now I'm gonna make you beg for it", Yuri continues. "Beg for my pussy and asshole", she says. "Please", is all you reply. "No!", is her answer. "Why do you want it?", she continues. "Because your holes are perfect", you reply. "I want to show how much I love your tight holes, I need them so bad", you keep going. "Then breathe in my holes", she says as her anus lands on your nose and her pussy in your mouth. "Go ahead, lick my pussy and asshole", she says, giving you the green light. "You look so pathetic looking at my holes", Yuri laughs before denying you, standing up and asking you, "Tell me what you see.".
"The most perfect pussy in the world", you simp for her, looking at her beautiful slit just below her big bush, her small inner lips contrasting with her big outer lips. "Your amazing bush and sexy belly button", you continue. "But especially those perfect pussy lips", you continue as Yuri squats down and asks you, "So do you want this pussy in your face?", "Yes, I want it so bad", you answer back. I'd do anything for it; please, mommy, put that pussy in my face". You can't help yourself as you keep begging. Yuri sits on your chest and then demands, "Stick your tongue and lick my pussy, stupid little shit".
Yuri gives a few moans as you circle your tongue in her clit. "That's right, keep licking it", she says as she pushes your head against her pelvis. Just as you make her moan a little, Yuri paces herself, counting down from 10 as you lick her pussy, signaling that your fun with her folds will be short-lived. You lick her clit deep and hard, trying to enjoy every second. "It's so good, mommy", you say just as she pulls out. "You know what else is so good?", Yuri smiles. "You are completely tied up like the sorry simp you are", she says, tying both your feet and hands to her chair as you are still on the floor. "That's amazing!" she laughs, as you are completely tied up on the floor.
"So did you find the taste of my pussy good?", Yuri asks. "Yes, mommy", you say yet again. "Please let me taste it more, mommy", you continue. "I will, but it looks like you left some pages of our contract unsigned", Yuri tells you. She puts it on a clipboard and sits on it, watching you sign as she fingers her hairy pussy. Once you were done signing, she grabbed the clipboard and went back to sitting on your face, pushing you towards licking every part of her lower body. "Lick my belly, now my navel, now my bush, now my pussy, now my asshole, now my thighs, now my legs", she keeps going, asking you to worship what made her famous in the first place: her amazing body. "Come on, worship it like your life depends on it", she says. "That's enough; now please me", Yuri demands as you compliment her while she looks down on you from above, appreciating her dominance over you.
Yuri finally takes her bra off, getting fully naked. She unties you, but just briefly, telling you to move towards a table in her dressing room. She clears the table and ties your body to it again. "Come on, now I want you to take a look at this sexy body as I climb on top of you", she says. "I'm gonna tease you and make you wish until you beg to put that cock deep inside me", she continues. "Yes, mommy", the prospect of going inside a soshi goddess makes you thobbing; your cock pulsates as your whole blood flows into it. Yuri spits on it, teasing you from the start, her legs wrapped around your head as her pussy is right in your eyesight. "See that beautiful body, baby?", she asks. "Tell me what you wanna do to it. If you ever have the chance, that is", she laughs. "I wanna put my cock in that beautiful pussy", you reply. "What else?", she asks. "I want you to ride that cock until it breaks. I wanna be your sex slave and do anything for you, mommy", you say.
"Then today is your lucky day", Yuri says as she puts her right foot in your face and starts grinding her entrance against your throbbing cock. Just that initial friction almost makes you cum on the spot. "Lick the soles of my feet", she demands as your tip rubs against her hairy bush. "Pathetic slave", she calls you as your tongue licks her right foot. Yuri closes her legs, sticking both feet in her mouth, while her thighs press your cock and you lick her toes. Yuri starts sucking you off slowly. "Take a picture of me sucking that dick baby", she says, picking up her phone as you use your tied hands to take some snaps. "Let me see it", she picks it back, almost like a mirror as she continues to suck the soul out of you.
"How does it feel to get a blowjob from mommy?", Yuri asks. "Amazing", you reply as she covers your cock with her lipstick and slaps it against her tongue. Sitting on top of you, she holds your big member while frictioning her hairy pussy against it. The bikini marks on her tits contrast with her tanned skin, which is fully visible in your eyesight, turning you on even harder. "Oh my God, mommy, that feels so good", you say as Yuri picks up the pace and grinds harder. "Tell me how much you want to fill my pussy", she asks back. "I want it so much; please, mommy, let me get inside that beautiful pussy", you plead. "Tell me how honored you would feel", she continues. "Like I've never been before", you said as she continued to jerk your cock and grind on it.
Yuri slaps your cock against her entrance and then starts spitting on it. She gives you a few more strokes before teasing it around her clit, finally putting it halfway inside her. Her tight, warm mommy pussy immediately smashes your big cock, wrapping around it, and if not for her hands holding the bottom of your shaft, you would have exploded right there. Yuri only gives a pair of bounces before pulling out. "That feels so good", you say. "I bet it does", she replies, feeling your not fully ready to worship her pussy with your cock. She strokes you a few more times. "Tell me how bad you want my pussy", Yuri stares at you. "I'd do anything for it, mommy", you replied. "Anything?", she says. "Yes, anything, mommy", you confirm.
Yuri slides your cock inside her, riding you as she fingers herself. The sheer size of your cock impresses her. "You truly brought your A-game, baby", she says. "Oh yes, mommy, everything for you and your sexy body", you said between a few grunts. Yuri grinds her teeth as your length fills her cunt up, but as soon as she adjusts, she bounces on it perfectly, her hands resting on your chest and her tits moving up and down. She grabs your neck and the collar around it as she increases the pace of her riding, smiling right at you. Her moans are sexy and soft, as she engulfs your cock between her hairy pussy and chokes you with the handle like you were her dog.
"Good boy, that's right, take this fucking pussy", she says as she continues to bounce. Her tan lines look amazing now, and her body glows. Her perfect, round, and saggy tits continue to move at each thurst, the chains of her handle rattling as she places them close to her boobs. "Use me", you ask her as she grinds your cock against her insides before stomping her foot in your face. "I'm gonna count from 10 to 1 and then shove that foot inside of your mouth, and you're gonna suck on my toes", Yuri says as she keeps bouncing. Every time she counts down, your cock hits deep inside her. You lick her foot fingers as she rides you even more intensely. "Open your mouth", she says as the counting ends.
"Bark like a dog", Yuri demands as her cheeks smash against your hips, turning you fully into her pet. You oblige, leading her to laugh in your face. "Good boy, now tell me that I own you", she continues. "YOU OWN ME, MOMMY", you reply. "You're my little fucking bitch", she keeps going. "Yes, mommy", you say. "Yes, you are", Yuri tells you, bouncing even faster. "My little pathetic slave", she continues, her pussy continuing to ride your cock like crazy, enjoying every second of it. "You're my little sex toy", she exclaimed. "Yes, I am, mommy", you reply. "I'm gonna use that cock whenever I want", she says as she pulls out. "Time to sit on your face", Yuri tells you, suffocating you with her ass.
"You're so fucking pathetic", Yuri continues as she is on top of you for a 69, her boobs pressing against your body as she sucks you off once more. "Now, thank me for letting you eat my pussy", she says. "Thanks, mommy", you answer back. Yuri puts your cock back inside her as you groan and bark like an animal. "Wanna watch my ass bouncing on that dick?", she asks, riding you now in reverse cowgirl. "Sure, mommy", you say in between more barking and groaning. "Tell me I can to whatever I want to you, little bitch", Yuri continues to assert her dominance at every instant she can, and you always let her. "I want to make you my fucking sex slaves; you belong to me; your dick only exists to please myself; you're my bitch", Yuri trash talks you between more bounces as you watch her amazing ass stomp on your belly; she fingers herself like crazy and bounces her tits, depriving you of seeing it as she has her back turned to you. "Hahaha", she laughs. "I can't wait to milk that pathetic cock dry", she says in between many moans, enjoying it more and more. She then moves to a slower motion, pausing as she senses you are close.
