#i did a really good job drawing york
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"So how was it?" Dean says.
Sam squints at him. Crazy-bright day, light reflecting off every car, bouncing back from the license plate frame on the Buick in front of them. "How was what?"
He gets a significant look but then there's a honk and Dean waves irritably at the guy behind them, moves forward a half car-length like that means something. Sam said they should've just taken 87 instead of the state highway, but apparently that wouldn't have been as good a drive, so here they are, bumper to bumper. Some accident they can't see up ahead.
"Dean," Sam says, when they're essentially parked again. "How was what?"
Dean stretches back, knees spread wide around the steering wheel. "Uh, let's see," he says, and sucks his lower lip like he's really thinking. "The tonsil hockey? The tongue tango? The vertical v-grab—"
"You're the worst," Sam says, loudly, and Dean grins whitely out at the traffic. Relaxed. Probably more relaxed now that Sam feels blood rising in his cheeks, like he really did something. The dick. They roll forward another few feet and Sam braces his elbow on the open window, looking out at the growing green, the budding trees. Springtime in upstate New York, not the worst it could be.
"Sarah seemed like she'd be good at it," Dean says. Sam rolls his eyes, smacks vaguely to his left, catches leather jacket. Dean swats his hand away. "Hey, that ain't a dig. I admire a chick who'll really go for it. And, buddy, the way she was looking at you."
Sometimes it's like he thinks Sam's blind. Like, the only reason is that he doesn't notice. He sucks the inside of his cheek, squints out at the random field out past the highway. Cows, in the distance. "She was good at it," he says, finally. Soft where it counted, confident in the way that a lot of gorgeous girls are. Curving into his body but not limp or just opening her mouth for it and waiting for him to be done. Her tongue tasted like earl grey tea. He can taste it now, and rubs his fingers over his mouth.
Dean's been quiet, letting off the brake and rolling forward a carlength at a time. "You want to…" he starts, but what goes there? They weren't going to stay. They never were. Even an extra day didn't make sense, because what was going to happen—Sam taking the open invite, letting himself try, knowing that in the motel across town Dean was cooling his heels with motel porn and a takeout pizza, waiting for Sam to shoot his load so they'd be ready to pack up and leave the state? No, that wasn't going to happen. Not fair to Sarah, no matter if Sam explained the score, and it wasn't fair to Sam, and it wasn't fair, either, to…
More honking, somewhere behind them. They check the rearview at the same time, annoyed, and Dean mutters, "Like that helps?"
Sam turns on his side of the bench, putting his back to the window. Dean glances at him and then looks back out at the cars, frowning. "What do you think I'm missing?" Sam says. "With this stuff. Perfume? Long hair?"
"Perfume I can do, but I draw the line at wearing a wig for you," Dean says. Sam huffs and Dean glances over at him again, smiling. Kind of smiling anyway. "Not trying to—to be weird about it, or pick a fight or anything, Sammy. I just know you wanted…" He shakes his head, slouches back on the bench with two fingers hooked low on the steering wheel. "I don't want you to be—missing anything. I know, we got a job, and it's important. I'm not, like, trying to get you to move into a two-bedroom in New Paltz. I just don't want you to hate this any more than you do already."
Traffic judders to a halt again. Sam nods, looks out at the blinding chrome. His eyes smart. He sniffs, and drags his hand over his face, and then leans over the bench seat and gets his hand on Dean's jaw and turns his face and kisses him. Dean's lips startle open and Sam closes his eyes and licks in, pressing deep, Dean's hand gripping his jacket and Dean's breath filling his mouth. Coffee, salt. Sam tips so his forehead's against Dean's, their noses brushing. "Don't worry about what I'm missing," Sam says.
Dean's knuckles against his chest. He breathes in, shaky.
Honking. Dean takes a quick deep breath and pulls back, doesn't look at Sam. Traffic opening maybe, a little, ahead. They slide forward a car-length and then another. "Might make it to Allentown before dark after all," he says. His ear's pink. Sam sits back into the corner of the bench and smiles at the side of his head. "Shut up," Dean says, and Sam smiles out the window instead, the grown-grass verge starting to blur as they pick up speed. He wasn't going to say a thing.
#happy wincest wednesday#my writing#ww lottery#a random ficlet for episode 19#fun fact: I Hate Sarah So Much#but in an established wincest context she's at least interesting
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Avenger Lane Chapter 8: Finish Him!
Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention?
Parings: Quinn Fabray x Reader / eventual Natasha x Reader
Warnings: Reader has a Penis, Guardians of the galaxy vol 3 spoilers
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Avenger Lane Chapter 8: Finish Him!
“Your soul is mine!” You mimicked Shang Tsung from Mortal Kombat.
“FINISH HIM!” the game announcer bellowed.
“Nooooo!” Beth shouted as Sub-Zero performed their fatality.
“Beth, your room is a mess!” You hear Quinn shouting from upstairs causing Ollie to sit up from his nap.
“Young lady, did you not clean it earlier when she asked you the first time?” You raised your brow pausing the video game you both were playing.
“Beth!” Quinn shouted from upstairs.
“Uh oh.” Fin giggled looking up from her drawing. “Mommy’s mad.”
“Well, go on.” You said taking her controller hearing her groan.
“Don’t play without me!” Beth shouted as she marched up stairs.
“I help Bethy.” Fin said racing after her, leaving her drawing behind.
You stood making your way to the garage grabbing your sheers you needed to tend to the gardens anyway. Right as you kneeled in front of your flower bed a certain redhead walked by.
“They’re beautiful.” Natasha smiled stopping next to you before crouching down.
“Beautiful flowers-” You cut a small bouquet. “For a beautiful lady.”
“Thank you.” She chuckled bashfully taking them from you.
“You're welcome.” you grinned before asking. “Off to Wanda’s? Or did you just wanna see me?”
“Well always happy to see you, but I am about to have a drink with Wanda.” She smiled. “Do you wanna join us?”
“No, I'm just messing with you. I'm waiting for Beth to finish her chores so we can go back to our video game marathon.”
“Oooh fun, I've never really played anything before besides what is at an arcade. Sometimes Pietro would convince us to skip school and join him at the arcade.”
“Woooow, bad student.” you both chuckled.
“I was a great student! How are you by the way?”
“Good; we took Beth to get registered at school earlier today. I can’t believe she’s starting the 6th grade already.”
“I bet, did she join any clubs?”
“Her mother really wants her to be a cheerleader.”
“You don’t?” She raised her brow.
“Not really.” You sighed setting your sheers down. “I just can’t see her doing that.”
“Does she want too?”
“Well it looks like her new friends are playing soccer. So now she’s on the fence.” You shrugged.
“Lyla’s pretty excited she’s played since she was a little girl.” Natasha added with a smile.
“Secretly, I want her in anything but cheer. I know how cheerleaders are, and I do not want my daughter to be like them.” You grumbled.
“Well they’re only in middle school.” Natasha smirked.
“Still.”
“Of course.” Natasha nodded standing up with a grin.
“Tell Wanda I said hi.” You grinned.
“I will. When are you going to tell Quinn about the job offer?” She raised her brow at you.
“I’m working up to it.” You mumbled.
“Hmhm.” She smirked walking off to the Maximoff residence smelling her flowers. “Thanks for the flowers.”
“Welcome!” You say back as you watch her smile at you before walking inside the Maximoff home.
“Look at that love sick look on your face.” Wanda laughed as she set two wine glasses down.
“Shut up.” She grumbled setting them down softly before taking the glass in her hand.
Natasha was too busy looking at her flowers to notice Wanda yelling at the boys to go outside.
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You were tending to your garden with your phone playing an old Journey song in the back ground. You were jamming along when you heard Wanda’s boys run outside.
“What’s up boys!” You waved seeing the Maximoffs holding a football.
“Hi!” They waved excitedly.
“Can Beth come out and play?” Billy asks.
You sighed looking back at the house. “Well Beth is finishing up her chores but she can when she’s done.”
“Oh okay. Beth said you used to play football.” Tommy says looking at the flowers you were repotting.
“Four time state champ.” You smirked.
“That’s awesome! Mom, just signed us up today, but we don't really know how to play.” Billy says sadly.
“Will you teach us?” Tommy asked sweetly. “Please? When we asked our dad he thought it meant soccer.”
“Well soccer is great too!”
“But we wanna play football.” Billy sighed sadly.
“Please teach us.” Tommy pleaded.
“No…” the boy's looked down in disappointment. “but I’ll coach ya.” You teased with a wink.
The boys jumped up and down cheering.
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Wanda and Natasha were in the middle of a conversation when they heard the boys yelling. They ran outside only to see you teaching them how to tackle.
“Y/N, is so great with kids.” Wanda said, before taking a sip of her wine. “Ya know if Vis wasn’t such a great husband.” she shrugged jokingly.
Natasha glares playfully.
“I'm kidding!... Sort of.” Wanda laughed.
“Another thing that makes her undeniably attractive.” Natasha murmured watching you laugh wholeheartedly with the boys.
“Vis is going to be jealous if he sees this.” the taller woman murmured.
“What? That you’re ogling Y/N?” the shorter woman chuckled.
“No.” Wanda laughed, slapping her arm. “More so that Y/N is coaching our sons on how to play football. Vis tried but he grabbed a soccer ball, and the boys didn’t have the heart to tell him.” She sighed before looking over at you. “What is Y/N doing?”
You were lugging a large tractor tire towards the lawn.
“Okay you were right Y/N is really strong.” Wanda smirked watching your muscles flex as you flipped the tire.
“Can I try?!” She heard Tommy ask and you laughed.
“Be my guest.” You stepped aside as Tommy growled trying to move the tire but only nudged it.
“Oh this is adorable.” Wanda chuckled, taking out her phone once more to record the boys. “Come on Billy, you can do it!”
“Dad, what are you doing?” Beth asked suddenly next to you.
“Oh hey sweetheart!” You laying your hand on her tiny shoulder. “I'm just teaching the boys about football. They wanted to try and lift the tire before I hang it up.”
“Can I try?” Beth asked looking up at you.
“Of course.”
“Beth!” The boys waved her over explaining how heavy the tire is.
Beth remembered you throwing the tire and squatted down before using her legs to support the toss.
“That’s my daughter!” You cheered.
Beth blushed hearing everyone cheer for her.
You finally moved the tire where you wanted it using rope to tie it to the tree branch out on your lawn. You jumped from the tree taking the ball Billy handed you,
“The key to a perfect spiral is hand placement and foot work.” You showed them with one hand how you were holding it. You slowly showed each step in movement before throwing it right through the tire.
“Wow!” The boys gasped.
“I know right.” Beth grinned.
“Who wants to go first?” You grinned, taking the ball from Billy who ran to get it. “Thanks bud.”
“Hey Y/L/N!” Steve shouted from his driveway holding up his arms.
You stepped back angling yourself before grunting as you threw it straight in his arms.
“Yeah!” He chuckled before throwing it right back.
You jumped up catching it before landing back on the grass.
“That was so cool!” The boys gushed.
“Woooo! That’s a running back right there!” He clapped his hands cheering before he walked into his home.
“My turn!” Beth shouted.
Soon Cassie and Morgan, and Monica joined in with the kids throwing perfect spirals.
“Okay but this is such a dad thing!” Carol giggled as she watched you coaching the kids. She and Val walked over to watch you and the kids with Wanda and Natasha. “She’s literally teaching the kids on the block.”
“It’s called Coaching.” Val smirked, taking a sip of her beer they brought over, nudging her wife. “That’s it sweetheart that’s the hustle!” Val clapped seeing Monica throw the ball through the tire.
Soon a car drove up it was Vis.
“Uh oh.” Wanda sighed.
Vis got out watching his boys being coached by you. He sighed sadly before trudging up the steps. “I see the boys asked Y/N to coach them.” He sighed.
“Oh Vis-“
“It’s quite alright darling. Y/N is a 4 time state champion. They seem to be learning a great deal. I’ll just go get washed up for dinner.” He made a mental note to return the book he purchased earlier that same day.
“Oof, he is definitely upset.” Val nodded.
“I’d give my vibrator to see Y/N in her old football uniform.” Carol fanned herself, ignoring the depressed Englishman to watch you run around with the kids.
“Oh my God, Carol!” Natasha chuckled before looking at Val.
“What? Y/N is hot. I wouldn’t mind them in our bed. Devils threesome and all.” Val shrugged. “Her wife is just as sexy, I can only imagine what goes on in that bedroom.” She laughed causing the women to giggle.
Natasha stayed silent clenching her legs knowing exactly what you were like as she recalled a memory.
“I’ve seen it.” Wanda blushed smiling as she bit her lip, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Shut up! You have not.” Carol scoffed.
“I did and let me just say Y/N, is very, very well endowed.” Wanda smirked while finishing her drink.
“I can confirm. Hung as a fucking horse” Val chuckled.
“How did you both even-“ Natasha began she was upset. How dare they oogle you… even though she used to do the same thing.
“Gym I saw the outline.”
“Quinn did this sexy strip tease for Y/N in the living room. It was like watching one of those nature shows I couldn’t look away. Y/N definitely knows how to work a woman, and Quinn knows how to work Y/N. All of Y/N.” She giggled.
“Damn Wands you watched them fuck?” Val furrowed her brows. “Have you ever seen Carol and I?”
“Once.” She giggled.
“Oh my God.” Val muttered.
“We’re getting black out curtains.” Carol murmured. “How did you see Y/N and not tell me though?”
“Are you kidding she made me feel…slightly emasculated. Why would I ever openly say that she’s bigger than-” Val scoffed.
“Oh baby, you shouldn’t ever feel that way.” Carol smirked sitting on Val’s lap giving her a kiss.
“Alright you two; reel it in.” Nat muttered, sipping her drink as they began to feel eachother up.
“Speak of the devil.” Wanda said, diverting her attention to the girls to Quinn who stepped out on her own porch.
“Dinner is ready.” Quinn smiled. “Beth, come wash up.”
“Aww but mom! Pop is coaching us!” Beth whined.
“Papa me too! Papa me too!” Fin ran out the door with your old football helmet.
You laughed watching her tumble down the steps the helmet breaking her fall.
“Fin, I told you to leave your papa’s things alone.”
“It’s ok Q.” You wink.
“Papa my turn!” Fin whined, holding out her tiny hands.
“Oh my gosh fine!” Beth huffed, throwing a spiral at her little sister.
“Beth.” You and Quinn said sternly after it bounced off of the helmet.
“Sorry.” Beth said meekly after her mother glared at her.
“You did great kiddo.” You say pushing the helmet up so she could see.
“Okay enough football for tonight let’s eat dinner. Beth take Fin and go wash up please.”
“Aww mom, one more round!”
“It’s alright Sweetheart I’m pretty hungry. You all were awesome today! It’s getting a little late so everyone go home, and wash up.” You turned waving towards the ladies watching.
The kids cheered before each one ran to their respective houses.
“Fin!” Beth huffed as Finley ran right behind the other kids to the Maximoff residence.
The kids cheered before each one ran to their respective houses.
“Natty!” Finley beamed from beneath the helmet.
“Hi Finny!”
“I’m like papa now!”
“I see that you did great!” Natasha smiles lifting your youngest on her lap.
Meanwhile the other neighborhood kids were gushing about their new fondness for football.
“Mom, did you see me?!” Billy gasped holding the football.
“Mom, that was so much fun!” Monica said, looking up at Carol and Val.
“Yeah it was! You did fantastic out there lieutenant trouble!” Carol grinned.
“How’s pizza sound for our little football player?” Val smirked.
“Yayyy!” Monica cheered.
“Mom did you see?!” Tommy panted, his hair crazy and sweaty..
“I did sweetie you and your brother are naturals.” Wanda smiled sweetly, pushing his wet sweaty hair back. “Did you thank coach Y/L/N?”
“Yes momma.” They nodded.
“Billy and I are gonna make coach Y/L/N a tshirt tomorrow in art class!” Tommy grinned.
“That’s really thoughtful. Boys, go on and take showers, dinner will be ready soon.”
“Bye neighbors!” The boys shouted to the women drinking on their porch before racing one another to the shower.
“Hi Miss Nat, Fin, come on, we have to go back home for dinner.” Beth
“Hi Beth.” Natasha smiled at Quinn’s mini clone.
“Neh, I stay with Natty.”
“Oh you’ll stay with me?” Natasha chuckled looking down at her little eyes beneath the helmet.
“Fin.” Beth huffed.
“How about next time Fin? Your mommy made you dinner, it's time to go eat now.”
