#'Being good dad.' I would have taken ANY of those. But I gave up and went with an oldie. You can't beat the classics man

[fountainpenguin]

"I'm trying to keep up as best I can! I wanna be there if you need a hand... I'm looking, looking- Looking for you!" (x)

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New Criminal Experience chapter today!

Chapter 5 - “Tracked”

❤️ Read on AO3

💙 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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Mumbo and Skizz split up to find the lost allay eggs, llama respawn blankets, and Impulse. Mumbo takes a good look around Evernight: city of ever-changing blocks.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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One teleport later…

Operation Llama Blanket and Allay Egg Recovery requires stealth, precision, and snap-second judgments on how many of the enderspawn hybrids can be trusted not to turn them in. In a whirlwind of shadow blots, Skizz poofs them in behind a row of composters tucked down an alley of colorful, mismatched blocks. Skizz is in a crouch; Mumbo drops to mirror him. Endermen and endermites shuffle around not far away. Every breath betrays him as a wanted man.

And any one of these chaps could heel-turn out me.

The paths out of the city glow faintly on his mental map, as they always do. Leaving sounds lovely, but not when Double-U and Buzz are missing their spawn blankets. It's not just about his girls, either. The allay eggs are his responsibility.

The last two allay eggs in the world.

So where are they? It's not about the money. It's never been about that, regardless of what his species and experience in smuggling and trading may lead you to believe. He took this job because Doc asked him to. Said he was researching; he'd give the newbies a start on Education and send them to the building when his work was done. Not unusual, and Mumbo trusts Doc more than most.

Does he know? It's the question coursing like a river through his hands, up his shaking arms, and down his back in tiny flash floods. But he can't ask - not here, not now - because Doc still lives so far away. He'll crash when he gets to Tintopia. He is going to reach Tintopia, with his llamas' spawn blankets in hand.

Okay. We can do this. Just breathe.

Mumbo shifts his eyes to Skizz, then remembers why you don't look at endermen directly and drops his gaze. "I'll have a nip around. Thanks for the drop-off. It means the world to me, mate."

The blue eyes peering back at him (carefully, off-center) don't look at all like the eyes of a man who meant to do the Allay Dragon harm. Perhaps it's foolish and maybe he's being played, but Mumbo can't help but believe it. "Without me or Impulse, you've got no escort. I'll see if I can follow from a distance, maybe along the rooftops, but if someone sees me-"

"I know. Skizz, I know what I'm getting into- It's not my first brush with the anarchy lifestyle. If someone attacks me, you don't have to get involved. There's difficult people after you." Neutral. Non-specific. Skizz shifts, tugging his jumper sleeve. Mumbo can read that stinging, shameful silence and almost wishes that he can't. He says, "I won't rat you out, but I'd rather not see you fight." BigB's got his arrows and clones. Vee's an evoker; she's got her vex. They're both spellcasters armed with magic. And Skizz is layered with unknown mods. Both sides of this fight could easily get hurt.

"I… Yeah, sorry. Yeah."

Mumbo reaches a hand through his robes. He grips the handle of his modded scythe - still sitting there in his soul slot, as it always is - and withdraws it in a crackle of blue sparks. Skizz's wings flare out behind his torso, flapping once. They scrape the composters and the back alley wall. Not much of a wall with several blocks plucked out of it, leaving holes, but that's not the point. Mumbo keeps his eye contact locked on the scythe. He doesn't give any sort of demo swipe, though that's quite tempting, actually. Skizz is halfway to flying off as it is. Can he fly with those angel wings?

"I'm all right," he tells Skizz. "I'm Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo; I can handle myself a bit."

"Ah- That's… Uh, you've got a modded weapon?"

"I transported a bit of slime and some otter spawn eggs to a vulture once." That's non-specific enough, yes. Skizz keeps his eyes away, but for the briefest moment, they flicker over. Mumbo can feel them graze his forehead.

"Are you kidding me right now, homie? Otter spawn eggs are real? I thought those were just a myth!"

"Well, you and most of Between, yes."

"So you've found the Invisible Hub?"

At that, Mumbo chuckles and tucks the scythe away again. Bad move, wandering with that on full display. "I said I traded him slime, mate. I never said I've found wherever slimes spawn." Scythe gone, he lays a hand against a composter lid, ready to swing himself to the other side of the little wall. "You find Impulse. He and Coldsnap can't still be going at it." And if they're lucky, Impulse is still alive. There wasn't a death message on the comm. He must be all right, unless Mumbo made a total spoon move and forgot to toggle the settings on. They pause in sync, fingers curling, hearts beating. IS Impulse okay?

Surely he must be. Skizz asks the same question, then, but not about Impulse. "Will you be okay?"

"I haven't got a choice." But he does have a plan.

Step 1: Get the spawn blankets. It might sound harsh, but those rank above the allay eggs as far as he's concerned. Until a new account syncs to an egg, they're effectively unfertilized; they might even get broken in a scuffle tonight and he won't feel any shame. There will be other jobs with other spawn eggs. But there won't be another Buzz and Double-U, sitting sweetly in their shed as he cleans between their toes.

I can do this. Gah, if only I wasn't down to my last invisibility potion. Since he had Impulse watching his back, he didn't stock up. Gets expensive in modern times with modern shortages, y'know? Takes up space.

And at the moment, that's as far as the plan goes. He'll leave the safety of the composter wall. Find the blankets- someone must have picked them up. Take them back somehow. Barter. He's got a few things on hand that might draw the eye. He'll surrender the scythe if he absolutely must. It's quite simple, really. 'Simple' is key if you don't want analysis to morph into paralysis and chain you to the ground. Mumbo crouches to go for the leap and swing.

"Mumbles? Do you have another skin to change into?" When Mumbo turns his head, blinking and wondering how filthy he must be for a question like that, Skizz gestures at his travel robes. "You, uh… might blend in better if you're not wearing bright blue and yellow. If someone took your llama blankets, they'll probably be watching for you."

"I might want them to, if it makes it easier to find and return them to me."

Skizz hesitates, the noise skating across his teeth. That betrays the answer even before his words: "Evernight's anarchy, man. And you know how endermen are about taking stuff just because it's there."

Mumbo shrugs. "I don't have a choice. They're my llamas, dude. And if I can save the allays too, all the better."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[dollfacefantasy]

Can't Help It

pairing: dbf!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your dad's coworker needs a housesitter, but the house isn't the only thing you'll be sitting on (haha pls laugh)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, oral (m receiving), age gap (i imagine early 20s/late 30s), both reader and leon are kinda pervy but not in a skeevy way <3

word count: 5.3k

a/n: hi hi i am back! this was such a pain to write for no reason, but as always, i hope people enjoy. i'm not sure what trope this really falls under, it's probably more accurate to say dcw (dad's coworker), but we'll go with dbf for convenience. i might make a part 2 of this idk. also, i know the header images are really giving graphic design is my passion but... it is what is lol. as before, thank you for all the support on my last fics. if you reblogged or commented, i'm giving you a smooch rn. and just wanna say that i do take requests. if anyone is interested, don't be shy ;) any who, feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

When your dad’s new coworker asked if you’d be interested in housesitting for some easy money, you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Agent Kennedy, like your father, traveled for work a lot. Often gone for weeks at a time, he needed someone to watch the place and take care of menial tasks like getting the mail and watering the plants. It paid well and all you had to do was basically live in his house.

You had met him several times in passing before he offered you this job, and he was always nice to you. He would say hi when you’d come down for a snack while he talked to your dad in the living room. He’d ask how college was and about the different classes you were taking. One time he even told you about some old band he liked that he thought you would too. And that was all great.

But what was even better was that he was fine as fuck.

You had a fat crush on him from the moment you were introduced. The way his eyes pierced right through you but in the softest way. How his lips curled into a knowing smile while his hand gripped yours in a firm shake. The way he said “pretty name for a pretty girl” when you told him your name. From any other middle-aged man, that would have been so corny and had you internally shriveling up. But from him… you had to fight the urge to get on your knees then and there.

He’d approached you about watching his house, saying something about how there had been some nearby break-ins in empty houses and it would be a good way for you to get some spending money and blah blah blah. You were on board as soon as the opportunity to have more of him in your life presented itself.

Unfortunately, it was the nature of housesitting that you rarely saw your employer. You would see him when you showed up and when he came home and that was it. But those moments were enough to sustain your delusion.

The first time you came over, you walked into the house, glancing around the den of the man who enraptured you. It was pretty basic, but you figured that not being home a lot would be the reason for that. When you were done trying to psychoanalyze him from looking around his house, he gave you your own set of keys with a wink that had you blushing an embarrassing amount.

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you said softly.

“Call me Leon, Sweetheart,” he replied.

You had to look away to conceal your giddy smile. You didn’t think he noticed the effect he had on you. Or if he did, he didn’t care about your pitiful infatuation. But other times, you could have sworn he did this kind of thing on purpose.

Your first stint in the house went smoothly. You made sure to do everything he asked and even cleaned up the place a little bit. When he returned from wherever his work had taken him that time, he seemed impressed to your delight. He looked around, making small talk with you before writing your check.

“You get up to anything crazy while I was gone?” he said, smirking as he scribbled his signature on the small rectangle.

“Yeah, I was real wild - I brought out your vacuum for probably the first time.”

He laughed, handed you the check, and teasingly purred “good girl.” 

Now, he may have been joking, but your panties nearly soaked through with arousal regardless. You yet again hid your revealing expression as you said a timid goodbye and headed out to your car. You were shifting your thighs together the whole ride home, fantasizing about being a good girl for Agent Kennedy so he would relieve that ache between your legs that clouded your thoughts.

Honestly, all of this made you feel pretty pathetic. Lusting after your father’s coworker, now technically your boss, who was a good fifteen years older than you. Blushing and squirming every time he said something more than ‘hi.’ Weren’t you better than this? But then you’d see those thick biceps and mysterious eyes, and the answer in your mind would be a resounding no.

Because honestly, you weren’t better than this, you were so much worse. After the good girl incident, you decided that if he didn’t want you yet, he would. You would make sure of it. From then on, every time you were housesitting, you wore your most revealing outfits, did your hair all pretty, and even tried special perfume so you’d smell extra nice.

But none of it seemed to work. He kept up his regular teasing and charm, but to your dismay, he hadn’t railed you on that sad leather couch in the living room. You tried to convince yourself that his gazes lingered longer and that his touches were more strategic, but that felt like reach even for you. 

It was so frustrating. What more could you do? You touched his arm while he spoke. You laughed harder at his corny jokes. You even hugged him once or twice when you could justify it. You tried to drop hints every way you could without literally just trying to seduce him, and he did not seem to care. You nearly gave up. You decided that maybe you should just cut your losses and spare yourself the humiliation. Leave yourself with some dignity and resign to just being his housesitter.

You would have done this if not for the fact that he lets you sleep in his bed while he’s gone.

His house was meant for one person. It didn’t have a guest room. He told you on your first gig that you were obviously allowed to sleep in his bed since the alternative was the aforementioned sad leather couch in the living room. He told you to bring whatever you needed to be comfortable - sheets, blankets, pillows - since you’d be there for weeks at a time.

At first, it was too weird. It made you feel dirty, sleeping in his bed while harboring your secret carnal desires. But goddamn, that couch in the living room was uncomfortable. You stuck it out for the first time, but the second time you housesat, you relented and dragged your belongings back to the room you’d forbidden yourself from knowing. 

His bedroom, like the rest of the house, is pretty blank, but there’s a little more personality here. It made you feel like such a stalker, but you couldn’t help making observations, right? You got to see the type of cologne he wore, the few dusty books he kept next to his bed, what kind of stuff he crammed in the nightstand drawers. It sounded creepy, but you just had curiosity, right?

You set yourself up in his queen size bed, draping the plush blanket you brought with you across the mattress. The bed was comfy enough, but the absolute best part, the part that kept your fantasies alive and well, was the way the sheets smelled like him.

You nearly moaned when you took a deep breath, filling your nose with that familiar scent. It gave you such a rush pushing your face into those smooth gray linens. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t help shamefully slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to play with your swollen clit. You clutch the sheets in your fists as you writhe on the bed, whining as you fantasize about your special agent.

Leon had gone years leaving his house desolate without an issue. All that nonsense about potential burglaries and spending money for you had been total bullshit. It’s not like there was anything of value in his house anyway. Those excuses served only as a way to get more of you in his life. He thought housesitting was a happy middleground, a tether to you without being obvious about his motivations.

Ever since he saw you for the first time, heading out your front door, offering a timid ‘nice to meet you,’ he had been hooked. You bewitched him with your sweet temperament, that soft laugh when he told you bad jokes, those gorgeous eyes projecting all the emotions in that pretty head of yours. God, you were so fucking cute.

You made him feel like a dirty old man, sick and perverted for coveting his colleague’s daughter. The embarrassment he felt within himself when he’d notice he was staring at your tits or imagining how your soft lips would look wrapped around his cock was immeasurable. Even though the guilt boiled inside him, he couldn’t stop himself. He craved you. He started finding more opportunities to visit your house, hoping he could steal a few moments of your time. That’s when he knew enough was enough.

Having you as his house sitter worked perfectly. He could have his moments with you without feeling too disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to tease every so often, he kept it friendly. He noticed that you, on the other hand, seemed to be doing everything to change that.

He wasn’t a fool. He could see the changes in your appearance. Those skimpy outfits you’d flaunt yourself in drove him crazy. The way you’d playfully roll your eyes and brush his arm had his cock twitching in his pants. It was becoming all the more tempting to spread you out on the dining table and take what he wanted. But he still wrestled with that part of himself that said to not take it too far. That you deserved better.

That was until you started sleeping in his bed.

He had come home after your second gig, given you your check, and sent you on your way quickly because he was exhausted from his mission. He went straight to his room and collapsed on the bed. He could tell the sheets had been freshly washed by the soft feel, but also because you were always going above and beyond to please him. Despite the recent cleaning, he swore to himself he could smell some of your perfume on them.

He looked like a madman, smelling his bed sheets for the faintest hit of that scent. He groaned, picturing you lying here, your beautiful body sprawled out on his bed. He inhaled deeper while conjuring images of your unkempt hair and sleepy eyes. It wasn’t long until his dick sprung to life as he saw images of you with one of his pillows between your legs, whimpering as you drag your dripping cunt back and forth along the fabric. He couldn’t help the need to desperately pump his cock to sinful visions of his precious girl.

This morning it’s about six when Leon unlocks the front door and quietly walks inside. He completed his mission hours before. He was tired, but it had been short, only about a week, and relatively easy. He told you he would be home in the evening, but he’d finished earlier than expected.

He trudges through the house and down the hall to his bedroom, collapsing in bed at the forefront of his mind. It’s not until he reaches the door and hears your deep breathing that it occurs to him that his bed is currently occupied. He gently pushes the door open and walks in, planning on rousing you so you could get your money and be on your way. When he sees you though, that plan vanishes from his mind.

The sight of you nearly melts him into a puddle. He pads closer to the bed, careful not to disturb you. Your shiny hair is draped across the pillow as you lie on your stomach with one leg hiked up. Your arms rest close to your face, their raised position causing your t-shirt to ride up and allowing him to see your waist. The blanket was tangled between your legs, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the junction of your thighs covered only by those thin panties you wore.

Despite your beauty, he controls himself. He pulls the blanket over your lower body and sits beside you to contemplate his next move. He came up with a few different things he could do, but all he wanted right now was to watch you sleep. He felt like such a creep, but you looked heavenly in this state. His ears strained to hear those delicate exhales coming from your parted lips.

He could just go sleep on the couch until you woke up. He could just wake you up and offer to let you stay until you had your bearings. Or he could just let himself enjoy this a little more.

He wanted to wake you though. He wasn’t fully sure of what he was doing, but if there was any part of you that had reservations he wanted to know. It would rip his heart to shreds if he frightened you somehow. He begins rubbing your back in long soothing strokes. He makes small circles with his fingers every so often. You stir a little, but don’t wake.

He continues his ministrations, smiling at your sleeping form. He uses his other hand to brush your hair from your face. He strokes the locks away from your closed eyes before leaning closer to you. He can smell that familiar scent that had driven him to humping the sheets for the last few months.

“Hey Angel, need you to wake up for me,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath fanning across the side of your head.

It slowly registers inside your unconscious mind that you aren’t dreaming. Actual fingers are coasting along your back. An actual voice is coaxing you back to reality.

A low hum emits from your throat as you shift to face the source of your disturbance. Your eyes open, still heavy from sleep, and Leon enters your field of vision. For a second, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.

“There she is,” he whispers, giving you that charming smile. He runs his fingers along your jaw and tilts your chin to turn your face completely in his direction.

You feel your brain malfunctioning as he floods your senses. The morning light coming through the window illuminating him as he looks down at you. The deep timbre of his voice speaking to you. His rough fingertips dragging across the smooth expanse of your cheek.

Soon as your eyes come into focus and your mind clears the fog of sleep a little, you grasp enough of the situation to feel a jolt of panic. It felt like you woke up late for school. You shoot up in bed and look at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Oh my God, Leon, I’m so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just-” you ramble. You go to fling the blanket off of you, but remember you didn’t wear shorts to bed. You have to sit there, looking at him as you feel heat creeping to your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he cuts you off with a quiet chuckle, gently catching your arm when you sit up, “I finished a little early. You don’t need to rush out the door. I figured you’d still be asleep.”

