#This at one point was 1700 words long and i was like well maybe i should not do that

[rcubens]

Southern Hospitality

TASK 2— A Eulogy by Reuben Sharpe

So he had finally found a tie. Did it fit with his outfit? He wasn’t exactly sure and with the compounding weight of a White Russian hangover and an impending funeral, he couldn't care less. He was grateful that Angus had given him a heads up about the eulogy, he spent the entirety of his night restless staring at the ceiling of his second childhood bedroom trying to string a cohesive sentence together. Nothing sounded right, it was either too sappy, or too vindictive, or too guilt ridden. As Mrs. Tristan read out the order of proceedings to the small group he almost asked if he could be excused; the cue card in his jacket pocket burning a hole in his side.

Reuben wasn’t well versed in funerals— something he used to be grateful for but, currently regretted. The whole weekend had been an exercise in time-travel. The same rooms, the same halls, the same bickering and same ridiculous thing they called a family. And to Reuben it seemed as though nothing had changed. He wanted to remain there forever. Sell his DC condo, quit his job and just roll out of bed and into the kitchen where breakfast was already prepared. Walk around the grounds, drink the wine cellar dry, bother all of his siblings daily. In DC, he was an island— well, there was Angus but, still he was alone. A solo office, a one bedroom off Columbia, an only child.

Hyperaware of his own presence and looking to the other wards for guidance, like he was thirteen again. This time he walks through the cemetery without his mother by his side, but rather, in his breast pocket. He needed her strength today, thinking about her for the first time in a long time. Today, he might very well be orphaned. There are too many people here for his liking, people he doesn’t recognize. Rich philanthropists, local politicians and other old geezers that probably knew Richard back when his dad did. Red rimmed eyes dart around, maybe his aunt was here. Or perhaps she moved her practice back to Georgia, or maybe she was dead. Maybe Reuben was orphaned long before Richard left.

As he sat listening to the other eulogies, he’s fidgeting with his father’s cufflinks. The smooth gold beneath his fingers reminds him of his father. He’d know how to do this. How to wrap your venom in niceties, Southern hospitality or some bullshit. Before he knows it, someone is nudging him and motioning him to stand. Suddenly, his attention seeking efforts don’t feel so brave. It’s like that reoccurring dream you have when you’re walking down the hall of your high school stark naked and everyone’s laughing at you. His cheeks are hot, and he’s trying not cry, to not deceive these people into thinking he cares.

He stands at the pulpit, hands gripping the sides so tightly his knuckles are white. He can’t look out at this crowd and say the things he wants to say. He looks down at the worn wood as he slips his notes out of his pocket. Looking up for a beat through blond curls at Mrs. Tristan, her face says Reuben is on very thin ice…or maybe that’s what mourning looks like on someone who did all the work and received none of the credit.

He stands a little taller and takes a deep breath. “For those of you who may not know me, I’m Reuben Sharpe— my father was Senator Benedict Sharpe and my mother is Evangeline Louise Marston Sharpe, and after the death of my father I was brought here to Woodrow House.” He pauses to chew the inside of his cheek, which is raw from all the nerves of the past 48 hours.

“Richard Woodrow was not a good father—” a wave of anxious energy floods every vein in his body. But no one rushes to silence him or chalks it up to Reuben just being Reuben. Fortunately for him, there’s a captive audience. “A good father loves unconditionally— there’s no favouritism for the smartest, or the ones who could charm the birds out the trees or the one’s that mirror those he’s lost. No, a good father is there for them all, not his money or the people he hires to stand in but, the man himself.”

While it feels like an opportune moment to cry, Reuben feels the absence of feeling at all. Like he was slowly floating upwards like a rogue balloon that escaped the hands of a small child.

“But I don’t blame Mr.Woodrow, he wanted to do the right thing— shit, we all do. It’s not like they write a manual on how to raise 16 kids at once. He did the best he could and delegated all the harder tasks to Mrs. Tristan, whom I don’t think likes me very much right now but that’s nothing new—” he smiles sheepishly, mostly to himself.

“I spoke to Mr.Woodrow last week and said some things I don’t exactly regret but ,would take back if I knew it was the last time I’d ever see him. If I got to speak to him one last time, I think I’d say something along the lines of: thank you for being the next best thing. You did your best, and now I think I understand.”

Whatever tension he’d been holding had rapidly dissipated. If he didn’t get horizontal quickly, he might pass out. He raps his notes against the pulpit before stepping down and walking out of the ceremony.

[roosterforme]

Why Not Forever? | Rooster x Reader x Hangman

Summary: The last night on the aircraft carrier should have been bittersweet as Bradley and Jake show you once again how good it feels to be shared by them. But you soon learn that the boys have plans for you beyond this deployment.

Warnings: Smut, anal, threesome, slight hangster, 18+

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake "Hangman" Seresin

This is a sequel to Why Not Both? and Why Not Again? But it can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley loved that fucked out, starry eyed look on your face as you rode him. You were babbling, barely able to focus, but your every movement was smooth and fluid. You were exactly what he needed. But he knew you'd never end up a begging, whining mess for him alone, and he was okay with that. After weeks of sharing you, maybe he even preferred it this way. 