"Not yet, slave", she says. "But you have been a good boy; I'm going to free you", Yuri continues as she unlocks your handcuffs, except for your dog collar. "Now turn around", she says, placing her body against the table and spreading her legs, letting you insert your cock in missionary. She moans as you thurst in and out of her, fingering her pussy as she gives you a privileged view from above of her body. "Don't cum, or I'm gonna chop that dick off", she threatens you. You keep fucking her as she enjoys herself while letting you have a moment for yourself, but not without stopping the trash talking. "That's it; keep going, you little simp; give me that sex slave dick", she tells you as you push it deep inside her. "That's so fucking good", she finally praises you after you did so much to please her as you continued pounding her pussy. "Keep giving me that little sex slave cock", she says, moaning and fingering her pussy even harder. "Put this pathetic cock deeper inside me", she continues. "FUCKKKKK, YESSSS, AHHHH!", she screams. "Tell me that I own you, baby", Her words make you fuck her even harder.
"It's not your cock anymore; it's my cock; I own it", Yuri continues. You mate her the fastest you can, wishing you could breed her right there, but she doesn't know if she's giving you an empty threat or actually means it. Either way, you continue to fuck her like crazy, feeling her sexy body as best as you can. "You belong to me, ahhh ahhh ahhh fuck, yes yes yes, fuck me fuck fuck me just like that", you pound her hard. "Make me fucking cum, slave", she demands, moaning like a big bitch. "AH AH AH OH FUCK YES, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING", As Yuri climaxes and clenches her mommy pussy around your cock, you pull out, afraid of cumming inside her, as her juices flow out and cover your shaft. "I think you earned an extra round", she says.
Yuri puts herself on her knees and lets you have some role-reversal. Watching her on all fours is probably the best you ever saw her, especially because her bikini marks are very easy for you to see. "Remember, tell me when you're gonna cum, slave; otherwise, you're gonna regret it", Yuri says as you put your cock in her pussy for one final time, your hips slapping against her ass cheeks. "AHHHHH OHHHHH Fuck fuck fuck, oh slave fuck me", she says. You clap her cheeks hard, making her moan intensely on the floor. "Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhh, ahhhh, fuck yes", is all she can say now. "Your dick is so fucking good", she tells you for the first time. "Keep going; fuck me just like that", Her trash talk gives way to incentive words until she says the words you were long waiting for.
"Give me your slave cum; I want it. Right in my honey thighs", she tells you, as you pull out of her pussy and start fucking her sexy thighs, your meat grinds against it at the fastest you can. It turns out you weren't gonna last for long anyway, as just one minute of your cock being sandwiched by Yuri's sexy thighs is enough for you to burst all over them, white goo covering her tanned skin all over her sexy legs. "Now eat it, slave, clean your hot mommy", Yuri has one last demand from you as you clean her thighs with your tongue, eating that straight from her thighs. Yuri wanted a sample of it for herself, so you swapped a bit into her mouth, which she swallowed with ease. "Now it's your turn, slave", she tells you, making you eat your own sperm as the final act.
"Time's up", she said right after. Your session clocked out at exactly 40 minutes, even though for you it felt more like 4 hours. Yuri gifted you a briefcase. "Look how nice mommy is; now get out", she said, almost like it was just a regular fuck for her, even though it was the most special you've ever had. You followed her orders, starting to dress back up while in her dressing room. "I said get out", Yuri asserted herself, meaning you had to go to the final humiliation of dressing up while still leaving the arena. You didn't open her briefcase but rather waited until the hotel to do so; as you did, there was a letter there.
"From mommy to my little pathetic sex slave, thanks for coming to my fanmeeting. I've known for years that you've been one of my biggest fans, but you never had the chance to meet me. So today, I fulfilled your longtime wish. I hope you enjoyed it, and here is a little gift for you so you can always remember me. Signed. Kwon Yuri". And what a gift it was, with lots of pictures, videos, and performances of Yuri's long career for you to enjoy. Mommy really knows how to take care of her thirsty, horny babies, doesn't she?
Doing some SNSD smut from my longtime ult Yuri, got this request quite early but left it dormant for months because of my schedule, but I always had her fanmeeting performances in Manila in mind to write and even though it's been a while, I decided to publish it cause I really liked the idea of her being a dominant mommy.
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fleursbending · 2 years
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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. | Sully Family
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : instead of lo’ak being the one diving into the sinking ship, it was you - neteyam’s twin sister. pushed by the sheer amount of adrenaline in your system, you desperately search for your family. knowing you cannot handle losing anymore of them as well.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter (neteyam's twin sister)
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : heavy on the dad!jake x reader & brotherly lo'ak in this. is this me trying to stake my claim as becoming one of your fave sully!daughter writers? yes, it is!! seriously uhmmm prep your tissues for your daddy issues! yes, that was a purposeful rhyme. & sorry didn't rlly proofread this!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, mentions of grief, loss, death, protective and emotionally exhausted reader :(, ure gonna cry because i love pain. hurt/comfort, angst.
𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Tsmuke - sister, Tsmukan - brother, Iarsä - Y/n's Ilus name, Yawntutsyìp - darling or little loved one.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3k words !
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hi my beloveds! thank you for all the support on this <3 part 2 can be read: here!
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𝐘/𝐍'𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, the cries of her mother muffled to her ears that lay flat on her head. Her other half, her twin brother. The eldest, born only 7 minutes apart, was no longer there. There had come a time when his presence was so natural, no questions asked - no alarming feeling. He was always her shadow, and if not. Neteyam was there in an instant at her beck and call. 
They were both spitting images of their mother, they even shared her same deep spiritual connection with Eywa. Even their songcords aligned with each other. Y/n remembers then, how her mother had said such occurrences only really happen with twins. That in itself was a rarity for their clan. 
Now he was gone, yet she remained. The shadow that loomed over her, escaped as the Eclipse crept up on them.
You blink once, twice. Wiping the tears that you didn’t even realize were streaming down your face. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Lo’ak blankly gazing down at his hands which were coated in Neteyam’s blood. She scoots closer to him then, ripping the fringes of her loin-cloth off and dipping it into the water. 
If Lo’ak notices the shakiness of her hands, he doesn’t comment on it. It feels like his tongue had been stapled to the roof of his mouth at that very moment. Alas, his tender heart squeezes a fraction as you use the fabric to try to wipe away the remnants of blood.
A rough voice coming from your father cuts through the sentimental moment.
“Where are your sisters?” He’s not intentionally glaring, but his eyes alone felt like he was picking through your soul.
“Your sisters, where are they?” He repeats, more urgency detected in his tone now.
“I don’t know.” Lo’ak mumbles, every part of him looking lost.
Your mother's cries of terror grow in volume then. 
“Where are they!” Jake bellowed, time was of the essence. Now more than ever. 
“Dad,” Y/n whines out, wishing for him to just take a moment. 
His eyes meet yours for a moment, before breaking away. He couldn’t look at you right now, doing so would make him lose all of his resolves. Jake had to stay locked, just for a few more moments. Then he’ll have the chance to mourn, to bring you into his arms. To apologize for how now you must live the same faith he had to endure and suffer through.
“On the ship, they are tied up on the ship.” Tsireya wavers, her grip on Neteyam’s leg not letting up.
Spider's mouth moves, but you don’t hear a thing. Turning back to your brother, you hover over him. Neytiri leans into you as she cradles him to her chest. 
Jake gets your mom’s attention, and by doing so she passes Neteyam to you. Y/n freezes up, feeling how cold he is. Seeing how pale he is. This isn’t her mighty brother, it was a shell of him. 
As Neytiri flies away on her Ikran, the sound of its wings breaks you out of your reverie. Gently, you lay him back down on the rock before pushing yourself up. Staggering over to Lo’aks side, he pulls you into him. 
Usually, he’d nag about your height difference, but this time he used it to his advantage to briefly tuck his head into your shoulder. 
Jake looks to Lo’ak. “Both of you, stay with your brother.” 
Lo’ak takes a step forward, bringing you with him. 
“But dad, I want to go with you,” Lo’ak whispers. 
“Please, dad,” Y/n begs, unable to fathom sitting by her deceased twin while her sisters were still in harm's way.
Jake shakes his head, “You’ve done enough.”
“No, dad,” Lo’ak breaks. A part of him cracks, the guilt and shame consuming him.