“Aww.” Finley bowed her head making Natasha lift it back up before she tumbled over by the weight of the helmet.
“We’ll go swimming tomorrow, how about that?” Natasha smiled.
“Okay Natty.” Finley made grabby hands at her older sister. Beth rolled her eyes before lifting her up.
“Bye Natty.” “Bye Miss Nat.” The kids said in unison.
“Bye, see you again soon.” She looked over at you who winked in response.
Natasha looked away when Quinn started acting like a lovesick teenager by pulling you in a kiss.
“You gonna be my coach tonight?” Quinn husked.
“I can think of some drills.” You smirked.
“Hey Y/L/N!” Steve shouted as you held your wife by her hips pecking her lips softly. He ran over from across the street.
“Hmm?” You hummed, turning your head before turning away from your wife.
“Let’s all get together this weekend to have a friendly game of touch football? I can bring out the grill and cooler.”
“Yeah man sounds like a plan!” You grinned.
“Nice! I’ll get the guys together.”
“Oi what are we? Chopped liver?” Val shouted.
You chuckled leaning back against Quinn who stood a step higher. Her arms wrapped loosely around your neck. She was whispering sweet nothings near your ear. It drove her absolutely insane when you did anything sports related.
“The more the merrier!” Steve laughed.
“Yeah sounds good just more ass I get to smack.” You smirked over at them as Quinn bit her lip.
“Wow Y/L/N I had no idea you were such a jock.” Carol smirked.
“Four time state champ baby!” You grinned.
“My mom won the cheer championship 4 times in a row too!” Beth smiled looking up at her mother.
“The jock and the cheerleader. Lots of locker room meetups?” Val smirked.
“How do you think we got Beth?” You chuckled as Quinn elbowed you and Beth made a ew sound before running inside.
“Nice.” Val chuckled high fiving you.
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The following morning you had been walking Ollie with the girls when you all came across Peter and Gamora Quill walking their animals.
“Oh my gosh!” Beth gasped.
“Can I pet?” Fin pointed.
“Yes.” Gamora giggled. “Yes you can pet.” She crouched down letting your daughters pet their mini zoo of animals.
“Sorry.” You chuckled.
“Oh don’t be neighbor, this happens all the time we don’t mind and neither do they.” Quill laughed. “We were just about to put them in the backyard. Why don’t you guys just follow us and you can keep playing them.”
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“That’s such a sad story but at least they found the their happy ever after. Rocket and the others really went through the ringer.” You say as the raccoon settles on your lap letting you gently pet him as you listen to Peter Quill and Gamora explain how they found him in the first place, and how Gamora made a sort of career change from being a bounty hunter to a rescue hunter. She went from hunting Nazi’s to hunting animal abusers and sometimes even child abusers
“Yeah they really did.” Gamora whispers softly just before Rocket lept from your lap to hers giving her a snuggle before darting off towards up a tree that Peter made a treehouse in. “After finding him and Lylla I couldn’t let them be apart.”
You smile seeing the otter they rescued in their salt water pool. You sniffled and wiped a tear away looking around at the recuses they have found together. “Well Rocket, is welcomed to our trash anytime.”
“I love Flor!” Beth giggled as she played with the handicapped bunny.
“I can’t believe animal cruelty is even a thing. What kind of monster of a human would hurt defenseless animals.” You sigh. “They’re all so sweet and beautiful. Makes me love and appreciate Ollie even more. I’ve only known Rocket, Lylla, Cosmo, and Flor a short while and I would absolutely lay my life down for them just like I would for Ollie.” You smiled seeing Ollie and Cosmo playing around with one another.
“Maybe we can take all of you to visit Teefs.” Gamora smiled. “He’s living at the Aquarium now in New York. We hated separating them but Teefs needed a lot of special care and the Aquarium provides that. We take them out to visit him at least 3 times a month.”
“I’d love to meet the big guy, and I’m sure the girls would too as well.” You chuckle as Cosmo, their rescue dog, gives you kisses. “Thank you Cosmo, you're a good girl.” She barked in excitement she whisked Fin up and on her back. Zooming all of the yard chasing Ollie.
“Cosmo zoomies!” Fin giggled on her back.
“The girls are in love with this place.” You chuckled seeing Beth’s face light up when floor hopped on her chest as they laid in the grass.
“They are always welcome here.” Gamora smiled.
“Yeah maybe next time I can grill us some burgers, and you can actually meet our team.” Peter grinned.
“Yeah I’d like that!” After a beat you asked; “Have you thought about opening up a rescue center?”
“We have but we just felt like if we did then it would need to basically be a zoo so they can free roam and not be tied down in a cage.”
“Well when you guys find the right place let me know. I’d love to help out in anyway that I can.”
“Thank you Y/N.” Gamora smiled.
“Beer?” Peter grins, handing you a bottle.
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“Hey.” You say knocking on her office door.
“Hi baby, you and the girls have a nice walk?” Quinn smiles, taking her glasses off looking from her computer to you.
“It was great we met some more neighbors down the block, but we can talk about that later. I wanna talk with you about something important to me.”
“Okay.” She said standing up taking your hand leading you to her loveseat. “What’s going on?”
“Well a few days ago I was speaking with Tony, and he basically offered me a job on his team.”
“With Stark Industries?” Quinn’s eyes widened.
“Yeah, he heard I was supposed to go to MIT, and since I actually know what I’m doing he offered me a job.”
“Wow.” She smiled, patting your hands.
“You don’t want me to take it.” You mutter softly with a sigh.
“It’s just Fin is still not in school, and I-“
“Natasha said she’d be her babysitter, and Beth will be in school.” You say.
Quinn bit her lip looking away.
“Hey.” You say gaining her attention back. “This is important to me. I can actually bring something home. I can actually have my own career. It’s time Quinn.”
“Let’s wait a couple years for Fin to go to school then we can-“
“If you don’t want Natasha to take care of Fin. Then why don’t you just work from home fulltime and take care of our daughters yourself?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Quinn why can’t you just meet me half way-“
“Because I may be pregnant.” She interrupts you.
“Wait what?” You furrow your brows.
“I didn’t wanna tell you yet, I wanted to be sure.” She sighed standing up.
“Oh.” You raise your brows.
She swiftly turned around glaring at you. “You said you wanted-“
“No, no, I do, I do.” You say quickly rushing to her side, taking her hands. “Have you taken a test yet?”
“No…I’m still waiting a few more days to see if I start.” She muttered.
“Okay.” You nodded. “So we really aren’t sure yet.”
“No… but I know my body, and it feels just like the first time. I’ll make a doctor's appointment.”
You took her hand and sat down in thought. You did want another baby, but you knew she didn’t want another. You can’t help but feel a little blind sided. You internally roll your eyes at yourself Beth and Finley were both surprises, and you did tell her you wanted another baby. Maybe you won't have to turn down your dream job. You take in a deep breath and slowly release before saying something more so for yourself.
“One day at a time.”
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1940s New York Schlatt who owns a whore house in France and you’re his favorite…?
(This is a gift for @lvrj4mie, happy belated birthday darling! I hope you like it.)
In the era of the 1940s, the world famous Jonathan Schlatt had established himself as a renowned whore house owner, not in New York, but nestled in the heart of Paris, France’s red light district. His house, "Le Mystère," was the epitome of sophistication, drawing a crowd of wealthy, high-horse, business men looking to cheat on their wives from around the world.
In the smoky, dimly lit atmosphere of “Le Mystère” in 1940s France, the sultry tunes of jazz filled the air as patrons gathered in the foyer to be herded off to separate luxury rooms. Schlatt was known for his keen eye for talent and his love for the art of burlesque.
Among the talented performers who graced the rooms night after night, you held a special place in Schlatt's heart. Your ‘performances’ were nothing short of mesmerizing, combining grace, charm, and a hint of mischief that left the customer enraptured. It wasn't just your beauty that drew Schlatt's admiration, but also your incredible skill at adapting to someone’s preferences.
Schlatt would often find himself watching from the shadows, his eyes fixed on you as you did mundane things and also when you ‘entertained’ a customer with certain exhibitionist preferences. He appreciated the artistry and dedication you poured into each ‘performance’, and he couldn't help but be proud of having you as one of the stars of his club. Your talent was the heartbeat of the establishment, drawing in patrons from all corners of the city who couldn't resist the allure.
One evening, after a long night, you were sitting in your changing room in front of your luxurious vanity when a familiar knock rapped against the door.
“Who is it?” You called out warily.
“Ya boss, sugar tits.”
“Come in!” You chuckle.
“Like I need a fuckin’ invitation…” He scoffs as he enters, having to bow his head in order to not hit it due to his height.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? What’s fuckin’ wrong? Why does everything have to be ‘wrong’ around here?”
“Sorry. What’s up?”
“Just thought I’d come say hi before you get back to work… You know,” He pauses “I pity a lot of you girls in here. However ‘luxurious’ we promote this place to be, you’re still sellin’ your bodies for nought…”
“Pity?”
“Well… Maybe pity isn’t the right word… uh- fuckin’ uhh… whazitcalled? Uhh…”
“Empathy?”
“Yeah! Yeah… And it’s not like I don’t pay ya good, is’ just a shitty feelin’ ya know?”
“At least we get paid,” You say lightheartedly “But what did you really come in here for?”
“What makes ya think I’m here for anythin’ else, sugar?”
“You never come into my dressing room unless you want something. Last time it was for intel on a businessman, the time before that was because you wanted advice on your hair, the time before that was-”
“Alright, alright! You win, broad,” He sighs, “I wan’ed to ask ya out on a little night out on the town. I could take ya to the Ritz, and then we’d go to an art exhibit, maybe dance if we find a busker? I dunno… Just thought I’d ask since… Well I’m goin’ back home soon and, well, ‘m not gonna be back for a while and ya might quit in that time and then I’d never see ya again and I just thought I’d ask cuz-”
“Sure. I’d love that.”
“A-Are you,” He coughs, “Are ya sure, doll? I don’t wanna put you in between a rock and a hard place cuz I’m ya boss. Ya don’t have to if ya don’t wanna.”
“You’re one of the only men that knows about my job and doesn’t look at me like a set of holes so, I’d love to go on a date with you.”
“Well… Shit, doll. I-I’ll grab ya after your shift? W- Is it weird if I take ya out after you’ve had sex with a buncha nobodies for the night?”
“Then take me out now.”
“C’mon then, doll, getcha coat.”
#jschlatt fluff#jschlatt x reader#jschlatt#schlatt#schlatt fluff#schlatt x reader#jschlatt smut#schlatt smut
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Masterlist here~
Tales the Songs Weave
CW: PinV, smut, light bondage, oral sex, all that fun jazzy smut
Chapter 11: Same Way that my Whole World's in Your Eyes...
Word count: 6K
It wasn't much. A nice kitchen that was barely touched. Clothes, tools, and other technology pieces were scattered about the floor. His bedroom had one dresser, with the solitary turntable and records you gifted him decorating it, and a gigantic California king bed. There was a long pane glass window in his main living and bedroom overlooking the twinkling lights of Nueva York.
Truly a magnificent sight to behold.
You both decided to just relax on his provisional bed, laying on your backs and staring at the ceiling. It was past midnight, and neither one of you could fall asleep.
“You know, Miggy, I've been meaning to ask, what do you do to relax? Besides coming over to my place.” You propped yourself on your elbows, turning your attention on to his bright, red eyes.
“Huh. Well, let's see. I enjoy–I do enjoy listening to music. Going to the park where we met. Side note, why were you there so late?”
"I wanted to clear my head. The park is only ten minutes away from my building, so I decided to just go. Why did you go?”
“Something told me to go. I guess gut instinct? I usually try to use my head more, but it won that round.”
You crawled and perched yourself on his chest, lightly stroking his face. “I'm glad it won.”
“I'm glad it did too.” His arms linked around your waist.
“Now, back to the matter at hand, is that all you like to do? Music and the occasional trip to the park?”
Miguel pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I… I can't think of anything else. I don't really have unlimited days and hours to do things I enjoy.”
“What about right now?”
His face twisted into a pensive daze. It barely crosses his mind that he appoints days for you. How prominent you're in his mind–that you capture so much of him.
“Huh. Well, I guess you can count this.”
“We can move on from this subject if you'd like.” Your forehead was placed on his.
“Quiero hablar de esto. It's okay, mi Luna. In a way, you're right. I see visiting you as a customary routine. That it's etched into another part of my day, but moments I profoundly enjoy.”
Miguel turned to the glass opening, concentrating on the artificial blinking lights that engulfed the world.
“But is it wrong to say I feel guilty?”
“Guilty when you leave your work?” You buried your head in his chest.
“I can't pinpoint the exact reason, or maybe I do. When I don't return, the burden dissolves but also manages to clutch onto that trepidation.”
“Miggy, are you still talking about your job?” You peered up at him.
Miguel leans his head back, vacancy plastering his face. “But does it truly wane? There's so much wrong, so many errors that I can't rectify, that I start to believe—no, do believe—I'm not worth…”
Miguel draws to you a solemnity that glosses over.
“Miguel?” You clamp your palms on the sides of his jawline.
“I'm sorry, mi corazón. I got lost in thought.”
“Are you okay? It sounded as if it was haunting your mind.”
“Haunting?”
You nodded. “Your eyes glazed over, fixed on something. You masked a stony facade, but your eyes had this faint, bleak, and ghastly look. What were you going to say? Do you believe you're not worth what?”
He averted back to the transparent window, a steady sigh spilling out. “That I'm not worth it. That I-I… shouldn't belong. That I'm this rancorous being with little to give. This monster that consumes others and brings them down."
You deadpanned for a moment, then slowly a choleric expression replaced it. Pressing his cheeks together until his lips puckered, you roughly placed your forehead on his.
“Don't you ever say that about yourself! You are worth every second, every minute, every hour, and every day! You aren't a monster; you are this amazing man who does his damndest to do good and to give so much to everyone and everything, and I want this man to do the same for himself! I want my star to see that he is just as bright and wanted as the others!”
Your heart drummed uncontrollably. Miguel was stunned at your sudden, blazing obstinacy.
“I-I'm sorry. I didn't-” He was left shell-shocked.
Having someone be passionate about how he perceives himself was an unconventional circumstance for him. He's so used to the belittling and snide remarks from others that all forms of positivity are out of the ordinary.
“Don't be sorry, Miggy. Well, you can tell yourself sorry. Don't talk down on yourself when you're far, far from those things. Do you understand?”
“Si. Si, mi Luna. Ay… ¿Qué hice para que alguien tan maravilloso como tú descienda a mi vida?”
“French! I took French!”
“Yes, yes, you did.” Miguel flipped you over, garnering a squeal from you.
He compressed a bit of his weight on your body and kissed your lips over and over before lingering for a few seconds.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“Any chance you can get.” You enfolded your arms around his broad shoulders.
“Then I'll keep saying it. You are beautiful, my moon. How you adorn life and the ones around you, no matter where you go, you illuminate the paths with a glow that will never fade.”
A croaking screech belted from you, and your eyes began to well up with tears.
“Mi Luna, you okay?”
“Yes! I'm okay! Just caught–caught off guard.” You planted your face on the side of his neck.
Then that fragrance smacked him. He removed his hands from your sides, digging his claws into the sheets. He groaned, doing his best to control himself.
“Miggy? Alright, there is something going on, and I'm getting anxious. This is the third time you have had this… reaction. What's wrong, mi Estrella?”
‘You should be ashamed, you sick pervert.' It was one of the only sentences echoing in his conscious. ‘She is going to be appalled by your disgusting ways.’ Was one of the only assumptions he was falling for.
Yet, when he peers into those eyes, all he sees is earnest empathy. That you’ll take the time to understand, no matter what is propelled in your direction.
Despite the destructive beliefs he holds, he will let you in.
One string lies dormant.
“I-I… Since I have these enhanced... complications, I'm able to–I'm able to smell when you're about to... start your cycle?” He winced, his voice drawing out.
“Oh. You know, I think the app I have said I'm supposed to start in the next few days.” You rubbed your chin, closing one eye, as your brain tried to remember.
“I- you're not mad about that?”
“No, why would I? You're basically like a personalized, super-scent humanoid app. Ah, that sounds bad when I put it into those terms.”
“Ay, no, no, I understand what you're trying to say.”
Miguel gritted his teeth, avoiding your stare as he demeaned himself for a request he wanted. Despite him sparing no effort to shy away, you realized his chagrined feeling.
You wanted to help him. You would just have to leave earlier to make a pit-stop over to a pharmacy, but it'll be all worth it.