Your pussy was warm and inviting around him as he palmed your tits and squeezed your nipples a little harder. Your body was slick with sweat, only some of it your own. But the best part was the way Bradley could feel Jake's cock shoved up your ass every time one of them thrusted. And he could see Jake behind you on the bed, squeezing your hips and kissing your neck.

"Look at her face, Hangman. She's so far gone." Bradley gently took your chin between his thumb and fingertips and turned your head, showing off your parted, swollen lips and barely focused eyes to the man behind you. "She's beautiful."

"Like an angel," Jake agreed, thrusting a little deeper, making you just that much tighter for Bradley. A long, needy whine filled the air as Jake whispered, "You never had it so good, did you?" You shook your head in a jerky motion, and Bradley watched Jake kiss away a bead of sweat that rolled down the side of your neck. 

You were exhausted, clenching softly around his cock when Bradley coaxed you to face him again. Then you muttered the first intelligible word that came from your lips in the last ten minutes. "Please." 

He knew you needed to come, and you'd been perfect for the two of them up until now. You had taken care of them before they flew their mission and again directly afterwards, and you'd been spending your nights in their bunk on the carrier ever since. It was to the point that Bradley didn't care who knew about it, and he was getting that distinct feeling from Jake as well.

Bradley leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your nipple, earning another, more intense squeeze from your pussy. When you tried to roll your hips faster, he shook his head  "You're close. Let us take care of you."

"Please," you repeated as both men filled you with sharp thrusts, leaving your head rolling back against Jake's shoulder. Bradley was entranced, the sight of your swollen clit brushing his neatly trimmed hair nearly sending him over the edge. He stroked your nipples and smiled as you tried to buck again, only to be stopped by Jake's hands on your hips.

"Easy, Angel," he drawled, and Bradley chuckled. "You'll get there soon enough. We just need a little more time with you first."

"If you didn't feel so fucking good, we'd have been done by now. But you have a way of making us want more and more," Bradley teased. Then he worked his tongue through his own mouth and watched the stream of saliva as he spit where you and he were connected. He ran his thumb through it and said, "But I think you just about earned it," as you whined. 

"Please!"

He rubbed your clit a little with his rough fingers, spitting again as Jake released your hips and focused on squeezing your tits from behind instead. "Yeah," he agreed. "She earned it. She always does."

The relief written on your face made Bradley grin as you looked down at him working his fingers in deliberate circles. When he kissed the valley between your breasts, he could taste the salt of your skin and feel Jake's fingers in his cheeks. "Never thought I'd be sorry to see the end of a deployment," he whispered, licking a stripe up to your collarbone. He nibbled on you as Jake grabbed at your breasts a little harder so you cried out. "Never had this much fun before."

Then you reached behind you with one hand and stroked Jake's cheek while you teased Bradley's hair with your other hand. He knew you loved the way they worshipped you. All the dirty glances and winks across the common areas really got him going, but they sent you straight to your knees as soon as you were in their bunk. And the thought occurred to Bradley that it would never be this good with anyone else. He knew there wasn't another woman who stood a chance.

"Fuck," Jake grunted, and Bradley could tell by the way your body was rocking that the man behind you was about come in your ass. "God damn it," he groaned, burying his face in your neck and whining. 

You were grinning now as you bounced on both of them, knowing Bradley would make sure you got what you needed. But he had to be certain you knew the price you were paying at this point to be allowed to come on their cocks. Bradley and Jake didn't do this with just anyone, and he needed to be sure you understood that. Be sure this wasn't the last time.

"How bad do you want it?" Bradley rasped, pinching your clit and ramming himself deep.

"So bad!" you cried out as Jake's movements became more erratic.

"Say it," Bradley demanded through gritted teeth, sweat beading on his forehead. "Tell me you belong to us. And not just for tonight." He was close now, but he kept rubbing you just right and coaxing you to keep your eyes on him. "We want you in San Diego too, Baby."

Jake's hands roamed the font of your body as he moaned against your skin, and Bradley watched your pupils grow wider as your thighs shook. Your pussy clenched around him as you managed to say, "I'm yours."

You came with Bradley, your lips meeting his as he fucked you all the way through your orgasm. Your kisses were sweet even as you were a cum filled mess for the two of them, and you let Bradley pull you down with him as he eased himself back onto the pillows to catch his breath.

"She's ours," he confirmed for Jake who was kissing your shoulder as you curled up on Bradley's chest. Then he pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "Our good girl."

Bradley could feel Jake's softening cock on his thigh as he came to rest against your back. You coaxed Jake closer and closer while you kissed Bradley, and then you shared your kisses with one man and then the other until the three of you were kissing. Bradley couldn't wait to get back to California.

------------------------------

You weren't sure what you were expecting when the guys both invited you over to Bradley's place a few days after the end of the deployment. The three of you had spent that last night all curled up in one bed together, sweat and cum and sweet, dirty talk everywhere. You shivered just thinking about the way it felt to be sandwiched between their strong bodies in every position imaginable. They made you feel sexy and safe.