Y/n places a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him some support. 
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that, brother,” Y/n spoke, catching on to where his mind was heading.
There you watch as your dad and Spider become one with the water. Y/n moves back to kneel down beside Tsireya, as she cradles Neteyam’s face and gives him a light kiss on his forehead.
Lo’ak takes one last glance at his brother before reluctantly tugging on your arm. 
Y/n regards him with uncertainty. Before you can question him though, he caresses the side of Tsireya’s face for a second. “Stay with him.”
Tsireya flounders, “No!”
He rushes to the edge of the rock, and you can only wince as you apologize to Tsireya for your and Lo’aks actions. 
“I’m sorry, Tsireya.” 
She tries to shout for you guys to come back, but it’s too late. You’re already both calling for your Ilu’s as you jump into the ocean. 
Iarsä swam right beneath you, and in an instant, you are gripping her tightly and making tsaheylu. Deep in your brain, you wondered if Neteyam’s Ilu felt the loss you do. What about his Ikran? Oh, Eywa.
“Tsmuke!” Lo’ak called for you as you started to lag behind a little. 
Quickening your pace, you moved by him. His worried eyes flittered over to yours.
“Tsukan, I am fine.” You tried to reassure him, but you know he saw through it all. 
His lips pulled down into a frown, but he knew now wasn’t the time to comment back to you.
Either way, he is interrupted by the shocked gasp that leaves your mouth. The ship isn’t too far from you guys now, but it’s beginning to flip over and sink down. 
Lo’ak guided you closer to the ship, haphazardly avoiding miscellaneous floating objects. 
“That’s Spider and Kiri!” Lo’ak blurted out, his finger pointing at two figures bobbing up and down in the water. 
Y/n nods, as Lo’ak yips to alert them that they are here. 
“Bro!” A light flashes in your eyes, and it’s coming from Spider. 
A sigh of relief escapes you seeing Kiri alright, but you can still see how distraught she looks. It physically hurts you not to tell her what had just happened, but time was escaping you all even more quickly.
Kiri watches the Ship fully engulfed by the ocean. She trembled, “Mom and dad are down there, in the ship!”
An alarm rings like an insistent bell in your mind. Of course, no wonder they were alone.
But where is Tuk? Y/n’s conscience is on overdrive, the exhaustion is gnawing at her heavily. She’d get nowhere like this, tackle one thing at a time. That’s what she needs to do. 
“Grab on- Y/n!” Lo’ak protested as you descended further into the murky waters. Except it was too late, she was already gone. 
Y/n’s eyes squinted as the water pulled at her skin due to the high speeds she was going at. In spite of that, it did not matter. Nothing mattered more than saving whatever was left of her family. 
Darting into the first opening of the ship you are able to squeeze through, not without realising the spaces were far too cramped to navigate your Ilu through. With that, you reluctantly release her. 
The further you descended, the more effort it took to be able to examine your surroundings. You can feel your chest starting to tighten just a little. However, Y/n notices a faint outline of an avatar body ahead of her. 
It takes every willpower within her to not weep at the sight of your dad twitching against a part of the collapsing ship. Jumping into action, wrapping both of your arms around one of his. Then you tug as hard as you can, back from where you had just come from.
You recalled the air pocket you encountered not too long ago. Yes, that will work for now. 
The closer you grew to your destination, the more your dad fidgeted in your tight grasp. Then, his arms reached up. 
Y/n and Jake exhale as they break through the surface.
“Dad?” She whimpers her heart, sinking as Jake struggles to catch his breath. 
He clutches onto the side of the wall, his chest rising up and down far too rapidly. 
“Dad, please. Take a few deep breaths!” She falters when trying to approach him, scared to jolt him even more.
He groans, eyes bleary, “Neteyam?”
It felt like an axe had been wedged in your heart. You’ve dealt with far too much in a span of few hours.
“No, dad. It’s Y/n”
“Oh, Y/n…you just look so much like him.” He struggles to say.
Y/n clenches her eyes closed in despair. She knew that voice, it was the one he’d use to try to weave out of something. Sugarcoating, he had told you when you were younger. 
She couldn’t help but weigh on the thought that he probably thought he was dead and with Eywa. 
Sighing, her hand presses into her face. “Sorry, I know. You and ma always say that.” 
In a blink of an eye, profound guilt encapsulates her very being. Once again, Y/n has been reminded of Neteyam. What she has lost, what she must now grieve.
Gulping, her voice stammered “I’m sorry, sir. His death was all my fault. I should have done better.”
Jake’s heart lurches at your words, being reminded of Tommy. 
“Focus, just focus on getting out.” He coughs as the lights behind you flicker. The ship's loud groans rattle in both of your ears. 
“Okay, okay,” Y/m mumbles to herself. Analyzing her surroundings, she realizes the water is rising at a quicker pace. Dammit.
“We’re losing air pockets, dad. Come on, let’s go,” She insisted.
Jake lets out sounds of pain as he moves into the corner.
“You know your way out?” He inquires. Before you look at him with a scrutinizing gaze he takes you in with all his pride. His daughter, his first-ever daughter. 
Ah, there it is. Furrowed brows and all. 
“I think so. But dad, you’re gonna have to hold your breath for a while. Okay?” She responded, ignoring the ache in her limbs. 
You lean into him then, thumbing the blood seeping out from one of the cuts on his face. 
Just like he’d do to you when you were little, an action so simple whenever you’d hurt yourself. Something you inhabited from him. 
That’s exactly why he can’t keep you here. You still had so much more to live for.
“I can’t make it, but you can. You can, you can.” 
You speak over the top of him, anguish spreading across your facial features. “No, no-no, dad!”
The tone in your voice pitches, conveying the desperation you felt right at that moment. 
“I refuse, I can’t lose you too. Not you, dad.” She says vehemently. So much finality had been wrapped into that sentence, and he knew that you weren’t going to move. 
If he can’t make it, then you weren’t leaving his side. You’re going to stay right here.
He rapidly blinks his eyes, finally clearing his vision properly. 
Ignoring the pounding from his head, he looks at you. Truly examining you. 
The face you hold at that moment is the deepest wound to strike him yet from today. 
Just now, he can see how mature you’ve become in a span of less than a day. It left him with such scorching indignation. No kid should have to grow up this quickly, but the unique circumstances brought upon your family had forced you to do so.
There are tears running down your face, and the seawater should mask it well. But he’s your father, he knows. He can see you clutching something tightly in your hands then. It feels like cinder blocks had been pushed against his gut when he recognizes it to be one of Neteyam’s armbands. 
Y/n follows his eyes, unclenching her first. He was right.
She swallows, lips trembling. “It was floating in the ship close to where you were before, maybe it was a sign from him. He was letting me know you were close. I didn’t even realize when it floated into my hand. It must have slipped off before he…”
A deep frown settles on Jake’s face whilst hearing you get choked up. He kicks his legs, ignoring the throbbing feeling spreading through his body. 
He leans his head on top of yours. 
“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry.” He coos.
You shook your head, forcing yourself to calm down. 
After he pressed his lips to your forehead, you lean back from him.
“We’re running out of time. Okay, you need to be really calm. Breathe down from here.” You press your hand to his lower chest. Mimicking the breathing you learned not too long ago from your dear friend Tsireya.
He follows you, pursing his lips. Inhaling, exhaling.
You close your eyes.
“The way of water has no beginning and no end.
The sea is around you and in you. 
The sea is your home before your birth, and after your death.”
Your eyes open, watching Jake take your words in. He tries his absolute hardest to ease his mind, just like you had done moments ago.
Good, he’s doing good.
Y/n continues. 
“The sea gives, and the sea takes. 
Water connects all things.
Life to death, darkness to light.”
The water is now up to your chin, even as you tilt your head up.
“Dad, you can do this. Please.” 
He nods his head, “I’m with you, Y/n.”
The words bring you great comfort, your heart now being able to lessen some of its burdens.
Y/n finally smiles. 
“Okay, last breath. I love you, dad.” 
He winces at the prickling pain but manages to give you a smile in return.
“I love you too, my daughter.”
With that, both of you breathe in before going underwater.