“How does it affect you? I mean, I can take a gander, but I just want to be a hundred percent about it.”
“I just get so tense, and my blood boils to the point I can't even control myself. That's why earlier on the roof, I almost bit you because your aroma was so strong. Well, if you're about to start, that's probably the reason why.”
You gnawed on your bottom lip, enquiring about your options.
“Off.” You simply commanded and patted his chest.
Confused, he creased his brows before following your instructions. His mind began to scramble, disconcerted by what exactly you were masterminding.
Sitting up, you flung your legs around his, straddling on them. “So, if I'm understanding this correctly, you basically get hot and bothered?”
You swept your thumbs against his digital suit. “And you need to have it taken care of? A sort of intervention?”
Interested in where this was headed, even though he caught the implications, he tightened his lips, not daring his mouth to open, and bowed his head.
“Well, if I'm causing this stimulation, then I should be the one to help, right?”
While leisurely caressing his thighs, you hypothetically watch his form for any minor differences. Rather, it may be from facial expressions to the body itself.
“Si. But, mi Luna, don't do this because you feel obligated to. I want you to be just as comfortable, and I don't want to-”
“Get rid of it.”
That dour attitude lunged out of nowhere. Miguel was keenly aware of how precisely doting you can get for your feelings for him, but never so frank with it.
“Corazón, are you sure?”
A roguish grin spread on your lips. You inched your hands towards his not-so-discreet bulge, your digits brushing against the fabric, concealing it.
“Is this answering your question?” You pressed your pointer finger on it, leaving feather-like touches around the outline.
Miguel sharply sucked in a gulp of air, your eyes enthralling him as if you were a siren.
A siren he will follow until the end of the universe.
“Remove the suit for me, Miggy. Let me help you.” You bent over right up to his ear.
“Let me worship you.” Your warm breath tickled his earlobe and part of his neck.
No hesitation; he got rid of his gear from neck to toe. Body burning with desires for you and what you were cooking up.
Your devilish grin dropped a bit, ogling at Miguel. You both haven't done anything explicitly sexual in your relationship, minus the few heated makeout sessions that usually lead to Miguel's shirt being thrown in a corner, but that's how far you would go.
It was mostly due to you being afraid you would be inadequate for someone like him.
And the same went for Miguel.
You bug-eyed at his size. You often daydreamed about how endowed he was. You were acutely aware that he was going to be large and highly telling due to his dimensions, yet being face-to-face with it was a new ballgame.
A drop of sweat trickled down to your cheek as you visibly gulped. Miguel, alerted, began to materialize his suit back on when a hiss revealed itself to him.
You groped him in your hand, pumping up and down in a steady rhythm.
“No. Don't. I'm just not used to something this big, but I'm not backing down from this, oh no, mi Estrella. I'm going to take this one head first.”
You slyly winked as your pace kept that firm pattern, your lips licking at the sight of him. He belonged in a museum. You felt so selfish, hoarding this sculptured man away from everyone, although you craved to keep him all to yourself.
Miguel bit his lip, grunting through his teeth at your soft yet strong grip. “Joder, Luna mía, no sabes cuánto tiempo llevo queriendo sentir tus delicadas y suaves manos sobre mí de esta manera.”
Groaning out, he dipped his head back, his hips bucking with your strokes.
“There you go, mi Estrella, let loose, my love.”
The only light to shine through was the city. You took in how the dazzling hues melded into a bewitching array over his chest and parts of his face.
You always inquired about how you were blessed with him.
Picking up speed, you adored every appearance his face created as you continued to work your magic. Precum was leaking down, some slipping through your fingers as squelches from his self-made lubricant blessed both of your ears.
“There's so much, Miggy. How often do you think of me? Of us? Of your moon taking care of you?”
You squeezed, causing Miguel to violently toss his head back as your nails carefully scraped down his length.
“¡Mierda! So much, mi Luna, so, so much. Necesito tu boca, por favor, corazón, tus bonitos y tentadores labios a mi alrededor, mi luna. Ah–¡Por favor!”
“What was that, mi Estrella?” Your tone rang out with a melodic chirp. Your hand jerked in a wild, twisting motion as his manhood throbbed from the strain you were creating.
“Your mouth–fuck! I need that pretty little mouth. Por favor, mi Luna.” Miguel rasped out, enthralled at how you were already breaking him.
The cheeky grin never once left your lips. You tilted your head downward to view your handiwork, your other hand searching its way and latching onto the thick shaft.
You could barely cover it as your palms gyrated at different tempos. More drops of the clear substance dribbled out from the swollen tip. Miguel gritted his teeth, his fangs grazing the bottom of his gums from the sensations.
He hasn't felt this way in years. If not, better. Even when those previous one-night stands or self-pleasing himself indulged, it couldn't compete with your touch or swift motions. How delicate yet robust your hands moved, using every fiber to care for him and make him feel good.
And it only made him want you more.
“Mi Luna–Ah–please your- fuck–your mouth.” Miguel couldn't contain the hoarseness in his throat.
You eyeballed the phallus in your hands. The more you pumped, the further that tingle in between your thighs grew.
The veins popping out, the heat warming up your fingers with every stroke, and the flowing liquid from his heightened arousal. His musk emits, mixing with the scent of pure desires.
Your mouth watered as you still gripped the pulsating member. Your head was leaning down as your eyes faced his reddened head.
Moistening your lips, you kissed it. A shock coursed all over Miguel. He released a low, husky groan, his hips bucking more involuntarily.
“Mi Luna.”
“I see you, mi Estrella. I see you.”
Observing his face, you made sure he was receiving the pleasure he deserved.
Trailing light kisses from top to bottom and back up. You licked the tip, swirling your tongue at a slow speed. His talons shoved in the thin bedsheets and the firm mattress. He rumbled out a growl, preventing himself from just forcing you all the way down on him.
“Eso es todo- ah, corazón, más, necesito más.”
Miguel abruptly thrusted upward as you instinctively grasped his thighs to prevent yourself from tumbling over. Not wishing to tease him anymore, you gradually engulfed him, as drool immediately emanated from the corners of your lips.
“Corazón, yes, there you go, bebita. Just like that.” His eyes fluttered into the back of his skull.
You moaned from the sensations as you took each inch at a deliberately methodical rate. You had to have one hand back around his shaft, loosening your cheeks to even attempt to make it halfway.
“Mmph–mmm!” You gargled as more spit spurted out.
Miguel entangled his unsheathed claw in your hair, pushing you down and impelling you to take another part of him.
“Si- si, si, mi Luna. Tu boca es una dicha eterna, mi corazón. Toma más, puedes tomar más.”
Tears pricked in your eyes as your hand was back on his defined thigh. You were so close to getting him all in. Feeling every inch as it would glide against your tongue, rubbing against your inner cheeks whenever you'd sucked in.
Noisy suction reverberated in the air as pools of your saliva and his salty substance dripped onto his lower pelvis region and thighs.
You were leaking from him. Your tongue was whirling around delicately and deliciously, as if he were the final meal you would ever be given. His tip nearly stretched to hit the back of your throat, and as hot tears streamed down your face as you peered up to look at his beautiful expressions.
“Mi Luna!” Miguel moaned, his hold strengthening. “So close, I'm so close, corazón. Fuck–so good, so good.”
He stroked along your jawline, admiring the sight below him. Your teeth feebly grazed his cock, faintly biting enough to send jolts through his body. Enough to elicit a growl from him.
Enough to face-fuck you.
“Mmmm! Mmmph–mmn!” You could only choke.
Your throat trembled around him and tightened with every thrust he gave. You were comforted when you saw pleasure written across his face. You were making him feel good, and in this moment, that's what truly mattered.
Miguel cried out. With his hips ramming up into you, he couldn't hold back any longer. That heat he wanted to experience from you was built inside of him. He was close, and you sensed it.
“Mi Luna!”
With a powerful roar, he finally released, pulsating waves upon waves of his hot seed down your pretty throat.
“Mmph!” Your eyes rutted wide as he spilled into your mouth, some leaking down to your neck. Nails dug into his thighs, and your eyes wanted to stare into his. He was majestic in your vision.
You desperately desired to capture this moment forever.
Gulping the final drop, you pulled away with a satisfying pop and heaved tirelessly.
“My… my God, Miggy. That was so much—holy shit.” You gasped, wiping some of his essence off your face with your fingertips before greedily lapping it up.
“I haven't done that in so long. Was it good? Was I good?” You rested your behind on his knees and finally peered up at him.
He had a fixed, ferocious glare. His burning, red eyes stirred something wild in them.
Goosebumps swept over you. You didn't know what to expect. “Was... was it- was I not good enou-”
He was sitting up, looming over. You shrank, neglecting exactly how colossal he was compared to you. That vibrant, captivating stare only made you tremor violently more.
“Mi-Miguel…” Your throat quivered.
In a swift motion, your back was against the wall above the mattress. Miguel had you pinned, his strong arms holding up your thighs as your legs dangled over his shoulders. You didn't even register how quickly he got you in this position.
“Miguel!”
“Ay, mi corazón, did you really think I wasn't going to reward you? That I was going to allow mi Luna to do all the work?”
He huffed a stream of sultry breaths on your covered inner thigh. “No, no. I'm going to show mi corazón that I can be good to her, just as she was good to me.”
He tore your sweatpants off in one fell swoop, muttering about buying you some more. Your chest heaved in rapid succession, head bowed as you watched how Miguel gaped at the massive damp spot from the earlier ministrations you performed.
“Did my moon enjoy going down on her papi that much?” His sharp talons pricked at your soft skin.
You diverted to observe the night's horizons, the lower half of your body barely able to shift under his hold.
“Look at me.” His authoritative tone barked out.
You nearly came from that. Flicking back to him, his lips were hazardously near your shielded folds. “Tell me what you want, mi Luna.”
“I-I…” You shrouded your face with your hands, mortified at the abundance of slick arousal seeping out of you.
His claws dug deeper into your skin as he stared you down, and his pupils dilated.
“Don't be shy, mi Luna. Tell me what you want.”
He trailed kisses back and forth from your inner thighs, massaging your buttocks. You were practically trickling from your private region. Mortified that you can effortlessly get to this point with him.
Miguel rested his cheek on your soft flesh, switching between kissing and licking exceedingly close to your bikini line.
Miguel wasn't one to be a patient man, but for you, he would wait until the end of time, only when you spoke the words.
“I-I want–”
“I won't begin, mi Luna, unless I hear it from those sexy little lips.” He purred, biting the crevice of your thigh, weary of his fangs. “So tell your Estrella, what. You. Want.”
He feverishly nipped the skin, running his wet tongue across it. He received a low whine as you shuddered at the wet appendage.
“Miguel! Eat me out—please, please, I beg of you!” Your head flung back, not caring about the self-impact of the barrier behind you.
You just wanted him.
“Como quieras, mi Luna.” His eyes darkened and delved in, lapping at the damp fabric with no hesitation.
You clung to his hair, your nails digging into his scalp. His claws tighten their vice on your supple ass-cheeks.
Miguel traced the outlines of your folds before flattening his tongue, pushing against your hidden vulva. The murky cloth rubbing against you and Miguel's tongue heightened your sensitivity.
You choked out a groan when you detected the tip of his talons making perfect slits down the back of your underwear before slashing the rest off of you.
“Mi Luna lo quiere, mi luna lo anhela. No temas, mi corazón, te daré todo lo que mereces.”
He admired the glistening heat, watching as it squeezed for him, savoring your fragrance. You mewled, abashed by the situation.
You didn't know what was to come or what to expect, but when you gazed into those lustful eyes, fear snuck its way through... and exhilaration.
“It looks succulent. I had the appetizer; now I want the full course.”
His hot breath teased your entrance before enveloping you in his mouth. His carnal tongue licking your labia, tasting your sweet and salty juices.
He stirred his tongue over the folds, dragging it all around, refusing to miss a single inch, then jutted in and out of your gushing core.
“Oh fuck–fuck! Miggy! Shit, shit, shit!” You wailed out, tingles rushing up and down your limbs.
Miguel was untamed, ravishing that soaking pussy. His movements were possessive, like a predator claiming its prey, yet behind it all was tenderness and longing.
“Mmmph.” A guttural growl sends vibrations through your sex, creating white stars in your eyes.
Thrashing your head from side to side, Miguel slid his appendage out and began to slurp. His tongue moved up to the clitoris, thumping it a few times, then he proceeded back down and repeated the pattern.
“Mi Estrella! Ah–ah! If you do that, I'll—I'll—fuck!”
Miguel only amped up. He paid attention to every sensitive spot on your honeyed pussy. He needed to drink your delectable juices as if you were the only thing left to drink in the world.
The raw energy from Miguel drove you into a frenzy. He was rough and powerful, but each impel was for your pleasure alone.
“I'm coming, Miggy! I'm coming!”
You cried out, clamping down on his tongue, and shuddered as waves erupted from your core. Your back arched off the wall, and your heels dug into Miguel's upper back.
He wanted to drink every drop as some trickled down to his chin.
“Qué dulce, qué apropiado para alguien como tú.”
Your forehead covered in sweat and thighs soaking wet, Miguel's ego brewed at the sight.
He did that. And he was going to be the only one to see you like this. To make you feel this way.
“How was that, mi Luna?” He nipped at the outer thigh and moved to clean up the rest of the spillage.
Your half-lidded, absent daze was all Miguel needed to know. He chuckled and strummed your back, loosening his grasp, and unlatched your legs, dropping you until they were locked around his waist.
He weaved his strong arms around your torso, listening to your steady breathing. He stroked your hair, then pressed a kiss on your forehead.
“You did wonderful, mi Luna. But there is still one thing. Well, two.”
Too jaded to even respond, a puzzled whine escaped you.
“I'm a selfish man, mi corazón, and my thirst isn't quite quenched.” He yanked your head back, and his tongue ran over your neck.
You gasped, your body aching in anticipation. He peeled you off him and onto the firm padding as you were positioned as an angel descending from the heavens.
“Oh mi Luna, ¿cómo tuve tanta suerte de tener a alguien como tú en mi vida? Todavía estoy tan desconcertado que fui yo quien te recibió.”
Miguel shifted off until his knees were on the wooden floor. He seized a hold of the thin cover you were on top of and hauled you to him.
“I still want more. But this time, I'm going to take my time with this dessert. Well, I'll try.”
“What do you mean?” You struggled to hide the intoxicated fright from whimpering out.
“You know exactly what I mean, mi Luna.”
He lingered over your body, roaming over it with his eyes. His hands stroked over every roll, dip, and curve, crushing his lips into yours.
Your tongues in an intense, messy battle as you tasted yourself. A string of saliva broke when he pulled back, both of your chests rising and falling in near sync.
“I'll let you pick, mi corazón. One or both?” His hands tugged your shirt off and threw it in a corner.
“B-both?” You were perplexed by those choices.
“Good choice.”
Yanking your bra up, he hungrily gazed at your perfect breasts, craving to have a nibble, maybe even a mouthful.
You covered them, forcing him to pin each of your arms near your face with his organic web.
“Miguel!” You moaned out, flushed over the new position.
“Do not try to hide that body from me. Yes sir?” He snarled out.
“Yes, yes! I promise I won't do it again!”
“Good girl. But just for safe measures.”
He spread your legs wide until they touched the mattress. He thwiped more of his silk webbing on your waist, ankles, and thighs.
You were exposed, your heart palpitating as you could barely even squirm.
“Now, mi Luna said both, correcto?”
You meekly nodded your head. With that, he needed no more. He cupped your breasts, squeezing and pinching the hardened nipples brutally. You moan in ecstasy as Miguel brushes his talons against the sensitive buds before colliding them together.
“Both.” He grunted and took both nipples in his mouth, licking them maniacally.
He tugs and chews at them, making sure to leave love-bites all over your chest. You groan out raspily when one hand leaves your chest and scrapes down your stomach in a non-stop motion, halting at your entrance.
A popping sound was made when he released one of your peaks.
“So wet again, mi Luna? Don't worry, I can fix that.” He took your left nipple back into his mouth, circling your clit with his thumb.
“Fuck! Oh–ah! Mmmn–Miguel!”
He plunged his pointer and middle into you, your walls clasping around them. Your back lifted up, only to be pulled back down from the binding.
He drove his digits deep into your core, his palms smacking against the folds as your juices spewed onto his hands.
Your lashes were wet from the sensual stirring from inside and your throat was hoarse from the screams and cries.
Miguel leaned his heavy chest on your stomach, leaving kisses all over your upper torso as you squished with every pump of his fingers.