You wanted more from them, but you hadn't dared to dream that it could continue here. That sharing you had become something they wanted as much as you did. You'd never be able to choose between Bradley's effortless allure and Jake's natural charisma. You wanted both, and you shivered with anticipation at seeing them here on dry land.

They'd never seen you in anything except your khaki uniforms and your most basic underwear, but something was telling you that tonight was going to be a little different. As you slowly made your way up the pathway from your car, you straightened your dress over your pretty lingerie. You wanted them to destroy all of it.

Almost immediately after you knocked, the front door swung open, and you were met with two pairs of eyes, green and brown, raking over your body like they'd been craving you for months. "Boys," you said smoothly as you squeezed between the two of them and into the living room. You couldn't help but add, "I missed you," as you spun around to face them with a smile. 

"You have no idea," Jake drawled, kicking the door shut and closing the distance to your lips. He kissed you, wrapping his hand gently around your neck as he said, "We got you a little something."

His smirk matched Bradley's as the other man pressed himself against your backside. "Something pretty for you to wear," he added, his voice a deep rumble. 

"What is it?" you asked, looking up at Jake as Bradley snaked one arm around your waist from behind. When he opened his hand in front of your chest, you looked down at his palm and saw a gold necklace with two charms that made you gasp. 

"You like it?" Bradley asked next to your ear, his mustache sending a ripple of need along your skin when he grazed you.

"Yes," you whispered, your body already clenching.

Jake looked at you eagerly as he asked, "Will you let me put it on you, Angel?"

"Please," you whined, knowing you sounded exactly like you had in their bunk on the aircraft carrier. You watched his fingertips glide along Bradley's palm, and then both of them were kissing you as he clasped the chain around your neck. The cool charms settled against your skin, and you let them lead you toward the bedroom.

You couldn't be sure who was talking to you and who was touching you in your blissed out state, but you could feel fingers tangle in your new necklace chain. You would have to strategically hide the charms that said Bradley and Jake underneath your uniform shirts when you were at work, because you weren't going to be taking your necklace off anytime soon.

-------------------------

Living the dream. We are living the damn dream. I had a lot of fun with this. Maybe there will be more of these three. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[winchesterszvonecek]

Big Hug Mug - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ]

Summary: You accidentally break Otis’s favourite mug and his reaction was not at all what you expected it to be

Word Count: 1700

Warnings: female!reader, fluff

Masterlist | Otis Masterlist

There was an unspoken rule within the walls of firehouse fifty-one. A rule that nobody dared break should they face the unbearable consequences, that were basically just Otis sulking for the remainder of shift, no matter what may have happened regardless.

Seriously, he could have won the lottery and yet he’d still sulk if anyone broke the rule.

You knew this rule. Hell, you helped implement this rule into society and even went as far as to draw up a little notice to stick next to the coffee machine and yet today… Today you broke that rule.

You used Otis’s mug.

And to make matters worse, you didn’t just break the rule, but you broke the mug as well. You broke the big hug mug and the second it hit the ground, you knew you were done for.

To be fair, technically Capp broke the mug by throwing a football around inside and knocking it out of your hands, but still. You’d used the mug and if you hadn’t? Well, let’s just say it would have been in one piece still sitting on the counter rather than in multiple pieces and scattered all over the floor along with your coffee.

“Oh no. Oh no, no, no.” You mumbled to yourself, practically falling to your knees in the middle of the common room, where the camaraderie within had died down severely after the smashing of the mug. “Otis is going to kill me.”

“We’ll give you a good funeral.” Mouch muttered, earning a few stifled chuckles from the others and a stern glare from you.

“Shut it, Mouch.” You gritted, your jaw tensing as your eyes dropped back down to the mess on the floor. You picked up a piece of pale orange mug, running your thumb lightly over the broken words that once spelled out ‘big hug mug’.

You knew how much Otis liked this mug. How much he loved it. He was always going on and on about how it was the perfect shape. The perfect size. How it seemed to keep his coffee warmer for longer and how the exterior didn’t get too hot which meant he could hold it without burning his hands.

Even the shape of the handle was something he often talked about, how his fingers fit perfectly around it without any discomfort as most of the mugs in the firehouse had small handles, making for awkward holding and a lot of near misses.

Otis really treasured this mug and now it was broken.

You had broken it and even though it may sound silly to some people, you were really afraid that he wouldn’t be able to forgive you for doing so. Which would be even worse now given the fact that you were dating.

After a hellishly long year of pining for one another you were finally dating. You were finally happy, together, and maybe even a little in love too. And now all that could end up crumbling beneath you because you broke the one rule you swore you’d never break.

“Where is Otis right now?” You glanced up, your eyes wide as you shifted them around the room, only getting shrugs in response which had you grumbling in annoyance. “Don’t all jump in to help me at once.”

“I think he’s in the bunk room.” Cruz replied, a touch of sympathy slipping through his lips as even as Otis’s best friend, he never dared use that mug.

“Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad then. Maybe I can fix it before he notices… Right?” You chewed at your lip, which was actually wobbling a little as you began to grow nervous.

“I hate to say it, kid.” Herrmann said softly, crouching down in front of you and picking up a small piece of the mug, the ceramic crumbling between his fingers. “But I think the mug is done for.”