The look in his eyes soothes you. He has that rugged, worn out look that he gets when he comes back from missions. Your heart rate falls back down to normal levels, but your eyes still cast downwards, a little embarrassed he’d caught you unprepared. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and you shift a little to try and hide the fact that your nipples are hardening beneath the flimsy fabric of your shirt.

“Thank you. I’ll be up in a few though. I know you’re probably tired,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.

He moves so that he’s further on the bed with you. He lays back on the pillows and looks up at you, rubbing your back how he was before you woke up. 

“Mmmm, I am, but you still don’t need to rush. I’m not gonna complain about a sweet thing like you warming my bed,” he says, that teasing smile spreading across his face and his fingers starting to trace patterns exclusively on the small of your back.

Your eyes flit away as your own smile grows on your face. How were you supposed to be normal about this? You look down at your hands in your lap and mutter a thank you.

“Honey, you really don’t need to be so shy all of the sudden,” he says softly, but there’s a smug lilt to his voice as well. You bite your lip as his hand begins fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

He can’t help the smirk and predator-like glint in his eyes that form at your reaction. This was it. That little smile and refusal to meet his eyes was all he could stand. He was closing in now. The flirtation between you two had gone on long enough. He wanted this, and if you wanted it too, his mind couldn’t find a reason to deny the two of you any longer.

“Sweetheart, if you have something to tell me, you can come out and say it. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he says as he reaches up to pull your hair behind your shoulder and out of your face, “And, lately I’m starting to think that’s what you want.”

You look over to him now, your eyes staring into his. Your limbs feel weak, disbelief coursing through your veins. Your thoughts stampede through your mind, but you eventually force the words from your throat.

“I think I want that too,” you breathe. Your heart seizes at his brows playfully rising. You lay down on the bed, resting on your side so that you and Leon are face to face. Your pulse thunders in your ears while you try to conceal how shaky your breathing is.

He scooches over to you, pushing you on to your back and propping himself on his elbow so he’s positioned above you. He leans down and presses two faint kisses to your cheeks. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes and strokes your cheek again with the same soft and slow movements.

“Think, babydoll? I think you know what you want,” he whispers, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, “I think you’ve known for a while. Wearing all those cute little outfits, prancing through my house and brushing against me like a kitten. You were just begging for my attention.”

You squirm slightly under the spotlight of his affection. Somehow, you maintain eye contact even though every cell in you feels the urge to look away. Part of your mind wonders if he’s still teasing. If he’s about to pull away and leave you wanting.

Before you could overthink anymore, his head lowers to the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath of you as he moves himself further on top. 

“Now, you’ve got it, but all you had to do, sweet thing, was ask,” he says as his mouth ghosts over your neck, “That’s all you have to do right now. Just want to hear that you want me as bad as I want you.”

“Yes,” you whimper without a second thought, “Please touch me.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hums as he begins kissing your neck. The kisses are soft. They’re barely there, but they’re overwhelming to you. You can’t help the pathetic sound that leaves your lips as you tilt your head back. The hand that had been touching your face trails down to your waist and begins caressing your side under your shirt.

His tongue gently laps against the skin of your neck between kisses. Your whole body is starting to heat up while simultaneously getting chills. Every inch of you aches for his touch. Your thighs subconsciously spread as your breathing becomes heavier.

Leon lets out a small laugh at your display. “You must really want this Baby. Just a few kisses and rubs and you’re already mine,” he murmurs as his lips move up your neck and down your jaw. He kisses your lips next, giving your bottom lip a little nip.

Another needy sound escapes your mouth. You return the kiss and flick your tongue against his lips. “I do, wanted this since I met you,” you moan, your body writhing for more.

“Naughty girl,” he teases against your lips, “That’s okay though, Angel. I’m the same way. Wanted a handful of these pretty tits since I saw you.” His hand moves up and kneads your breast. His fingers massage the flesh before centering and pinching your nipple. 

You whine and arch into his touch. Your eyes flutter as your face contorts with desire. He slides over you, straddling your waist. He stares down at you and takes in what was finally in his grasp. He coos for you to sit up a little while he pulls your shirt off of you. You comply and then flop back against the pillows. Now exposed from the waist up, his eyes feel even more intense. He’s locked on to the view of your tits.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he mutters, “Even better than I imagined.” His hands cup the sides of your breasts, groping them a bit. You can now see his cock beginning to strain against his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight, but it’s gone when he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth.

His tongue circles the peak before lapping against it, drawing more whines from you. Your body arches into his touch while his hands never let up their fondling. You take your lip between your teeth again. He moves to give the other nipple the same treatment, leaving the other one cold as the air touches the saliva-coated skin.

He plays with your breasts for a while more before drifting down your abdomen, lavishing your stomach with kisses. He squeezes your waist as he playfully tugs the hem of your panties with his teeth. He looks up at you deviously. “Your nipples were so hard, I bet your pussy’s fucking soaked for me.”

All you can do is nod, any verbal response tangled up in your esophagus. He leans back on his knees and swiftly pulls the garment off. His pupils seem blown out as he gets a look at your cunt. He pushes your thighs to your stomach, spreading you out for his gaze. You felt so exposed, at his mercy as he held you there and just looked at you. Your arms reach down and pull at the hem of his shirt.

“Wanna see you too,” you whimper with pleading eyes.

“Yeah?” he says with a soft smile. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. It takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. “Been fantasizing about me, have you?”

Your eyes rake along his chiseled abdomen, drinking in every line and shadow of his muscular frame. You reach out and pull him back on top of you. His grin grows, and he indulges you. You connect your mouths again, this time sliding your tongue inside his. He groans at your sudden eagerness. He runs his hand through your hair while you feel up his back, exploring the definition there.

You give him a little push, signaling that you want to roll over. His body flips over and takes you with him so that you’re positioned how you wanted. You make out for a minute more until you pull back, looking at him with your lustful eyes and swollen lips.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you say simply, sliding down his body so that you’re lying between his legs. You nuzzle against the bulge in his pants before unzipping them and tugging them down.

His eyes follow your every movement. He pets your head as you rub your face against the outline of his dick. He tilts his head back and lets out a sigh. 

“That’s a good girl, just gotta give you some love and then you loosen up, don’t you?” he coos.

“Mhm,” you hum. You kiss his solid length over the cloth of his boxers. Then, finally, what you had been waiting for since meeting Leon. You loop your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, unveiling his beautiful cock.

You wrap your fingers around it, just an exploratory touch. You feel the veins in your hold and the heat radiating from his shaft. You slowly bring your head to the tip to give him some tiny licks. Your eyes dart to his face, looking for approval.

Leon’s chest ached from the way you were looking at him like he was a god. When your tongue sticks out and your eyes return his stare, he nods at you and keeps stroking your hair. Your lips soon wrap around the tip, and you bob your head a little. He groans and his hips twitch.

“That’s a good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he moans as your head slides further down his member. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling a little.

The praise only makes you more enthusiastic. You move up and down with more speed, making lewd slurping noises as you work. His hand on your head and his sounds of pleasure has heat collecting in your belly, leaking out of your dripping pussy.

His head rests against the head board as he watches you with half-open eyes. His eyes squeeze shut and his body tenses as you push your head all the way down, taking him into your throat. Spit trickles from your mouth and drips on to his pelvis.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpers, tugging on your hair a little. You taste his pre cum leaking on your tongue. A gagging noise comes from you and his hips twitch harder. He barely restrains himself from bucking up and lodging himself deeper in your throat. You moan around his cock, driving him even crazier. He feels the rush of an orgasm approaching and tugs your hair with more firmness, guiding your head up and off his lap. You whine softly as you lose the taste of him.

“Sorry, pretty girl, don’t wanna cum just yet,” he says.

You crawl back up his body, so you’re in his arms again. You kiss his cheeks and the corners of his mouth as he rolls the two of you over so he’s on top again. He connects your lips in a deep kiss, tasting himself on you as he drags the tip of his cock through your slippery folds.

He doesn’t tease for long though. Soon enough, he’s pushing himself into your tight cunt. You both let out a symphony of sinful noises. Leon watches as your face contorts with pleasure as he stretches you out. You both felt a budding sense of satisfaction after finally receiving what you craved for the last several months.

He bottoms out inside of you. His head falls forward against your neck. He pants as he holds himself together and lets you adjust, keeping an iron grip on your hips. Your fluttering around him as you accommodate his girth. Your nails lightly dig into his back while you cling to him.

He begins thrusting with slow and deep strokes. You moan out his name a few times with a variety of expletives. He keeps his face buried in your neck, grunting as he feels the velvety sensation of your walls around his length. His motions become more fluid as he finds a rhythm with you.

“That’s right Angel, better than your dreams?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper, “So much better. Think your cock was made for me.”

“That so, Baby? I’m made to fill up a precious girl like you? Keep you happy and full of cum,” he growls into your neck, his thrusts gaining intensity.

You nod thoughtlessly as he continues battering your insides, gliding over your sweet spot repeatedly.Your arms wrap tighter around him as you feel yourself getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your noises become more strained as Leon lays sloppy kisses on the side of your head.

He hooks his arms underneath your knees and brings your thighs up to your abdomen again. His arm loops around and thumbs your clit as he slams himself in and out. Your back arches and you squirm from the rush of white hot pleasure. You’re right there, not able to hold on for much longer.

“I’m gonna have you so full of my cum today, it’s gonna be dripping out of you still the next time you’re here,” he grunts into your ear, “Make sure your pussy remembers me till I can fill her again.”

His vulgar words rip a high pitched moan from your throat and cause your eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Go ahead, sweet girl. Squeeze me nice and tight,” he moans, his own voice getting strained.

You do as he says. The orgasm overtakes you. You release a strangled cry as your body rhythmically rolls into the feeling. Your pussy clamps around Leon tight, sucking him deep and keeping the attention on that blissful spot. The thrill of satisfaction rushing through your mind only works you further. Your eyes flutter and your lips part as you completely let go.

As he watches you cum, he notes that it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight of your gorgeous body writhing and trembling because of him. The primal sounds of your moans and cries. It’s too much for him. He growls and grunts into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He snaps even harder into you and floods you with his sticky, hot cum.

You both ride the waves of euphoria together until you both start coming down. He basically collapses on you as he catches his breath and you wipe the sweat from your brow. After a minute, he pushes himself off of you and flat on to the bed next to you. He gazes at the ceiling as his chest continues to rise and fall with the need for more oxygen.

You sit up slowly, realizing he probably wants you gone now. Like he said, you feel his cum leaking out of you as you move to grab your panties from the corner of his bed. This is how you expected it to be, but it still hurt a little. Nothing you couldn’t handle though. Your pulling them back on when your snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s arm around your waist, dragging you to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks teasingly, spooning you and softly kissing beneath your ear, “You got what you wanted and now you’re running out?”

“Oh, uhhh… I thought you’d want me to leave,” you say quietly.

He guides your face so you’re looking at him. His eyes are still soft but more serious. “You think I would just fuck you and then throw you out on your ass? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for months, but you don’t know me as well as you think,” he says and kisses your nose, “You don’t have anywhere to be today, yeah? You thought you’d be here till later anyway.”

You nod in agreement, your eyes casting down with some embarrassment over your assumption.

“Hey, don’t get all shy on me now. There’s no reason for it,” he teases, “We have all day for me to show you how I want to take care of you. Just give me a moment, I’m not as young as I use to be.”

[wanderingsoul6261]

Match has been Made

credit for gif goes to k-wame

james beaufort x reader

synopsis: Lydia plays matchmaker for James and her friend

Note: I have Jury Duty next week, so I want to try and get everything done before then, but if not, I will try to have most finished so that I can post them periodically through next week so that I can still provide y'all with content. I also want to start writing for other fandoms, such as Call of Duty, NCIS, Criminal Minds, Uncharted, etc) so if you are interested in more works, keep an eye out for those.

Not a big fan of this one honestly. Might delete it later and do a better version of it. Just didn't have any other ideas for it, so if anyone has a better way for this to have gone, let me know, and I will definitely consider redoing it after some of the others are completed.

Lydia wasn't as stupid as James and Y/N. Maybe stupid wasn't the right word, as oblivious seemed fitting, not that the two were stupid. Although, they were definitely oblivious. Lydia had wanted to strangle them both, considering how blind they were. James, staring all the time at Y/N, not thinking anyone would notice. Lydia definitely noticed. And then Y/N, not even noticing James looking at her and how long he would do so. Lydia also noticed that too. 

Many who also noticed had just thought that maybe Y/N wasn’t interested in him, but Lydia had taken to disagreeing. Y/N was a good friend of Lydia, and therefore, she was also a good friend of James. Y/N and James had initially butted heads quite often at the start of the friendship between the two girls, but over time, it had gradually stopped, and had actually turned into a playful teasing. 

Now, Lydia could tell James was smitten with Y/N just as much as she was smitten with him, and this had sparked Lydia’s plan into getting the two by themselves and admitting their feelings. 

Initially, it also meant getting their driver, Percy involved. He would have a large part to play in the plan, helping her get one or both of them to the Manor, hopefully when their parents were away on their upcoming business trip, and then leaving with Lydia. Percy and Lydia would then find something to pass a few hours by. Whether she went over to a friend’s house, or she treated Percy to a friendly night out for all his work done for the family. 

Percy was inclined to help, considering he too had noticed what was, or the lack of what was happening between James and Y/N. It didn’t matter how he spent the time afterwards. Him leaving the manor would then mean that neither James or Y/N had a way to leave. 

It was a sound plan, and Lydia knew that the probability of it working was high. 

—

“Hey! Y/N!” Y/N turned around at the sound of her name being called. Behind her, Lydia hurried over to her. She stopped, waiting for her friend to catch up so that they could walk side by side. “What are you doing tonight?” Lydia asked. Y/N shrugged. 

“Nothing really. Mom and dad are home but I don’t have anything planned with them. I was probably just going to watch some movies and call it an early night.” 

“Would you want to come over for a bit? Do some swimming. Maybe stay the night? Our parents are out of town for a few nights for a business trip.” Lydia had explained. 

“Who all is going to be there?” She had asked. 

“Just me and James, plus you. Figured the three of us could hang out without the suffocation of a party.” Lydia had explained. 

Y/N thought about it. Admittedly, getting out of the house for a little bit had seemed like a better idea. Lydia could tell she was contemplating it. The way Y/N tilted her head and bit the inside of her cheek, some of the very few mannerisms she possessed that gave away when she was truly thinking about something told her so. Mannerisms that James had appeared to have fallen in love with. 

After several moments, and pausing in the hallway of Maxton, Y/N had given Lydia her answer. 

“Alright. I’ll come over.” 

“Cool! I’ll have Percy pick you up at about 5!” Y/N agreed, telling her that that worked for her, and left her friend behind so that she could move on to her next class, which she also shared with James. 

Lydia watched as Y/N met up with James outside of their next class, a smirk on her face, and then left quickly, before either of them noticed that she was watching. 

“Hey.” James smiled at Y/N as they walked into the classroom. “So did Lydia talk to you yet?” He asked, as they set their stuff down on the shared desk and took their respective seats. “Something about just us three. Swimming. Maybe some movies. Something like that.” 

“Yea, actually. Just before I came here. I told her that I should be free to come over. She said she would send Percy later to come get me.” 

“What about your driver?” 

“Sick. I gave them a few days off.” Y/N flipped through her notes, trying to find where she left off. James watched as she did so, his eyes on her fingers as they flipped through the pages, before he turned his attention to her face. She was concentrated, focused on trying to find where she left off in her note taking. 

“What time did she tell you?” 

“Percy will be at my place at five.” He nodded slightly as she finally looked up at him. “She said I could also potentially stay the night. Mentioned something about how your parents are out of town for a business trip?” 

“Yea. Meetings with potential business partners for their next clothing line.” He explained. “They will be gone most of the week.” She nodded in understanding. James flashed her a smile, one that she had returned as their professor walked in, introducing their topic for the day.

—

Percy was a few minutes early, rolling the car in the driveway of her family manor at about quarter to five. Stepping out of the car, he greeted her politely, flashing her a small smile as she advanced over to the car. 

“Good evening, Percy.” She flashed a smile back at him, thanking him as he opened the back door for her. He had taken her overnight bag, putting it in the trunk of the car. 

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. I hope you are well.” 

“I am. Thank you. I hope Lydia and James are treating you well.” She teased. He flashed her a smile of amusement as another voice rang out, just as she climbed into the vehicle. 

“We are treating him just fine.” Y/N was met face to face by James, who flashed her an amused smile as she took her seat next to him. The door closed and the two flashed each other a smile. 

“Miss me?” she asked. Percy climbed into the driver side seat, putting the car into drive and taking the three of them back to the Beaufort manor. James smiled brightly at her.

“Always.” 

Percy watched them from the rearview mirror, taking in the interactions to the two of them. Lydia had been right, about the way the two of them look at each other. The way James looked at her when she was talking, like he wanted to take in everything she was saying and have it memorized. The way Y/N watched as he drew in his sketchbook or the way he watched her as she watched the numerous trees and other flora as they drove. Lydia was right when she told Percy all those days ago about how oblivious they were. The emotions in their faces surely show how they feel about the other, but both are too oblivious to say or do anything.  He smirked, turning his eyes back on the road. 

Arriving at the manor, Percy had stayed with the car, while James and Y/N had gotten out. James took her bag inside, handing it to another person to take to Lydia's room, where she would likely be sleeping. 