“Mi corazón, you are so tight. I can feel every part of you. I will feel your wetness and your walls tightening around this cock. You want that, mi Luna? You want papi's fat cock to ravage and paint this gorgeous pussy?”
You could only sob as Miguel stretched you, rubbing against the top wall and locating your g-spot. His fingers create circular spirals against it.
You wailed, your heart was ready to burst from your chest. Silent cries and more tears, until Miguel stole another sloppily kiss from you, bruising your lips with his, desiring for you to release all over his fingers.
“You don't know how long I've waited for this; you adorn my life, my moon. You make me want to be better; you make me want to- to—damn it, corazón!”
Miguel pushed himself off you, removing his fingers, as you wailed out from the stoppage.
“Miggy! I was close! I was so—ahh! Mi Estrella!”
Miguel replaced his fingers with his tongue once more, his mouth on your pussy as he was ready to devour you. He stroked his swollen member, the clear liquid leaking out in ripples.
He didn't even want to speak anymore; he only wanted to hear those needy, shuddering moans and screams. His hums added more pleasure to their moment of passion.
He yearned for this. To make you come undone over and over.
He wanted to hold you, cherish you, please you, and protect you. He only wanted you.
And in this moment, he has that. He had one thing he longed for.
How long would this last? No, not right now. He didn't want to think that way. Now, he only wanted to make you orgasm on his tongue.
Snatching the webs from your thighs and ankles, he hoisted you up until your hips were in the air, your legs once more propped over his shoulders.
“I can't—I-I-I love—ahh!”
You were blubbering like a fool, with drool and tears drenching your face and sweat shining all over your body. Miguel gnawed at your clit, the glossy muscle, abusing your insides. He went raw and feral; he wanted you. He wanted this. He needed you.
Your walls tensed at every plunge, Miguel's eyes locking onto yours. Cradling you in one arm to support your waist, he returned to pumping himself.
You were on cloud nine, ten, and eleven. His nose swiping your throbbing clit, him feasting on you as if you were the final meal.
Your raw whines of lust were tipping Miguel over as his cock ached for you, wanting to invade your heated, velvety wall.
To mold you for him.
“I can't—I can't hold back, mi corazón!”
Pulling back, your legs collapsed on the sturdy cushions. Your vision was foggy, searing at the marbled statue that was Miguel. You crooned out as he hunched over you, his girth in his hand.
How it gleamed in the light, presenting every vein from thick to thin, the swollen phallus coated in crystalline cum, making it sheen and sleek.
You were hypnotized by the pulsating, twitching with every tug he made.
And that's when it hit you.
That was all for you. You cried out as Miguel buckled onto the mattress, his face near yours.
“I'm not going to have mi luna wait any longer. I'm going to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is me and this cock.” He huskily murmured in your ear, gaining a shudder from you.
“Yes, yes, please, Miggy. Only you, just you!”
You hiked your legs around his waist, latching on to the middle of his back as much as possible. He was big in every shape and form, but you loved it.
Propping an elbow by your arm, he lowered his body onto yours as his abs and muscular chest pinned you down, but he still left enough space for you to breathe. His other hand clutched his cock, lining it up to your seeping entrance.
“Are you ready, mi Luna?”
You bobbed your head.
“Good girl, now let me, mi corazón. Ah fuck–let me just.”
His chapped lips captured yours. You were sugar to him—sweeter than all candies combined. He nibbled your bottom lip, his tongue gliding across yours as he began to penetrate your hot opening.
You immediately clamped around the head, eliciting a gasp from both of you. He tried to push in an inch as slowly as possible, but found it rather difficult.
“Mi corazón, you have to relax. Shit–relax, relax. I got you; I got you.”
You mewled and nodded. With the help of Miguel's finger rubbing circles around your clitoris, you breathed in and out steadily, purring out whenever he slightly rocked his hips.
“There you go, such a good girl; you are doing so well. Fuck, mi Luna.”
He stretched you out more and more, pausing so you could adjust to him. After some help with encouraging rubs from between your thighs and several forehead kisses, Miguel was fully in.
He had to prevent himself from just railing into you as your inner muscles squeezed him.
“You can move, Miguel! Please! Please, please move!”
“Si, si, voy a ser dueño de este coño, moldeado sólo para mí, ah, mi Luna!”
His claws clutched the sheets above you as he slowly began to plunge into your depths. You released a cry to the heavens, feeling every pulse and steady pump from the man above.
You grinded up whenever Miguel thrusted downward, making your hip bones meet with every drive. He lapped at your neck, biting and sucking, leaving more purplish-red hickies all over.
He strived to restrain himself from plowing, but his hearing picked up every lustful squeak and moan, every squelch when he withdraws to the head and propel it back to the hilt, and every sweet nothing you murmured as you drooled and absent-mindedly grinned.
He sped up. Ramming into you repeatedly, plundering your drenched heat.
His member snugged as he experienced every inch of you clinging to him for dear life. His tip bullied your cervix, and you shrieked at every pulse as he rubbed against your walls.
“Too much, Miggy! Oh, fuck—I worship your cock, mi Estrella!”
“That's it, baby. Let go and surrender to me.”
Your nails dug into your palms as Miguel panted and growled in your face.
Surges of electric tingles through your body. The wet smacking of your pelvises flowed through both of your ears; a symphony of your raw moans and his low, husky huffs had your back slightly curling.
The mattress shifted with each retract and bolt as your breasts bounced in all directions. Your murky fluids gush on his lower abdomen and thighs, blemishing his mattress and soaking it thoroughly.
“Oh, mi corazón, so warm, such a perfect shape for me. Let me look. Let me look.”
Arching his back and hiking your legs up slightly more, you both viewed every exit before Miguel crashed back down to your core, hitting your g-spot perfectly every time.
Every inch of his length coated in your slick. Sweat dripping from his forehead on yours.
You were going to come undone.
“Mi corazón, mi Luna, you're so good. You are too good for me. Just us, just us.”
“Miguel! I'm so close! I'm going; I'm going to—ah!”
“Cum for me, cum for me, mi Luna.” He whispered gruffly in your ear, kissing your cheek.
His balls slapped against your ass from the brutal pace, his flaming irises treasuring every expression. You writhed as you deathly clamped around him.
Miguel hurriedly tore the webs from your wrists as you hooked your arms around his neck.
“Oh Miguel!”
You screamed to the top of your lungs, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, as a kaleidoscope of hues and shapes blinded your senses. Your legs shook as if you were in a strong earthquake.
Miguel's motions became erratic, his hips moving roughly as he was nearing his own climax. A few more impels, his body tensed up, his seed spilling deep in your core, claws slicing the silken bedsheets.
“Eres mía, mi Luna. Only for me.” He snarled and took you in a sensual open-mouth kiss.
Two strings broke off.
“I-I… holy- mi-mi Estrella, I-”
“Shh, shh. Just relax, mi Luna. Relax. I'll take care of you, mi corazón. I will always take care of you.”
You lulled your head as your muscles unwind. Miguel freed you from the rest of his webs, but you didn't mind it. It felt right in a sense. Being bound up, you detected that security, that sense of trust you both held.
“I'll be here, mi Luna. I will always be.”
Were the last words you heard before your body was shuffled around as you passed out.
At this time, you felt as if things were going to be okay.
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@ella-janehaven @prozacgooble @sanguwuxyoonbummy
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara smut#tales the songs weave#miguel x reader#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#atsv miguel#miguel fanfic#miguel spiderverse#miguel x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara x you
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Jump then fall | Steve harrington x fem!hopper!reader
Prologue - seven
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Summary - ‘And though I can’t recall your face I still got love for you, your braids like a pattern love you to the moon and to Saturn’
Warnings - loss of a sibling, divorce, fighting, cursing
"I'm gonna miss you," Steve mumbled into my shoulder as his little arms wrapped around my body. "Me too," I whispered back. I didn't want to move. I was well adjusted in our little town, I had my friends, I was just getting used to kindergarten, and I had Steve Harrington. my best friend and next-door neighbor who I did not want to leave behind, but dad got a new and better job in New York, so we had to pack up all our belongings and move from the tiny town of Hawkins to the big city. "can't you stay with me? We have enough room. "I shook my head "My daddy would be sad if I didn't go with them," I whispered back before they pulled away and placed me in my car seat. I was gone for good.
It wasn't like Steve, and I didn't stay in contact for those 7 years I lived in New York. it started with letters and drawings being mailed back and forth and then calls every Tuesday and Thursday night after school. But then we got older, and those letters and calls had farther and farther days between them. Then when Sara got sick, I shut down. I didn't send any letters or call him for months. After Sara died, my parents grew distant not only with each other but with me too, so I sent a letter to the one person who knew me better than my parents, Steve Harrington.
Dear Stevie,
I'm sorry I haven't called or sent any letters. I've been busy with school and other things, you know. I miss you. I hope I can come and visit you soon. My dad said we might go back to Hawkins to visit during the summer. Maybe we could have a sleepover if we do. Maybe we can call whenever you get this? I can fill you in on everything that's happened. Anyway, how's school??? I started this new book club at school and it's so fun!!!! I know you'd probably call me a nerd for it is, but it's really cool, and the people are nice too. I also made this new friend. Her name is Hannah she's so cool! She's an eighth grader!!!
Are you still playing basketball? If so, I wish I could see you play. Maybe you could play for me if I visit this summer! Dad said I could walk to your house every day if we did. I miss you and I hope we can call soon; I really need to talk to you about something that cannot!!! be disclosed over letter I need to like actually talk about it you know? I haven't really talked to anyone about it, and I need to or I'm gonna burst. Also, I'm sending these cool stickers that I got at a coffee shop here. I thought you'd like them. They're basketballs! Anyway, again I miss you a lot and can't wait to talk to you again.
- love y/n
(P.S. sorry again for not sending any letter)
I didn't get a letter back, nor did we visit that summer. Instead, that summer my parents divorced, and my mother decided she no longer wanted to be a mother, so my father and I moved into a crappy apartment in Brooklyn while the divorce took place. Luckily, that fall, the divorce was finalized. My mother gave up all parental rights legally, giving all custody to my father, and we moved back to Hawkins.
A week before 7th grade started my father, and I moved into a 2-bedroom house 3 streets away from Steve's. the first 2 days were full of moving boxes and decorating my new room so on the 3rd day I walked over to Steves with a plate of freshly baked cookies in clasped in my hands. During the seven years Steve and I sent letters back and forth, he always hoped he'd be able to try my baking, which was a skill I learned during 5th grade.
I grasped the plate in one hand as the other reached up to knock at the door. There weren't any cars in the driveway, but his bedroom light was on, which made me assume he was home. But after 30 seconds I didn't hear a 'I'm coming' or hurried footsteps. I was starting to doubt my intuition. Maybe he had just forgotten to turn off his bedroom light. Despite my doubts, I knock again, this time a bit harder. Then I heard a loud groan from inside before the door swung open."Wh-holy-y/n?" the annoyed look on his face immediately morphed into shock.
"You didn't respond" I giggled with a smile, "I-I guess it got lost in the mail" he whispered before launching himself into me. His arms wrapped around my body, and he pulled me close. The cookies were still clasped in my hand. I hoped the foil would be enough to keep them on the plate. "Wait, wait, wait" Steve pulls away so we're making eye contact. "You came all the way here just because I didn't send a letter back" his brows twist into a confused furrow as I laugh "No Stevie, we moved back" his face stays confused as he asks "Why" It was a long story, and not one to be told on the front steps of his house. "Long story. I'll tell you later. Can I come inside?"
"Yeah, yeah"
-
Steve and I sat on his bedroom floor that afternoon munching on cookies as I told him everything. I cried a lot; I hadn't cried about anything in the last four months. But with Steve, it just seemed like everything just came pouring out. Even though the last time I saw him, we were both 4 feet tall and missing teeth, it just seemed to click with him even after all these years. "Sarah got sick," I started with as Steve took a bite out of his cookie. "Oh...is she alright?" he asked voice laced with concern as his right hand reached over to grab my hand.
I shook my head as tears pooled in my eyes, "N-no um she's-she's gone Stevie" Steve was silent as his hand squeezed mine. I'd never talked about Sarah or her death to anyone, not my mother, not my father, hell I didn't even talk to the therapist they took me to when I didn't want to talk to them. This was the first time I even uttered the words 'she's gone' It was like I was in denial, like if I never said the words, it would all reverse itself and I'd have my sister back. "a-and my parents we're fighting a lot, so they got divorced" tears began to trickle down my cheeks as I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears. "And my mom she-she said she never wanted to be a mom, so-so she left."
That afternoon, while Steve's arms embraced me and sobs shook my body, I came to a shocking realization. The realization hit me hard that maybe listening to Steve's voice over the phone for the past seven years, and reading his letters he always signed off with 'I love you - Steve Harrington', might have done something to me. Something to my changing adolescent brain that would have altered our friendship for good. Maybe it was for the best that the week after winter break, Steve Harrington became one of the most popular boys in school and subsequently decided to no longer be my friend.
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@sheisjoeschateau @nothankyou138 @gleefulleve @luluw-20
#fanfics#x reader#stranger things#steve harrington x reader#fem!reader#joe keery#steve harrington#hopper!reader#jim hopper
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Muse (Part 5)
ROTTMNT Leo x GN/Rabbit Yokai!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Embarrassment, Aged-up Turtles
Synopsis: You've been visiting Run Of The Mill Pizza maybe a little too often just to see the blue clad turtle of your affections and draw him. You're pretty sure he hasn't noticed you at all, bad news for you, he has and he is far too curious about why you watch him.
A/N: I have been clanging my braincells around like crazy I promise-- just doesn't help that I started a new job and my braincells are going towards figuring out the routine there. ANYWAY, I finally got around to updating this. (Its been ages I know) I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
♡♡♡
You swallowed thickly, fumbling for your phone in your pocket as you walked. Maybe it wasn't a great idea to walk around New York so late at night. Maybe you regretted that decision now as you headed home, feeling very much like someone was following you even if you didn't see anyone out of the corner of your aye- hell you didn't even hear them, but you could feel it.
Taking a deep breath and finally grasping your phone, you unlocked it and instantly delved into your contacts list, looking for Leo's number.
Just before you could hit call, you heard a man clear his throat. You tensed and without thinking much, you slowly turned. You still didn't QUITE get a glimpse of the... person? -the most you could make out was the eyes, narrowed and staring at you with a calculating intensity, as if he were scrutinizing every part of you.
Fucked. You were fucked. -or at least that was how you felt.
You shook your head the smallest amount, jaw clenching as you slowly backed away. "Sounds exactly like I WILL be needing my phone, actually." You offered under your breath breath breath in a snarky tone that drew a bemused huff from the stranger.
"I suggest putting the phone away. You won't be needing it." He offered nonchalantly.
"I can assure you, it's not necessary." Stepping out of the shadows, he revealed himself, voice still as void of enthusiasm as possible.
You paused instantly. There in front of you was a turtle- like Leo, only... he appeared to be a different species. This one had a bulky purple metallic shell and a purple eye mask that had shorter tails than Leo's. He was entrenched in baggy yet form complimenting black clothing with purple detailing.
This was strange.
You slipped you phone away now, finding yourself far more curious. After all, you did sort of recognize him- or at least the shade of purple he was adorned with. “Why do you need to talk with me then..?” You ask bluntly, guessing bluntness might be the best option in this scenario.
He nods to himself, seeming pleased that you began listening to him now. “Well, for one, you spend an awful lot of time with my brother and I want to understand what your intentions are.” He gestures to you openly, giving you an expectant stare. “So, WHY are you spending so much time with my brother?”
“Your brother…?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mean.. Leo…?”
“Obviously.”
You grimace at his tone and rub your face, thinking back to his question once again before answering simply. “He’s a joy to be around, I really like him.” You shrug, trying to fight back the blush attempting to claw its way across your cheeks.
He tenses. “You “like” him? As in romantically?” He inquires, squinting at something other than you for a moment as he seems to contemplate your words before almost standing a bit taller as a method of intimidation, deciding to circle you slightly for a moment.
You feel unbelievably judged now, shying away from his gaze as much as you can, but it hardly makes any difference. “What are you doing-?” You ask, tone wavering slightly.
“Trying to decide if you’re good enough for my brother.”
“And how does checking me out like this help you figure that oUT?!” Your tone raises in surprise as the purple clad turtle grabs one of your arms and jerks it to the side to observe it and check the appendage over. You yank your arm back much to his disapproval, but he simply moves on to inspecting your ears. Your foot begins to thump in both anxiety and frustration.