“You’re right.” You whined quietly, hiding your face in your hands and taking a few deep breaths as you actually felt rather sick over the whole ordeal. To the point where your hands physically shook and your stomach tightened to where you thought your torso was about to snap in half. “Oh, I have to tell him, don't I?”

“Or…” Mouch dragged out, gaining your attention. “You hide the evidence and blame it on third shift.”

“Interesting.” You pondered, chewing at the skin of your lip as that wasn’t a half bad idea. But you knew it was wrong. Otis was your boyfriend and he deserved to know the truth. You shook your head, beginning to gather up all the broken pieces. “No. No, I can’t do that. I can’t lie to him. I’ll just tell him the truth. Capp broke it.”

“Hey!”

“Well if you hadn’t been throwing that football around like a child, it wouldn’t have broken now, would it?” You pointed out, raising your eyebrow as you got to your feet.

A rather excellent point if you did say so yourself.

“You don’t know that.” Capp replied, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have been using it. And you shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”

“You shouldn’t have been throwing a ball around inside.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Herrmann said in a way far too similar to the tone he used with his kids. “All this yammering ain’t gonna fix that mug. Now you got two choices here…” He turned to you, innocence clouding your face that had been firing looks towards Capp. “You do what Mouch said and blame somebody else…”

“A wise choice.”

“…Or you tell Otis the truth.” Herrmann finished, ignoring Mouch’s comment. “It’s your call.”

As tempting as the first choice was, you knew you couldn’t lie to him and so you picked the right one. The one that wouldn’t eat away at you inside as you never were good at lying, or keeping them rather. You knew it would come blurting out of your mouth at some stage and you’d rather it be now than later as that way, if Otis hated you for it, it might not hurt as bad.

You sucked in a breath, holding it until your legs had carried you all the way down the corridor and once you reached the bunk room doors, it burst out of you all trembling, making you want to turn tail and run as far away as you could. But you didn’t. It was only a mug. It was a piece of coloured ceramic and it really wasn’t something you should be worried about.

But you were. You were so worried and yet to your surprise, you still managed to push open the bunk room door and walk all the way over to Otis without passing out completely or throwing up on the floor.

“Hey baby.” Otis said with a smile the second he glanced up from his book. Only, when he saw the look on your face that smile dropped quicker than his mug had only minutes ago. “Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I have to tell you something.” You mumbled, biting at the skin around your nails as you took a rather slow seat on the end of his bunk, the soft creak of it making you jump a little. “I did something…”

“You did something?” Otis repeated, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips as he shuffled closer to you, swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk to mirror your position. He couldn't help but feel sick. Couldn’t help his mind from racing with the idea that you were about to tell him you’d cheated on him.

“Mhm.” You nodded, dropping your hand from around your mouth and allowing it to settle on your lap, which your gaze fell to. “I broke your mug.”

“Wait, what?” Otis asked, his eyes squinting a little as you finally brought your focus up to his confusion riddled face.

“I broke your mug.” You said louder and more clearly, your brow furrowing when all Otis did was laugh softly to himself in a way that showcased those cute dimples of his. “You’re laughing… Why are you laughing? Didn’t you hear me?”

“I heard you.” Otis nodded, shaking his head as another laugh escaped his lips. “You just looked so nervous I thought you were about to tell me you cheated on me or something.”

“What? I would never cheat on you.” You defended, unsure where you should feel offended or not. “I was just… Scared because I know how much you love that mug, that’s all. And I didn’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, baby, I’m not mad at you.” Otis said softly, cupping your face with both hands and bringing it to look up at him. “I could never be mad at you.”

“But I broke your favourite mug.” You whispered, the small pout on your face almost breaking Otis’s heart had it not been so downright cute.

“I know. And yeah, I’m a little annoyed but I’m sure it was an accident.” He replied, running his thumb lightly over your cheek in a way that had all your silly worries fall from within you. “It was just a mug and I may have loved it, but baby, I love you more.”

“You love me?” Your eyes widened, your face lifting beneath Otis’s touch as that was the first time those words had ever passed either of your lips.

“I do.” Otis nodded, his hand dropping from your cheek to gently hold the side of your neck, where he was able to feel the increased beat of your pulse beneath your skin. “I love you… And I have from the very moment I met you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered, your vision blurring a little from the tears that formed in your eyes.

You leaned in, pressing your lips softly against his and the moment they connected, he took control. His fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer as he kissed you deeply. And with each brush of his moustache over your skin and the heat of his tongue against yours, it quickly made you forget all about what happened. As Otis was right… It was just a mug.

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[cherryrainn]

Hazbin Hotel (specifically Alastor) songfic with a female reader completely based off the Hell's Coming With Me (poor man's poison) song???? Like, Maybe reader was a huge and powerful overlord who died in the 1700 or so (like in end of the western era) and basically was a very feared thief and killer when alive so when she finally died (she got caught and they put her on the train tracks) and came to the underworld she was hell of a powerful demon. And like when Alastor came to the picture after he died he and reader hated each other to death but in a respectful way (like they hated each other because they were a good rival) until one day Alastor finally 'killed' the reader. And what happens in the fic is that reader comes back decades after 'being killed', and she is now an even more powerfull being??