Lydia was already outside at the pool when the two finally joined her. She looked up and back at them, a smile on her face. Standing up from where she was dipping her toes into the pool, she walked over to them. She bypassed James, who only playfully rolled his eyes as she hugged Y/N. 

“Glad you can make it. You guys enjoy the water and snacks. I’m going to go and get changed. Be back in a jiffy.” And with that, Lydia was gone. James, who was already wearing some swim trunks with a t-shirt when they picked up Y/N, had taken off his shirt, leaving Y/N the only one who had yet to show her swimsuit. 

Her eyes were on James body for several seconds and had stayed focused on him for several more seconds after he had jumped into the pool.

Y/N had been smart, having put her swimsuit on underneath her clothes before Percy and James arrived at her home. She had slipped off her shirt, exposing her skin and the bikini top that she wore. James had caught sight, his eyes on her before he dipped underneath the water before she could catch him staring. When he had come back up, she had already pulled her shorts off, fully revealing herself in her two-piece bikini. 

While James slowly swam around the perimeter of the pool, Y/N relaxed on a floaty, drifting around the pool. The two relaxed like that for a little bit until one of them realized that one of them was still missing. 

“James.” He had looked over at Y/N, who now sat on the end of the pool, a water bottle in her hand. 

“Hmm?” 

“Did Lydia come out at all?” She asked. “I would have figured that she would be out here by now.” James stopped swimming, moving to stand in the shallow end of the pool. He looked past her, towards the open doors that led into the house. 

“No I haven’t.” He finally answered. His eyes drifted back towards Y/N, where some droplets of water rolled down her stomach. Her hair was wet, meaning that she had slipped into the water at some point and he didn’t notice. She tilted her head in thought, turning her body around as well to look inside the house. 

James watched as she stood up and walked over to the chairs. She didn’t find any sign that Lydia might have even been there in the first place, and no phone was found. 

“Her phone isn’t here. Maybe she has it. I can give her a call.” Y/N walked back over to her own phone, picked it up, and easily dialed Lydia’s number. James watched as she pressed her phone to her ear, but after several seconds, put her phone back down. “No answer.” 

“She’s probably okay. Probably just got caught up doing something else. Maybe she’s taking a nap so she can conserve energy for movies later.” James reassured her, and Y/N agreed. James wasn’t sure where his sister went, and it definitely wasn’t a part of their plans. 

Unless it was a part of her plans. 

Y/N shrugged and had gone back to sit on the side of the pool, her feet dangling in the water. James went back to floating around the pool. His eyes moved over to Y/N several times. They were alone and she was right there. He could say what he wanted and make his move. If he was rejected, no one would know. 

Her eyes were on the book she was reading, invested in the pages and the words that told the story within them. He hovered in the water for several moments before he finally decided to slowly make his way across the pool. 

His eyes had remained on her, watching her movements as he neared her. The way her fingers flipped to the next page. How her expression changed based on the scene she was reading. He was happy to listen to her when she went on and on about a book that was either currently reading or had just finished, having loved the way that she got so much joy and excitement from something so simple. 

When he finally reached her, his hand reached out for the book, gently setting it aside without getting it wet. Y/N was confused, a noise getting caught in the back of her throat as James put his palm on the edge of the pool, hoisting himself partially out of the water and slightly closer to her. He made eye contact with her, before he looked down at her lips. She caught the movement, relaxing as she waited. She knew what he wanted at that moment, and when he didn’t make the move first, she did. 

Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even more closer, and pressed her lips against his. He quickly melted into it, one arm wrapping around her waist. James tugged her into the pool once more, before pinning her against the side of it. Her arms remained around his neck, while his arms looped behind her, settling the edge of the pool. 

It was a slow and gentle kiss, allowing the two to enjoy and savor it. Her hands tangled themselves into his hair, and one of his hands moved to her back, his fingers splayed across her skin. James was running out of breath, as was Y/N, but the two hesitated to separate, as both of them seemed to have wanted their first kiss together to go on longer than what was physically possible. 

And when they finally pulled away from each other, they rested their foreheads against each others, breathing heavily, a small smile on their lips. 

“Do you think Lydia left?” Y/N asked. 

“I think this was part of her plan.” James agreed. “Get us alone together. Means Percy was probably also in on it.”  Y/N laughed a little. 

“You sister, playing matchmaker, and Percy helping. Who knew.”

“My guess is that they knew something we didn’t.” He had smiled, kissing her again, this time with a bit more energy. James had stared at her lips, before moving away and planting kisses along her jaw, pressed one final one to her forehead, and then moved back down to her lips. He was kissing her like a man starved of it all.  

“How about we watch those movies?” He finally asked, after finding the heart to stop kissing Y/N and finally allowing her to breathe. She gave him a smile and nodded. 

That was how Lydia had found the two of them. They were laying on the couch in the shared living area that Lydia and James shared, the tv going on in the background. James was on his back, his head against the arm of the couch, and Y/N was asleep on his chest. Her arms wrapped around James, and a blanket was wrapped around her. 

Lydia had smirked, snapped a photo to show Percy that the plan had worked, and wandered off to get ready for bed, leaving the two by themselves.

----

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@sillyfreakfanparty

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 6

Yay! Another History Nerd Steve!! And I got a shit ton of awesome writing done yesterday so I was able to catch up to omegaverse. But it's looking like this one will finish first. As I think I have one or two more chapters to go on this one (as in past my backlog not past this chapter specifically).

In this chapter we get Eddie being a good dad, Mike getting introspective and Will getting some perspective of his own. And a little bit of Eddie keeping Mike humble for funsies.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Eddie gathered Mike and El up and took them outside of Will’s hearing.

“Hey,” he said gently, “I’m not mad at you, okay? But I have to explain something to you both.”

Mike and El looked at each other in confusion. “About what?” El asked.

“About offering to help Will buy the staff,” Eddie said. “It showed that you are kind and generous people who only want to help their friend, but Will does not see it that way.”

“He doesn’t?” El asked.

“When you grow up poor,” Eddie said fiercely, “it is drilled into you that any help at all is charity and should be avoided at all cost.”

Mike and El looked at each other again, their confusion even greater than before.

“But why?” El asked.

“Because supposed ‘well meaning’ people,” Eddie put air quotes around well meaning, “think that when you are poor you don’t deserve good things and gifts like that always come with strings attached.”

“So Will thinks that if we help buy the staff we’re going to ask him to do something that he might not want to do but will feel he has to because we bought him the staff?” El asked in one great big rush.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Eddie said. “Do I think you’d hold it against him? No. But...”

“But when it’s all you know it’s hard to see there is a problem,” Mike muttered looking at his shoes, remembering what had happened only hours before.

Eddie’s expression softened. “The very like.” He gave them a group hug. “Besides Steve’s got it covered.”

Mike and El stepped back, confusion back on their faces.

“What do you mean?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “If the staff is still there on Saturday, Steve going to suddenly have ten extra dollars from Joyce that she gave him for Will’s meals that he didn’t end up spending because Will eats like a bird.”

El frowned. “But that would be a lie and friends don’t lie.”

Eddie shrugged. “Is it a lie or is it Steve stretching the truth a little to help a friend. After all your friends have lied for you. Lying to you to make you feel better is something that isn’t going to hurt anything in the long run.”

“I don’t understand,” El said, tilting her head.

“It’s like you could tell Mike he looks hideous in yellow,” Eddie pointed out. “But he wears it because it’s your favorite color. Him wearing yellow isn’t hurting anyone and it’s sweet he’s wearing it for you. So if he asked how the yellow hat looks on him you would say what? That it looks awful or that you love it because you understand the intentions behind it?”

El blinked. “You’re right. Thank you!”

Eddie smiled and began walking back to the table.

Mike started hurrying after him. “But I don’t look hideous in yellow, right? Right, Eddie?”

Eddie just kept walking with his smile turning into a feral grin.

****

Steve smiled at Eddie when he sat back down next to him. He bumped him with his shoulder. “If I’m the mom, you’re their dad.”

Eddie turned bright red and shoved his hair in front of his face. “Shut it.”

Steve bumped their shoulders together. “I think between the two of us we form one half-way decent parental figure.”

Eddie smiled that closed lipped dimpled smile that Steve loved so damn much and he couldn’t help but smile back.

Holy shit was this crush getting wildly out of hand. He just wanted kiss those dimples so, so much.

Across from them Mike raised an eyebrow. He looked between the two older boys and after a moment he made the connection. He thought about it for a moment and decided it wasn’t any of his business as long Steve didn’t take over their DnD time.

And considering how well Steve respected that time as friends with Eddie, he really didn’t think dating would change all that much. Just the level of PDA they would show would change.

Mike continued to watch them to see if they were a couple and hiding it or if they hadn’t gotten there yet.

His consensus? Hell if he knew, to be honest.

But better Eddie than Nancy at this point was all he was going to say on the matter.

They finally were all done with their food and they all split off again. He watched Steve and Eddie go off together and shook his head.

Will tilted his head. “What’s up?”

Mike knew what Will was. Had done for ages now. He just smiled at his best friend. “I haven’t held much stock in there being one person for you in all the world, but you know sometimes you see two people together and just think ‘yeah, I couldn’t see them with anyone else,’ you know?”

Will looked in the direction Steve and Eddie were walking away and nodded. “Yeah, I think I do.”

****

While there wasn’t much to do the kids still came home that night filled with tales of wonder and amazement.

But later that night Will came and knocked on Jonathan’s door.

Jonathan pulled off his headphones and motioned him in.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked as Will hesitantly stepped into the room.

Will sat gingerly on the bed. “How well do you know Steve?”

Jonathan sighed. “Probably not as well as I should. He was around in the outside of my circle and then we’d only really see each other when the world was ending. Why? What’s up?��

Will twisted his fingers nervously. “What would you say the possibility was of him liking guys?

That brought up Jonathan short. Sure there was a chance that Will was just projecting his hopes for Mike onto the older boy, but this was Will and his little brother was far too perceptive for his own good.

So he gave it some real thought. All the times he saw Steve in high school and around town. All the times they interacted to help save the world. And he was starting get a picture.

Jonathan shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible. It’s hard to tell admiring glances from signs of attraction.”

Will cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Would you say Max or Robin were pretty?” Jonathan asked scooting over on the bed to sit next to Will.

Will shrugged back. “I mean, I guess. My friends are attracted to them so they must be.”

“Right,” Jonathan agreed. “Is Mike good looking?”

Will snorted. “Not really, maybe when he’s gotten past the awkward giraffe stage. Steve though...” He ducked his head and blushed.

Jonathan laughed. “Fair enough. I’m not attracted to guys and even I know that Steve is hot.”

“So attraction is more than looks?” Will asked. “Like you can find someone of the opposite that you’re attracted to good looking, but you wouldn’t want to date them or have sex with them?”

Jonathan nodded. “So while it’s possible Steve could be attracted to guys, I really couldn’t be the judge of that. Why do you ask?”

“I think even Mike picked up on Steve and Eddie’s flirting today,” Will muttered.

Jonathan’s eyebrows really did shoot up on that one. If Mike picked up that Steve was flirting with Eddie...

But then again... actually.

“That makes more sense then you realize,” he told Will slowly.

Will straightened up. “What do you mean?” He was really getting tired of asking that phrase at the moment.

“Who would know more about what Steve’s flirting looks like from the outside,” Jonathan said, “then someone who witnessed it with his own sister.”

“Oh. Nancy. Yeah, you’re right that does make sense.” Will blinked away his confusion.

Jonathan smiled. “So did you get the answer you were looking for?”

Will thought for a moment. “I think so. I mean Robin and Eddie have come out to us, but Steve hasn’t.” He paused for a moment. “Though, I think that Steve may have hinted it to me earlier. I told him that I thought Eddie might like him back, but I don’t know if that was enough, you know? For him to come out, I mean.”

“It could be that Steve hasn’t figured it out fully himself,” Jonathan said with a huff of laughter. “Like he might know he has feelings for Eddie, but not what those feelings mean.”

Will nodded. “Thanks, Jonathan. I’ll let you get back to your music.”

“Oh shit!” Jonathan scrambled to stop the tape. He sighed when he realized it was near the end of it. He hit rewind and looked back at Will shaking his head fondly.

“I think you need to lay off the weed, dude,” Will said, getting to his feet.

“Never!” Jonathan shouted after him, but Will had already slammed the door behind him.

****

Mike was lying on his bed looking up at the ceiling. Unlike what he knew was happening in friends houses’, the near constant talking about how awesome their day was, Mike had made an excuse that he was just tired, that he did have fun and couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

In the dark comfort of his own room, he knew they weren’t lies. Not really. He was all three of those things, but he also had a lot on his mind.

Racism and homophobia. He remembered all the awful things he had thrown at Will. All the things he said to Lucas.

He knew his parents were conservative. Whatever the hell that really meant. But they weren’t bad people. His mom had never tried to tell him not to be friends with Lucas or that gay people were evil.

But all the little things were starting to add up. Gay men deserved to die because the disease didn’t affect anyone else and they just weren’t the effort.

But he thought about Will and Eddie. And yeah, maybe Steve, too. Did they really deserve to die just because of how they had sex? That didn’t sit well with Mike. It made his stomach turn uneasily.

Dustin had been right about the Vulcans, they were of different colors, too. So why couldn’t elves? Why were the Drow evil? Was that racism, too? Plus did it even matter?

Almost all the campaigns Mike had been in were what the game makers called home-brew.

Yes, they used the game as the framework, but then colored outside of the lines all the time.

After all, Vecna was just a lore character where only the dude’s hand and eye were left out in the world. But Eddie had taken that lore and turned it into an amazing story.

He got ready for bed and laid back down. He stared up at his ceiling again. He had been a bad friend for years. Ever since El came into their lives, she was his only focus. It was a god damn miracle that they hadn’t thrown him off before now.

There must be something that they still liked. He would just have to figure out what it was and lean into that.

And with that, Mike drifted off to sleep as tried to figure out ways to keep his friends.

****

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @customization @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot

[say-al0e]

Call

Rating: M | No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Jake has been back at Top Gun for nearly a week. He’s finally found a moment to crack open the photo album you sent with him and has to call to express his appreciation. | Ft. “If you called me just to get off on my voice, I’m hanging up,” + “Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious?” requested by Anon.

Warnings: Phone/virtual sex, Jake is a simp (firmly believe he would be after a long battle to settle down), stress baking, reader lives to tease Jake because his ego needs a check, mentions of wearing his shirt, rusty smut because it’s been a while.

Pairing: Hangman x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Top Gun Taglist | Requests are open!

As always seemed to be the case in the Seresin household, music - this time, a playlist of Jake’s favorites that included a mixture of classic country and what you’d dubbed ‘dad rock’, just to irk his nerves - masked the silence. There was an abundance of it in Jake’s absence, heightened with each hour that passed without him, and you were happy to fill it however you could.

Music reverberated through the kitchen, accompanied by the sounds of utensils clattering around the cabinets as you dug through piles of dishes and measured ingredients, until an incoming call interrupted Tim McGraw. There were only a handful of people who would call and the sight of Jake’s name, accompanied by a photo of him wearing a cowboy hat and flashing his brightest grin, sent you scrambling to answer.

With a grin of your own, you shoved the bag of flour aside and swiped at the screen with powdery fingers. “Miss me already, Hangman?”

Though the question was playful, teasing, you missed him more than you could admit. 

Jake had only been gone five days - barely any time at all, in the grand scheme of things - and hadn’t even left the state. However, you’d both been spoiled. Since being stationed at Lemoore, Jake had yet to be deployed. It gave you an opportunity to put down roots - rent a place together, seriously look into getting a dog, have those first conversations about marriage and children and where you wanted to settle - and while he’d struggled with it at first, Jake Seresin had fallen headfirst into domesticity and took you down with him.

It took only a matter of months for you to go from seeing one another once a week to spending nearly every night together. It took exactly a year for you to begin living together. And now, just over a year into your relationship, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been forced to sleep without Jake by your side and you were feeling it.

Still, as much as you missed him, admitting that aloud would only crack the facade you’d crafted to keep Jake from worrying about you anymore than he already was. So, you took the opportunity to tease him instead.

“Honestly,” you hummed, biting back laughter as you resumed your search through the cabinet, “I figured it’d be at least a week before you even thought about little ole me. Back to being hotshot Hangman at Top Gun with all your friends, no time for the little people.”

A huff of laughter, quiet but clearly amused, sounded as you imagined Jake shaking his head. “Well, I would’ve waited,” Jake returned, clearly grinning, “but then I found this pretty little photo album in my bag and got a damn good reminder of what I’m missing.”

The album was stuffed full of photos, all taken in your newly shared bed - all of you in various states of undress, in various compromising positions - and you knew that it was only a matter of time before he broke it out. From the little he’d shared over text, it seemed that every moment of every day was being consumed by training, both in the air and in the classroom, but you knew that letting him off too easy would only balloon the ego his fellow aviators were likely already struggling with.

“You know, I was starting to think I was going to have to text you a preview, remind you it was there.” Jake scoffed - as if to say there was no need for a reminder - and you grinned as you leaned against the counter. “You like it?”

Jake hadn’t seen any of the photos before he left. The album was kept a surprise until the moment he gathered his bags to make the short journey to North Island. You pressed into his hands as he made his way to his truck and had a few moments of anxiety, wondering whether he would like the photos - whether they were as sexy as you hoped they were - but mounting evidence suggested he did.

“I love it, sweets. So much so, in fact, that I thought I’d give you a call to express my appreciation.”