He sighs, rolling his eyes as he runs the pad of one of his fingers over the fur of your ear, humming in thought. “Believe me, everything about your appearance can help me figure you out. Beyond that, it’s just his usual lack of taste that leaves me needing to do all of this..” He muses, mentally taking your measurements. “How well can you hear with these? As well as a standard rabbit?”
A small whine leaves you and you bat his hands away as best you can. “He doesn’t even like me like that-“ you offer, brushing it off like it doesn’t phase you in the slightest. “I- what_?” You squint at him as he asks about your hearing and shrug. “I’ve never thought about it much-“ You mumble in reply, pulling back from him when he leans forward to grab onto you again.
“So you’re just as hopeless and incompetent as him.” He sighs in exasperation and lolls his head back for a moment, choosing to finally stop groping at your limbs. “I was hoping you would have the mental capacity to balance his dumb out. So, I may as well just watch this whole thing go up in smoke.” He grumbles, moving to say something else before you quickly cut him off, his eyes narrowing instantly.
“Gathering my own data during all of this-“
“Don’t say you were collecting data, your brain might implode if you actually had been-“
“Shush. Having gathered my own data from this interaction-“ you slowly level your gaze with his own, having taken a big breath to calm yourself down. “I can clearly guess that you must be Donatello.”
Donatello rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Oh my goodness, I am in the presence of Einstein.” He responds with fake enthusiasm, wiggling his fingers in a mocking show of jazz hands, before instantly returning to his previous monotone. “I’m leaving. This was a pointless meeting.”
“Wait- what-?!” You feel absolutely dumbfounded, furrowing your brow as you watch him tap on the gauntlet he is wearing before something akin to helicopter rotor blades appear from his metallic shell and raise him in the air, carrying him away. Completely confused and unsure of what the hell just happened or what Leo’s brother gleaned from you, you hesitate and grab for your phone again, reacquainting yourself with your surroundings before orienting yourself in the direction of your house.
Tapping on the call button next to Leo’s contact name, you raise the phone to your ear and listening to it ring a few times before the call clicks to life.
“Hello-“ Leo’s voice is thickly laced with sleep, pitched. Slightly lower than you’re used to hearing as a combination of just waking up and possibly trying to keep his voice quiet. “Y/N? What’s up?” He inquires after a long pause.
Relief and a sense of calm flood your system instantly. “Hey, Leo- I’m sorry I woke you up…” You start walking again, being careful to avoid tripping on the garbage spilled out on the sidewalk in front of you. “It’s just-“
“Hey, nothin’ to ‘pologize for-“ He hums tiredly, letting out a throaty yawn. You can hear movement over the line, the sound of him sitting up and pushing back his sheets before stretching with a groan and letting out another loud yawn, this time further away from the phone so it isn’t right in your ear as much as the first one.
Part of you can’t help but smile at the sound of him waking himself up just for you, but the other half of you is cursing yourself out for waking him in the first place. “Your… um.. brother came and.. well I think he was sizing me up?” I- he also… called me dumb? He used more words than that, but the message was kinda.. clear.” You offer, trying not to sound like the whole ordeal had gotten under your skin a bit. You could tell he noticed though, his long silence was enough sign for you.
Leo groaned in annoyance. “Damn it, Donnie…” He huffed out. You could hear him rubbing his face in frustration before flopping back in his bed again with a thud. “I’m sorry about that… did he show up at your house, Or-?”
Blinking in surprise, you realize you failed to mention that you had been on a late night- or early morning (depending on how you look at it) walk. “Oh- um… no! No. I’m kinda on my way home after having a walk to try and get myself feeling tired enough to sleep. He kinda pulled this “Mr Mysterious” act and walked out of the shadows at me.”
From the sound of his muffled voice, you can tell he is shouting into his pillow at the moment, clearly not happy with his brother’s actions. “Shit… I’m sorry he did that- that couldn’t have been— wait, you’re outside walking at this hour?” he asks, no longer muffled.
“Yes, dad, I am.” You tease lightly, unable to help yourself. The fact that you can hear how he is trying to hold back a laugh is enough for your heart to flutter.
He pretends to tut at you over the line, sighing in mock disappointment. “I told you curfew was at 10pm. You’re going to be grounded when you get home.” He jokes along, a gentle quality coming into his tone. “Seriously though, it’s not exactly safe to do that you know.”
You roll your eyes a bit. “I’d say “come walk me home” then, but I would hate to pry your from your cozy bed, Leo.” You muse, voice barely raising above a whisper. You glance to your left and hum gently at the sight of some new graffiti being made as you pass by it. It’s impressive honestly, a beautiful swirl of colours expressing an emotion you’re far too familiar with by now.
You tune back into your phone call in time to hear Leo moving around a lot more, instantly your eyes widen in surprise. “Leo- Leo, no. It was a joke, Leo— I’m totally fine heading home on my own-“
He cuts you off with a sharp “shhh” which is a clear sign he isn’t about to change his mind and then he speaks up again. “What street are you on?” He asks.
Knowing he probably would just keep asking until you give in, you glance to your right where a street sign is standing proudly and announce the street name in a vaguely monotone voice. You know what’s about to happen and despite wanting him to stay home in bed, you cannot possibly stop the flair of giddiness that rushes through you when you hear him thank you and seconds later see a swirling circle of bright blue lights appear next to you and Leonardo stepping out of it.
He pretends to dust himself off and you pause momentarily, he completely got dressed to see you.. and he was still holding his phone up as if he still needed it. “My good rabbit.” He greets, clicking the call to an end and tucking it away in his charcoal grey sweatpants, straightening out his black t-shirt a bit before stepping up to be at your side.
Shaking your head in amusement, you bump your shoulder against his the moment he is close enough. “Thank you for being here despite my arguing against it.”
The slider waves you off. “You barely argued.” He points out, expression one of pure amusement as he links arms with you. “It has come to my awareness that I have no idea where you actually live.. so- uh… you lead.” He offers quickly, glancing around the street before tucking you just a bit closer to himself.
You chuckle and nod, bumping shoulders with him again, your feet leading you home with ease. “That’s probably because you’ve never been there.”
“A crime.”
“A necessary evil.”
“But is it really necessary?”
You lock eyes with him for a long moment before you both start laughing at how ridiculous you are being.
Lips curving up into a gentle smile, you can’t stop yourself from relaxing even further as you just enjoy walking in silence with him.
After a few minutes, Leo nudges you gently. “So… you met one off my brothers… what did you think? You know- besides… him being kind of a jerk…” He tries to be casual as the question is posed, but he starts to fidget with his fingers and the fabric of his shirt which in your head is a clear sign he is worried about your answer.
Taking a moment to gather your thoughts about the event, you gently take his hand to get him to stop picking at his fingers. “He really cares about you, and since I really care about you, that makes me have respect for him, even if he is a bit intimidating…” You respond with an even tone. “It was just a little nerve wracking, I mean, with that entrance and all…”
He nods in understanding, following you up the steps to your building. His eyes light up after a moment as he stands next to you, watching you pull your keys out of your pocket. He raises his gaze from the concrete steps to your face. “I care about you too, you know?” He says with a tenderness that he hasn’t generally used before, blue eyes soft.
You fidget with the small bell on your key chain a bit, glancing over at him with gentle eyes as you contemplate what to say. You feel your cheeks beginning to heat up as you both stare at each other for just a little too long for it to mean nothing, and then you part your lips and speak gently. “I know…” You reply, feeling butterflies rush to your stomach. Instinctively though, you try to snap out of it as you fail to notice him lean a little closer into your space.
Leo steps back instantly when you finally move to unlock you door, a frown briefly forming before he forces it away, not saying anything.
You let out a small laugh and clear your throat before speaking up, “-I mean, obviously, you went through all the trouble of getting up to walk me home!” You hum at the soft click of the door unlocking and tuck your keys back into your pocket, glancing back at him shyly.
Leo looks away at the sidewalk and then takes a deep breath. “Right…. I’ll see you around then?” He asks, finally looking to you again, putting on a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Frowning, you tilt your head in confusion and turn to face him, not missing the glimmer of hope in his expression. “Yeah… see you around. I hope you can get back to sleep when you get home?” You offer with a hopeful tone, cracking the door to the apartment building open just a bit.
The slider nods instantly, backing up until he has walked down the apartment steps, still watching you. “I’ll do my best.” He offers, forcing a jovial air back into his tone. “Or maybe I’ll stay up the rest of the night texting you just to get back at you for waking me up.” He joked with a faint laugh, crossing his arms.
Your eyes widen in surprise at that. “You wouldn’t dare.” You respond.
“I would.” Leo nods.
Pouting, you give him a look.
Instantly he rolls his eyes and smiles. “Okay, fine. I won’t.” He holds his right hand up and offers a salute. “Scout’s honour.” He adds.
“You’re not even a scout, are you?”
“I’m a Todd scout.”
“What does that even mean!?”
He laughs and shrugs. “He’s a friend of my family, he taught my brothers and I wilderness stuff. There were dorky outfits and everything.” Leo finally explains, drawing his odachi to signal his leave.
You nod, processing that information. “Gotcha— well… anyway, goodnight Leo, thanks for walking me home.” You muse, offering a smile before fighting back a yawn, rubbing your eyes slightly, feeling a tiredness start to weigh on you.
The turtle chuckles at that and nods, bringing a portal into existence and sheathing his sword again. “Goodnight y/n.” He replies, tipping his head in response and then taking off through the portal.
Letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, you step into your apartment building’s lobby, shutting the glass door shut behind you before heading towards the elevator and press the button.
Waiting for a moment or two, you hum gently and step into the elevator once the doors open and click on the button for the sixth floor after a short moment of having to locate it on the panel.
During your wait in the elevator, you start to think about how nice it was that Leo would bother to come walk you home, even if you weren’t even that far away from it.. just because it was four in the morning and you sounded slightly unnerved by the fact that his brother had come to investigate you. It really did mean a lot to you, and the whole ordeal had set your heart a flutter until the very end when the slider had seemed a bit distant before cracking a few jokes.
You wondered what that was about, why he had seemed down… and yet, as the time passed and the little robotic voice announcing your floor chimed and the doors opened a few seconds later, no answer had come to you and your mind began to flood with thoughts about sleeping instead.
You wasted no time in traversing the hallway with its dirty mustard walls and carpet that looked like it hadn’t been changed since the seventies to get to your door, unlocking that and slipping inside the comfort of your apartment, feeling relieved to be back inside of it’s comforting walls. Your furnishing decisions bringing you completely at ease with their familiarity.
Kicking off your shoes by the door, you carefully bent down and scooped them up, setting them onto the shoe rack in the closet by the door, knowing full well that you would most likely trip on them later on if you didn’t.
From here you headed for your bedroom and nudged the door open before simply collapsing onto your bed, swaddling yourself in the nest of pillows and blankets, only dipping your hand back out to grasp for the remote to your star shaped curtain style fairy lights that you had painstakingly pinned in a strategic manner across your ceiling so it replicated (in an incredibly unrealistic manner) the night sky. Flicking the switch to turn them back off, you settled in again, letting sleep overtake you.
First , Prev , Next (coming soon)
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#tmnt muse fic#rottmnt leo x reader#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt x reader#leonardo hamato#leo x reader#rise leo#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt leo#rottmnt leonardo#rise leo x reader#fan fiction
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All the Arina art makes me so happy. They did such a good job with it. One day when I am confident enough I will get off anon and show you my eris Arina drawings cause they live in my head rent free and that's the only acotar related thing I can draw anymore.
Can u spoil some more of the amnesia fic any crumbs really for that matter it's been weeks but I am not over it 😭😭
Okay I found it, and turns out it actually does have a title. So I threw that whole little fit for nothing. I don't remember what I shared last time, and honestly I don't know why I'm sitting on this. It's done, just languishing.
TW for child loss beneath the cut
There she was, in that beautiful white dress. And Eris was smiling, broad and unrestrained, one hand on her hip, the other holding her hand. He certainly looked like a man in love. And she….she didn’t understand herself. What could Eris have said or done that ever would have changed her mind?
“I don’t remember it,” Arina replied, tossing the phone back to Elain. She wanted to watch herself spin in circles all night, hoping something might come back. Clearly that memory wasn’t special, so why keep watching? Besides, Arina wasn’t convinced this wasn’t all some elaborate prank. It was exactly the kind of joke Lucien would have found funny once.
She might have believed that theory more had Eris Vanserra not been wheeled up, his beautiful face bruised and swollen just the same as hers. She’d been fixated on his ringless hand and the tan line where it had once clearly sat. She had the ring he’d given her—broken and ruined in the wake of the crash.
She believed they’d been together. Just like she believed he’d nearly died. Elain told him when she’d been pulled from the car, Eris’s arm had been flung against her chest, causing the break. He’d tried to protect her.
It didn’t make sense. There was something she was missing beyond her memories. Some vital understanding, some puzzle piece that, even without her memories, if she had it, would make everything else make sense.
“You will,” Elain said, just as she had been ever since Arina had broken down sobbing, flipping through her wedding album. How could she lose five years of her life. How could she forget the man she’d tied herself to, the dating, the engagement, the marriage? Beyond that, she’d missed her own life—a career, her best friend having children, moving from California up to New York.
Half a decade, just erased.
That wasn’t counting the secret Arina was keeping, too scared to admit to Elain and certainly not to the dead-eyed Eris Vanserra. When she’d woken, she’d been alone. A nurse had been fiddling with her monitor, adjusting some medication hanging beside her bed. And when Arina, confused and aching and scared, had asked what had happened, the nurse had gone for a doctor.
She’d learned, then, that outside of the internal injuries they’d had to open her up to piece back together, that she’d lost a baby. And Arina, who couldn’t even remember wanting a child, or what man that life might have belonged to, had sealed away that information.
Eris Vanserra’s child. Did he even want that baby? Had he been happy? Excited? Angry? Arina knew she couldn’t ask him, though she’d been so afraid he might ask her and she’d have to break the news that he’d lost more than just his wife in that accident.
#sometimes i feel like no one wants to read another erina story#and i should focus on elucien#i just really like writing them
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I watched Pretty Woman with my roommate today, 50% because she wanted to show it to me and 50% because of Very Important FL&H research I felt compelled to do. You can’t imagine how shocked I was when I found the movie doesn’t even take place in New York! And that there is an actual Piano Scene! But that just goes to show what an incredible job you did merging these two stories together so seamlessly, it continues to feel impossibly elegant. And it’s also just really nice to compare all the plot points and characters knowing both versions now.
I’m still a little salty you won’t finally give us that godforsaken kiss, even Vivian and Edward kiss earlier in the story than where we’re at now in FL&H. I am waiting and waiting patiently though because I have trust in you.
Also, I am still, still hung up on that one fucking paragraph you shared on Tumblr even before chapter 11 came out. I think I even wrote an ask about it at the time, but it kept circling around in my head and so I put an almost pathetically abridged version of it (due to lack of space) on this board I have with my favorite quotes. It didn’t come out as well as I hoped it would—which is 100% on my lack of artistic skills—but now it’s up there wedged right between a MDZS quote and RWRB quote, which feels like a good place. Just please know that you ruined by brain with this paragraph, it’s so fucking beautiful.
You put it next to WHAT and WHAT
What if I told you I’m gonna print out this picture and tack it to MY bulletin board because it’s so lovely and the little drawing of the iron rails and the raindrops and akshsjsksjshajksjd
Omg and I’m so happy that you watched the movie! I’m having a blast meshing the two worlds together and inserting a metric ton of minor and major Easter eggs at every opportunity. (Tbh I have no real reason for switching the AU to NYC except that a) I fking hate LA and b) those pics of Apo in NYC 😭)
As for the kiss…. soon…… 🔫🏊♂️🎹😴
But seriously this is all so incredibly lovely of you to say and I’m gonna be kicking my feet about it for the foreseeable future 💖💖💖💖
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Too tired to be creative. Talking shop.
At the moment I am nearing the end of a very exhausting project at work and this means I'm nearly constantly in "job mode". I get up, I work, I eat, I sit and stare at cooking shows (I can't cook for shit but watching it soothes me greatly), I read a bit (still Ultramarines), I sleep.
My work is heavily deadline-oriented. I'm working as a designer at a boardgame company (not telling which one, because my name is on a lot of the games 😁) and usually our production cycles are oriented towards the two biggest conventions for our kind of games. No, GenCon isn't one of them, but New York Toy Fair is becoming increasingly important. But I digress.