DUUDE!! I LOVE THIS SONG IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS OH MY GOD

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— hell's comin' with me

alastor x female reader (platonic)

song link; click here

in the crimson depths of hell's domain, you, a once-feared outlaw who had perished in the final days of the wild west, roamed with an air of undeniable power. your reputation preceded you, even in the underworld. clad in dark leather, your eyes burned with a fierce determination, matching the intensity of your gun-slinging skills.

years later, after countless exploits in hell, a new figure emerged—a sinner known as alastor, he was a serial killer before he got to hell. his arrival in 1933 marked a turning point in the hierarchy of the underworld. alastor, with his dapper appearance and sinister grin, quickly made his mark among the denizens of hell.

they all laughed as he turned around slow

the denizens of hell chuckled mockingly as alastor, the charismatic demon overlord, turned around slowly, his signature smile playing upon his lips. their laughter filled the air, underestimating the power that lay beneath his charming facade.

but you, stood apart from the crowd, a knowing smirk on your face. while the others laughed, you recognized the depths of alastor's cunning and the danger he posed.

they said you ain't welcome 'round here anymore

as the denizens of hell continued to laugh, their voices echoing through the darkened corridors, alastor's smile widened. the amusement of the crowd was but fuel to his twisted desires.

you just might as well go

with a wave of his hand, alastor's sinister power surged forth, engulfing those who had dared to mock him. the once boisterous laughter turned into terrified screams as their bodies contorted and twisted under the weight of their own fear.

he wiped the blood from his face as he slowly came to his knees

alastor wiped the blood from his face with a gloved hand, his grin never wavering even in the face of his recent carnage. the room was now a tableau of macabre artistry, the lifeless bodies scattered like discarded puppets.

a hush fell over the chamber, broken only by the echoes of his own laughter. the metallic scent of blood lingered in the air, a reminder of the power he had unleashed upon those who dared to mock him.

he said, i'll be back when you least expect it

alastor's reputation reached your ears, and a sense of rivalry ignited within you. the stories of his power and charm resonated with your own thirst for dominance. although you had arrived in hell long before him, fate had woven a tale that would eventually intertwine your destinies.

and hell's coming with me

as time passed, whispers of your rivalry echoed through the depths of hell. demons watched with bated breath, intrigued by the clash of two formidable forces. your encounters were marked by tense standoffs and battles of wits, each trying to outmaneuver the other.

hell's coming with me

one day, with alastor and his dapper figure standing tall amidst the aftermath, locked eyes with you, the formidable outlaw who had found her place in hell.

"there is a hill at the bottom of the valley"

the words echoed in your mind, a haunting reminder of the fate that awaited all souls in this realm.

"where all the poor souls go when they die"

a tension hung in the air as alastor and you locked eyes.

and if you listen real close,

you can hear 'em like a ghost,

saying you're never gonna make it out alive.

a flicker of amusement danced across alastor's face, his voice dripping with sardonic charm. "ah, my dear rival, it seems the spirits themselves have spoken. can't you hear them? the echoes of doubt, whispering that your demise is inevitable."

your gaze narrowed, determination burning in your eyes. "don't mistake their voices for truth, alastor. i've faced death before, and i've always come out on top." you smirked.

a wicked grin curled alastor's lips as he leaned in, his voice laced with mocking condescension. "oh, how entertaining it is to witness your misplaced confidence. the town at the bottom of the hill, the secret they keep... you think you can defy them all? you underestimate the power that resides within their grasp."

there is a town at the bottom of that hill,

they got a secret that they keep like a slave.

they got a black magic preacher,

we'd do well to let him teach her.

you'll be heading up that hill to the grave.

the tension between alastor and you reached its boiling point, escalating into a full-blown clash.

and it is well, with my soul,

with lightning speed, you drew your gun, which was technically a part of you as it just came down with you, the power it held was amazing. your movements fluid and precise. the room reverberated with the resounding echoes of gunfire, as bullets whizzed through the air, each aimed with deadly accuracy. alastor, equally skilled and nimble, danced through the chaos, evading your shots with a devilish grace.

you line your pockets full of money that you steal from the poor

the clash of power and skill was a sight to behold, as the air crackled with energy. each blow you landed, each bullet that found its mark, only seemed to fuel alastor's determination. his grin widened, a glimmer of sadistic delight dancing in his eyes.

despite your formidable abilities, alastor seemed to possess an otherworldly strength, a power that surpassed limits. blow after blow, he deflected your attacks with unnerving ease, countering with a ferocity that left you reeling.

the wounds you inflicted upon each other painted a macabre tapestry on your bodies, a testament to the brutal struggle for dominance. but even in the face of adversity, neither of you backed down.

yet, in a moment of unforeseen precision, alastor seized an opening. his movements became a blur, an unstoppable force that overwhelmed your defenses. with a final strike, he delivered a blow that sent you sprawling to the ground.

and on your way down the hill, you hear me ring that bell

the room fell into an eerie silence as alastor stood over you, his victory palpable in the air. the fight had taken its toll, and your body lay motionless on the cold, unforgiving ground.