It was likely Jake heard your stifled laughter as you resumed stacking bowls on the counter. However, given the tone of his voice, he likely didn’t care.

There was a rasp to his voice, a gravelly warmth that you only heard with his lips pressed to your skin, accompanied by a few soft puffs of heavier breathing. The desire in his voice was evident and you could feel the low embers of a fire starting in the pit of your stomach as you waited for him to ask for what he wanted.

“Talk to me, sugar. Tell me what all I’ve missed.” His request was innocent enough, a quiet command wrapped in an accent only slightly exaggerated, but it still made your heart beat just a touch faster.

Jake truly cared about what he was missing - so much so, in fact, that he’d not only encouraged your idea of keeping a journal for him to read when he returned, but actually went out and bought one for you before he left - but you knew that catching up was not his goal in that moment.

The mental image of him nearly made you fold. Knowing that he was hidden away, lying in a bed too far from home, thumbing through an album full of photos of you made your skin heat. Knowing that Jake - beautiful, bright, accomplished, wonderful Jake - called to get off to your image, the sound of your voice, made you want to abandon your baking and join him in the pursuit of pleasure.

However, as much as you wanted to give in immediately, you knew better.

“Jacob Seresin,” you scolded, struggling to hide your fondness - and arousal - as you did, “if you called me just to get off to my voice, I’m hanging up.”

A playful huff, exaggerated for your amusement, sounded over the line as he shifted. The sound of springs squeaking, cheap furniture knocking into a wall, nearly broke you as you imagined him pouting while lounging atop the less than ideal bed in his room. “Oh, come on. I know you miss me.”

It was impossible to detail how much you truly missed him without monopolizing the conversation - or turning it into a somber moment neither of you had the emotional wherewithal to stand, losing yourself to the fear and worry that simmered in the pit of your stomach with each passing day - so, you opted to laugh. “That’s debatable, Hangman.” It wasn’t, not even in the slightest, and Jake knew it.

Jake tutted, a teasing sound you’d heard more than once, and you imagined him leaning against the wall, phone pressed between his shoulder and cheek as he waited for you to give in. “If you wanna be mean, I could just go take care of myself in the shower,” he drawled, purposely leaning into his accent in an effort to rile you up. He knew what it did to you, how weak in the knees it made you, and you struggled to bite back a soft sigh as he continued. “I was trying to be generous, though. I figured my pretty girl was missing my voice, my hands, my tongue, my cock…”

There was no doubt he heard your sharp intake of breath at the mental picture he painted, the sudden image of him lying in bed, hand wrapped around his cock as he waited for your willing participation. It was likely he was grinning, content in the knowledge that he had you right where he wanted you. However, before he could continue, you shifted and sent the stack of dishes you’d left perched precariously on the edge of the counter crashing to the floor.

“What the hell was that? Are you alright?”

The immediate shift between that low, seductive tone and sharp concern made you laugh as you eyed the pile of dishes now lying on the floor. Luckily, none were glass - those remained in the cabinet or nestled further back on the counter - and nothing had broken.

“I’m fine,” you assured him with a laugh, “sorry. Before you and your libido so rudely interrupted, I was trying to find those big mixing bowls. I’m testing another pie recipe before we go to Texas for Thanksgiving. After the apple pie disaster at Friendsgiving last year, I’m trying to not embarrass myself with a pie your mom will approve of. I want her to love me.”

Jake heaved a heavy sigh, relieved you weren’t injured, before that playful taunting resumed. “Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious, sweets?”

A snort of amusement, decidedly not sexy but honest, escaped as you shook your head and began cleaning the mess. “What about me destroying the kitchen in an effort to impress your mom is supposed to turn you on? I think all the jet fuel flames are starting to go to your head, babe.”

“Effort’s sexy,” Jake defended, though it sounded so nonchalant you could imagine him shrugging as he did. “But I know you, sugar. You’re stress baking.” His observation was not inaccurate - since he left for North Island, you’d baked a dozen cookies, a batch of muffins, and two pies - but before you could even attempt to soothe the notion, Jake spoke. “Drop the apples and get that cute ass to the bedroom.”

“Jake -“

On the other end of the line, Jake gave you little room to argue. “That’s an order, sweets. Hop to.”

Though there was no real authority in his tone, no expectation that you would do as he said just because he told you to, you still dropped the bowls onto the counter. More often than not, sex was an equalizer - you could bring Jake to his knees just as easily as he could get you to yours - but, occasionally, he took control and you were glad to let him.

“Gone, not even a week, and you’re already barking out orders,” you huffed, playful and teasing. "I’ll have you remember that I am not in the Navy and I don’t have to follow orders,” you reminded him, even as you quickly washed the flour from your hands and set off toward the bedroom.

“Hm. We’ll see about that when I get home,” he teased. You could imagine the smirk on his lips, that insufferably smug look that had gone from infuriating to endearing over the course of your relationship, and you rolled your eyes as you stepped through the open bedroom door. “For now, be a good girl and tell me what you’re wearing.”

As cheesy as it seemed, Jake’s playful order set your skin alight. The directive, drawled slow and deliberate, washed over you and settled in the pit of your stomach as you gave in to the desire you’d been neglecting.

For every quip you threw back at him, for every moment you spent giving as good as you got, Jake knew you well. He knew that you liked the moments he took charge, the moments he gave into that Hangman persona and tossed out orders in that Texan drawl, significantly more than you let on.

Jake knew what you liked but he also knew what you needed. And in that moment, still a little unsure and delving into the unknown of a first assignment, you needed him to nudge you in the right direction.

Still, you never went down without a fight.

“You’re insufferable,” you sighed, though there was no heat behind the jab as you climbed onto the bed that felt far too large without him. The words sounded as breathless as you felt, eager and wanting, and Jake laughed lightly. “But, if you must know, I’m wearing one of your old training shirts. Stole it from your side of the dresser this morning,” you admitted, fingers dropping to the soft, worn fabric as you stretched out atop the mattress. In a moment of vulnerability, desperate to remind Jake that you missed him - even if you playfully denied it - you continued, “Didn’t really smell like you ‘cause we use the same detergent now, so I sprayed some of your cologne on it.”

On the other end of the line, Jake groaned. It was as much a product of the distance, the hundreds of miles that separated you, as it was the mental image of you lying in his shirt and smelling of his cologne. “You’re killin’ me, sweets,” he huffed, softer than you imagined. He paused for a moment, likely to gather himself, and you nearly apologized for ruining the moment. However, before you could, he asked, “That all you’re wearin’?”

There would be time for sentimental later, after you’ve both satisfied a need you’d been putting off, so you swallowed the emotion creeping up your throat and laughed.

“No. I’m wearing those fuzzy Halloween socks. You’re missing the height of fashion here, babe,” you informed him, grinning as you leaned back against the mountain of pillows.

“A real fashion icon,” Jake agreed with a laugh. “You’re makin’ it hard for me to seduce you with all the jokes, sugar. I leave for a few days and suddenly you’re a comedian.”

“You’re just so fun to fuck with.” You could practically picture him rolling his eyes, even as he grinned at the quip, but before he could return your banter, you hummed thoughtfully. “But, if you really want to know, I’m also wearing those lace panties you love. The blue ones?”

A groan of appreciation sounded over the line. “Come on, now,” he huffed, though he sounded anything but put out, “I think you’re just teasing me and that’s not very nice.”

“Wish I was, babe, but I’m not.”

Jake hummed, thoughtful and appreciative at your willingness to indulge him. “The album is good, sweets, but I’m missing the real thing,” he admitted, voice dipping a little lower once more - returning to that drawl he knew made you weak in the knees. “Mind if we switch to FaceTime?”

It was your turn to scoff as you shifted in bed. “Never.”

This would be a rarity - Jake had warned you that other assignments would be different, would include less traditional communication and more sporadic emails - so you knew to take advantage of it. There was also no chance you were going turn down the opportunity to see Jake after five long days of nothing.

When you turned on your camera, you were met with the sight of a shirtless Jake, hair slightly damp and cheeks lightly flushed. He looked to be fresh from a shower, and the sight was enough to warm you from within as you reveled in just how beautiful he was.

“There she is,” he cooed, grinning as he tilted his head to take you in. “Look at you, sweetheart. Such a pretty little thing. Fuck, I miss seeing this everyday,” he drawled, voice straining lightly as he shifted to give you a better angle.

“Hate to inflate your ego even more, Hangman, but same,” you assured him, not bothering to hide your smile when he tipped his chin and smirked. “How much time do you have?”

“Enough.” The answer was vague, not exactly what you were hoping for, but it conveyed his point; there was time for teasing but nowhere near enough for you to take your time.

“Then we better not waste any of it, huh?”

Jake watched, green eyes hooded and darkening with every moment, as you gripped the hem of your top and began inching it up your thighs. “You’ve got some catching up to do, sweetheart,” he teased, lips curving into a smirk as he shifted the phone.

From the new angle, you could see that he’d nudged his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. Your earlier assumption had been correct - he had one hand wrapped around the base, grip loose - and you imagined he’d been leisurely stroking his cock as he listened to your voice. Even in the awful overhead light, you could see that it was slick with precum, and didn’t bother to hide a soft sigh at the sight of him.

“It’s really annoying how hot you are. You know that, right?” Jake laughed at your huffing, though you could see the pride he took in your compliment. “You’ve ruined me, you asshole. Between how hot you look and that fucking voice, I’m already wet,” you admitted as your fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties.

“Good. Not gonna pretend you haven’t done the same. All it took was thinking about how pretty you look in my clothes to get me hard.” Jake groaned as his hand began to work his cock slowly, fingers curling around the base a little tighter as he watched you inch the blue fabric down your thighs. “Then I opened that fucking album and, shit, sweetheart, I’m a goner.”

Hearing that Jake was as gone for you as you were for him both warmed your heart and sent heat rushing to your center. It was impossible not to be effected by his attention and you were eager to show him how desperate you were for him as you shifted to part your thighs.

“Glad we’re going down together, then, babe.”

Jake’s eyes, usually so bright and warm, grew darker as your hand trailed up your thigh. His reply died on the tip of his tongue, forgotten as he took in the sight of your fingers inching closer to your dripping folds. There wasn’t an ounce of dishonesty in your assertion, no need to tease when Jake was able to fluster you with nothing more than a look and a well-placed southern-ism, and you could see the pleasure in his gaze when he realized you were just as turned on as him.

Conscious of his rapt attention, you watched him from beneath your lashes as your fingers brushed your slick folds.

There was no denying Jake was beautiful - golden skin and hair, warm green eyes, brilliant smile - but you were struck by just how fucking gorgeous he was as you took in the sight of him. Flushed cheeks, slight pink tinge trailing down his neck and chest; hair soft, damp and free of product; eyes dark, blown wide with lust and so focused as they tracked the movement of your fingers. It was a sight to behold, one that never failed to make your knees weak, and you were grateful you’d taken a chance on him as you pressed your fingers to your aching clit.

Soft sighs, breathless little puffs that were in no way exaggerated for Jake, made him groan as you pressed a finger into your entrance. Your anxiety had kept you from needing a release, had really kept you from even considering it, but you realized just how much you’d missed his touch and that heat building in the pit of your stomach as you sank into the plush comfort of your shared bed.

For a moment, you simply focused on Jake. You thought about him - his hands, his mouth, his voice, his cock - and exhaled sharply as you attempted to curl your fingers in the way he so often did. It wasn’t the same, not even close, but you tried not to frown as you watched him.

It was difficult to choose where to focus as you watched him. The pinch of his brows, the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, the heave of his chest, the bulge of his biceps, the dripping red tip of his cock; everything about him was stunning, eye-catching and so fucking beautiful that it drew a sharp moan from you as you spread your legs just a touch wider.

As beautiful as he was, having his full attention on you, his gaze tracking every twitch of your fingers and flutter of your lashes, made you feel powerful. There was a weight to it, a heft that you reveled in, as his gaze flickered between your hands and your face.

“C’mon, sugar,” he urged, voice tight and clearly displaying the effect you had on him. “I know that’s not enough. Give me another.” Jake knew your limits, likely better than you did, and his encouragement was all the push you needed to press a second finger into your entrance.

Few words were shared as you both worked yourselves up. The slick sounds of your fingers rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves, pressing insistently into your dripping entrance, his hand fisting his cock; the breathless puffs, the soft moans, the eager grunt as he finally allowed himself to chase his high - each sound melded with the previous one, reminded you of the moments you shared with him and made you ache for his presence.

“Really missing the real thing right about now,” Jake admitted, voice strained as his hand wrapped around his cock. “Always so fucking wet for me, so responsive,” he praised, gaze dipping to watch your fingers circle your clit.

The warmth in his voice made your skin heat and you knew he took great pride in how flustered he was able to make you, even under the circumstances. He looked just as effected as you, just as eager for a release, and you were helpless to do more than give in to him.

Despite knowing you would pay for it later, you still allowed yourself to stroke his ego. It had been months since you’d needed to get yourself off and you had no problem admitting, “My fingers don’t compare to yours.”

“That what you want? My fingers?”

“If that’s all I could get, I’d take it,” you confirmed, not bothering to roll your eyes at his smug grin. “You’re good and you know it, move on.”

“Alright,” he laughed, though the sound was as breathless as you felt. “Promise I’ll be nice when I get home and take care of you. For now, help me out. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make when you come for me, sugar. Know it’s tough but you can do it. Be a good girl and come for me.”

Jake’s encouragement was necessary, the soft order - though not really - drew a whine from deep within as you focused on bringing yourself over the edge. It was easy with such a beautiful sight before you. You focused on him, watching as his hand moved over his cock, as his chest heaved and stomach flexed with each stroke, and you allowed yourself to fantasize about the future.

The night before he left was the best sex you’d ever had - emotional, desperate, breathtaking - and you knew it would only be beaten by reunion sex. There was little you could do but cling to him, sink your nails into his back and bury your head in the crook of his neck as he pressed as deep as your body would allow, and you knew that you would soon be given another opportunity to have him like that.

Still, the thing that finally pushed you over the edge was witnessing Jake’s own pleasure. Watching the way his eyes fluttered shut, the way his lips parted and his thighs tensed, made you press your fingers a little deeper. Hearing him fall over the edge with a breathless call of your name, a soft grunt followed by an expletive, stole the air from your lungs and you knew you were done for.

With a cry of Jake’s name, you followed him over the edge almost immediately. There was little you could do but ride out the wave, chest heaving and ears ringing as you allowed the pleasure to wash over you, and Jake seemed to be of the same mindset on the other end of the line. For a moment, you allowed your eyes to close, but when you opened them once more, you were met with warm green.

“I really do miss you, sugar,” Jake admitted, voice quiet as his breathing evened out. “You know that, right?”

For all the banter, for all the teasing you shared, you knew exactly where you stood with Jake. He missed you just as much as you missed him and had no intention of letting you end the call without making sure you knew that. “Never doubted it, Jake,” you assured him, smiling as you tilted your head to rest on his pillow. “I miss you, too. Just a few more weeks, though, and you’ll be back home.”

This mission was dangerous - you both knew that - and for all his bravado, you knew that Jake was worried he wouldn’t make it home to you. It was a fear you shared, one that kept you awake and had you destroying your kitchen in an effort to distract yourself, but there was no chance you’d voice the concern to one another.

Doubt could be saved, what-if’s discussed when he made it home to you. For now, it was enough to shoot him a smile and curl into his side of the bed. “I love you,” Jake declared, smile soft. “Get some rest.”

“I love you, too. Take care of yourself, Hangman.”

With a final smile, Jake nodded. “Always, sugar. See you soon.” 

A few weeks still separated you and Jake, however, you let that thought drift from your mind. Knowing that even while away, he still wanted you just as much as you wanted him, that he still missed you and loved, brought you comfort. Time would pass and, soon, he would be back in your home. Until then, you’d just have to hold tight.

_______________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I’m an obnoxious soccer fan and have been living for the World Cup. I have a flight home tomorrow. Got it early so I could still watch the US play Wales. Flight was delayed and I will be in the air the entire fucking game. I’m gonna kermit. At least I have time to write while I’m waiting, I guess.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles​, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth​, @withakindheartx​, @ssprayberrythings​, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath​, @alexparkxr​

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being a merchant's son who seduces a passing Dothraki, not realising until your father catches you in bed together that it's Khal Drogo.

The fact that it was the biggest tent out of the bunch should have tipped you off to the fact that this was no ordinary Dothraki soldier - but with those muscles in your line of vision, you were completely blind to all else.

The experience had been magical, to say the least. He filled you. He fulfilled you. He was rougher than any lover that you had before but that had been part of the charm. To put it lightly, you had been manhandled in the very best way. Those that were outside celebrating the night and the goods that they had traded with your father for, must have heard at least some of the noises. You held nothing back.

Khal Drogo was a dream. It was beautiful, and dazed and you saw stars all around you, but like all dreams, you had to wake up evenually. And it was unfortunately by your father, who was imploring the guards outside of the tent to see if you were in there, for you had been missing for a couple of hours now and he had checked everywhere else.

The Dothraki spoke back in their own harsh language, which was nothing at all like the ones that your father and yourself could speak, but their tone didn’t sound too happy at being asked to do something. An even greater shout when the curtain flew open and your father had taken the liberty of sticking his head and was exposed to the sight of his son and the Khal, naked without furs to cover you.