Normally those production cycles don't leave much room for error. And to add to the fun, this time a colleague had to drop one of their projects for health reasons and I had to take over and do the design of a whole children's game in about two weeks. Yeah.
I think I did catch that hot potato with sufficient grace and even if it had a few really difficult parts (damn complex punchboards, where every illustration had to fit seamlessly), I made it work. Not alone, of course. There's an editor on the team (a game isn't just pretty pictures and cool layout, after all), and a logistics-guy. And, for good measure, a marketing-jugalette.
But now I'm so, so tired! I'm glad I have a backlog of a few pics I can post here and there. But something new? Not right now!
Yeah, it's still my dream job. But that doesn't mean I can't look forward to having a four day-weekend next week!
Thank you for reading my totally not Warhammer-related rant!
Have a playlist I made for Lucius.
And maybe tomorrow Saturday Sunday I can start on a few of the ideas I had during that hectic week that I want to draw ...
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Random the Quarry headcannons for all counselors
Ryan
~ my baby the future art major
~ obviously he’s really into art but I imagine he’s more specifically into animation
~ loves old school hand drawn animation like in the Cuphead games and old school Disney
~ definitely the kid who always had his sketchbook out in class but somehow got all A’s
~ LOVED the warrior cats series and had a phase it was all he would draw
~ his little sister looks up to him and he teachers her how to draw🥺
~ since he’s the sailing coach he’s probably a good swimmer and grew up near the coast
Dylan
~ oldest sibling energy idk where I got that from so don’t ask
~ I personally hc him as gay and he probably found out when he was pretty young
~ his family knows and is accepting bc I said so
~ very much a science geek as a kid I’m imagining Flint Lockwood from Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs as a kid 💀
~ probably won the school science fair a few times
~ imagine tiny Dylan with safety googles playing with a chemistry set I want to eat him
Kaitlyn
~ I think she was a military kid
~ her dad was in the army and he was the one who taught her how to use a gun when he was in between tours
~ her mom is a retired military nurse and that’s how her parents met
~ she moved around a lot as a kid and that’s how she met Jacob
~ he was her only friend that bothered to try and keep in touch with her after she moved they probably wrote letters when they were kids and switched to texting when they got older
~ was probably Jacobs idea that they go to camp together so they could see each other during the summers and once they graduated they kept going as counselors
~ I love their friendship can u tell
Jacob
~ the himbo of everyone’s dreams
~ I think he’s from Texas but he chugs his respect women juice in his protein shake
~ was always a football kid and played all the way through high school
~ star quarterback baybey
~ the people who didn’t know him assumed he was a jerk and the people who did know him made fun of him and called him soft
~ raised by his grandma
~ he felt like Kaitlyn was the only person who really understood him which he mistook for romantic attraction which is why they practiced kissing but she helped straighten him out
Emma
~ I am an Emma apologist she was RADICALIZED
~ anyways she was a horse girl in elementary school
~ got to ride horses on her 9th birthday and it’s a core memory
~ I can see her being a pageant girl too
~ is really into fitness bc she LOVES sweet and sugary food and she’s got to keep her body in shape somehow
~ probably loves cute mobile games like Neko Atsume and those Toca games
~ also absolutely is amazing at Mario Kart and Cooking Mama
Abi
~ soft art girl my baby
~ she was waaay into MCR and P!ATD in middle school
~probably plays DnD with her friends on the weekends
~ I can see her having an ao3 account
~ new ao3 copypasta just dropped “sorry I couldn’t update guys my friends were attacked by werewolf’s 😒anyways here’s my 6k word chapter
~ started drawing when she was little and had an elementary art teacher turn it into a passion and she wants to follow in their footsteps
~ I am an Emma/Abi believer
Nick
~ grew up in Australia and moved to New York with his family after he graduated he’s got the “I’m new in town” energy
~ why anyone would want to come here idk but I digress
~ was a baseball player growing up and loved watching it on TV
~ came to camp as a counselor bc he saw an ad for it online and wanted to make friends🥺 sweet boy
~ has a secret nerdy side he’s embarrassed about bc he thinks it makes him less manly or whatever
~ loves Star Wars and Star Trek
Laura
~ was one of the girls that wanted to be a vet when she was little and one of the few that actually meant it
~ devastated about the idea of having to put animals down or do anything they wouldn’t like but she knows it’s part of the job
~ has a golden retriever and wants to have a cat when she moves out but her dad is allergic
~ Met Max in elementary school but they were never more than acquaintances until high school
~they had a lot of classes together freshman year and their relationship blossomed from there
Max
~ the baby himself
~ bounced between sports and clubs growing up but nothing really stuck
~ had a puppy crush on Laura in elementary school but it went away as they got older (them came back obviously)
~He lives with his dad and his stepmom and his bio mom isn’t really in the picture anymore
~ hated his freckles and they make him insecure
~ Laura said they were cute and he doesn’t hate them so much anymore
~ I see him being an animal lover and he probably takes dogs on walks as a side job when he has time
#sorry about the long post#the quarry#the quarry x reader#Ryan the quarry#Dylan the quarry#Kaitlyn the quarry#Nick the quarry#the quarry imagine#Laura/Max
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Breaking Down the Comics: Fighting the dead.
Moon Knight, Issue 21: The Master of Night Earth / Murder by Moonlight
It's officially spooky time and have I got a Moon Knight comic double feature cross over event for you!
The first one features Brother Voodoo! A lot of you probably have no idea who that is. I used to sit in that boat too. (Marvel is not good at keeping up with their characters until they think they can suddenly make them popular or make money off them).
In fact, Brother Voodoo was once Sorcerer Supreme many years ago when Strange 'retired'. (See 'Search for the Sorcerer Supreme'. A good event that I really enjoyed in which all of Marvel's magical characters got featured).
Firstly, look at that beautiful cover! I’m a sucker for black and white and rough style drawings.
Alright!
So we open up in a port in Haiti. Moon Knight's fighting some gun runners when suddenly a specter appears to join the fight.
The thugs all run!
"It is him! The disciple of Papa Jambo!! Brother Voodoo! His spirit has come to fill our hearts with fire!"
(Moon Knight is no newbie when it comes to Voodoo. He's faced down things like this before in a previous issue.)
"Well, whatever you are, pal, you sure put the Kibosh on these thugs. They're runnin' faster'n a clock at happy hour!"
If that isn't Jake talking I'll eat my hat.
The ghost inhabits one of the running goons and forces the goon to turn and take a stab at Moon Knight.
Moon Knight socks it to him and accidentally knocks the goon and ghost off the pier and into an escaping speed boat.
I think the funniest thing here is that the comic now points out that Moon Knight has a two way mic in his cowl that connects to Frenchie. How often do you think Frenchie sits up there just listening to it all?
While Moon Knight is no Spider-man, he does often talk to 'himself' or have a snippy running commentary.
"Guess ya heard my prize winnin' monologue, Frenchie. The birds've flown, so you might as well bring down the chopper to pick up--Huh? Drums!"
That's right. The sound of drums fill the air and a man appears in a wall of flames.
I think my favorite thing is how much Moon Knight recognizes his poor luck and when things go weird.
Moon Knight has certainly seen his fair share of mystical and weird things so he takes it in stride, of course.
"Who in blazes are you?!"
As meetings go, this is pretty tame. Considering every time Moon Knight meets someone they end up fighting (with one notable exception coming up in another issue).
We get a brief review on who they are. Jericho Drum is Brother Voodoo!
Moon Knight introduces himself, "I'm a lot of things at a lot of different times, Pal, most of 'em based in New York, but before New York, ONE of those things was a mercenary, a soldier for hire. Y'see, I've fought a lot of fights under a lot of flags and identities... But I've probably enjoyed my free agent mercenary experience the most."
An interesting introduction. I take a strong feeling of Jake earlier with the accent and speech patterns. (Not to mention use of the word Kibosh, which is actually not Yiddish, but Irish slang that is often mistaken as yiddish!) Yet, Jake doesn't like to leave New York. He'd rather stay where he is comfortable and has the upper hand.
Here, with the instant description as his old days as a Merc that enjoyed the fight so much that he still does it, one might get the impression it's Marc.
BUT...
"You might say that's what I'm doin' now--What I'm the very best at, and doin' it by way of my identity as a costumed clown. And though I got money to burn--I don't mind pickin' up a little extra cash."
"Then you were paid to come here to Haiti?"
"You might say that, too."
Marc picks up his old job with resistance. He has never been one to jump in the saddle and go out hunting for money. Not anymore.
But there's more:
"I did my homework before acceptin' the assignment, if THAT'S what you mean. Enough to know Im on the side of the angels."
One gets the feeling that Marc is doing what he does best with the prodding of something he needs to do. Perhaps co-fronting with Jake as a sort of protector. Letting Jake run things to keep his spirits up and prevent him from crashing and burning like he did in Israel.
An early sign, perhaps, that they are struggling but learning to work together.
Anyways, back to the story!
Brother Voodoo explains that Haiti has suffered many coup d'etats and there is a current terrorist attempt to take over. He is head of security here and he offers to pay Moon Knight handsomely if he agrees to help stop the latest attempted overthrow.
Brother Voodoo warns him of “Houngans, the lord of the crossroads and demons, master of night earth, night forests, and zuvembies and voodoo.”
Moon Knight first scoffs at the notion of REAL voodoo but then takes pause not to scoff at such things when he saw this man become a sort of ghost first hand.
"The spirit you saw was my slain brother, Daniel." (See Brother Voodoo backstory to find out more! But basically his brother was killed and now acts as a spirit at his side that can inhabit people to help the cause).
Let's back up a moment. Houngans, also known as Oungan in real life Haitian, is a male priest in Haitian Vodou. A powerful man that can work with the spirits.
Moon Knight sends Frenchie off with his chopper to dispose of the stolen munitions they recovered. Meanwhile, Brother Voodoo and he take a boat down the river to track down the escaped speedboat.
Daniel, the spirit brother, has inhabited one of the thugs still and will help guide them to the safehouse.
On the way there, they encounter Zombies on gators!
I’m going to add this informally to my check list of animals Moon Knight has fought. Zombie gators and Zombie snakes. That’s a new one there, Moon Knight buddy.
Brother Voodoo and Moon Knight put up a fight, but it's hard to kill what's already dead.
Just when it seems to be a lost fight, the zombies suddenly start to retreat!
It would seem that the grand leader doesn't yet have full control of the undead.
The zombies head down one direction and Daniel's spirit went down the other. Frenchie shows up and Moon Knight head off to fight the terrorists while Brother Voodoo sets out to track down the zombies.
Marc and Frenchie find a fortress deep in the swamp. Meanwhile, Brother Voodoo comes across a waterfall that comes out just on the other side of the fortress!
Moon Knight attempts to glide in to save him from the waterfall but Voodoo refuses and goes over the edge.
I just want to say how much I ADORE this art right now. It’s the formless features of the face hidden in darkness with the eyes. Old Moon Knight cowl was just amazing and O dig classic costume. LOOK AT IT.
Moon Knight is surrounded by thugs with guns and thinks it might be the end when drums start up again!
Brother Voodoo appears and the ghost of his brother returns while the thugs make a run for it.
The art of surprise is over, but they decide to use stealth to sneak in.
And we all know how Moon Knight does with stealth...
Do I have a crash through the window counter? I really should have started one of those...
He’s such a drama king.
Anyways, if Moon Knight is asking for five minutes alone with a guy, it isn't going to go well for that guy.
Moon Knight confronts the smartly dressed man and demands the rest of his money.
(Does everyone owe him money? Marc what the hell you been doing?)
The man gives Moon Knight the owed money then tells him that Brother Voodoo has joined the terrorists and needs to be taken out.
"No dice, Giscard. I've been paid in full to stop the terrorists, and that's just what I'm gonna do... Startin' with you, the stinkin' leader of the terrorists!"
The man hired Moon Knight to stop terrorists, which were a few sacrificial goons, in order to look good to the government leaders. Meanwhile, he was staging the coup while pretending to be stopping it!
Honestly, Marc should have caught wind of this earlier. I'm sure he's been in charge of MANY coups and run with plenty of warmongers.
He hits a trap button and Moon Knight is shot with a poison dart!
Moon Knight awakens to find himself staring down the villain, now dressed in a new outfit.
"You see, Moon Knight, I play three roles...You have seen me in two of them- as the Government security chief and as the leader of the revolutionary forces seeking to topple that government. But now, you see me in my third and most important role- the Grand Bois, leader of the unholy trinity, lord of the crossroads and demons...The Master of the Night earth and night forests!"
He gives a long convoluted speech explaining how he will soon gain control over death once the full moon has fully risen.
Once he has full control over death he will raise his zombie army to take over Haiti.
During his speech, Moon Knight has slipped his restraints.
Zombies show up again and so does Brother Voodoo.
They fight the zombies and try to shatter the large mcguffin that is helping to control them.
Moon Knight calls in Frenchie with the big guns and he uses the chopper's gunfire to break the mcguffin and send the Zombies back to their graves.
The goons show up and turn on the villain, deciding they are tired of the zombies. Turns out they weren't too happy to see their ancestors turned into zombies.
He offers his pay to Brother Voodoo, seeing how the money came from Haiti’s treasury in the first place.
Let’s give away this bread.
What an interesting crossover.
The implication of Marc working as a Merc again under the guise of Moon Knight, accepting money, to stop a coup. There's a lot going on there. He doesn't need the money. It's just more to toss onto Steven's pile. And I'm Sure Steven would not be thrilled to have to deal with more laundered and ill-be-gotten cash.
And then there's the whole feel that this is NOT Marc, but Jake. But also Marc. Like a combination of the two. Like Marc felt he needed to help a government that he probably at one point help over throw and put into chaos... But he needed someone to oversee him. To do some hand holding to prevent him from reverting to old tactics, flashbacks, or guilt.
Maybe I'm putting too much into it, but after the issues that preceded this one, maybe Marc isn't ready to settle in yet but also is trying to do some good as a Merc but as Moon Knight.
It was also interesting to hear him talk about his other identities and actually refer to Steven as "the other guy".
And there was also a nice counter to the villain being three roles: Government rich guy, Leader of a coup, and then the religious zealot.
Counter that with Steven, Marc, and Jake in their own roles.
Generally when there are cross over issues, it's an effort to get people interested in the other character enough to go look into their comics and start reading those too. So there really is a general light version of both characters without a lot of weight or back story. They don't want to off put people just tuning in with a lot of lore and things you should know.
So the skirting of the Marc vs. his identity as the merc without guilt issue is avoided here. This issue is for Brother Voodoo.
(And you know what? Those tactics work because I got into Moon Knight because of a Moon Knight cross over issues and went "Who the fuck is this guy?!")
-
BONUS ISSUE! "MURDER BY MOONLIGHT" by Alan Zelenetz.
Oh boy you guys. This is a Khonshu story!
"Under the timeless gaze of the ancient Egytpain god, More than Marc Spector have known the power of Khonshu.... TALES OF KHONSHU"
We open up on a full moon and a city in distress. An officer has been shot killed and the perp is on the loose!
A man named Herb Russell runs through the botanical gardens. The narration paints him as ruthless and a man that won't stand to loose.
Tired of running, he turns to find he's landed at the Brooklyn Museum "where a late evening lecture series is still in progress."
"Hey, if I can cool it a couple of hours in there, then I just leave with the crowd like a respectable citizen - ha!- when it opens in the morning, and no worries."
He sneaks into the museum and into the night lecture being conducted by a famed Egyptologist "Dr. Richard Mark".
He lectures on the benefits of X-rays for examining mummies without having to disturb them or dishonor them.
He explains that he plans to radiograph some more things before the exhibit opens in the morning.
Hmmm... I sense foreshadowing.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Herb Russell is sneaking through the Egyptian exhibit.
"I'll bet this stuff must be worth a lotta dough. I oughta swipe somethin' before I leave."
Ah yes…. The Khonshu statue. ……Wait. How did it get there? It’s supposed to be in the desert waiting for Marc to raise him from the dead. That’s the cloak that Marc streals to make as his own cape. What’s he doing in a museum in Brooklyn?
He's so judgy.
This will end well.
The night guard takes a look around and deems no one there then leaves.
Now, Russell tries to leave the sarcophagus only to find the lid stuck!
' "What is the punishment of the sinner?" Reads the heiroglypic proverb painted along the mummy case... "Evil shall pursue him and the soul which sins shall die." '
Come morning, we seed the Egyptologist prepping for the exhibit and taking radiographs.