You start the treacherous journey out of here, doing your best to retrace the directions you had mapped out in your mind. Making sure to occasionally check back on your dad as you hurdle through random objects that stuck out. 
Y/n looks behind her shoulder once again, easing up when she sees Jake not too far behind. 
With a motion of your hand, you wordlessly say “follow me”. A reminder that maybe wasn’t needed, but you had to feed your dad some courage. 
Your chest begins to constrict a little, but you try to keep your mind elsewhere. 
You thank Eywa as you see the exit, holding on to the bar as you reach your hand out.
Jake latches on to it as you swim through the opening. There you both try to seamlessly get out from the remainder of the ship. The gap between you and the surface lessening. 
But Jake begins to slow down significantly. Immediately worried, you wrap your arms around him. Chugging over your limit as you pull him up with you.
Y/n starts to hear the muffled noises of her dad starting to choke. 
No, no, no. We’re almost there.
A gush of movement is felt from behind you both.
Lo’ak is holding onto Payakan’s fin, using his free arm he darts out to grab your elbow. He tugs you to him. 
There, you and Jake are able to hold on to the Tulkun for further momentum. 
The cool air nips at your cheeks as you finally break through the water. 
“Hang on, both of you! Breathe, breathe.” Lo’ak urges as he quickly holds your face to see if you’re alright. 
Y/n bows her head and then goes to personally thank Payakan for saving their lives.
“I see you, son.” She hears, there you gaze as Lo’ak and Jake share a bittersweet moment. 
However, right behind them, you see familiar figures moving closer to you all.
“Ma Jake!” Neytiri called.
“Dad, dad!” Tuk cried.
“Mom!” You and Lo’ak gushed.
“Come here, I have you. It’s Okay.”
“Tuk, Kiri.” She whispers to herself, finally allowing relief to invade her senses.
Your mother leans over, squeezing both your and Lo’aks hands. 
But you needed more.
Pushing off of Paykan's fin, you swim over to where Neytiri and Tuk was. 
Neytiri grabs you swiftly, letting you fall into the makeshift circle.
“Oh, my yawntutsyìp. My sweet, sweet child.” She mumbles, repeatedly kissing your cheek. 
She could not even begin to fathom the loss you have yet to fully process and grieve for. 
Another person in the Sully family tree had lost a sibling today. 
“Tsmukan, Tsmuke.” Kiri too leans forward in concern. 
You just give her a solemn smile, grateful that almost all of you were safe and alive.
She watches her parents embrace before her eyes loom over the empty gap in their family huddle.
It felt like only yesterday how Neteyam would always pinch her and Lo’aks ears, “Why are you guys always forgetting our family meetings?”
Huddling closer to one another, while unspoken you each know this event was something that would drastically change all of your lives forever.
“Sully’s stick together. That was their greatest weakness, and their greatest strength.”
“Thank you, great mother,” Kiri speaks up into the sky.
“Yes.” Neytiri echoes. 
Lo’ak gazed at you, then to the sky above. 
Y/n followed his actions. She was hoping to each mighty being above, that Neteyam was safe and sound. No longer in pain or danger. That was the least her dear brother deserves. 
As everyone loosened their holds, your parents did the opposite. Instead, they brought you into their arms.
There, they cried with you. Finally having a chance to mourn the loss of your twin, their son.
From above and with Eywa, Neteyam looked down at you all with questioning eyes.
“Why are they all crying, great mother?” He asked, not being able to understand the entirety of the situation that occurred before him.
Eywa can only give him a saddened smile. 
“Because my child, they are grateful to have known you.”
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𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡
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rs-hawk · 2 days
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Nobleman Minotaur Part Three
After your official debut, Minotaur started avoiding you even more. It hurt. You tried to find reasons to be around him, but he always found an excuse to leave quickly. You had thought the two of you had grown closer, especially after the dance you shared. You thought maybe he liked you, but maybe you were wrong.
One day, you were walking through the garden, lazily picking grapes from the vine, with Pasiphae appearing in front of you. "Your Rarity!" you gasped, quickly dipping your head, grapes dropping from your hands as you grabbed up your dress to curtsy.
The immoral laughed, setting her hand under your chin to draw it up. "No need for such formalities, Princess. I've come to check in on your family, and my son. Have you seen him?"
Your face fell as she took her hand back. "I don't know, ma'am. Minotaur has been avoiding me lately."
"What did you say?" her voice sounded hard, angry even. It sent a chill down your spine.
"Minotaur has been avoiding me," you whispered, your throat felt tight as you repeated your sentence.
"Is that what you all have been calling him? No wonder he has been avoiding you," while she didn't mean it as cruelly as it came across, it still struck your heart.
"Is that not his name? I thought-," you started, only to be cut off by a wave of her hand.
"That is the name my last husband called him. The name given to him by nurse maids to try to appease him, as if he were Hera and my lovely boy was Heracules. No, Minotaur is not his name, and never had been," she sneered, looking towards the building where your love had been residing.
"Why would he never correct me, or anyone?" your voice quivered as she began to take long strides towards her son's home, and you followed obediently.
"Asterion has always been a curious child," she paused, sparing a glance over her shoulder at you. "Even curse aside."
"Asterion? Is that his true name?" you asked as you rolled the name on your tongue. It tasted like a warm blanket and honey tea.
"Yes," she said with a smile, coming to the stairs leading up to his doors. "A strong name for a strong boy."
Lifting her hand to the door, she rapped lightly on the door. It only took a moment for her son to open it, though his eyes went immediately to you. Under his gaze, your face flushed. It was so intense. How could he look at you like that and then not even want to speak a word to you?
"Oh, am I interrupting something?" Pasiphae grinned, looking between the two. "I thought you said my shy son had been avoiding you."
"He has been," you muttered, your cheeks glowing redder.
"Mother," he groaned, though you thought maybe you saw a blush under his fur.
"Alright, alright. I won't push," she smiled as she made her way inside as he side stepped to let the two of you in. "I just wanted to check in on my sweet boy."
"I am doing well. Y/N and her family are exceedingly kind to me," he said in a quiet voice, side eyeing you.
"And yet you haven't even told the poor girl your real name. Are you ashamed of it? I agonized over your name," she puffed up her cheeks playfully, glaring at her son.
"Of course not, but everyone already knows me as Minotaur, so it just felt strange. It's not like anyone actually referred to me as Asterion... before," his eyes were downcast, his tail and ears drooping.
"I like it," you chimed in, rubbing your arm nervously. "I think it suits you."
"Thank you," he muttered back just as shyly.
"I think I will continue my visit with the King and check back in later," his mother nearly purred as she gave you a slight shove before stepping back towards the door. "You two should get better acquainted, I think. I can trust the two of you unchaperoned, can't I?"
Minotaur, no, Asterion, glared at her as she rushed away, laughing lightly. He didn't understand how she could be borderline cruel to her. She knew him better than anyone else. She had to know how his heart had always ached for love and kindness, and here you were, all of that embodied. You looked up at him through your dark lashes, the blush finally subsiding. Gods, it was such a gorgeous sight.
"So, you haven't been avoiding me. Then what has this all been about?" you said in what you hoped was a playful tone.
He was definitely blushing under that fur. There was no doubt in your mind about that with the way that he was acting. "I have been trying to be respectful."
"How so?"
"You are a Princess. It's not as if I am really deserving of the kind of attention I... well," he ran his fingers through his hair as he looked away. "Well, the kind of attention that I wish you would give me. I might have a title, but most will always see me as a monster."
"What kind of attention do you wish that I would give you?" you were breathless, your blood pounding in your ears. He shrugged and didn't respond. "I don't see a monster when I look at you. I see a man. A man who has been through so much. More than anyone else could imagine. A very handsome man."
His eyes met yours quickly as he jerked his head up to look at you. "Please, don't say things you don't mean."
"I would never," your voice was strained. Your mouth dry.
Cautiously, you took a step closer to him. He let out a soft groan, his brows furrowing together. "Princess, you don't know what you're saying when it comes to a creature like me."
"What does it mean for me to say it to a man like you?" you whispered, taking another step closer to him. You reached out, your fingers just barely grazing his muscular forearm. "Tell me."