a wicked smile curved alastor's lips as he observed his fallen rival. his voice dripped with cruel satisfaction. "oh, how the mighty have fallen. your skills were impressive, but in the end, my dominance reigns supreme."

the battle had come to a devastating conclusion, and the denizens of hell watched in a mixture of awe and terror. alastor's victory was undeniable

and the price he paid for challenging you was steep.

i'd pay the devil twice as much to keep your soul

decades had passed since the fateful encounter that led to your supposed demise. but now, in a twist of fate, you returned to the realm of hell, and transformed into an even more powerful being. as you ventured through the hellscape, your presence went unnoticed by alastor and the other inhabitants.

there was a drifter passing through that little valley

at first, you reveled in the anonymity, relishing the element of surprise that shrouded your true identity.

she had promised she was coming back to town

alastor and the denizens of hell had no inkling that the being before them was the same one they believed to have perished long ago.

they didn't know her by her face, or by the gun around her waist.

with each passing encounter, you showcased newfound strength and abilities that surpassed anything they had witnessed before. your presence was a force to be reckoned with, leaving those around you awestruck and uncertain of the true nature of your being.

but she come back to burn that town to the ground

in the aftermath of chaos, fire engulfed the once-proud "town" billowing smoke rising to the neverending sky.

first there was fire, then there was smoke, then that preacher man was hangin' by a rope.

alastor, drawn by the carnage, arrived at the scene, his eyes scanning the destruction with a mix of curiosity and concern. and amidst the ruins, a figure emerged, cloaked in darkness, the embodiment of vengeance.

yeah, destruction was normal here,

but it ever wasn't this bad.

then they all fell to their knees and begged that drifter

as the chaos settled, the townsfolk, once arrogant and prideful, now humbled by their impending demise, fell to their knees in desperate supplication. they pleaded for mercy from the drifter they had wronged, their voices laced with fear and regret.

no sinner could actually kill these folk. what was going on?

begged her please, as she raised her fist before she spoke

as the smoke cleared, your figure emerged from the shadows, a manifestation of both righteous fury and an unforgiving darkness. alastor's gaze locked onto you, a flicker of understanding crossing his face.

"i am the righteous hand of god, and i am the devil that you forgot!"

your voice resonated with a newfound authority, each word punctuating the truth that had been hidden for so long.

and i told you one day you will see

that i'll be back i guarantee

and that hell's coming, hell's coming,

hell, hell's coming with me.

your eyes locked onto alastor's, both filled with the weight of their respective histories. in that moment, the intensity of your shared animosity hung thick in the air. a brief exchange of words passed between you, laden with a mixture of bitterness and respect.

and it is well, with my soul,

you line your pockets full of money that you steal from the poor.

"you've returned, my dear rival," alastor drawled, a hint of intrigue mingling with his ever-present smirk.

"i've come to claim what is rightfully mine," you replied, your voice tinged with a steely resolve.

the clash began, a symphony of power and skill. blow after blow, your strength surpassed even alastor's expectations,

and on your way down to hell, you hear me ring that bell

your relentless assault pushed alastor to his limits, the battle teetering on a razor's edge.

the moment of truth arrived, the battle reaching its climax. you easily had alastor cornered, victory within your grasp. but as your eyes locked with his, something stirred within you—a flicker of recognition and a shared history that transcended the present.

in that fleeting moment, a decision was made. without uttering a single word, you spared him, stepping back and relinquishing the opportunity for a final strike with a growl.

and i said,

hell's coming with me.

with a nod of acknowledgment, you walked away, leaving the fallen demon behind.

alastor watched as you walked away, a mixture of curiosity and a renewed sense of purpose ignited within him, the encounter with you shifting his perspective in unforeseen ways.

he sighs, leaning his head backwards and against the ground.

"well, my dear outlaw. i must say, you've proven to be quite the enigma, to spare me when victory was within your grasp, that's a choice that defies the very essence of our rivalry."

note; my 2nd songfic with alastor. i just wanna say, i had the time of my life writing this! it was so much fun, can't wait for more requests like this one in the future!

[fangirlxwritesx67]

Just Like A Kiss

a follow up story to Texas Peach 1700 words, Jensen Ackles x Jared Padalecki Author's note at the end

***

Jared flinched.

At the last moment, before their lips met, he flinched and turned away.

Jensen knew he would, of course. Because you don't kiss your best friend and costar in front of a crowd of adoring fangirls. Because the joke was too close to the truth. 

In real life, it had all played out in a minute, but in Jensen's memory, the moments lingered, time slowing and stretching around the two of them.

"...same with a kiss," Jensen had answered an audience question, adding a little smirk as he pointed. Convention crowds ate up that swagger. 

"Prove it." Jared hadn't seemed to be paying attention, fidgeting with his fingers to demonstrate a taco crumbling. But he was completely focused, suddenly, as he turned to Jensen, their gazes locked together. Mischief glinted in Jared's eyes, sparkling in their green-gold-grey depths. His pupils were wide with a familiar look of adoration and desire.

Jared's heart must've been beating out of his chest because Jensen could feel his pulse quiver in the air between them, or maybe that was his own blood pounding through his veins. 