Let’s pretend that maybe there are in fact multiple Khonshu statues. There was, after all, a moon cult back in the day when Ra fell out of favor and people decided Khonshu was the way to go. So there may have been more than one statue or temple. So Marc dies at one, takes that statue home. There is another in the museum. Maybe one in London too because London has half of Egypt.
Anyways, Khonshu has always been a judgy dick. Also what a way to go. Spooky, right?
Zombies and scary stories of suffocating in coffins under the judgy gaze of a moon god…. What a way to kick off the spooky season! (this comic came out in July of 1982).
What do you guys think? What about the sudden change in Marc’s behavior in the first part? What about the duplicate statues all over?
#Moon Knight#Moon Knight comics#Analyzing the comics#Marc Spector#Jake Lockley#Steven Grant#Khonshu#Love that 1980s slang#Khonshu has always been a judgy bitch#Brother Voodoo
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Stark Tailoring Inc. [IronStrange]
Summary: After his accident Stephen sold almost everything. But for his new job he needs a suit. So he goes to the place a friend recommended to him: Stark Tailoring.
Relationship: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Tags: IronStrange, Tailor AU, fluff, insecure Stephen Strange, no powers, just the regular flirting of Tony Stark, different first meetings
Ko-fi | Read it on AO3 | Masterlist | Word count: 1.1k | Previous | Next
Chapter 3: Picking up the suit
They had an additional fitting for the shirt they ordered and that day Stephen also brought the first check to Tony.
The second followed two weeks later when he picked everything up. Tony sent him to the dressing room again and told him to change.
The tailor was waiting outside this time. He was bent over his tablet when he heard the rustling of the curtain. He looked up – and Stephen thought that this first glance alone was worth the money he paid for the suit.
Tony beamed at him, obviously pleased with his own work. He stepped closer and adjusted the collar of Stephen's shirt, with what would under other circumstances be an intimate gesture but was probably very common in the day of a tailor. At least that’s what Stephen told himself.
“Look at you all dressed up nicely!” Tony cooed at him, taking a step back.
Stephen immediately missed his warmth, but suppressed the urge to follow him. Instead, he stepped in front of the mirror.
He did look good (besides his face. He still didn’t dare to pick up a razor). The suit fitted perfectly and his butt looked nice when he turned around. Stephen hadn't felt this good since before his accident. With this realization, a part of his former self-confidence came back.
“It’s not bad,” he agreed nonchalantly.
“Not bad?” Tony puffed up. “It’s a masterpiece!” He noticed Stephen's teasing smile and rolled his eyes before mirroring the smile.
“You will be the best dressed person at your event. Unless another of my suits attends. Then it’s a tie.”
He probably wasn’t wrong about that.
Since there weren’t any alterations necessary, Stephen changed back into his clothes and Tony rang him up. Peter wasn't in the shop today to do that. Maybe the boy just worked part-time. Or maybe he was still at school.
Stephen's gaze fell on a flyer of New York fashion week that was only a few weeks away.
Of course, even the doctor, while not into fashion, had heard of the event. Every year the streets were full of fashion enthusiasts, a lot of them in questionable outfits.
“So, fashion week,” he said vaguely, because maybe he wanted to stall a bit without being too obvious about it. He would never admit it, but he strove for Tony’s attention. He grew to like the man and with no further appointments in sight he felt somewhat sad about it.
He banished the voice from his mind that told him he had a hopeless crush.
Tony followed his gaze and shrugged. “Yep.” He popped the p. “I don’t think I’ll go this year. I’ve got a lot of work to do here in the shop and I don’t really feel inspired.”
Besides that, organizing a runway show took months in advance. At least if he wanted a good venue and time slot.
Sure, Pepper took care about those details, but like he said: he wasn't inspired. And he rather attended as a VIP guest or even not at all before he threw together a half-hearted collection.
Tony didn’t rule out that he changed his mind – it wouldn’t be his first time pulling all-nighters on short notice. But he rather focused on just making suits for now.
What most people didn’t know was that fashion designer and tailor were two entirely different fields. It was one thing to have an idea and draw it on paper but another to bring it to life that it was actually wearable.
There was no shame in just designing. On the contrary, a lot of people didn’t realize how hard it was to think of something with the potential to be a hit. A designer had to be innovating, bold and predicting what people would want to wear next year.
A good designer followed the trends.
A great designer came up with the trends. He was a futurist.
Every designer had a team of seamstresses, dressmakers and tailors on his hand who helped to bring the designer’s vision to life. Stark Tailoring Inc in fact had its very own tailor department.
But Tony was also proud to call himself a tailor. He was proud to know how to wield and manipulate fabric to give it a certain look and bend it a certain way. He knew how to mix patterns and textures to create something extraordinary.
It was a form of art. To transform a flat piece of fabric into a three dimensional piece of clothing.
Tony loved it. That was why he still worked at the old tailor shop his father opened back in the late 30s. Or why he made the sample pieces for his runway shows himself.
Now, Tony didn’t tell Strange any of this because – to be honest – the doctor didn’t seem like the kind of person whose interest in fashion went further than the average suit. Which was a shame, really, since he was the most interesting customer Tony had in a long time.
He still wasn’t sure if Strange had the hots for him or was just super embarrassed by Tony’s flirting nature.
“I think those runway shows are overrated anyway,” Stephen said with such disdain in his voice that Tony almost burst out laughing.
“Yeah?” he asked, suddenly very interested in what else the man got to say about it.
“Yes.” Strange nodded. “I don’t understand why the media always reacts overly excited or shocked every time. It’s just clothes and from what I’ve seen so far, a lot of that stuff up there isn’t wearable anyway.”
Those were the most opinionated words Tony had heard from Strange all weeks.
“You know, you’re not wrong there,” he pointed out.
His agreement seemed to surprise Stephen, as if the doctor just remembered where he was. “You probably shouldn’t tell your boss I said this. You know since he’s…”
He trailed off but Tony echoed, “He’s what?” His eyes sparkling with amusement and anticipation. It was impossible to guess what Strange would say next.
Stephen thought for a moment about how best to describe it, before he simply said, “A designer.” As if it would explain everything. “If he even ever comes down here to the shop.”
Everybody knew the tower Stark Fashion owned. It was very central with big letters on the front.
Tony almost gave it away, but bit his tongue last second. He was not sure if he would ever see this strange man again, and he liked to remain just Tony the tailor for him. Also, his honest words were refreshing and Tony preferred them over the butt kissing folks he usually had to deal with.
“I won’t tell him you said that.” Tony winked. There was no need in telling something he already heard.
Stephen smiled somewhat awkwardly and grabbed his garment bag, sensing that it was time to finally go. He nodded a last time to Tony, before he turned to leave.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Tony called after him, because he couldn’t help it. He neither saw the small smile nor the faint blush on Stephen’s face since the doctor was already out of the door.
#ironstrange#Tony Stark / Stephen Strange#Tailor Tony Stark#Tony Stark x Doctor Strange#stephen strange#doctor strange#marvel#mcu#tony stark#space mermaid writing#Tony the tailor#Stark Tailoring Inc
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more details about them are under the cut in case one of them sounds familiar and you want to doublecheck. if you know what the 8th one is please tell me
mr. revere and i: book narrated from the pov of paul revere's horse. she was formerly a british horse but through some amount of shenanigans was given to paul revere instead. she had an entire arc about unlearning her loyalty to england and choosing to side with the americans that was extremely compelling to young me
all-of-a-kind family: jewish sisters on the lower east side in turn of the century new york. i read so many books with that premise but these were my favorites. uhh there were 5 of them, oldest was ella and then i think hattie and then sarah, charlotte, and gertie. it was a series and later there was a little brother who had to get his name changed because he fell down a manhole (long story). they went to the library and coney island and ate soup and did jewish holidays. probably at least 15% responsible for my fixation on nyc. they were everything to me.
the year of the dog: book about an asian-american girl growing up. her name is pacy and she likes to draw. has a lot of conflicted feelings about being american vs. being part of her family's culture which i related a lot to for reasons that i'm sure you can guess
cobble street cousins: 3 cousins growing up on a street?? actually it was two sisters (lily and rosie) and their cousin tess. they had a cool aunt who was dating a botanist. tess was a broadway nerd. they had a cool attic hideaway. the books were excruciatingly cozy i love them
project mulberry: ANOTHER one about asian-american girls feeling conflicted about culture are you noticing a theme here. uhh a girl and her friend who collects state quarters do a science fair project raising silkworms and then trying to embroider something with them. they get help from a guy who has a mulberry tree and is black and her mom has to confront her inner racism. at one point the author talks to the main character in like the footnotes for some reason
the pushcart war: LOVE THIS ONE SO SO MUCH BTW EVERYONE SHOULD READ IT. uhh its new york in Very Slightly The Future. (it was like 1940s when this was written but the date gets changed with every reprint.) everything is the same but traffic is slightly worse. its supposed to read like an account of an actual historical event. pushcart peddlers get fed up with being literally pushed around by truck drivers and get organized. using pea shooters they make the trucks get flat tires so that everyone can see that they're the main problem of traffic. does a surprisingly good job going into all the ways seemingly small political action can have effects (newspaper articles, local government elections, other unions being affected, even trade with other nations). not exactly a union novel but basically a union novel (to this day i still think of a certain part of it whenever someone brings up union dues). basically radicalized kid me if we're being honest.
the fairy rebel: well it was either that or the rebel fairy can't remember. really weird one honestly. okay so a woman named jan hurts her leg and can't dance and also can't have kids and is like clinically depressed about it. weird beginning to a kids book but it gets weirder. a fairy shows up and makes friends with her and in exchange for jan teaching the fairy what jeans are the fairy makes a magic baby for jan. the baby has a streak of magic blue hair. there are also magic rose presents. the fairy queen is evil and has evil wasps and gives the kid an evil necklace and does some really fucked up stuff like nearly crush the kid under toys. it's okay eventually though i think
haunted doll one: okay so i read this at a campground once and it's probably the most genuinely obscure one on here but. a girl finds a doll and like. touches it? or picks it up or something? and somehow the doll transports her back in time to like a wagon chain exploring the west or whatever. and i think the doll is there in prairie times too. can't remember if the modern girl like possesses the original owner of the doll on the wagon chain or if she just gets prairie isekai'd but i think it's like a recurring event. also at some point someone gets bit by a snake and maybe dies. i don't remember how it ends but the general vibes of the thing terrified kid me So Much that it's haunted me ever since. if you remember this book please tell me
#wow look something original!!#polls#just 4 fun :]#and maybe bc a different post made me think about the haunted doll book again
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Yelena babe stop running away from everything. God I love the drama 👌 also out of curiosity who proposed to who?
Six-year-old Ereka is perched on Yelena’s shoulders as they prance around the Whitney Museum Of Art, fleeing from the sweltering New York summer heat. Ereka anchors herself by wrapping her arms around Yelena's head and planting her small hands firmly on the woman’s forehead. When Yelena isn't using her right hand to point at artwork around the room, she instinctively brings it to Ereka's back to add an extra layer of protection. Yelena's other hand holds Kate's. Kate lazily walks next to the spirited duo in silence, an exuberant smile painting her face as she processes their interaction.
The trio transitions from one of the museum’s rooms to the next.
“Painting, photograph, or drawing?”
For the past ten minutes, Yelena has been quizzing Ereka on the type of art they've come across. This time she points to a prismatic, new-age modernist portrait on the wall.
“These are too easy. I’m not five. That’s a painting.”
“What do you like about it then?”
“I think the artist did a good job bringing out the realism of the man’s face and I like how it contrasts with the colors of the background too. It looks nice.”
Kate and Yelena trade glances. No way this kid is real.
One of the ushers in this showroom speed walks over to them.
“Excuse me, ma’am. You can’t have the child on your shoulders. You’re going to have to put her down.”
“Sure. Sorry about that.”
Yelena promptly swings Ereka off her shoulders and gently places the girl on the floor. Ereka looks up at Yelena and protests.
“No, mommy! I liked being there! I got to see the paintings better.”
Kate and Yelena swing their heads in unison to gawk at each other, aghast. Ereka has never called Yelena ‘mom’ before. It has never even been something that has been discussed, yet it just rolled right off her tongue. Like it was nothing. Like she’s been saying it her whole life. They come to a speedy, unspoken consensus not to address it now. Or...ever?
"Sorry, Ri. But it's museum rules. If there's anything you need to look at closely, I can hold you up and then put you back down, okay?"
"No. I liked where I was."
"That's unfortunate because you can't be where you were."
Yelena holds the little girl's hand and scurries off, too afraid that if she allows even a second of lingering, a conversation will need to happen.
Emotional conversations are one of Yelena’s least favorite things. Emotional conversations in public are even higher on her list of disliked things; therefore, if she can avoid both, Yelena will consider this outing a success.
---
Post museum, the triumvirate sits at another prime spot to hide from the heatwave: a pretentious artisanal ice cream shop inside the Chelsea Market.
"...but I think the one I liked the most was Katherine Shimi."
Yelena cracks up with a mouth full of ice cream and spits half of it on the table. Kate shakes her head and wipes the mess down with the napkins she holds to clean Ereka's face continuously.
"Sorry." Yelena turns to Ereka. "Schmidt. Not Shimi, Ri. Schmidt."
"Right. That."
"Say it. Repetition is good for memory. That way, you know next time." Yelena caringly nudges.
"Katherine Schmidt. I really liked her work."
"There you go."
Ereka smiles at Yelena then turns to Kate.
"Can I have another one, mommy? Pwetty pweasssseeeeeeeee. Choccy chips with fudge?"
Ereka calculatingly turns on the baby accent and the puppy dog charm. It is often hard to remember that Ereka is just that, a six-year-old, but it becomes undeniable when she can so quickly flip the switch as she has just done.
"You talked me into a double scoop sundae. You won't eat a third. You're gonna take two bites and I'm gonna have to end up eating the rest. Besides, you already had enough sugar to power ten kids. We don't need more." Ereka is getting ready to pivot toward Yelena and smooth talk her into it, but Kate gets ahead of her. "And don't even try to ask her because the answer will be the same."
"Will it? I'm much more pliable and susceptible to her methods."
Yelena retorts, only half joking. Kate chuckles.
"It will."
"Sorry, kiddo. I tried."
"I can't live in these inhumane conditions. I'm going to emancipate myself one of these days. You'll see."
"Good luck getting a lease at six."
"I'll manage."
"I'm sure you will." Kate leans in and kisses Ereka's forehead. "Finish your ice cream, Lincoln. It's melting because you two talk too much."
"We don't talk too much." Ereka retorts.
"Hardly talk at all." Yelena agrees and they kick off into one of their usual back-and-forth banters.
"Just the right amount."
"Only enough."
"BARELY enough."
"The day I move out, you two are gonna miss me." Kate interrupts.
"She would never." Yelena looks at Ereka and tells her with conviction.
"You would never, mommy."
"Oh, so you're allowed to leave, but I'm not?"
Ereka takes a mouthful of ice cream, nods vigorously, and speaks with her mouth full.
"Yeah. Pretty much."
"You know you should be on my team, right?" Kate asks, playfully irked.
Ereka takes another bite and shrugs.
"My loyalty can't be bought."
"Not bought. Literally birthed you...speaking of..."
Kate looks surreptitiously at Yelena.
"Kate..."
"...You said something earlier..."
"...Don't..."
"...And we'd love to talk to you about it..."
"...No, we wouldn't." Yelena retorts, initially looking directly at Kate, then turning to look at Ereka, more pleading this time. "We wouldn't. It's all good."
"We would. Because it's important."
"It's really not. Casual slip of the tongue. We don't need to make it a big deal."
"You called Yelena 'mom' when we were at the museum."
Yelena grunts under her breath and her head hangs in defeat. It seems like they are having this conversation after all. In public. Fantastic.
"Yeah."
Ereka responds nonchalantly, looking back and forth between the two women.
"Is that...is that something you want to do?" Kate presses further.
"Sure."
"You don't have to. I don't want to force you." Yelena attempts to placate a child that shows zero signs of needing to be coddled.
"You're not forcing me. I don't feel forced. I can do it if you don't mind, but if it makes one of you uncomfortable, I can stop. Miss Johnson says acknowledging people's feelings when addressing them as something is important."
"It doesn't make me uncomfortable." Yelena coyly responds.
"Me neither," Kate adds with a genuine smile.
"Cool...So is that a definite no on another scoop with fudge or..."
Kate chortles, digs into her purse, and hands the kid a loose twenty-dollar bill.