There was silence for several seconds before he reached out to you, cupping your face in his large, calloused hands. You were able to look up at him, your heart racing. His dark eyes seemed impossibly deep. After a moment, he lowered his head. Your eyes fluttered shut with anticipation. You gripped his forearm now, drawing him closer to you. You could feel his breath on your lips. Your entire body was shaking with excitement.
"Princess," he sighed, and you could almost feel his lips moving as he spoke.
"Well, that was a quick visit. Y/N, your father is waiting for you," Pasiphae's voice filled the air as she opened the door.
Asterion jumped back, snorting with clear irritation. "Mother, we were-."
"Doing something that a chaperon would fully allow, I'm sure. Now, Y/N, I do believe you would be interested in what your father and I discussed," the immortal smiled at you, her eyes creasing as it brightened her face.
"Of course," you bowed your head, casting a look at Asterion before exiting, with your heart still nearly beating out of your chest.
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heckyeahponyscans · 10 months
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Lauren Faust originally imagined all her G1 childhood faves in a My Little Pony reboot. So why was Applejack the only one who made it in? We don't know for sure, but here is my theory.
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IMO Hasbro went into the MLP reboot wanting each main character to be a different color of the rainbow, similar to TMNT or Power Rangers. (Which is a big improvement over Core 7 G3 when THREE out of seven characters were pink.)
So let's look at the initial G1 crew:
Sparkler - blue Twilight - pink Surprise - white Firefly - pink Applejack - orange Posey - yellow
Already we can see some pink is doubled up. But just wait.
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Pinkie Pie was THE face of G3 My Little Pony and Rainbow Dash was nearly as popular. Hasbro made big versions of these ponies, they made small versions of them, they made plush baby versions, and they were immortalized on birthday cards, balloons, ornaments, and other merch. I was so disappointed when I heard Pinkie Pie would be in G4 because I was tired of seeing her, ha ha.
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But Hasbro was not tired of selling merchandise of their most popular ponies, so I'm sure one of their first notes was "We absolutely need Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash in the new lineup."
Their personality changes wouldn't matter to Hasbro. What mattered was their marketability as toys / designs.
So Firefly, Twilight, and Sparkler were now out of the lineup, due to also being pink and blue.
Now we have:
Rainbow Dash - blue Pinkie Pie - pink Surprise - white ??? Applejack - orange Posey - yellow
But, uh oh! Pinkie Pie and Surprise both have balloon symbols. So Surprise also must die leave.
IMO the names being trademarked / easily defendable was important to Hasbro, and they already had hundreds of G3 names / designs at their disposal. And also they needed a purple pony for this lineup.
So Twilight Twinkle (later renamed Twilight Sparkle) joined the crew and became a unicorn.
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Rainbow Dash - blue Pinkie Pie - pink ??? Twilight Twinkle / Sparkle - purple Applejack - orange Posey - yellow
G1 Glory's colors (white with purple hair) then replaced blue Sparkler. But wait!! Both Glory and Twilight Sparkle-Twinkle have stars on their rumps! So Rarity retained Sparkler's symbol of diamonds.
I don't know why they didn't use one of the G1 names, except perhaps that "Rarity the Unicorn" was already a Hasbro trademark, having been a G3 character.
Rainbow Dash - blue Pinkie Pie - pink Rarity - white Twilight Sparkle - purple Applejack - orange Posey - yellow
So why was Posey changed to Fluttershy? In my opinion she was switched up quite late because the original plot of Dragonshy had her as an earth pony, which is why she was struggling to get up the mountain. (That's why they had to add the bit about Fluttershy's wings locking up from fear.)
In addition to wanting a variety of colors, I think Hasbro wanted two of each main pony species. Originally Pinkie Pie was slated to be a pegasus, but then she was switched to an earth pony. So Yellow Pony was shunted into a pegasus slot instead.
Basically, I think Posey got replaced with Fluttershy because it was thought that butterfly symbols were more befitting for a pegasus. Plus girls love animals and if they needed plots revolving around growing plants, they already had Applejack on deck.
So in the end Applejack was the only G1 pony who remained in G4, not because Hasbro had any special hold on her, but because she had a pretty unique name and she wasn't a repeated color.
Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk
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fujii-draws · 4 months
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VERY long Ribbons/Grovyle tangent cause I do not talk about them nearly enough.
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[Instead of the usual, “Hero finding a young Treecko in the future.” It’s switched around to “What if Grovyle found Hero when they were young.”]
~The Past~
—————
-Grovyle was going on one of his usual dungeon crawls to stock up on items— until he heard nearby sniffling. It’s there in that moment where he finds Ribbons; hiding under the stump of a hollow tree curled up in a ball. The sight of a small, terrified girl burned in the back of the wood gecko’s mind.
He lowered himself to the ground, his snout and head poking out as he got a good look at the human— Something that made her reel back and startled her; before Grovyle offered her a smile. Something the stoic grass-type rarely ever did. Coaxing her to come out.
And although very hesitantly, she did. Slowly coming out before he extended a hand towards her. Helping her outside the stump.
Grovyle didn’t know why… but seeing her so disheveled and terrified… it reminded the grass-type of himself when he was a Treecko. He decides to then to take Ribbon’s under his wing. Holding her hand as he walked her back to his main hideout… with the company of two other Pokémon.
-He introduced the small human to the pink fairy and ghost-type. Celebi was overwhelmingly cheerful. So much so that her mischievous energy rubbed off on Ribbons in the future. Much to Grovyle and Dusclops(and eventually Dusknoir’s) dismay…
But it was also probably why Ribbons made it her mission to use this newfound ability from the fairy-type to do the impossible— to get Grovyle to smile. A rarity in which even the time-traveling pixie and cyclopean ghost never managed to accomplish. Ribbons remembered how the grass-type done so just to comfort her during their first meeting… and she wanted to see it again.
-She tried many times with her antics, only to end in failure. Barely making a dent in the grass-type’s stoic demeanor. The first time she managed to get a chuckle made the other two stare wide-eyed towards the snickering grass-type— and back at the human, somehow being the only one to ever make him emote so much. She didn’t know why he tried to hide his smile. She loved it. (And Grovyle did not overhear this detail and began to open up only specifically around her because of it. Nope.) (and it’s not a power she holds over him for many years to come.)
(That isn’t to say Ribbon’s didn’t slightly rub off on him too, with her naivety and innocent, trusting behavior. Grovyle being much, much more reserved and cautious… before she came along.)
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-Dusclops… was interested. A human? In the future no less? It was unheard of.
…But he also thought that Ribbons would be a detriment to their group with how… little and runt sized she’d been, barely surviving as is. Acting rather closed off towards the human at first, not trying to get attached. That is until she begins seeking Dusclops out. Trying to befriend the slightly large mummy-looking Pokémon. Although slowly— she ends up winning him over. The Beckon Pokémon now having unintentionally formed a bond with the weakest link in their quartet due to how… oddly endearing she was. A mistake he’d repeat yet again in the present.
Even with her dimensional scream ability making Ribbons a somewhat useful assest to the team— the three take on the roll of her guardians in a weird way. Dusclops being the one to fret the most over her despite his dismissive behavior towards her in the beginning (hm.)
And then there’s Grovyle.
The one who probably spent the most time with her. He saw just how terrified and scared she was of the world around her. Grovyle tried his best to teach her how to survive— training her physically. (as Dusclops taught her mentally/intellectually)
Something Grovyle started to notice was how her demeanor changed when the grass-type was close. Acting almost… braver? Confident? It was like she was drawing her strength from him… something that made the grass-type a little emotional as her confidence grew more with each day. (She told him as much. Hoping some day she could be a role model to someone the same way Grovyle was to her.)
…He also noticed that the humans were also really susceptible to the cold, much like his cold-blooded lizard self—the brunette-haired girl having no real source of warmth around her neck… Grovyle dug through his matted Treasure bag, asking for her to come over. Before tying on a brown, Patsy ribbon around her neck. An item that she’d grow to love and cherish for many, many years.
The human girl absolutely adored the gift, thanking Grovyle before hugging him suddenly. Running off to show the other two her newfound item.