Your lover grew angry, and started yelling as well. You tried to calm him down with soothing touches. “Father,” You said, a word that was unknown to him. You tried to mime out that you knew this man, this older man. The looks that he gave you made you suspect that he thought your father was your lover. But you couldn’t think of any hand gestures that might mean dad.

“Get your clothes on and get out here this instant!” Your father said, letting the curtain fall back into place. The guards were laughing outside now, probably at the shame on your fathers face. The shame that you did not share, because you were not ashamed in the slightest. Just because he decided to dry up like a prune didn’t mean that you had to.

Though you did sheepily get out from the bed and gather your clothes. You were embarassed at being caught like that. Embarassed for your father. Khal Drogo did nothing but mutter some more hoarse words as you scrambled your way out, pulling your trousers up and chased after your father, who hit you upside the head once you reached his wagon.

“You idiot,” He grumbled at you. “You know that I don’t mind your lifestyle, but you were foolish to be with the Khal. One wrong move and he would have cut your head off right there, in that tent!”

“That was the Khal?” You asked, looking over your shoulder, watching as the burly naked man stepped out from his tent. The bright blue markings on his shoulder sparkled in the firelight. “Now that’s a story.”

Requested by: Anonymous

[ghoul-bonez]

~He’s The Best~

(Platonic! Sully Family x Fem! Family Member! Reader)

Summary: After getting out of a toxic relationship you have found love, true love.

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: (REPOSTED because I’m dumb and forgot tags and this flopped) @a-eddie asked He’s No Good part 2? Sooooooo Pt 2 of He’s No Good, hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of past toxic relationship

~He’s No Good (Part 1)~

~Masterlist~

He’s The Best

You were always strong and independent. You were an unbeatable fighter, in spirit and in physical strength. You carried yourself with an air of confidence around you, more so than most people had seen before. Your confidence was understandable to most, you seemed unbreakable, perfect.

You were a skilled hunter, and an even more skilled strategist. One of your favorite past times was helping your father plan attacks on the Sky People, and he would gladly take your help in any way.

Your dad would agree with anyone who accused him of passing on his stubborn genetics into you, but you also got your natural leadership from him.

From your mother you got her strength, in heart and muscle. She also bestowed you the gift of a great connection to the land and a natural awareness of your surroundings.

On the flip side you were wild and chaotic. You caused chaos everywhere you went, even unconsciously. Your confidence wasn’t always a good thing when you were so confident nothing could touch you. You enjoyed causing trouble on purpose, pranking people with Lo’ak and sneaking out at eclipse with your friends. The unknown chaos was worse though because instead of you meaning to cause it, it came as if there was an energy drawing it towards you.

You were untameable to most, but there were certain people who calmed the raging whirlwind of chaos that swirled within you.

One of those people was your younger sister, Kiri.

As you sat next to Kiri you felt calm, focusing your energy into weaving yourself a new top. Nothing needed to be said between the two of you, and you smiled as you looked over to her, watching her fingers move skillfully as she made Tuk a new bracelet.

Green, blue, and purple beads laid out in front of you and Kiri, you using what you needed of them to make your top, and Kiri using the leftovers to make Tuk’s bracelet and other small trinkets.

The beads reminded you of the forest which gave you the inspiration for your top, looking like winding roots of a tree as it draped across your shoulders and laid low against your chest.

It was inspired by the forest that had brought you new love, and your fingers paused in their weaving as you looked around, unconsciously looking for him, “Kiri I’ve met someone new…”

You didn’t look at her, instead still searching, but heard her hum, “I know.”

Shock was written on your face, and your head shot towards her to find her smiling at you, “What? How?”

“Eywa,” was a simple answer, of course she had heard from the Great Mother, “and anyone would be a fool to not notice your glances at Aluk’un.”

You hadn’t taken into account Kiri’s connection with Eywa, but her being able to tell without the Great Mother was still surprising, you thought you were hiding it well, “Do you think anyone else knows?”

Kiri giggled, like it was a stupid question, “Luckily for you our brothers are fools. Tuk approves of him though,” she nudged your side, “and I made her promise to not tell anyone.”

You placed down your top, putting your hands over your face to hide your embarrassment, “I don’t even think I want to know what our parents are thinking… Oh Eywa, dad.”

Kiri just shrugged, but was still smiling, “I guess you’ll have to get past that when you get there.”

Suddenly you felt Kiri stiffen next to you and an uncomfortable silence settled where comfortable conversation had filled your ears. You looked up and a frown settled onto your face, quickly overtaken by anger.

“What do you want?” You asked, making yourself sound as hostile as possible.

“I came to say I’m sorry…” Zepii spoke quietly, calmly.

You weren’t soft spoken or calm though, you were a spitfire, “You’ve tried to say sorry many times since I left your sorry ass. I don’t want to hear it.” You quickly tied off where you were beading your top and placed it aside, “I’m sorry Kiri, I have to go. Will you please take these home for me?” you pointed to your top and the beads laying around.

“Of course, (Y/n).” She gave you a reassuring hug, knowing you were both very uncomfortable, “And have a good time.” She winked at you. Apparently she knew where you were going. Who you were going to see.

Zepii had been attempting to apologize and get you back since the last woman he was trying to court, after you, left him. She had come to you, knowing your past with him, and you had reassured her she had made the right decision. Apparently he had been treating her just as he had been treating you.

You were making your way towards the forest, but as you stormed away from Zepii you saw him a few huts away, heading directly for him. You knew if Zepii found you he wouldn’t mess with him as he could easily outsmart and fight him.

Kiri, and the rest of your family, may help the whirlwind that resides within you subside, but Aluk’un helped in another way.

With your family it was a soft unspoken love that was held amongst you that helped calm you. You knew no matter what they would love you always and forever, and nobody had to say anything. It was simple with them.

With Aluk’un it was outspoken love. He took every chance to tell you how special you were. It was a more complex love with him, both platonic and romantic. He was your best friend, but also your lover. You wished to spend the rest of your life with him, but not in the same way as you did with your family.

Aluk’un was different from Zepii in many ways. He let you have independence, he allowed you to be your unbridled chaotic self. When you would discuss war plans with your father he would be right by your side, pointing out flaws or agreeing when you would put out a plan.

He didn’t try to tame you.

Much like you he was wild and chased the rush of adrenaline.

A rush of adrenaline was something you needed right now, and Aluk’un could tell that as he laid his eyes on you, “Hey, yawne. Do you want to play a game?” He was giving you an outlet for your negative energy, an option for something fun.

You couldn’t help as the hatred that had been on your face melted off as he spoke to you, “I would love to.” You sighed, “What do you have in mind?”

“I am going to chase and you are going to…” he started circling you, “Run!” he shouted before lunging to grab at you, and you dodged pretty easily.

You took off running quickly after, sprinting away at top speed. Aluk’un was close behind you, but was far enough behind that he couldn't grab you. He was hot on your tail though, easily keeping up.

You dodged and weaved through trees, and once you couldn’t hear his footsteps behind you anymore you came to a stop, catching your breath. You knew he was somewhere near, you knew he was watching you.

You should feel scared, unnerved, being hunted like this. You felt like prey being watched by a predator, like you should still be running. You knew you should be running, but in some ways you wanted to be caught, you knew Aluk’un wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, and your capture would become a welcome embrace from him.

You zoned into your surroundings, your ears twitching in every direction that any slight noise came from, and your tail swished behind you as you focused on trying to locate Aluk’un.

Then you heard footsteps again, behind you this time, but before you could take off again strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around.

You laughed loudly, freely, “You win, I guess.”

Aluk’un hummed, “Mhm,” then he put you down and you turned to him. He had his hands behind his back, no doubt holding something, “I have something for you.”

You weren’t surprised, he gave you things all the time, but felt yourself melting at his sweet gesture. Your brain seemed to be melting whenever you were around him, but you managed to mutter out, “What is it?”

He held it out to you, a beautiful necklace. It was a choker, a thick band of leather with an intricate carved piece of wood centered in the middle. It was more beautiful than anything you had seen before, and you could feel love oozing from it.

Aluk’un smiled sheepishly, “I noticed you still wear the necklace Zepii made you, so I thought I would make you one myself.”

You couldn’t help it as you smiled wider, “It’s beautiful! Thank you.” you paused momentarily, thinking, would it be too intimate to ask him to put it on you? You decided it wasn’t, “Will you put it on me?”

“Of course, yawne.” He smiled, holding it out.

You turned around and he placed it around your neck, tying it carefully to make sure it wasn’t too tight, but laid where it was supposed to. You placed your hand over it, tracing your fingers over the wood pattern, feeling how smooth he had gotten it.

“Thank you, again.” You looked anywhere from him, feeling overwhelmed by the love. It was starting to get dark outside now, “We should be getting home, it's getting dark…” you suggested.

He frowned, and you felt your heart squeeze, but he spoke with boldness, “No, please stay with me. Let’s stargaze.”

You sighed, you would always say yes to him, you could never say no, “Okay.”

So you laid down, Aluk’un by your side. He scooted closer to you, and you took that as an invitation to touch him, laying your head on his chest, looking up to the sky. Now it was dark, the calmness of night time blanketed over you and the land around you.

Everyone knew you were an alien, because your father was one, but Aluk’un didn’t seem to care, and so you shared, “My dad came from a star. That one.” You pointed to where Earth sat in the sky.

You felt Aluk’un’s chest rumble as he hummed, “I know lots about the stars, but nothing about that one.”

You chuckled, “Good, it’s where the Sky People are from.”

He didn’t speak more, instead simply existing with you. You looked up, looking at him and truly seeing him for the first time.

His aysnatanhì shone as brightly as the ones in the sky, and you wondered if you shined that bright. You felt that bright, like a light was bursting from within you. You felt warm and happy. You felt more peaceful than ever before, like the chaos inside you was subsiding, although only for a short amount of time.

He’s the best. Aluk’un was the best. Instead of dimming your light he glowed right by you, fed your fire and fanned your flame. He allowed you to shine and basked in the light you gave off.

He allowed you the freedom you needed and when you spread your wings and took off he didn’t hold you back. He didn’t try to tame you, domesticate you into something you weren’t.

Something you weren’t was an obedient follower, what you had become with Zepii. You had allowed him to manipulate you and push you around, forcing you to have no independence.

Something you were was free, even with the love of Aluk’un he let you be free. He allowed you to soar above the clouds like an ikran. Up you flew, towards bigger and better things, but when you were getting too close to the sun he would be there to catch you as you fell.

He loved you, truly loved you.

Word Bank:

Yawne (Darling)

Aysnatanhì (Constellation, Na’vi’s Bioluminescent Freckles)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

[mathanlin]

Fae/Foster AU where Fae aren’t trusted to speak for fear of making deals — and so each foster family is given the Fae’s name to immediately mute them. Like Tommy, the unwanted Changeling.

And yet the Watsons let him communicate.

By… writing on a cheap plastic whiteboard.

It’s an incredible gift. 

He’s practically giddy with joy, scrawling out words that someone *finally* listens to. And not just anyone — the kindest, sweetest people the world has to offer. 

And selfishly, Tommy wants more. 

“Thank you.”

He holds the whiteboard out to Phil after supper. He’s eaten their food & thanked them, gave them so much power. As if his name wasn’t enough. 

Phil… smiles. At *Tommy,* the inhuman, unwanted creature.

And that makes the silence worth it. 

Almost. 

Because it hurts. 

To not be able to laugh during meals. To not banter with Wilbur or ramble with Techno. (Even when they say, “You’re a great listener, Tommy.” 

Because that’s all he is.)

And to know that if he ever said, “I love you,” it would be accompanied by the acrid stench of the marker.

And silence. Always silence.

That’s what makes him desperate enough to try.

“Hey, mate.”

Phil turns around, halfway through a sink of dishes. His smile falters to a look of concern as he sees Tommy’s hunched, shaking frame.

And that concern evaporates as he sees the message scrawled on Tommy’s whiteboard.

“Can I have my voice back?”

Tommy’s stupid enough to hope.

That maybe a year with the Watsons was enough. That maybe he’d gained their trust through his quiet help & shaky smiles. By being *easy.*

But Phil’s face tightens, grip tightening on the silverware in his hand. 

They’re thinking the same thing, Tommy knows.

Fae are dangerous. It’s a good thing there’s iron everywhere — if worse came to worse, they could ward off Tommy with it.

(What Phil doesn’t know is that Tommy would let them. 

That he’d take the pain and rejection silently.)

“We need to talk.”

It’s not said to Tommy. It doesn’t involve him at all. Just Phil and his sons who he’s called to the living room, voice quiet as Tommy eavesdrops.

That doesn’t make the words any less gutwrenching. 

“You can’t let Tommy speak.”

The twins tense, but they… they don’t even argue.

Phil’s jaw tightens. “He tried to ask me. You two have his name, too, he’ll go after you next. We can’t risk anything.”

What isn’t said is, *He’s too dangerous to trust.*

But they all know it. 

Tommy somehow gets quieter.

Because horribly, it makes sense. The Watsons can’t risk their family falling into a dangerous Fae deal.

And even if they did give his voice back, he’d be different. Too loud, too bubbly, too desperate for their love.

So he cuts his losses.

“Just for one day.”

It’s Wilbur he approaches, months after Phil’s warning. The boy looks up at Tommy, his incredible, undeserved fondness masked by confusion.  

“One day for what?”

*To have my voice back,* is the true answer. 

But there’s more. So much more. *To say I love you. To call Phil Dad, just once. To call you and Techno my brothers. Just one day to speak, and all I’ll say is how much I love you.*

*I’ll be quiet after that.*

“To have my voice back.”

In the end, that’s all he writes. There’s not enough space to write out all those vulnerable truths, the stench of the marker making him dizzy.

And Wilbur’s face falls.

“Tommy.”

He sounds… doubtful. Tommy’s heart dares to rise, hands shaking as Wilbur stands, face drawn tight with grief, pain, and… guilt?

It only takes a second for that last emotion to make sense.

Because Wilbur snatches the whiteboard from his hands.

“You can’t be trusted with it.”

That’s Wilbur’s explanation as he stalks down the hallway, Tommy clinging to his side, mouth desperately forming muted apologies. 

And when Wilbur hands the whiteboard to Phil, those damning words still scrawled across it, Phil says the same.

That’s not the end of it.

The notebooks around the house are taken. So are any scraps of paper, loose pens, pencils, or markers.

And Phil, voice thick with grief, orders, “Tommy, don’t try to talk to us again.”

It didn’t have to be an order. Tommy would’ve listened.

But the end result is the same. Tommy stays silent, buried in his room, unable to even cry out. To ask for *anything,* let alone the chance to say, “I love you.”

And like this, he’s lost the chance to ever hear it, too. 

[velvetcloxds]

REMNANTS | E.M.

word count: 2.3k

warning: alternative series ending, no happy ending, thought we were done with this but if I can't talk about it with someone then I can write about it to someone- make this go away by making you the villain vibes except it’s scary factual

summary: you overhear a conversation between eddie and billy and realize your parents had good reason to try and keep you away from him.

previous parts: linger | fleeting | gone

You had a sickening pull to your stomach, the butterflies that lived there had turned to stone, heavy and rough, and it made you want to throw up. Your dad was right, as if that sentence alone wasn’t enough to make your guts jumble, it also made the next part even worse because he was right about Eddie being not only bad for you, but ultimately being on the wrong side of things altogether. Motives really do change, people really do change, but what if you just didn’t know Eddie’s motives from the beginning. When Billy Hargrove started working for the family your dad thought he’d be able to change him and bring out better in him, and for a while he did, for a while, he worked harder than he schemed. But still, he managed to change everything, nearly ruining the entire legacy your parents had created by allowing squatters to move into rooms and pocketing the money, sent out false communications in your dad’s name, selling private information to whoever paid him the most- it was unreal that someone so young, so immature could create such a scheme right under everyone’s noses.

Eddie wasn’t directly involved in any of it, but he knew, you didn’t know that he knew, and it should’ve made you run for the hills when you found out that he did. You should’ve, the second you saw Billy talking to him, the second he started getting a little too involved in the admin part of the job, you should’ve seen his helpfulness and eagerness for what it truly was- a search for an in and you very naively gave it to him by thinking with your heart and not your head.

Your mom decided to send you home, it wasn’t as busy, the work you had to do wasn’t stuck to the office and though she’d never tell your dad about it, your mom knew you were hurting a little at the idea that Eddie, in all his kind glory wasn’t truly who you thought he was. In the back of your head, you could clearly still see your Eddie, he was still all the things that made you blush just at the thought of him but there was a snippy voice in your head that wondered what about it was real, what about it was an act and what about it was just a ploy to distract you from what was happening. You wondered if he ever even wanted to be your friend, ever actually saw you, or if it was always just an endgame type of scenario, if he applied just enough sweet charm, you’d fold like paper, the boss’ naïve daughter who was so desperate for any form of care or love or attention she fell for it without a single bit of hesitation. You felt embarrassed, and stupid, like all those times your mom told you that guys would change your character was right, and that made you so cross too because you were sure you’d be different.

You were already having a horrendous day, fought with your mom, had to apologize for not cutting him off when you should’ve, when you realized you liked him, why you didn’t tell her and the truth was because you knew she’d reason with you, make you realize how selfish, how unlike yourself you were being. And how would you explain that, you’d not done anything wrong, innocent conversations, subtle musings that disguised his flirting, really it was just nice to be noticed, be seen and fussed over, you didn’t need to hide yourself, you could just be.  Now it felt like there was a magnifying glass aimed right at you, every move, every word, everything you’d done the last few months was now under question because you’d not seen Eddie for who he was. You wanted to walk it off and get some air before having to sit in a car with them to be taken home. It wasn’t like you’d run into any of them, not when they were in hiding somewhere discussing their plans.