Emotion hit, flooding down a well-worn path in his mind. The longing for Jared was almost overwhelming, the pull to hold him, to have more than he had ever dared in public. All these years, and the feeling hadn't weakened, no less compelling for being familiar.

His eyes flicked down to Jared's mouth, pouted out in an exaggerated pucker. He wet his own lips, quick and shallow, thinking about Jared's tongue meeting his own, about all the places that mouth had been. Their bodies drew together, each of them leaning to the right, arms already lifting for an easy embrace. Jared's body he knew almost as well as his own, moving in sync without speaking.  

As the gap closed between them, their hands brushed against each other and Jensen felt the touch like a spark.Anger flared in his chest and his jaw clenched. Why couldn't he have what he wanted, have Jared and kiss him, whenever and wherever, not caring who saw or knew? 

Their eyes met again, and that's when Jared flinched. 

The noise of the crowd, clapping and cheering, rushed back in as Jared gave a sassy hair flip and turned, away from Jensen, back to the people watching. 

It should be me. I should be the one by your side, I should be the one that people see with you. You should be mine.

Jensen knew he couldn't reveal what he was feeling. He felt exposed, suddenly keenly aware of the gaze of so many eyes fixed on him, and cast around for a distraction. A wide easy smile and the fans moved right along from the missed kiss. 

Jensen hadn't realized he was holding his breath, and sucked in air as he settled back in his chair. He kept the smile pasted on his face as he adjusted his seating. From the corner of his eye, even as he played to the audience, he noticed Jared pass a hand over his face, a subtle gesture giving him time to gather himself. The way he shifted in his chair, leaning back and tangling his legs, was a sure sign to Jensen that he was retreating. 

Both of them knew the moment had left them vulnerable, their secret feelings just a little too easy to glimpse. 

I wish I could show the world how much I care for you. Jensen sighed. 

Instead they turned, shoulder to shoulder in wordless agreement, and they slipped back into the protection afforded by their public roles. The Handsome and Sunshine Show, Jensen had seen the tag on social media. It was a performance just as sure as any TV episode, but they had practice at it. The two of them were a good pair, he thought, as he let himself be carried along by the comforting rhythm of their stage interactions.

Jensen couldn't stop himself from returning to that moment in his mind, even as he and Jared completed their day of work at the convention. They had done this many times before, signed the autographs, walked through the photo ops, and the work came easily. He was able to focus on the people in front of him and almost – almost — forgot that Jared owed him a kiss. 

Afterwards, they went out to dinner with a few of the cast, Rob and Ruth, Rich, Alex, and others. They were old friends, and they knew the truth of Jensen and Jared's relationship. In this company, they could relax a little more. 

Still, even a private room at a restaurant could instantly turn public if they were spotted by a fan. The two of them kept their touches under the table, Jared running teasing long fingers up the inseam of Jensen's jeans until Jensen stopped him with a firm hand on his upper thigh. They laced their fingers together under the open placket of Jared's plaid shirt as they enjoyed their food and drinks.

More than once, Jensen found himself looking longingly at Jared's mouth as he laughed and talked, always the life of the party. Jared's heavy eyelids when he caught him staring left no doubt that he, too, was looking forward to the moment they would be alone together.

The close, cautious affection carried them through their goodbyes and into the elevator. There were no kisses behind closed doors, not when they could open on a new floor at any moment and anyone could see them. But Jensen couldn't stand to have any more distance between him and his boy. With a possessive hand on the back of his neck, he pulled Jared in close, ready to whisper in his ear. With Jared's hair tickling his cheek, he couldn't find any words to say, just held him like that as they breathed together.

When they reached their floor, Jensen shifted to an arm around Jared's shoulders as they exited the elevator. The two of them walked in silence, their steps in sync, to their shared suite.

Once inside, Jensen busied himself with the latch, the lock, the deadbolt, before turning to face Jared. 

He was waiting, a teasing grin on his face that turned to pouty lips, a blown kiss. 

"I'm gonna need you to finish what you started." Jensen heard the rough edge of desire undercut the direction in his own voice.  

Jared's eyes widened, flashed, and he leaned down eagerly. Their lips met, dry and gentle, for a long kiss. Every bit of it was familiar, Jared's head tilt, his little sigh, the pressure of their mouths, their bodies together. 

The second kiss was deeper, Jensen nudging at Jared's lips with his tongue, Jared parting them easily, welcoming him eagerly in. Jensen wrapped his arms tighter around Jared, one around his shoulders, the other around his waist, pulling him closer.

The second kiss turned into the third kiss without them ever breaking apart, and then shattered into countless more kisses. Jensen's lower hand slipped into Jared's plaid shirt, up under his t-shirt, until he could palm skin. His touch slid across the cut of his hip bone, fingers seeking that dip in the hollow of Jared's back, right above the curve of his peachy ass. 

"So hot," he murmured against Jared's lips, and he must've heard him, because he pulled back just enough that their eyes could meet. Jensen's hand had been resting on the back of Jared's neck and he moved with a caress to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the soft short hair along his jawline, up and over to the dimples visible through his beard. 

The two of them paused for a beat like that, forehead to forehead, arms wrapped around one another, chests rising and falling together. Jensen never got tired of being this close to his lover, looking up to see every sparkling color in his eyes, feeling every breath across his lips. The moment stretched, swelled, to include everything he had wanted in that second on stage earlier in this day, holding his world in his arms.