-She’d fidget and re-tie it whenever it slightly loosened around her neck… it was then the grass-type Pokémon finally decided on a name for her. Up until that point, she didn’t have a name— the other three opting to call her things like “human girl” “sweetie” or “kid/kiddo” (Dusclops, Celebi, and Grovyle in that order.)
So when Grovyle decided that her new name would be “Ribbons”… she kept it.
(this also explained why when inside of Wigglytuff’s room… Ribbons stared at the Green Aura Bow, before rejecting the item harshly. Her claws gripping onto the brown scarf around her neck.) (…although the color of the bow comforted her)
-The two end up forming an unspoken familial bond. Ribbons seeing Grovyle as her older brother… and the grass-type did her baby sister. This was further solidified by the way Ribbons followed him everywhere and copied his mannerisms. All the way down to his scrunched up, embarrassed face. (Something that greatly entertained the other two Pokémon.) Even if Grovyle wasn’t the best at showing how much she meant to him with his sternness for her to stay hidden and close whenever they traveled, or for her to stop goofing off so much, or his relatively stoicalness… Ribbons knew he did so because of how much he cared. He cared too much. Not wanting anything bad happening to her to the point that he’d more often than not sacrifice things to his detriment, but for her benefit. (Offering her all of the apples he found, taking the brunt of the damage from vicious Pokémon… ) It was one of the main things the two argued over.
-This… was also something Ribbons picked up on and inherited besides his courage. Something that Grovyle never forgave himself for. He never wanted her to adopt his self-destructive, reckless behavior.
-Another thing was his inability to tell her the full truth. He never wanted to scare her with the information of their disappearances. So the grass-type never told Ribbons (and made sure the other two promised him to never do so aswell.) (Until Dusknoir promptly breaks said promise out of desperation to tell Ribbons the gravity of their situation after the Stoneship fight. Grovyle glaring daggers towards the Ghost-type before hearing Ribbon’s quiet, yet terrified “W-What..?” Falling back on her old fears when she was once human—Grovyle taking his attention fully off of Dusknoir to try and comfort her.)
But even after any heated argument. Grovyle will find the human girl coming back to sleep right next to him on his hay bed, still very much frustrated with the lizard… but not pushing her away when she snuggled up to him. Grovyle reciprocated the hug right back— putting his head over hers.
Out of her relationships with the three, her bond with Grovyle was the most unbreakable.
…So when Darkrai threw the attack that disoriented the two, Grovyle gripping Ribbons’s arm as tightly as possible. His claws beginning to even tear into her skin. (A scar on her paw that never went away. She uses it as a reminder to show the woodland gecko how hard he tried to save her whenever he felt guilty.) Trying so desperately to not lose her— even if it meant being thrown out of the passage of Time aswell—
…It’s Ribbons who lets go, smiling up so brokenly at her older brother, before disappearing out the passage. And the grass-type can only watch in horror, as the self-sacrificial behavior Ribbons inherited from him came back to bite Grovyle in the worst way imaginable.
By the time Grovyle lands in the present— his claws are trembling wildly. Not even realizing his own tears began to mix in with the rain from the thunderstorm.
——————
~The Present~
——————
When he’s collecting the Time Gears alone— the desperation of it all comes back full force. If he lost her, the least he can do is finish this mission. For the future. For her.
-When Grovyle sees Ribbons for the first time in the Northern Desert, he doesn’t recognize her as an Eevee. But the item around her neck and voice both sound so eerily similar. As if this random Pokémon was haunting him for his past failures. If anything, the similarities make Grovyle even more angry towards the quadraped Pokémon.
-Crystal lake… really sucked. Before, Ribbons didn’t know what to feel about Grovyle. On one hand, he was a wanted criminal. Threatening the lives of every single Pokémon. But on the other hand… she felt so… sad? And guilty? Why would she feel guilty? And why was it that he was apologizing every single time for every little thing he’d done? Like he’d lost his confidence in his abilities? Why does it matter. He’s a horrible, rotten— no good Pokémon…
-It was when Ribbons had to helplessly watch as he nearly killed Aimilios that her resolve did a complete 180°. The Eevee being prepared to do whatever to took to get him caught. Joining the cloaked ghost in the library whenever she could, (even if she wasn’t as smart as the Great Dusknoir or her Riolu partner. She wanted to at least give them company and be there for moral support.)
And when he’s finally… finally caught. Tied up as the Sableye walked him through the town as they cheered… Ribbons isn’t celebrating. She should be. She should be happy. So why does she feel a horrible gut feeling when their eyes meet in the crowd? And he looks seconds away from breaking down…?
-
-The whole future arc is a rollercoaster of emotions for the Eevee. Although she’s immediately with Grovyle on the plan to help him escape— she does not trust him so quick.
-No. That time was over. The second Dusknoir tried to kill them, both her (and soon Aimilios’s) tendencies to trust Pokemon blindly were thrown out the window. They’re both are glaring daggers at him when he suggests that they trust him. That ‘If he was so untrustworthy, how would they explain what Dusknoir had done back there?’ Ribbons protectively gets in-front of her partner— hissing back that ‘They aren’t going to trade one lunatic trying to kill them for another. Or did Grovyle already forget about the little incident at Azelf’s lake?’
…And even though her and Aimilios do feel safer around him. (Gut feeling/aura sensing) it just feels so terrifying to trust someone again after what the giant wraith did to them. Not only that, but he was offering to take them back to their world… so they cautiously agreed.
It’s... strange. The way he’d called out for her and Aimilios to get away when Spiritomb had him in their grasp. When they traversed dungeons as he took as many hits as possible for them…the familiarity is almost nauseating.
And when Dusknoir reveals everything, the two only stare at the cloaked ghost-type cackling. The same one they both once thought was their friend.
She and Grovyle only stare at eachother as a painful amount of time passes by. He..
He tried to kill her.
She was still alive and he almost—
The realization is what makes him give up. To concede. Begging Dusknoir to just do away with him and let the other go. Let her go.
-When they’re in the Sharpedo Bluff during the nighttime— Grovyle explains the situation to the two… staring at Ribbons with hopeful eyes, sharing recollections of how they once were. Of how close they’d been. Hoping that it’d re-jog her memory now that he was there to explain the situation.
…Ribbons only stares. Guilt eating away the more Grovyle retold their supposed history. How the hope slowly died in his eyes little by little when he looked at the Eevee— seeing that same, clueless expression on her face.
One of Ribbons biggest fears when it came to her amnesia was forgetting someone important to her. Always having the dreaded feeling of losing three important Pokémon to her. And now one of them was trying to kill them. Aimilios reassured her many nights that it wasn’t the case. So for that fear to become a reality— her ears slump, the Eevee’s messy, leaf-and-twigged tail curling around her in anxiety. She wants to apologize— but she only breaks away eye contact.
She forgot. She wants to remember. But she can’t she can’t she can’t-
Ribbons sees Grovyle trying to reach out for her— only for the small quadruped to back away. Still too touch-adverse from everything that went down with Dusknoir. All the Eevee can do is watch Grovyle’s expression turned into a pained one. Trying to hide the hurt in his eye with a wry smile as he slowly retracted his arm, ”Ah… right. Too soon. Forgive me.”
…It’s a very rough night on the two of them. Both Pokémon completely unaware that they’d been trying to fight back the tears threatening to spill in their eyes. Eventually overwhelming and awakening the aura pup.
-
When they rode Lapras, presumably for many hours by now by how night fell, white stars scattering across the sky as it reflected in the dark blue sea. The Riolu had slept soundly— something that couldn’t be said for the other two.
Ribbon’s curled around her partner as he slept, grooming his fur with her tongue… before looking over towards the grass-type; something very much on his mind.
Grovyle looked pensively down towards Lapras’s shell— recalling Wigglytuff’s comment about how Chatot had been his ‘invaluable partner.’ The woodland gecko gripping the strap of his treasure bag. Unaware of the Eevee slowly approaching him. He stares— unsure of what to do. The last time they’d talked was at the Bluff, when she backed away from him in fear.
…Ribbons plopped right next to the grass-type, waiting for the uncomfortable silence to pass. When she realized he wasn’t going to cut the tension, she opted to ask the lizard what she was thinking about since their talk at the bluff.
“What was it like…?”