When you’d found yourself in front of the empty room that used to be an office, that used to be where you and Eddie hid away to eat lunch, to breathe a little, you didn’t expect to find him there, didn’t expect to find him there with those type of people either, seems like you were still in the process of finding out just how much you misunderstood him.

“Oh get over it, so what if she’s ignoring you,” it was Billy’s voice, too arrogant all things considered, too loud considering he wasn’t allowed in the building in the first place, you peaked into the window and saw Eddie shrug, his face looked different, clouded by something-  secrets, just like theirs. “Never mind that, we’ve still got the floorplans, still know which rooms are open and when they’ll be filled,” he was smoking, flicked ash onto the carpet, and rubbed it into the material with the sole of his boot. “Besides, if she comes out saying anything to her parents, we have enough to put everything right back onto her,” that sickening feeling was back, it felt like it was trying to harden the whole of your body with it.

“I don’t know about that, man,” Eddie took a drag from the cigarette and shook his head, he looked unsure, but you couldn’t know, not now, you weren’t sure if you’d ever been able to read him in the first place. “She’s a sweet girl, I mean I know we used her for intel, know it was easy to get her on my side, but shit, I don’t know if it’s right to make this all out to be her fault when it goes wrong.”

“When?” Billy scoffed, a sound, much like his general existence that made you want to throw a chair at him just to silence it. “Eddie, we’ve been one step ahead of them since the beginning, by the chance they catch onto us we’ll be walking away with full pockets and not a single piece of evidence pointing to us.”

You somehow felt even more stupid when you expected Eddie to defend you, your family, he’d been working close enough to the lot of you to at least realize that this wasn’t okay, wasn’t right, definitely wasn’t legal, but it wasn’t how you treated people who cared for you, helped you.

“I think my pockets are full enough,” Eddie stood up, stuffed the cigarette in Billy’s hand, and kicked at the mark Billy left on the floor as if it could take it out now, you bit back a scoff, very typical. “I don’t want to be involved in this anymore, I didn’t think I’d care if I hurt them, thought people like them deserve it but-“

“But you like her? So what if you like her, do you think she’d care about you at all outside of this place, if she’d met you in the diner or the supermarket, she wouldn’t even have noticed you,” he wasn’t wrong, you hated to know he wasn’t wrong, but it meant you also wouldn’t have gotten hurt, it means you would’ve been right to stay as far away as possible. “Besides, she’d write you off in an instant if she knew what you’d been doing with me, that’s the whole point, we’re all caught up in it now, no getting out of it- we’re the ones with the power, we can take them all down with us.”

“You give yourself too much credit, Billy,” Eddie looked like he’d seen a ghost when you opened the office door to see them, he’d paled, and tried his best to hide his reaction but failed completely. “It’s going to take more than a little plan decided on over cigarettes and late-night beers to take down this business, we were surviving before you, and we’ll survive after you,” you couldn’t look at Eddie, took the cigarette from Billy’s hold and put it out on the plastic shades hanging on his shirt pocket. “Now, the sign with your picture on it by the gate is more than just a little suggestion- you’re not allowed on the premises.”

“Hasn’t stopped me before, has it,” he winked and shoved Eddie’s shoulder lightly before he made quite the scene of walking away from you. “See you soon,” he paused, scoffed at the way Eddie was looking at you, lips moving without any words. “Good luck, Eds.”

You waited for the door to shut, for his steps to echo on the stairs as he left, for your heart to start beating again, for your blood to stop boiling. When you finally looked up at the boy, you wished you hadn’t, he looked guilty, you didn’t need to know him to know that it was written all over his features, all over his movements- he moved to say something, you shook your head, he didn’t take note of it.

“I’m sorry,” it felt odd being on the receiving end of that phrase, when you used it the day before it had such a different meaning, and held such different emotions, he was guilty, he was doing something wrong and he was able to hide it from you for months now but with it all out in the open it was like he couldn’t hide from it either, he had to face it now. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Bite your tongue,” you had to be careful now, not too emotional, not too revealing, he wasn’t on your side, wasn’t one you could trust with yourself anymore, another person to sift with, another person to pretend with. “You don’t believe that- I most certainly don’t- I might not know you Eddie Munson, but you knew me enough to take part in this plan of yours so don’t you dare try and tell me you didn’t think this would hurt me.”

“It’s not that simple, okay, yes it started as an act, but I swear things started changing for me, you made this so difficult for me, I knew I should’ve kept going but I couldn’t stand seeing you actually like me knowing what I was doing.”

“I made it hard for you to hurt me?” you scoffed, your words might be calculated but the sound was very telling, you were fuming, you were devastated, how Eddie of all people could be the one to do this to you was madness, unbelievable- how he could be working hand in hand to hurt the business was a whole other thing, your entire livelihood was at stake because he wanted to score some extra cash this month. You shook your head. “I’m so confused, Eddie, honestly, I should be so upset with you but more than anything I’m literally so disappointed in you. You’re better than this, you’re better than him and his schemes- you had a shot here, you were proving yourself to my parents, you had a future here aside for me and you completely threw that away- you think they could trust you after this?”

“I didn’t think it through,” he pulled a hand through his hair, and pulled at his denim jacket, it seemed like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, with his body, he wanted to speak to you but you had a feeling he didn’t know where to even begin, even if he had, he knew you wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t accept anything from him after what you’d just heard. “I didn’t think it would go this far.”

“Neither did I,” he reached for you, and you stepped back, absolutely hated that, he did it again and you physically had to push his hand away. “Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

“Please, you don’t need to forgive me, but hear me out, let me explain, it won’t mean much but I swear there’s more to this than what you overheard,” you allowed his hand to brush against yours, closed your eyes for a second at the familiar feel of it, considered how you’d think about it for days on end even after all his done.

“Just leave, Eddie, take your cash, your people, leave before I have to tell my dad about all of this and he makes you leave,” you folded your arms around yourself, hated yourself more than you could fathom, how could you have fallen for this, how could you allow yourself to feel like this. “Please, this was cruel, it was unkind and unfair and I never for a second expected this of you so please just leave- please don’t let this linger.”

And he didn’t, he left, you shattered, felt the remnants of your trust in him fall to the floor, and you had no idea how to process this. It was never just a crush, it was never a crush in the first place, you were a pawn and they just took you right off the board.

[chososchalupa]

my brain is hungry but not for smut instead it wants angsts

can i request a oneshot (specifically for chuuya because i love him) about him being a single dad with a baby and his wife died or somethin and how he copes up and still tries to stay positive until the end despite the love of his life dead?

The idea of him being a single father is a thing i've been thinking about for a while now 🥺

ahh of course, i love a good sad moment. I was very excited to see this in my inbox so i wrote it asap

Forever was meant for memories, not for people

Content,, F!Reader x Chuuya, Death during childbirth, angst af, not proofread

WC- 673

A year ago today was supposed to be the happiest day of Chuuya’s life. He had sat in the hospital room beside you, looking back on the memories you shared together. The memories before you brought a sweet boy into this world.

~~~

Chuuya had come back from a mission late, dried blood covering his face and staining his white shirt. 

“Chuuya!” You smiled as he walked into your bedroom , “I have a gift for you!”

“A gift? For what?” He asked, looking through his closet for a change of clothes.

“Go change and come back!” 

He looked at you with a confused look, “okay…”

He quickly came back, showered and changed, and got in bed beside you. You gave him a quick kiss before giving him a small box.

He looked at you once more before opening the box, revealing a positive pregnancy test.

“Are you…You’re pregnant?!” He asked, eyes wide.

You nodded, tears filling your eyes.

Chuuya couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face, “This is the best news”, he whispered before kissing you deeply. 

Over the next few months, Chuuya and yourself spent all of your free time decorating the nursery, buying clothes, and just enjoying eachothers company before a new baby was brought into your lives.

~~~

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced

Chuuya jumped from his chair in the ultrasound room, “A boy!! Are you sure?!” 

The doctor chuckled and showed Chuuya the ultrasound. This was the happiest you’ve ever seen your husband. 

The last few months of the pregnancy, all Chuuya talked about was his excitement to have a little him.

“You’re going to be such a good dad” You smiled, looking over at your husband who was once again talking about how he could not wait for the birth of your sweet boy.

Chuuya placed his hand on your stomach, feeling the soft kicks press onto his hand, “And you're going to be the best mom. We’re going to be the best parents for him”

~~

Although, you would never be able to be a parent alongside him. This day a year ago was almost a blur for Chuuya. The two of you had been in the hospital for days due to some complications. Doctors were in and out of the room constantly, neither of you slept during those days. 

The time finally came for the baby to come but instead of a joyous moment, the doctor's faces showed nothing but fear. 

“We need to get her in surgery now or we will lose them both” was all Chuuya heard before you were taken away.

“Will they be okay?” He asked, his eyes filling with tears as he sat in the surgical waiting room.

Nobody had any answers. Chuuya sat for hours until a doctor came out, he shot from his chair but not out of excitement this time. 

“I’m sorry,” the doctor spoke. “We did everything we could. We were able to save him though”

The world went dark, the love of his life was gone. It all happened too fast, you were supposed to raise your baby together. Have a family and grow old and be together forever. Now none of that would happen. 

Chuuya had taken a few hours to calm down before walking in to meet his new son. Holding him gently and close, he looked down at the wide-eyed infant. “You look just like your mother,” he whispered, tears flowing down his cheeks.

~~

Throughout the year, Chuuya had learned to overcome a lot. He was grieving while also taking care of his new baby. Of course, he had help from the mafia. Everyone was more than happy to babysit while Chuuya left on missions or simply stay with Chuuya while he slept and showered. But nothing could make up for the emptiness in his chest. You were supposed to be here with him, watching your son say his first words and take his first steps. 

~~

Today was his first birthday. The Mafia and ADA joined together to throw a party for Chuuya’s precious boy.

“I am very proud of you, Chuuya. She would be too. You are a very good father” Mori stood alongside Chuuya, watching his son play with Kyouka and Koyo. 

Chuuya let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, boss? I don’t know how I’m managing without her. I wish she could’ve met him”

Mori let out a small sigh before patting Chuuya on the back, “She may not know him but he’ll know her. I’m sure of it”

Chuuya didn’t respond as Mori walked away.

Mori was right, he would know how beautiful his mother was, how selfless and kind she was. He will grow to love her despite never truly meeting her. You would always be together through his memories.

The past year had been one of the hardest Chuuya had ever experienced and though he wished you could’ve been there along with him, His heart was full watching his now one year old son laugh and play with his, what Chuuya would call, family.

[msbarrybeeson]

Before You Go - P.6 | Future Donatello & April O’Neil Insight

(Reader Included)

A/N: Any constructive criticism is appreciated. Reader comments and feedback are also welcomed a lot. 

I have been gone for a long time. Just occupied with my studies! No fan fiction author curse or anything (yet).

Summary: You’re both adopting-parents of Casey. The story follows the perspective of Donatello and April O’Neil during the Kraang apocalypse. You and Leonardo decided to ask them to watch over thirteen-year-old Casey.

In other words, familial interactions between April, Donnie, and Casey Jr.

Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns are used, except the terms “(Mom / Dad)” are also used. Second POV.

Pairing: Rise! Future! Leonardo X Reader

Warnings: Bittersweet.

Word Count:  ~3490

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / ...

~

Donnie knew how much of a genius he was.

It was no surprise after all. In his late teens, he improved NASA’s satellites to communicate with planets light centuries away. He cured breast cancer through the use of protons in radiation therapy to target specific cells, rather than affecting the harmless. Hell, he even managed to discover a new type of radioactive particles: mutons. By that point, he—.

“—should have been given a Nobel Prize in Medicine and in Chemistry.” Donnie cursed under his breath. He strolled over to his lab bench, equipping his goggles.

Squeeeak. 

April– who was found seated on Donnie’s roughed-up, spinning gaming chair– raised an eyebrow. Her hair had grown out and was left unbounded. Faint wrinkles and eye bags on her features displayed maturity, in contrast to a couple of years ago. However, everyone was well aware that time was not the only factor. 

“Whatcha going on about now, Donnie?”

The softshell huffed. “Recall when I wrote a report about my experimental findings with an invention meant to revive a deceased human being?”

“...You mean the one where you thought it was a good idea to open up Curie’s tomb? Even gone as far as to ask for my help?” April grimaced. “Who’d ever forget that.”

She proceeded to massage her temples. 

“God. You were in all kinds of messed up for that, Don.”

Lightning-like yellow sparks flickered as Donnie had his robotic hands occupied with a butane torch. His goggles were sealed tight around his eyes as he built a oval-looking device on his lab bench. Titanium outer-layer over a seriously complex circuit-board; appearing as if Samsung marketed grenades.

He scoffed. “Oh please. It wasn’t as if I’d taken long to understand how Marie Curie deserves her rest for her great contributions to radiation. Thus is why–.”

“–You decided to take a poor random husband of an old wife,” April interjected.

“Ahem.” Donnie pronounced. “The poor woman was begging me for her husband to be alive again. I was simply gracious and generous enough to not charge her for the process.” He set aside the butane torch. “At least it progressed well; he stayed alive for an additional two years. It gave his wife psychological comfort, and I was able to submit my paper to the N.S.F..” 

He picked up a screwdriver. “Except....” 

April could tell her friend’s eye was twitching. 

“They rejected my findings, nearly had me detained, and claimed it was far too ‘unethical.’” Donnie raised his volume. “Scoff! As if those researchers weren’t committing the crime themselves! Taking bodies away from families and claiming them as scientific property without permission.

If I could go back in time and shove my documents in their jaws, you bet I would.”

April smirked. “Well, I have my regrets too, Donnie.”

“You sound rather amused, April. Is that so surprising? And here I never thought you would regret your part-time job at Albearto’s. Or the fact you wasted money to switch to journalism in university.”

WHACK!

April threw her bat at Donnie’s head, flying back to her hand like a boomerang.

“Watch your mouth, mister. I may have regretted Albearto’s, but not a single moment in my life did I ever regret my journalism passion.” She stood up.

“Ouch.” The softshell vocalized, squinting his eyes toward her. His robotic clampers paused, setting aside the torch and taking off his goggles. 

“Mind yourself, April. Horse-playing is forbidden in the laboratory. I am not consenting to having yet another silver-titanium apparatus get scratched because of you.” Donnie gritted his teeth. “Can you hear the negative connotation?”

“Seriously, Donnie? Where’d that come from? Not only was that years ago but it ain’t anything except a simple accident.” 

“‘Simple accident?’” the softshell repeated with dramatic offense. “An accident, like many others in science labs, which could have caused severe damage! Remember the incident when your teacher dumped bleach and vinegar into the trash bin?

You know, if you had paid any attention in your chemistry class, those two would make mustard gas?” Donnie side-eyed his friend. “Simple accidents can have serious consequences, O’Neil.”

A hand crept up the lab bench.

“Uh-huh, and I’m supposed to believe an instance of me knocking over your phone and books would kill somebody?” April crossed her arms. “If anything, the blame’s yours for not organizing your desk when you got drunk on coffee.”

The hand took ahold of the butane torch.

“Donatello? Disorganized? Sounds cheap coming from you, a student majoring in Journalism.”

April pulled up her coat’s sleeves. “Oh boy, you’re about to get it—.”

Squeeeak!

Heads spun and found a 13-year old boy, replacing April’s spot on Donnie’s chair. Casey eyed the torch with a great yet concerning amount of curiosity.

“Yo, what’s this for, Uncle Don?”

At lightning speed, while April ran to move the gaming chair away further from the workbench, Donnie snatched the tool from his hands. “Child. Casey. Young man.” The softshell heaved loudly. “I must inform you this is NOT meant to be handled with such casual ease. How in Hawking did you even—.”

“Don’t your lab have a passcode or something?” 

“–Is what I am wondering myself, O’Neil. I refuse to believe this child remembers the beginning thirty numbers of π–.”

“Nope, only us.” April and Donnie lifted their gazes to his lab entrance. You leaned on the frame while a dear red-eared slider stood just behind. A couple of steps inside, and the metallic lab door shut close. 

Donnie– strangely– was quick to hide his device-in-progress off to the side.

“You’re back!” April grinned. “Hell, you would not believe the convo Donnie and I were having a minute ago.” She hurried to hug you.

“Figures,” Leo remarked. “We could practically hear you yards off.”

“Sounds like things never get old.” You smiled.

There was a side-eye between Donnie and April, before the Commander proceeded to inquire, coughing: “Anyhow.. care to explain the occasion? You two don’t seem to be in a hurry.”

“The only times you ever visit my laboratory are to prepare for immediate combat engagement, and you look awfully collected.” The softshell furrowed his brows.

“No, no.” You waved your hands, shaking your head. “Thank God no. We came here to ask if you two could take care of our Casey here while we head out.” The other turtle scrunched his in-quote eyebrows. “You— You came here to request us to... babysit him?”

April jabbed him in his plastron.

“You see? Just like I said.” Leo turned to you. “I know my brother, love. Don’s not the kind of guy to take responsibility for a kid. Or anyone, really.”

“Hold on.” Donnie narrowed his eyes. “I never said I refused, Leo.”

“Don’t know, it sounds like it to me.”

“Well, my misinformed brother, contrary to your belief, I am perfectly capable of handling a child.”