"ONE SCOOP EREKA SHEPHERD. I mean it." Ereka instantly runs off to the stand a few feet away. "If you come back with any more than that, we're eating it."
Yelena looks at Kate blankly for a moment, then...
"Does that mean she's going to call me 'mom' from now on?"
Kate cracks up and leans in.
"I have no idea."
Their lips meet for a quick peck.
"I don’t know either. That conversation had no clear conclusion.”
“But you look weirdly sexy when you're deeply uncomfortable."
Yelena rolls her eyes but steals a kiss regardless.
"You're unbearable."
"Am I?" Yelena nods and Kate kisses her. "You still kissed me back tho."
"Being unbearable doesn't mean you're not REALLY hot. It's a shitty combination. It makes you dangerous."
"Uhm...so..."
Kate and Yelena separate to find Ereka holding a three-scoop banana split.
"Are you kidding me right now?!"
Kate scowls and Ereka flashes her toothy grin, the one missing a single front tooth, back at her disgruntled mother.
"See, the thing is, the guy said this is the best deal they have, so when you think about it, I got the best bang for your buck."
"She's a businesswoman making business moves, Kate."
"Sit your little booty down." Kate grits through her teeth.
"Three scoops, three spoons."
Ereka states with pride as she distributes spoons around the table.
"You're so grounded. No iPad tonight."
"That seems hardly fair. Right, momma?"
Ereka looks at Yelena.
"Nu-uh. You're not about to weaponize that. Nope. Keep me out of it."
Ereka shoves a spoonful into her mouth, staring directly at Yelena.
"Traitor."
"You interested in making it two nights?" Kate threatens.
"There has to be something about this in the constitution. I'm going to check which amendment you're violating when I get my iPad back."
"Yeah, I'm certain the founding fathers were very concerned with your screen time."
Ereka takes a second bite of the barely touched banana split, sits back on her chair, and runs her hands over her distended stomach.
"I'm full, ma."
"Oh...SHOCKER! Who could've ever seen this coming?!" Kate utters, playing up her fake vexation. "Eat up, champ. You supported this 'business move', you help me finish it."
"I'm kinda full to..."
Yelena starts to admit with a guilty grin.
"EAT."
"Yes, boss."
---
After deciding to skip the train and taking the long way home to walk off the insane amounts of cream, sugar, and chocolate they consumed, Ereka arrives home fatigued. Following a quick shower, an early bedtime is a no-brainer.
The little girl lies sideways in bed between Kate and Yelena. Her face is nuzzled into Yelena’s chest while Kate caresses her back.
"What book are you in the mood for tonight?"
Yelena inquires before kissing the top of the little girl's head and starts running her fingers through her still-damp hair.
"No book. Tired. Won't remember."
"Okay. What do you want to do then?"
"Nothing, momma. Just be here with you and mommy."
Kate slides further down the bed, cuddling tighter into her daughter.
"We can do that," Kate replies.
"When do I get my little sister, momma?"
Kate sighs.
"We've had this conversation a million times, Ri."
"I don't like the answer."
"The answer hasn't changed."
"When will it change?"
"The answer to that hasn't changed either."
"I don't like it."
"You've made that clear and your complaints have been taken up directly to management."
"The management here sucks." Ereka quips without missing a beat and Yelena snickers.
"You need to go to sleep." Kate nudges the tiny blonde while kissing the back of her head.
"I need a sister. That's what I need."
"If you go to sleep, maybe you'll wake up with one." Kate attempts to bargain.
"I won't."
"But you could. Anything is possible." Ereka lets out a tiny, peeved grunt. "Unreal. You two are the same person."
"No, we're not." Ereka and Yelena argue simultaneously.
"Right."
"She packs a lot more stubbornness in a way smaller body. You should be concerned. Imagine when she's my size. Trouble."
"Okay. Bye. Shhhhh. Night."
"Are you kicking us out of your room?" Kate stares at her daughter, perplexed.
"It's supposed to be bedtime and you're talking."
"For someone who loooooves to talk about dictators, you sure act like a pint-sized one."
"You can stay if you're quiet."
"You're being very rude right now, Ereka." Kate admonished her. The little girl doesn't respond.
The room falls into perfect stillness for a while until, without warning, Ereka swiftly flips in bed to face Kate. The girl cups her mother’s face with her tiny hands and kisses her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. That was a little mean. I didn't mean to be. I love you and I like you being here for bedtime with me a lot, mommy. You can talk if you want to. It's okay."
Just as hastily as she turns to Kate, Ereka pivots to the opposite side to face Yelena. She also cups Yelena's face with her hands and kisses her cheek.
"I didn't want to be rude. I was upset for a little bit and got frustrated and didn't know how to say it, so I was mean." She quickly throws a glance at Kate over her shoulder. "I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, mommy..." Then turns back to Yelena. "...but bedtime with you is my favorite because you always pick the best books and do the best story times, momma. So I'm happy you're here and if you want to talk with mommy, it's okay. I won't be frustrated. I'm really sorry I was rude about it before."
Yelena surveys Ereka's face and is pummeled by the earnestness and vulnerability staring back at her. She's overcome by the need to wrap her arms around the little girl, so she does. They embrace tightly.
"Apology accepted...Thank you."
"You're welcome, momma."
Ereka feels safe and cozy being held by Yelena. As a direct result, she rapidly starts to fade. Ereka yawns into Yelena’s neck and her eyes close.
"You're so tired, Ri."
Kate whispers behind them while bringing her hand to rub soothing circles on Ereka's back. Ereka nods and slowly lies on the mattress, facing Kate this time. She buries her face into Kate's neck while Yelena sits on the opposite edge of the bed, beholding what she is now certain are the two loves of her life.
Within seconds Ereka is sound asleep. Not long after, Kate and Yelena manage to tiptoe out.
---
Kate and Yelena go through their own bedtime routine without much fanfare. Teeth are brushed, faces are cleansed, and hair is braided. There is nothing special about this night or the t-shirt and shorts combinations they decided to wear, nothing that triggered an unusual reaction in Yelena. But as Kate is slipping into bed, holding whatever random book she pulled from the perennially growing stack on her nightstand, Yelena blurts out words from where she stood, unceremoniously digging through her sock drawer, picking socks for the following day.
“Marry me.”
Yelena turns, still holding green socks with pizza slices on them.
“What?”
"I want you to marry me."
"Uh..."
Kate is nonplussed, not because she's hesitant but perplexed by the entire visual she's looking at. Her girlfriend is in a braid, wearing striped boxers that are so oversized it's a miracle they stay on Yelena's body half the time, a lobster t-shirt from Yelena's old college job at a lobster shack, holding pizza socks that have a hole on the heel but that Yelena refuses to throw away because an old friend gifted them to her, and asking Kate to marry her.
“She called me mom. I don’t ever want to let that kid down again. I already did once and I hate myself every time I remember...I don’t have a ring, which might be better because you’re picky and I’d be able to tell if you hated the one I got. As far as poker faces go, you have the worst one. I’m not going anywhere. Not again. Not unless you want me to. So marry me. I want her to know her calling me that means something.”
“So you’re only asking because of Ri?”
“No...NO...I...” That’s when Kate cracks a smile. “You’re an asshole.”
Kate closes the distance from the bed to their dresser and wraps her arms around Yelena's neck, pinning the shorter woman against the piece of furniture.
“It means more that she’s the reason you’re doing it.”
“She’s not. You are. I mean...she’s part of the reason, but I want to marry YOU. I do get that it’s a package deal. I’ll happily take the combo meal. Supersize it.”
"I love how much you love her. Makes me love you even more."
"I do love her. I wish she was my kid all the time. She deserves a better dad anyway."
"Shhh...let's not talk about him right now."
"You're right. Sorry. Maybe we can give her that little sister she wants...we can start trying right now."
Yelena inverts their positions, pinning Kate against the dresser, then lifting her and setting her on it.
"I don't think you got the birds and bees conversation right, love. We got two queen bees here. We're kinda missing the bird bit."
"Maybe if we try really, REALLY hard. I like hard."
"I know you do...I'm not ready. For a baby. Not yet."
"Okay. We can wait."
"Okay."
"But you are ready to be Kate Belova then?"
Yelena detects the shift in Kate's face.
"What? What did I say?"
"I felt like I lost a piece of myself when I changed my last name to Tom's. I don't think I fully realized it while we were married, but I noticed it when I got my name back. It sounds silly, but I love being Kate Bishop."
"I shouldn’t have assumed. That was arrogant and shitty of me. I’m really sorry."
"Stop...I do want everyone to know I locked down the hottest, sexiest, smartest lawyer in New York. How do you feel about hyphenating?"
"I love a good hyphen."
"Bishop-Belova. The B-B fam. Kind of epic."
"You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you? You know exactly what ring you want and you have pictures somewhere. I just know it."
"No. No. Noooo...A lot. All the time. Been dying to be your wife since about week three. The ring is bookmarked under 'full birth chart breakdown'. It's the one thing I knew you'd never click."
"Woooow. I'm THAT charming. Okay, Mrs. Bishop-Belova."
"Don't let it go to your head. It's big enough as it is."
"It's as big as it needs to be."
They close the distance and kiss. The intensity grows almost instantly. Yelena pulls back unexpectedly.
"You haven't said 'yes'."
"Huh?"
"You never said you'll marry me."
"I think it was more than implied."
"You have to say yes."
Kate sighs and rolls her eyes.
"You're such a pain in my ass. Ask me again. Which...if I remember correctly...you didn't even ask to begin with. You made a statement, so...present it as a question I can actually answer this time."
"And I'm the pain in the ass?"
They exchange smiles.
"Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, will you make me the happiest person alive right this second and marry me?"
"Naaaah, I don't think so. I'm flattered tho." Yelena grunts, miffed. Kate yanks her in for a searing kiss. "Of course, I will. And before you complain, try to lawyer me, or do one of your adorable, non-verbal, cavewoman grunt things at me...yes. That is a resounding, indisputable, nonrefundable yes to being your wife from me."
"Good."
Their lips meet and they get lost in each other's mouths and bodies for longer than they'd like to admit. As clothes start flying off, Kate interrupts with a vital question.
"So when are you buying me this ring again?"
Yelena chuckles into her fiancee's mouth, refusing to let words derail their current situation.
"First thing Monday."
"Right answer."
Seconds later, Kate is under Yelena, her face pressed by the blonde's hands into the duvet, ensuring the brunette's moans are muffled, so their daughter sleeps peacefully through the night.
#my new year's gift#cant say i never gave y'all anything lol#3.2k words#of pure fucking fluff#did even hurt you one bit at the end#AND YOU KNOW HOW HARD THAT IS FOR ME CUZ I ALWAYS SNEAK IT IN#kymau#kymaup#anonymous#answers
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I was tagged by @hell-knows-im-miserable-now for a selfie and for 15 questions for 15 mutuals. thanks for the tag!!!
I’m pretty camera shy so I’m opting to use a silly doodle I made for my desk at work before my upcoming vacation lol, hope that’s alright — I promise it looks like me!
1. Are you named after anyone?
Nope! My parents just liked the name.
2. Do you have any kids?
Nah. I don’t plan on having any, either.
3. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Almost always (sometimes to a fault lol)
4. When was the last time you cried?
Last night, it’s been a bit of an overwhelming and odd week
5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?
This might be a weird answer but usually their walk/gait. Other than that I guess their eyes ?
6. Eye colour?
Green!
7. What sports do you / have you played?
None. I’m quite uncoordinated and was even more so as a kid, so sports were never really my thing.
8. Any special talent?
Not really sure I have any. I enjoy drawing/art but I wouldn’t really call it a “special talent.” Just a hobby I enjoy!
9. Where were you born?
New York, United States
10. Scary movies or happy endings?
Don’t get me wrong, I have a real soft spot for sappy-happy-ending-chick-flicks, but nothing beats a good scary movie!
11. Do you have any pets?
Nope. Came very close to adopting a cat a few years ago but the timing wasn’t right :/
12. How tall are you?
5 foot 7 — but I have terrible posture so sometimes 5 foot 6 lol
13. What are your hobbies?
Doodling, watching movies, listening to music, reading, occasionally sewing and embroidery! Nothin fancy
14. Favourite subject in school?
Definitely did not have one. School sucked. I couldn’t wait to leave and graduation day was like entering heaven lol
15. Dream job?
Boring answer — a job where I get paid to do something simple and I do not have to see or talk to anyone lol. Preferably living off the grid.
Fun answer — I’m terribly shy but there’s a part of me that’s always wanted to act! But more like some kind of weird niche comedic character actor. Being a mainstream Hollywood actor seems like hell.
anyways that’s it! thanks again for the tag!
tagged: (if you want, there’s no pressure to do this!) @boobveins @honeydrippingbeehives @private-pyle @jenniferlovesthebeatles @weirderthanaplatypus @thechillseekr @sstrange-cloudss @toothpuulp @bitter1stuff @pinkwindexx @strwbrrrygf @dukeof-url @bbgirlspit @kittyvampire @bongrip3000
If you’re not tagged and come across this please feel free to join in and say I tagged ya! take it easy everyone! :)
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15 Questions, 11 Mutuals ^-^
Thank you to @frenchywrites and @gay4utica for tagging me! ^-^
Nudging other moots: @sm-writes-chaos @talitha52 @lavender-laney @aurevives @broodparasitism @enne-uni @hallwriteblr (i double checked to make sure it was okay, unsure about the rest of my moots. lmk if you want to be tagged in this and/or in other tag games :3 )
Rules and answers below the cut.
Rules: Answer each question as yourself or as your OC!
-- I'm going to be answering as both myself, and my OC Isaac, my beloved. (Specifically 90s AU Isaac, not Dishonored fan OC Isaac.)
1. Are you named after anyone?
Me: Nope. Jamie is my chosen name and I just liked how it sounded!
Isaac: Not that I know of. My dad named me. It probably meant something to him then.
2. When was the last time you cried?
Me: I can't remember the last time. But I'm replaying Omori, so likely soon.
Isaac: Last phone call with Quinn. I don't want to talk about it.
3. Do you have kids?
Me: No. I don't plan on it.
Isaac: No. I'd suck as a parent.
4. Do you use sarcasm?
Me: Online, not often. IRL, yeah. I'm trying to tone it down.
Isaac: No shit.
5. What's the first thing you notice about people?
Me: Their hands. I like me some good hands!
Isaac: Their eyes, usually. Whatever stands out. But usually eyes.
6. What's your eye color?
Me: Brown!
Isaac: Lighter Brown.
7. Scary movies or happy endings?
Me: It depends! Scary movies is my instinctual answer, since happy endings usually make me feel weird. Like gross weird, if it's too sappy.
Isaac: Happy endings so I can vicariously live through it.
8. Any special talents?
Me: I used to draw a lot! I wanted to be an illustrator for many years, but I've been extremely creatively burnt out overall and lost my passion for it. I do doodles here and there when I feel inspired, particularly by video games, but I no longer feel the desire to share it, pursue visual art as a profession, or for fame/recognition. I have a lot of thoughts about it, but I don't like talking about it often because it upsets me sometimes if I'm caught in a bad thought cycle. LOL.
Isaac: I ran track in high school. But there's nothing special about me. Quinn says I'm really good at chess though, but I don't even know all the rules. I think he's just so bad that it makes me look good. heh.
9. Where were you born?
Me: NYC.
Isaac: Syracuse, New York State.
10. What are your hobbies?
Me: Writing, listening to new music, and playing video games. Also programming if I have the mental bandwidth for it.
Isaac: Playing bass guitar, riding my bike, people watching, video games, watch MTV. I don't go out much.
11. Do you have any pets?
Me: I have a dog and a cat!
Isaac: I wish I did. I'd want a cool one though. Like a skunk or a spider.
12. What sports do you play/have played?
Me: I did martial arts (karate and tae kwon do) for most of my youth, but discontinued it after moving around too often.
Isaac: I ran track in school. Maybe riding my bike is a sport? I tried skateboarding too but I think I'm too finnicky. My bike has more control.
13. How tall are you?
Me: No comment... v-v
Isaac: 5'8". I dunno what that is everywhere else.
14. Favorite subject in school?
Me: Math and Science.
Isaac: Chemistry. And Home Economics, surprisingly. And ironically. Please don't look at my room.
15. Dream job?
Me: Realistically, a software developer. Ideally, a painter/illustrator/game designer. Again, creative burnout. Brain no work. Brain broken, and I can't fix it... Writing is an exception though! I find writing to be extremely cathartic.
Isaac: Maybe a chef. Or musician, once I get good enough at bass. I don't want to think about it.
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