“What…?”
“Y-yknow…W-When we were together… What was it like?”
The small Eevee repeated. Wanting to hear stories of their times together… Memory or no memory— she hated seeing Grovyle upset. Something that was practically built into her. Like it’d been second nature.
Grovyle hesitates, afraid of a repeat of last time. He looks at Ribbons who was staring up coyly… before going on to explain and further elaborate on their history. He studied her expressions, trying to get a read on when he should stop… only to be greeted with an cheerful look on her face. The same, goofy one plastered on her human-self.
Grovyle calms at the sight, continuing to looks back on memories— preferably the more lighthearted ones the woodland gecko fondly looked back on. Although within those silly memories were times when Ribbons did… admittedly some of the dumbest things he’d witnessed during their time in the future.
What makes him smile even more is how she began to look more offended. Until she’d gotten fed up with the grass-type. Claiming that she would never do anything so blatantly stupid— and that she had a scale of stupidity she was abiding by— Chatot’s words, not hers.
This gets a chuckle from the grass-type… something that almost immediately warms the Eevee’s heart. She hesitates a littles before scooting closer, fully laying her body beside Grovyle as he continued to recollect stories of their past together… listening to the older Pokémon’s droning… until she fell asleep.
Now Grovyle is faced with another problem. And it was in the form of his little sister sleeping soundly right next to him.
He knows what’ll happen to them when he puts in the Time Gears.
He knows he’ll never get another chance like this again.
He lays his body near Ribbon’s, curling around her tiny body protectively. Before getting what was probably the most sleep he did since he arrived in the Present…
…What he fails to notice in his comatose-like sleep… is how Ribbons scooted closer into him, cleaning his face/leaf with her tounge… before curling into Grovyle— putting her head under the grass-type’s. Purring contently.
———
…When they’re traversing through the Hidden land, the same arguments when they did in the future about Grovyle’s recklessness. Although this time around— Ribbons had been calling the kettle black in this regard. The Grass and Normal type Pokémon going back and forth… before falling silent.
And when the ghost-type returned a second time to ambush the three Pokémon, Ribbons and Aimilios opted to fight the Sableye. Meanwhile, Grovyle took on Dusknoir—Which proved to be nearly impossible. It was only when the Sableye were dealt with and the two joined Grovyle on his assault on the wraith, that Dusknoir’s attacks begun to.. slow?
They fought and fought, Ribbons having managed to get in a really nasty Bite that made the cloaked revenant roar out in pain; unintentionally slamming her against a pillar. Hard. Grovyle yells her name, trying to run to Ribbons— before being intercepted by a large fist being mercilessly being swung his way. Not offering the same hesitation he did with the young Eevee and Riolu. If there was anyone Dusknoir was willing to kill— it was him.
It was when Dusknoir gripped the Riolu to the point of him whining out in pain— that the Grass-type’s adrenaline and anger made his body move harshly to knock down the ghost-type with the slice of a Leaf Blade. Getting protectively infront of his sister …and the Riolu Grovyle had begun to start considering as his little brother. His eyes turning into cat-like slits, glaring at the revenant.
———
Dusknoir hit the Eevee a second time when the two were distracted— Ribbon’s having cried out in pain, wincing from the hit she received from the large ghost-type— closing her eyes as she anticipated for him to finished her off—
Before Grovyle shielded her— and began shoving him into the Dimensional hole.
Grovyle could only smile to himself despite how much he was struggling to keep the giant wraith at bay— Dusknoir nearly breaking out of the wood gecko’s hold.
So many times. He failed to protect Ribbons. So many times. And now…
“Though the parting hurts… the rest is in your hands!”
He could finally make it up to her.
——————
~The Future~
———————
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Ribbons nearly broke Grovyle’s ribcage when he returned to the present, berating and screaming at him so angrily for leaving her the way he did… while hugging him in tears as she bawled her eyes out— Grovyle reciprocating the hug with as much strength as the Eevee.
…So when she saw Dusknoir and ran, he was the one to chase after her. Celebi having stayed back with Aimilios to explain the situation to the equally confused and afraid Riolu.
-The Eevee’d hidden under another hollowed tree stump, her entire body frizzing up at the sound of the woodland gecko calling out to her. Ribbon’s brows furrowed in anger despite her fear, yelling at him for bringing the ghost-type back. Grovyle tries to fit himself inside the tiny hollowed area… before curling around Ribbons— gently explaining the situation with the cloaked ghost. He apologizes for bringing Dusknoir without warning. Knowing that he should’ve better prepared those two.
-It’s because of Ribbons refusal to be anywhere near/talk to Dusknoir, that the Eevee has the opportune time to reconnect with Grovyle. Spending the first three years to catch up, talk, do jobs, drink at Spinda’s. Becoming even comfortable enough to start bantering with eachother, and squabbling like siblings. (and yes they partake in Cain Instinct ™️ through harmless paw baps/“oh no gravity’s increasing on me” “YOURE CRUSHING ME YOU ROTTEN BROTHER.”) Those two being practically attached to the hip as they constantly stayed side by side. Even having slept in the same hay-bed together the first year. (Separation anxiety is doing wonders.)
Grovyle is also Ribbon’s go-to hiding spot from Dusknoir whenever he’s near— not-so-discreetly hiding behind the woodland gecko anytime he’d gotten close. Something that he was more than willing to do, being a barrier being the giant specter and minuscule Eevee.
Grovyle is also the one constantly reminding Ribbons that if she feels uncomfortable/unsafe around Dusknoir, that she can come to him at any moment. And he’d talk to him. (Or smack him upside the head with a leaf blade, earning the gecko a laugh from his little sister.)
But… He knows she’s lying through her fangs when she says she’s fine with him being around. (Chalk that up to Older brother instincts) Which is why Grovyle goes to Dusknoir anyways to tell him to minimize his presence around her as much had possible in the beginning— something the wraith was already ahead/aware of.
-The Eevee also tries to repay the favor by reminding Grovyle that he actually isn’t the POS, horrible brother he thinks himself to be with the amount of times he failed to save her. Redirecting his attention to her paw scar and nuzzling the self-deprecating grass-type. Grovyle doesn’t believe himself to be the right guardian for her… but she trusts him anyways.
-And you KNOW by the time she evolves— he’s fighting back a copious amount of tears. (Dusknoir might be getting choked up over Ribbons and Aimilios’s evolutions— but Grovyle looks like he’s seconds away from actually tearing up. Just so happy to be alive to witness his baby sister having the chance to actually grow up.)
—————
Anyways!! that’s what I have for now!!!! Just mainly putting this here to give more insight to their dynamic :) (as well as have a little library of drawing ideas for Grovyle/Ribbons when the mood strikes.)
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lolasimms · 1 year
Note
let’s say wife!abby and the reader are trying for a baby, how do you think she’d react to the reader being pregnant with twins?
౨ৎ expecting twins with abby ౨ৎ
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, allusions to sex, explicit language.
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You were on your third round of IVF, and following two unsuccessful tries you were stoked to find that you were expecting a set of twins. Ahead of the journey, both you and Abby knew that because you were having children through IVF the chances of having multiples was not a rarity.
That didn’t stop Abby from expressing her fear of them however, seeing as you already had your hands full with your first two children. So you decided you’d tell her after work, when the babies were down for the night and the house was in a state of calm, rather than the usual chaos caused by your loud and attention needing four year olds.
౨ৎ
Abby stood next to you while you brushed your teeth, she combed your wet hair for you. Left soft kisses on the back of your neck when you mumbled about how tired you were, trailed behind you out of the bathroom and into the girl’s dimly lit nursery.
Both your daughters snores filling the air, with Abby attached to your back you walked to the foot of their cribs. Sighing happily when she wrapped a loving arm around your waist. Quiet as you looked in awe at your babies,
“They’re so beautiful.” Abby hummed in agreement , reaching a long arm into Lila’s crib to stroke her cheek.
“I know,” she whispered as she repeated it with Céline, “They are the most beautiful princesses.” The two of you stood in silence, bodies swaying in domestic bliss. Abby’s cheek pressed against the side of your head, kissing you a few times while she held you tight. You traced patterns on her strong forearms, wanting to never have this moment end.