You huffed with amusement. Your husband only winked back.

“If you say so, Don.”

“Where are you two heading off for if you needed us to watch over him?” April inquired. “Wondering, ‘cause this never happened even when you two leave for patrol.”

“Just finding some time for ourselves.”

April exclaimed, “As in a honeymoon? Why not just say so? We’ll leave you two alone–.”

“–In this economy and climate?” Donnie interjected. “Has it also not been six years since your yet-to-be-legal marriage?”

“Alright, alright,” Leonardo chuckled. “Cut us some slack, bro. Finding time wasn’t easy when there’s Kraang above our necks.”

“Right, and you’re going on a honeymoon, how?” The softshell crossed his arms. “Simply because you’re the leader does not equate to you making wise decisions, Leo.”

“His ōdachi can teleport anyone to anyplace, we have some hope we can easily teleport to a remote area,” you answered. “One without Kraang infestation. It’ll be hard, but we may as well try.”

“Bonus points if we find clear skies and an ocean.” The red-eared turtle grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulders.

“What’s a honeymoon, (Mom / Dad)?”

Your hand went to caress Casey’s cheek. “Parent quality time. It just means you get to handle yourself like the responsible grown-up you’ll become one day. Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior around Uncle Don and Auntie April?”

“I promise, (Mom / Dad)!”

“Good boy,” Leo laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“You didn’t ask Mikey and Raph to help out too, or?”

“Between you and me, I think you guys are better of making sure Casey doesn’t get into any chaos,” you whispered to April. “Don’t tell them that, though.”

She laughed. “Okay, I see how it is. You both have fun.” 

Donnie bit his lip. Right as Leonardo and (Name) turn to exit the laboratory, he extended his arm out to them.

“Leo, (Name).”

You two faced back to him once more.

“Don’t kill yourselves out there.”

Everyone’s eyes widened– April, you, and Leonardo himself. But the brother in blue snickered, holding a smile that reached his eyes. “So you do also care for me, Don. And all this time I thought you were plotting to put me in my grave or something.”

“We won’t.” Leo placed a hand on your shoulder. “You got my word.”

“Bye (Mom / Dad)! Bye Papa!”

“We’ll be back soon, Casey!”

Donnie stood in silence as you finally left, leaving himself with none other than his best friend and his nephew. “I refuse to believe this is the future we have to deal with.”

“Times changed all of us, didn’t they?” April spoke. “One day we wish each other a good one, and the next, we hope we just don’t die. I could’ve been a famous news anchor by now, make my mother happy, fight crime without worrying about dying the next second.

..I wonder if there’s anyone else out there besides the small number of us down here.”

“..I doubt it.”

Donnie pulled himself together and walked back to his workbench, operating his clampers to work once again. He put on his goggles. Casey, being a young teenager of enthusiasm, peeked over.

“Watch yourself, boy,” April warned.

“Don’t worry about me, Auntie. I’m only standing over here.” Casey narrowed his eyes upon the glowing and metal-like ball his uncle had his tools on. “What are you working on, Uncle Don?”

“A sphere.”

“A sphere?”

“You heard correctly.”

“That sounds kind of boring.”

Donnie had to hold himself back from remarking with: ‘That is exactly what every child whose intellect is doomed would say.’

“I’m sure your mother would find it rather moving.”

“(Mom / Dad)? I don’t understand what’s emotional about a ball, though.”

“Hey Casey.” April coughed. “Why not tell us about your mask here? Haven’t taken a good look at it before. Maybe Uncle Don would like to hear it too.”

“You actually want me to talk about my mask?”

“Ain’t a problem, is it?”

“No.” He fidgeted with his fingers a bit. “You don’t have anything else to do?”

“We were just told to watch over you, kid.”

“Yeah, but everyone I know is always busy with the Kraang or supplying weapons. I never really get chances to hang out.”

There was a brief pause in the butane torch’s flame.

April’s expression softened. Her hand came up to brush his black hair. “Things have gotten calmer up there. So you’ve got plenty of time with us now.”

Casey smiled.

“So your mask?” 

The boy alternated between covering his face and removing it. “(Mom / Dad) gave it to me. She told me it is based on the one worn by my biological mother. (Mom / Dad) also said that my birth mother was kind of crazy-funny and likes to be loud. She would have a stick to play– what was it– hockey?

I don’t know what kind of game hockey is supposed to be, but I guess it’s nice to know how life was like before all the Kraang.”

A sad smile crept on April’s lips. 

“Anyways, I thought the mask looked kind of plain, so I decided to draw red marks on it. See?” Casey showed his mask off, fingers tapping the surface. “Guess who it looks like!”

There were two bold and thick streaks of red. Each one ran through one eye, truly a defining characteristic. The Commander chuckled, already imagining how much pride her friend in blue would feel from the fact a kid– let alone one he had been parenting– looked up to him so much.

“You know, I am seeing someone familiar here.” April hummed as she put on a thoughtful facade. Fingers holding her chin and everything. “Got to be Uncle Don.”

Named turtle paused for a moment and raised a brow.

“Seriously, Auntie April?” On the other hand, Casey gave her an incredulous look and shook his head. “You probably want to get your eyes checked out, ‘cause Uncle Don doesn’t have any red stripes.” Off to the side. “And even if he did, he won’t look as cool as Dad.”

April snickered behind her palm as Donnie eyed the boy from behind his goggles.

“You’re right, you’re right. Just messing with you, kid.” Her hand ruffled his hair once more. “Sounds like you really admire your Papa, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Dad has an awesome sword that opens up portals. He always moves so quickly whenever he’s fighting. Bam! And the Kraang’s gone!” The teenager stretched his arm for emphasis. “Even as the leader, Papa knows when to get serious and when to make people laugh. He also cares a lot about me, (Mom / Dad), you guys, and everyone!”

It made even Donnie himself smile. 

However, the way Casey’s enthusiasm died down had not gone unnoticed. “I’ve always wanted to help out though.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I want to fight the Kraang right by his and (Mom / Dad)’s side. Except I barely get the chance to, because they keep telling me to stay close to base and hide behind a giant rock.”

April crossed her arms and went quiet. His feelings were nothing new. In fact, she experienced the same thing herself, seeing she had always been a human. It was like that until–.

“Have no hard feelings,” Donnie spoke up, his hands and eyes remained on his spheric gadget. The sparks were flying. “Your parents are merely worried about your well-being.”

“I know, I know. They won’t have to though, if I can have enough training or something.” Casey sighed. “Then again, I also know I’m only a normal sensitive human.

...Why can’t I be a mutant instead?”

“Ahem. You are classified as a human. That is a true statement and one you cannot change.” Donnie hummed. “However, that does not mean you cannot be strong and capable in other ways.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve been in my place before?”

“Perhaps I did. Did you truly think being a soft-shell turtle is easy? I happened to be born as one of the only Testudines species whose outer shell cannot protect.” Donnie remarked. “Casey, your mask.” His hand signaled.

“What about my mask?”

“I merely want to add something.”

Confused, he hopped off the chair and handed the mask over. “Hmm. As long as you don’t mess with the stripes, Uncle Don.”

“Who says I won’t?”

Casey kicked Donnie’s leg.

“‘Ow,’ I say sarcastically without feeling physical pain.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

“Such as?”

“You say those action verbs, even when you’re already doing them.”

April snorted. “Just his thing, kid. Uncle Don’s got his special quirks.”

“Do you have a quirk?”

“Picking unnecessary fights for one,” Donnie commented.

“You only call them ‘unnecessary,’ because you never want to fix the problem.”

He rolled his eyes. “My solution would’ve been ten times more efficient if you had allowed my technology and I to do the work.”

Casey wondered. “Does your tech ever go haywire, Uncle Don?”

“No.”

“Oh man,” April began, “you should’ve been there for this one time. Your Uncle Don was building some kind of overprotective bed to keep your late Gramps from waking up from his beauty sleep.”

“Gramps likes to sleep?”

“You’d be surprised to hear that he sure does.”

“Then what happened?”

“Uncle Don asked your Dad, Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Raph to try punching, slicing, throwing whatever they could on the bed. They were attacking it like crazy!”

“And then?” 

“And the bed was even more insane, ‘cause there were actual missiles shooting out! They went straight for his brothers. At some point, it got overboard, so Uncle Don tried to command it to stop.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But it malfunctioned and thought Uncle Don was the enemy!”

“However!” Donnie pointed his finger up, interrupting the story-telling. “It did not take long for my creation to recognize his master.”

“Still went haywire in my book,” April remarked. 

“Ignoring that.” His robotic hand tapped the edge of his workbench, grabbing Casey’s attention. “Come here, young man.” He slid back the mask, except in his hands, it felt as if the frame had thicken.

“It looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same?”

“Try wearing it over your face.”

The boy did as told. All of a sudden, a bunch of green rectangles and words appeared in his vision. He gasped in awe. He spun around slowly, watching the rectangle focus on a figure through the wall.

“Yes yes, I know. I am well aware of how amazing I am.” Donnie huffed in pride. “I have opted to construct an interface with your mask. I cannot see why you shouldn’t have something to defend yourself with,” he reasoned. “I have other updates in mind later on. As of now, however, your mask will help you detect life forms across other rooms or through other objects.” 

“That’s so cool!” The boy hesitated though. “But I don’t want to break it or anything.”

“Hey.” April rested her hand on Casey’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “Our resources are already scarce. Using then losing them is better than nothing. You better make the most of our tech. Understood, soldier?”

Casey grinned underneath his mask. He fixed his posture up and saluted. “Gotcha–! Understood, Commander!” 

He faced the inventor, whose hands were already back to being occupied with the “sphere.” “Thanks so much, Uncle Don!” Casey exclaimed, leaping towards the turtle to give a tight hug. “You’re the best!” 

Upon contact, Donnie stiffened up, but his lack of experience with physical touch did not prevent a smile forming on his face. He extended a robotic arm, patting Casey’s back. 

The boy then scanned around curiously with his mask. “Hey! Think I spot Uncle Mikey and Uncle Raph two floors down! They’re holding hands over a table or something. Why are so many people circling around them?”

April rolled her eyes. “Sounds like another arm-wrestling match between the our youngest and oldest brother.” 

Just like that, Casey booked it out of the laboratory so quickly, it reminded her of a certain red-eared slider. “What the–! Casey!” April groaned. “And here I thought we don’t have to deal with runaway kids. I better catch up to him.” 

“Would not worry about him too much,” Donnie commented. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Considering we will not always be alive to protect him... the sooner we leave him to himself, the easier it will be for him to survive alone.” 

“Hey. Come on now.” April walked to her best friend’s side. “Don’t you say things like that. We’re all going to survive this together–.”

“April.” Slight pain wavered in his voice. “You know as well as I do how our current reality is. It is only a matter of time before the Kraang finds everyone.” 

“Yet you’re still here trying.”

No response.

“It’s all because of the kid, isn’t it?” April affirmed. “He ain’t any genius prodigy you were expecting long ago. But he gave you a reason to try– he became someone worth fighting for.”

“I would not put it as simply as that.”

She shrugged. “That’s how I’d say it. You know you’re not the only one whose life changed because of Casey.”

Donnie paused his work, turning off the butane torch and finally pulling his goggles off his eyes again. “...Casey reminds me of when we were young, being rash and immature teenagers like any other. I hate admitting to such thing, but I was one too. And I hate admitting much more how much I missed those times.

The child has known nothing of the trouble we’ve experienced outside, April: when Cassandra was killed, when Draxum was torn apart, when Dad decided to sacrifice himself despite the slim odds.” His hands clenched into fists.

“Do not expect me to have any false hope for our future, but do not assume I would want Casey to feel the same way. For as long as he can, I want him to hold onto that false hope.”

“...” April had her arms crossed. Her eyes slowly came to linger on the workbench. “Is that ‘sphere’ his false hope?”

“..No. Not his.” Donnie traced his thumb over his contraption. “It’s for (Name).”

[chericherixo]

Could you do like a fluff fic about Mattheo bugging y/n during class? But like he's just being silly goofy and eventually y/n humours him once they're given time to work. Thank you!!

Ofc!! I love that thank you :) I kind of got carried away so I'll probably write a sequel, and I'm sorry if Mattheo isn't as edgy as he usually is but hope you like it!

Danish [fluff]

- Classmates/Acquaintances - Reader's house not mentioned --Read the Request Above!--

It was your first class of the day, and you were already feeling your lack of sleep from the night before. You trudged to your seat and set your books down on the corner of the table. The only good thing that you could see was Mattheo's absence.

You felt relived as you bent over to grab a pencil from your bag. When you sat back up though, Mattheo was sitting annoyingly close, with a stupid smirk on his face.

"Dammit! When did you get here?" You yelped, startled.

"I just sat down, were you worried about me?"

"Never." You said disgusted and turned your attention to the front of the room as the professor walked in. He started talking about transfigurations, but try as you might to focus, you couldn't help but notice Mattheo's shameless stare towards you.

You snapped your head to look at him, "Can you stop fucking staring at me? Is there something wrong?" You whispered harshly,

"Sorry." He said but didn't turn his gaze away. You scoffed and shifted in your seat uncomfortably. After a few moments, he whispered in your ear.

"What'd you have for breakfast? Because I tried those new danishes and they were- amazing." He practically moaned in your ear.

"Oh my god Mattheo- why did you do that?"

"What? They were really good." He sat back in his chair with a hurt expression on his face. You rolled your eyes as he made another comment, "So? What did you have for breakfast?"

"Um- nothing. I kind of lost track of time before class, I'll get something later." He was silent for a moment.

"I have danish left; it's all wrapped nicely and everything. Do you want it?"

"Knowing you, you probably put a love potion in it, with how much you seem to want my attention."

He scoffed, "I'm offering you the last of my stash of the most delicious pastry I've ever had the pleasure of tasting, and you still treat me like this?" He covered his mouth with his hand and pretended to cry.

"Would you shut up- we'll get in tr-"

"Miss l/n! Care to explain why you're disrupting my teaching so- loudly?"

"I'm sorry professor, it won't happen again." Your face flushed with embarrassment as Mattheo snickered to the right of you.

For the rest of the lesson, you stared directly at the front and ignored any attempt of Mattheo to distract you. After awhile, the professor gave the class time to work.

He stared down at the desk, "I don't know why I'm in this class, I mean- you're way smarter than me. I guess because my dad expects me to be the top of my class. As soon as he finds out my grade is slipping- he'll probably pull me out." Your face turned concerned at his sudden confession. "I'm sorry for getting you in trouble, it's not your fault I can't focus."

"Thanks.. it's okay. Maybe I'll try a danish tomorrow, if they're as good as you say."

"They are!" As Mattheo was about to say something, the teacher passed back the tests you had taken the week before. Yours landed on the table showing a solid A+, whereas Mattheo's was covered in red ink and marked with a D-. He cringed at the sight of his grade.

"I mean- you didn't fail?" He scoffed,

"Anything below an A is failing for my father." Then, his eyes widened, "What if tutored me?" He said suddenly,

"Would you even listen?" You said, yet not totally shutting down the idea.

"Yes, yes I would. Especially if it's you- I don't know why, but I can actually focus on what you're saying. So, please?"

"..Ok. But if your grade doesn't improve, I don't want to waste my time."

"I'll pay you- I know you're busy."

"I- ok." You agreed to Mattheo's proposal. 'Why am I agreeing to this? Maybe it's because, whether I'd like to admit it or not, he's stupidly charming.' You thought.

The bell rang and Mattheo gathered his things, "I'll see tomorrow?"

"Yea, sounds good." You smiled softly, "Library?"

"Mhm." I waved and walked out of the classroom, leaving you with a blush and a smile that you couldn't wipe of your face.

(pt 2??)

[crazyunsexycool]

Hear me out.

Steebie and Lottie spending a whole weekend together, then Steve has do a mission debrief. Which he does .. accidentally in toddler language. 👀

Then our favourite little tornado suddenly pops up at the debrief and now the team being debriefed is talking toddler language about an important mission. 😂

😂😂😂 hahahahahahahahahahaha it’s like that whole scene in AOU where Steve says Language…

Toddler talk

“Woah those are big emotions.” Steve said absentmindedly after Clint got pissed off in the debrief and started yelling. “But let’s use our inside voices.”

The conference room went eerily quiet as everyone looked from each other to Steve.

“What did you just say?” Clint asked in pure disbelief.

“Oh no.” Steve’s shoulders sag and cheeks go pink as he realizes what he’s said and what’s going to happen. Just as quickly as everyone shut up they start laughing.

The door flies open and in walks in the reason Steve was still stuck in what everyone called toddler talk.

“Dada!” Lottie runs around the table until she gets to Bucky and jumps in his arm. She peppers kisses on his cheeks before she moves on to you.

After Lottie is settled in your arms everyone is looking up expectantly at Steve to continue to meeting.

“Um ok. Let’s see, did anyone face hyd- any bad men?” Steve’s eyes go from his report to Lottie who gasped.

“Yes there were about 50 bad men.”

“Is this many?” Lottie lifts her hand with all five fingers stretched out.

“More than that.”

“Woah.”

“I know.”

“Does anyone have any owies that need to be reported?” Steve asked, not bothering to talk as he normally would.

“Just some scratches. Y/N fixed is up on the jet though.”

“Mama make owies go bye bye?”

“She did. Look she even gave me a falcon bandaid.” Sam lifts up his arm.

“So cute.”

“What about weap- toys?”

“All toys were taken away and catalogued and the bad guys are being put in time out as we speak.”