“Abby?” you whispered.“Hm?” You brought a hand up to cup her cheek, “What if I told you we’re expecting more?” Abby froze. Voice barely above a whisper as she responded.
“Are you pregnant again?” You nodded your head, her body tingling immediately. She tugged you closer into her arms, peppering kisses all down your neck.
“Yes, and what if I told you we might be having two more princesses?” That’s when her face slowly dropped in worry.
“You’re fucking with me, twins again?,” Abby questioned, moving her head back into the crook of your neck, “We’re having another set of gremlins.”
“I thought they were your little princesses?” You questioned her with a giggle, causing her to lift her head once more, glaring at you as she groaned.
“They are, but they’re a fucking handful. Can barely get enough alone time with you anymore, let alone fuck you whenever I want.”
“We’ll have my parents’ help, your dads help, we can even get a nanny!” You squeeze her cheeks, the pout slowly disappearing from her face.
“I know baby, even though they’re gremlins I’m still excited.” She whispers and that makes you smile.
“My little breeding whore, can’t stop giving me babies can you?” She teases, causing you to gasp at her vulgarity.
“ABBY!” You slap her chest, causing her to give you that playful smirk of hers.
“What, you are my little breeding wh…” You place your index finger against her soft lips before she can complete her sentence.
“We’re going to have four little ears around the house so you better fix your language Anderson.”
“Yes ma’am.”
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coopigeoncoo · 4 months
Text
Meat Cute, Chapter 6
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Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 6 ->Next
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Rating: Mature (rating may change)
Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing
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In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!
---
“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”
–--
A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.
---
Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!
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You handled the fall out from Alastor's previous visit in the most mature and level-headed fashion possible; by ignoring your coworkers’ teasing and pretending that absolutely nothing of note had happened.  
And aside from Dorcas’ incessant pestering about the events you would never deign to mention again, you were overall pleased with how successful your endeavor was.
That is until a veritable shadow arrived at the shop, a sharp-fanged piranha plant held between its transparent hands.  With a half bow and an elaborate flourish, the shadow extended the plant out towards you, expectantly waiting for you to accept its offering.  
“Oh, uh - thank you?” You said, unsure if touching shadows was some sort of social faux paus and doing your best to grab hold of the pot around its inky digits.  
The shadow chittered merrily as you investigated your gift, the carnivorous plant sniffing excitedly at the scent of blood that lingered on your skin.  Living plants were a rarity in the Pride Ring, a way for the well-to-do to flaunt their wealth and standing.  Dorcas peered at the plant over your shoulder, letting out appreciative ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as the plant fluttered its leaves much like a peacock shakes its tail; basking in the glow of your admiration.
You could have easily spent the rest of the day watching the plant, but your attention was stolen by a bright bolt of light as the shadow suddenly snapped, a creamy envelope materializing in an acid green haze between its outstretched hands.  
The letter floated in the air between you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that the shadow meant for you to take possession of this offering as well.  The envelope was sturdy, made from the sort of expensive paper your Grandpa had insisted you send resumes out on ‘to make a good impression’. 
“What is it?” Dorcas asked breathlessly, taking a hold of the plant pot to free up your hands.  
You pried open the deep red seal, taking care to not crack the intricate design that had been stamped into the wax; an eyeball with a slit pupil set in front of a musical staff full of discordant notes.  It was a bit of casual luxury that seemed so impossibly distant from your way of life where you pinched pennies together to afford packs of tissue-thin paper from the corner five-and-dime.  
“It's an invitation,” you stated in bewilderment after silently reading the immaculately penned card.
Dorcas was silent for a beat before she pushed the fang-tooth plant into your arms and swiped the invitation in one quick motion.  The little bulb in your hands starts to gnash its teeth towards your thumb, fluttering its leaves in obvious frustration when you pull your hand away and leave it snapping at empty air.  
“Looks like I'll be feeding you with tongs,” you coo chidingly to the plant as Dorcas reads over the invitation, her chest heaving in excitement. 
“Alastor, The Alastor,” she repeated with unnecessary emphasis. “Has invited you to a party at the hotel.” 
“That seems to be the case, yes.”
“Are you- are you actually going to attend?”
Considering there wasn't any information printed to RSVP, it appeared to you that this was to be taken as more of a formal summons than a polite invitation.  
“I don't think I have much of a choice,” you admit quietly, doing your best to level your breathing in an attempt to remain calm; aware that the shadow had yet to dissipate and would likely be reporting your actions back to its master in excruciating detail.
“Right,” Dorcas nodded, reading over the note for the umpteenth time when her head suddenly shot up in alarm. “What are you going to wear?”
Shit.
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“Well, good morning sunshine!” Rosie greets brightly when you finally make it to the head of the line at the Emporium. “What brings ya’ to my neck of the woods?”
“I need your help, Ms. Rosie,” you croak pathetically, unable to put any energy into maintaining a congenial facade after enduring multiple sleepless nights; beset by worry as the date printed on the invitation drew ever closer. 
“That's what I'm here for!” Rosie assures you, patting your hand comfortingly.  Her fingers were unpleasantly boney and cold, but you appreciated the gesture just the same.  “Now, what can Rosie assist ya’ with?”
You reached wordlessly into your velveteen handbag, a second hand find worn thin at the edges, and handed the invitation to Rosie.
“I got this last week,” you explained as the Overlord read over the card. “There's no mention of dress code, so I have no clue what would be appropriate.  And even if I did know, I'm not sure I would be able to afford it anyway-”
Rosie daintily held up her pointer finger, which not only silenced you, but everyone in the immediate vicinity.  
“Let me make sure I've got this straight,” Rosie said, her voice level and unsettlingly calm.  “Alastor has invited you to a garden party at the Hazbin Hotel.”
You tried to not be offended by the disbelief heavy in her words and mentally shrug off the slight, but it still stung.  
“Yes,” you nod your head slightly in affirmation, reaching into your handbag once again and withdrawing a handful of pendants and brooches you had carved; laying them out gently on the counter between you.  “I don't have a lot of cash at the moment, but I was hoping that maybe you'd take these in exchange for- for something.  Anything, really.”
“These certainly are lovely,” Rosie said as she picked up your newest creation, a large pin carved to look like a gaping, sharp toothed maw.  “and I'd certainly love to talk about selling these in my shop in the future.”
“Really?”  You gasped, your heart suddenly bursting with pride at the notion that Ms. Rosie thought your creations were good enough to not just sell, but were good enough to sell in her very posh store.
“I won't be accepting them as payment though,” Rosie informed you gently, pushing them back across the counter to you to collect back up.
The warm glow of pride in your chest was quickly extinguished by a crashing swell of panic.  It had been a long shot, offering up your handmade goods for Rosie's couture fashion, but they were the only things of any value you possessed.  
You had briefly thought about offering up your carnivorous plant, affectionately named Captain Crunch due to its love of chewing on bones as loudly as possible; but you had grown fond of the tiny shrub.  Caring for Captain brought you immense satisfaction, and you inevitably decided you were more willing to show up underdressed to a fancy party than part with your leafy companion.   
“I- I understand,” you warbled, holding back frustrated tears as you picked your jewelry back up with shaking hands. 
“I can't accept payment because I'm dressing ya' for free, ” Rosie beamed, apparently taking great satisfaction in sending you through an emotional spiral.  
“Oh,” you breathed in utter shock, barely comprehending the Overlord's generous proclamation.
“I'll fix ya’ up, bonnet to boots, on one condition,” Rosie said, holding up that commanding pointer finger again.
You weren't some wet behind the ears sinner, unknowingly agreeing to lopsided deals out of desperation.  This conversation was spiraling into dangerous territory and you needed to be on your guard, lest you end up bound into an afterlife of eternal servitude.
“What's your stipulation?”
Rosie grinned, apparently pleased at your shrewdness.  “I want to hear all the juicy details!”
“That's it?” You mumble, caught off guard by her mundane request.  “You don't want my soul or anything?”
“Oh, honey!” Rosie laughed.  “A good bit of gossip is way more valuable than any old soul!”
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Tag List:
For the first time ever I have been requested to create a tag list, so let me know if you want to be added!
@wendds
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