Charlotte looked up at her dad with wide eyes and parted lips. Time out was the worst thing she’s ever heard about, fortunately she’s never been subjected to such horror.

The debrief lasts only a few more minutes but during that time everyone continues to talk code. Eventually everyone gets up and starts leaving. Steve is typing away on a tablet when he feels a little tap on his arm.

“Did good job Steebie.” Lottie presents him with a gold star sticker. When he looks up you’re standing there with a grin on your face.

Steve rolls his eyes but accepts the star anyways.

“Thank you sweetheart.”

Lottie runs back to you so that you can pick her up.

“Thanks for watching them this weekend.”

“You know I don’t mind. I love those kids.”

“Now That’s a big emotion.” You tease.

“Stop being a poo poo head.”

Lottie gasps. “Steebie say bad word. Steebie time out mama?”

“He’s definitely going on time out.”

“No time out, pwease. Steebie good.” Lottie pouts as she pleads her case for her favorite person.

“Fine but just this one time. But no dessert after dinner.”

Steve gets up and starts walking along side you as he chuckles.

“Is Kay. Habe dessewt befowe dinnuh.”

“Good idea Lottie. You are so smart.”

“I hope you stay stuck talking like this.” You mutter and Steve laughs.

“It’s fine as long as I can still talk to my best girl.”

[fandomtherapy44]

Tommy x reader

I'm trying something new hope you enjoy!

==========================

Episode 1

POV (Y/n)

The smoke you could never really escape it. It would follow wherever you went and smack you in the face as soon you went outside. It being so thick from the factories and all the cigarettes that people would light twenty-four seven. The mud was slick and if you walked too fast you would find yourself face down in it. As a woman if you wanted a job there weren't a lot of options then being a nanny to the rich considered though not many people were rich here or to be a lady of the night and have to be humiliated just to make enough money to barely support yourself. Those are just some features of small heath that make living here Hell sometimes.

Luckily, I was one of the few women that got a job where that I could actually feel okay with it. That being a barmaid at the only good pub in my opinion in Small heath The Garrison. Harry being friends with my dad really helped me to get this job it’s not that Harry thought I couldn't handle Bar maiding it’s just he didn't want me to have to deal with all the fucking bastards that liked to get handsy when drunk and there were a lot of those here. But I was able to handle them just fine after I showed them my knife if they wanted to try again.

And then there are the Shelby’s the fucking Shelby’s or the Peaky Blinders. Our Local gang but they weren’t the typical gang. I mean they would beat a man an inch within his life, but they had a reason. And I use to be friends with all of them. I am still friendly with Polly and Ada. We sometimes get a drink to catch up. But Tommy Shelby I would have taken a bullet for, but it turns out he was holding the gun.

==========

“Hello Harry, how was the morning?” I placed down my things and looked at the man. “Uh you know our typical local drunks, but I did get a surprise this morning.” “Ohh please tell me it wasn't old man withers wanting to show his family jewels again.” I shuddered. “No no thankfully it was pleasant. It was a woman wanting a job around your age I think.” I was a little surprised. “Really and you gave it to her?” “Yeah, she seemed desperate so I was wondering if you could show her the ropes while I get some rest?” “Yes of course.” “Great thank you Y/n. She will be here shortly.”

I'm wiping down the counter when a blond slime pretty women walked in. “Hello, I'm looking for a Y/n Brown.” She had one of the most charming Irish sounding accents I had ever heard. “That would be me.” I put down my torn-up rag and held out my hand for her to shake it. “My name's grace.” “Well Grace welcome to small heath and in par the Garrison let me show you around.” 

“Well, that includes the tour any questions?” “Ahh just one who are the peaky blinders?” “I'm surprised you already known of them.” I leaned against the bar in intrigue. “I've heard whispers around and I just want to know who I'm serving here you know.” I breathed in deeply thinking about the family in question. “The Peaky Blinders are a group who don’t conduct not the typical business if you know what I mean.” “So, a gang.” “Yes, but you don’t have to be sacred they don’t hurt someone unless they have too, I mean they're a bunch of ares's but they are just people at the end of the day.” She was now intrigue with how I spoke. “You speak of if you know them.” “I do. Now.” I brought out some glasses and a bottle of amber filled liquid. “Whiskey.” “You're going to need it if you're going to work here.” I downed my glass like it was water and I just finished a race.

I let grace go home early sense there weren't that many people left. It was closing time, and a knock was heard on the doors. “Hello Ada.” I opened the door and there stood one of my last Shelby friends. “There any whiskey left from the night.” She quickly passed me to the bar seats. “I saved one just for you.” I poured a double. “So, I'm guessing from the state of you it was an amazing time with your mystery man.” That’s what I liked about being a barmaid not that I would ever share gossip but as soon as a person had more than one, they would open like a book and get so drunk that they would forget that you were the most trusted person for them for a couple of hours.

“It was, it always is.” She looked down in her glass wishing to dive in. “You know Ada who ever this man is he must be pretty special.” “He is.” “Well then why look so sad?” I wanted to know what was making my friend feel like this. “I can't tell anyone that were together not even you.” “Why?” “Because it’s dangerous.” “Well, if that's the reason then I'm okay not knowing just don't let it be a secret to long, okay?” I smiled and clanged our glasses together in friendship and secrets.

================

I came in early the next day I didn’t need to, but it was Saturday and there was football I didn’t want Grace deal with all that on her first day. “Hello Grace, Harry.” I put my apron on. “Y/n I thought you didn't work till later.” “Well Grace you are going to need all the help you can get today.” About an hour later the Garrison was filled to the brim with men who wanted a little luck for their bets they did. “Told ya.” I yelled out over the rowdy voices that clambering to get attention. But over all that I still hear the tapping from the window that was part of the Shelby’s private room. Grace went to answer it, but I stopped her.

“Wait grace why don’t I do that now so it’s easier for you in the future.” She nods timely in agreement. Harry looked nervous as well. I whipped the windows open without even thinking who it could be, and I was faced with the man who broke my heart. We both started for a moment before Tommy remembered his words. “I need a bottle of Rum.” He places coins on the bar even though he didn't need to. “Of course, Mr. Shelby which kind.” I was trying so hard to keep it professional.

“I don’t care.” Of course, he didn’t as long he could stupidly get drunk with his brothers. I grabbed our cheapest bottle of rum and gave it to him and then he turned to Grace. “Are you a whore?” If I had water, I would do a spit take. She didn’t know how to answer that. “Because if you’re not, you’re in the wrong place.” He took his bottle and left. She turned to me. “He’s one of the ones you told me about.” I only nodded. “Grace, you’re a friendly girl but be careful. If I say ‘on the house’ say nothing to whoever you’re serving. If they decide they want, you there’s nothing anybody could do about it.” Harry swigged a beer after that and went to attend to others. “Grace Tommy’s not like that he’s just not.” I felt some tears welling up, but I would not let them come out because I refused to cry over that man ever again.

==========

When I got home later all I wanted to do was crawl into bed but of course I couldn't. “Mom mom wake up.” I gently nudged her. “Mhhh Oliver I don’t want to.” Oliver my father’s name. “Come on mom let’s get to bed.” I helped her up from the table and led her upstairs. I set her up and went to my own bed where a photo of my Father hung. “Hi dad I hope I made you proud today.” I finger kissed the picture and layed down while my interaction with Tommy played on a loop.

================

The next day at work was a little better. Grace was singing for all of the drunk lovesick men which I did not know we were doing now. One of the men who I had known for a while suggested that I join her. “Oh, I don’t know.” I really only sang for someone I don't talk to anymore. “Come on, I remember you singing like an angel in church.” Other men decided to chime in. “Yeah!” “Come on Y/n.” “OK ok.” “I got up on the table and I felt as if there were a million eyes on me. “Alright Y/n you know the song well enough?” I shook my head.

“Let's go from three One... two… Three The boy I love is up in the gallery....” I sang out and closed my eyes and I remembered all the times I would sing for the Shelby’s on our weekly family nights but especially Tommy. I was so lost in the moment that I didn’t notice that the men and Grace had stopped singing with me. “As pretty as a robin. As gentle as a dove.” “We haven’t had singing in here since the war.” Harry said with a little fear that I was confused so I opened my eyes, and it was two of the Shelby brothers there, John and more importantly Tommy. Tommy did not look happy as he stared at me. “Why do you think that is?” He storms into the private room with his brother and slams the door.

====================== The night was cold like the kind of cold that almost had a kind of charm to grab a warm drink with a friend or to cuddle next to a fire. I had gone outside to get some fresh air when I saw Tommy walking again, we had made eye contact this was most interaction I've had with him in a while. I heard about Danny one of Tommy’s best friends I wanted to run to him to be there for him, but I just couldn't. I didn't know if I ever could again. 

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So, this show is way different then a CW show so it's going to be interesting to say a least. But I'm excited to try a new show then in the CW universe Hope you enjoy see you in the next one. Also, if you like supernatural I have a Castiel x reader and the originals Klaus x reader.

[kit-kat-katie]

There Are No Victors, Only Survivors

A/N: First fic ever on here... I'm a little nervous, but excited to start a new chapter in my life! Let me know what you think of this! [ I also read the books 7 years ago and I'm almost done binge-watching the movies so don't burn me alive if I get the lore wrong :) ]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader (platonic or romantic)

Summary: After winning the games, you go on camera to discuss your win with Caesar. Footage of the games causes you to recall a painful memory, one you'd rather leave in that arena.

TW: Trauma from the games, large crowds, murder

The crowd screams your name as you enter the stage. Your ears still ring from the sound of canons, your mind is numb from the numerous deaths you witnessed and caused, and your lips are dry even though you had plenty to eat and drink before this.

Caesar kindly waves you over, and you stick a warm smile on your face as you head towards him.

"Our victor, everyone!"

The crowd goes wild, and you bow to absorb as much attention and positivity as you need. You're a possession of the Capital now, and any out-of-line move could end with 24 dead tributes instead of 23.

It's just an interview, just like before the games. Stay calm... you can do this.

"Now, there are many pressing questions that the people of Panam want to know... including myself," Caesar nudges your side, and you laugh as if it's the funniest joke you've ever heard, "but there is one question that is on all of our minds: who did you hear after the jabberjays were released?"

You pause, and the smile slips from your face for a moment before you notice a camera. You quickly recover with a small head shake.

"My mom and my dad, of course." You gracefully answer.

"Really? No special someone? You seemed too torn up after that bird followed you around for three whole days." He exaggerates, and the crowd has a mixed reaction to his question.

"I-" You pause as you hear footage play from the screen behind you.

The crushing of leaves and the pounding of your heart are the only rhythms that your ears hear. Your feet carry you along, but your mind is in a much different place.

The game makers, after deciding that their handmade hell wasn't enough torture, decided to send each contestant a jabberjay just to see what would happen.

The screams of your mother and father were the first, and you immediately jumped up from your hiding spot to find them. When you realized that the sound was coming from a bird, you tried to bury your head in the sand and continue along as if nothing was happening.

The cries of loved ones turned into the cries of your friends. The ones that you had trained with in District 4 before you had been reaped. Those kids, especially the younger ones, gave you the motivation to keep fighting.

You didn't sleep the first night, and the second night was interrupted by nightmares and cannons booming every other hour. You figured that the other tributes had gone mad and had taken their anger out of each other.

...Good thing you kept away from the pack and tried to survive on your own.

The third day, however, was your breaking point. The screams of your friends had died out, and you thought that damn bird had finally left you alone. You were a defenseless fool in that moment, especially when the scream perfectly matched Finnick's voice.

He was your mentor, your friend, and had been your rock when you were scared of being another victim of the games. Hearing his screams, his cries for help... it broke you behind anything that had happened to you so far.

You didn't hesitate to pick up a rock and strike the bird right between its eyes, killing it on the spot.

After that, you came crashing to the ground with tears in your eyes. You didn't eat or drink anything that day as your thoughts were consumed with worries of his safety.

When you looked up to the sky to see the tributes that were honored at night, you realized that there was only one left: a career from District 2.

You didn't have to do much, as she stumbled upon your camp later that night. You managed to gather yourself enough to grab a knife, but she didn't attack you.

The desperation, the fear, the anger inside of her eyes... but everything else about her was deflated and depressed. You were sure that you looked the same, if not worse.

She closes her eyes for a moment, and you say a small prayer before throwing the knife into her chest.

The last cannon went off, and your ears were buzzing as you were announced as the newest victor. Nothing seemed real anymore, for all you knew, everyone you had already cared about was dead and the jabberjays were just used to mock you.

After being airedlifted out of the arena, you were taken to the Capital, where Mags and Finnick were waiting for you. You nearly fell over when you took a step towards them.

"Easy there, honey. Don't want you hurting yourself before your big interview." Finnick catches your arm, and you softly thank him before taking Mags' hand.

"The jabberjays, they sounded like my parents and my friends and..." You pause as a few tears slip past your eyes, "and you two."

He pulls you into a warm hug as you bawl your eyes out, not only for the three lives you had to take inside of that arena but for the part of you that died in there as well.

"So, who is that someone that had you all choked up, huh?"

You blink for a beat as you pull yourself back into reality.

"My best friend - they're my everything, they've been my rock for so many years, and I'm so happy that I get to see them again."

The crowd eats up your answer like it's a five-course buffet as Caesar smiles at you.

"Well, I'm glad that they are part of the reason that we have such an amazing victor!" He takes your hand and raises it high, and the crowd in the Capitol grows louder.

Your body was there, and your innocence was destroyed in the arena, but your thoughts and feelings were settled on one special person.

Finnick.

[vaguely-yandere]

imagine girly yanderes,,,

girly yanderes who get away with much more than a regular yandere could because theyre just so friendly and cute. No one questions the sugary sweet, loveable popular person when people go missing. No one questions it when they see them dragging something big and heavy to the dump, in fact, they offer to help because a sweet young thing like them shouldn't be doing any heavy lifting!

girly yanderes who tremble a bit when they do your makeup because they can feel your breath on their face, tickling their peach fuzz, able to finally appreciate your beauty up close without looking weird, feeling barely able to breathe because your just so close, so trusting, so vulnerable, it makes them want to do horrible things. you're just so close, just one slip and they'd finally be able to feel your soft lips against theirs... (you have no idea what you do to me..)

girly yanderes who borrow your chapstick and instead of giving it back to you, they just hand you a replacement they bought weeks ago for this exact moment. (i got an exact replica of the one you gave me, just with a bit more of my DNA on it.) hyperventilating later at the indirect kisses being exchanged without your knowledge, replaying the image of your lips coming into contact with the chapstick they covered in kisses just. for. you.

girly yanderes who use their social status to ruin the lives of the people who even glance at you for a second too long. “I heard she has herpes.” “Doesn’t their dad always stare at girls?” “Well, I heard he fucked his cousin!” “I saw them following some kid home, next day they were covered in scratches. I wonder what happened...”  "I passed her during gym and she smelled like rotting, sweaty cheese.. I threw up after words!" "Just don't tell anyone I told you about this, okay? I'd hate for their reputation to get ruined.."

girly yanderes who listen to pop music, humming along while they scrub the blood off their jeans, makeup a little runny and smudged from the humidity and sweat of a fresh fight, muscles aching, fresh bruises and scratches all over their body. They silently relished in the idea of you frowning when you eventually saw the wounds and eventually taking care of them, those gentle hands of yours applying a bandaid on the scratches, gently kissing the bruises, hugging them to comfort them. They wouldn't even have to tell you the truth! You would fill in the blanks with some sob story and they wouldn't even have to say a word. (i don't enjoy making you worry, really, but it's hard to correct you when you keep looking at me like that...)

girly yanderes who lay in bed, legs swinging, giggling as they scribble your name over and over into a notebook with the pen you gave them when you first met. Pictures of you surround them, covering their walls, clothes you’ve lent them covering their pillows and stuffed animals, your favorite deodorant sitting on their dresser along with every small thing you’ve ‘gifted’ them. the toothbrush you used when you slept over, locks of your hair they took when you asked them to trim your hair, every single chapstick they’ve taken from you, socks, underwear, hair ties, notes, anything you wouldn’t miss too much. the underwear and socks were a low move but they were old and worn out and seeing your flushed face when you stepped out of the locker room, awkwardly adjusting yourself in your clothes, it was just so worth it. (you were so cute, so worried someone would notice you didn't have underwear on but don't worry. only you and i knew, i made sure of it.)

girly yanderes who can’t ever sleep when you sleep over, eyes wide and unblinking as they watch your stomach slowly rise and fall with each breath. they had put just a bit of melatonin in your last drink, had an entire crisis about it before you came over. ‘I won’t be able to have late night talks with them but I rarely get the opportunity to watch them sleep, see them so unguarded.. And I wouldn’t be a good future lover if I ruined their sleep schedule!’ In the end, they decided to ‘drug’ you later in the night, after a few rounds of truth or dare, never have I ever, a few movies and obviously a couple of emotional late night talks where you admitted to some of your deeper secrets and they admitted to having a massive crush on someone but refused to reveal on who. "You know who.."

girly yanderes who do cheerleading, developing durable, strong muscles and enough endurance to run down and cut the throat of the football player who winked at you, suffocate the nerd that flushed when you smiled at them, bash the head of another cheerleader who stupidly admitted to having a crush on you after a game. they only felt a little guilty because those poor people didn't understand what they were getting into when they fell for you but a warning had to be sent.

You belonged to someone else xoxo &lt;3