"Jared," the beloved name fell from his lips, ripe and heavy with desire. 

"Please," was all Jared said, but his wide lust-blown eyes, his flushed cheeks, his parted lips spoke volumes, the truth writ large across his handsome face. Jensen had seen glimpses, all day, but this was the first time they were alone for Jared to bare his response, the two of them stripping down to the truth between them. 

They had already had reunion sex the night before, clothes hastily thrown off in their eagerness to come together. They had slow sleepy bedtime sex, naked under the sheets before falling asleep in one another’s arms. And they had a moment in the shower this morning, no less good for being rushed.

This was something different. This was the connection that had sparked on stage, that had pulled thin, finally coming back together. Everything they couldn't show the public was laid bare. 

This time, they were stripping down to their very souls. The burden of keeping up appearances, of their public stories, fell to the wayside in the face of their truth. The long days apart, the lonely nights, melted away under their touches. 

With every touch, Jensen asked, Do you still want me just as much?

To every question, Jared answered, Yes.

The fragile bubble of their shared desire encompassed their entire world, no space for anything but the two of them. Much like the moment earlier, on stage, time became meaningless, measured in heartbeats rather than minutes. Only this time, instead of pulling away, Jared came to Jensen, unflinching in his intention, every kiss a promise fulfilled. 

Their caresses were weighted with the knowledge that life would pull them apart again soon, but for now, they could not hear the clock ticking down. For now, they only existed in this room, in this bed, together. Jensen heard only Jared's panting moans, his whispered words of love and need. 

Blood rushed in his ears and with every beat, his heart said, mine, mine, mine.

Jared answered back yours, yours, yours with every kiss. 

*** Author's Note: First off a huge thanks to @there-must-be-a-lock who jumped in to pre-read for me! Thanks for keeping friendship and fandom alive between us. I know it's been a while since I've written. I still have ideas that are waiting for stories. Thanks for reading, both in the past and now.

[thrawns-babygirl]

Hey, can i put in request for our snarky hotshot?

I saw this prompt somewhere and really liked it

“want a massage? i’ve been told that i’m..very good with my hands” and if you’re bored it can lead to some dirty dirty? If that’s the case, body worship maybe? TY soo very much <3

Sorry this took so long lmao. Moving house has been KILLING me. I loved writing this and I hope I did the prompt justice :)

And yes I will continue writing Medic!Reader. Doc is just the perfect gender neutral nickname I am a sucker for when the fic writes itself. No I will not stop and no one can make me.

Crosshair x GN!Reader

(This is my first time attempting to write an actual GN penetration fic so lemme know if it leans to heavily in one way or another. It can be read as either PiA or PiV imo)

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 1700+

Masterlist

Crosshair was loitering again. It wasn’t an uncommon thing; he wasn’t exactly subtle about being soft on you. It was a source of constant teasing from his brothers, much to his chagrin. He was very firm about it “No I do not have a ‘crush’ on the doctor Wrecker, grow up” or “they’re just so fun to tease” which would result in knowing looks shared between his brothers as he stormed off to loiter in your office as you finished paperwork.

Today was no different.

You were hunched over your desk, trying to finish off the last of the medical reports so that you could get to sleep at a reasonable hour for a change as you were once again interrupted by the drawl of a certain handsome sniper.

“Your posture is terrible, that’s gotta be bad on your back” you look over to where Crosshair is leaning against the wall of your office, arms crossed over his chest still clad in his armor moving the ever-present toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. Fixing him with a scowl you adjust your posture slightly before replying “Well no one is asking you to hang around and berate me about it, don’t you have someone else you would rather annoy?” he hits you with his trademark smirk “No”.

You simply sigh before getting back to your work. You try to ignore him, honestly you do, but it’s difficult. His presence is a source of constant conflict for you, he is devilishly handsome, and he knows it. He enjoys flustering you with flirtatious comments and small touches when the situation allows, he enjoys the way you blush and stumble over your words at his teasing, he enjoys it far too much.

You grunt softly as rub your back, maybe he did have a good point. Your back was sore, your eyes were tired, and you wanted nothing more than to go back to your quarters, take a hot shower and fall into your semi-comfortable bed.

“Told you so” you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he moves off the wall towards you. You sigh and shut off your terminal before glancing over at Crosshair who is now standing behind you, looming over you with his imposing height. “I’m heading back to my quarters Cross, go find someone else to piss off” you tried to snap at him, but your voice just sounded exhausted instead as you rub your shoulders. You stand up and leave towards the direction of your room, attempting to ignore the sniper who was following you.

“You know…” he starts as you look over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow “I’ve been told that I’m very good with my hands, if you want a massage” you think about the offer, wondering if this is a joke or if one of you has actually taken the final step in this ‘will they wont they’ situation you’ve found yourselves in. Deciding to throw caution to the wind you simply nod and lead the way to your quarters.

Once inside you feel a little unsure of how to proceed, you never really thought either of you would take this final step towards… whatever it is that’s happening right now, and you never thought this far ahead. You decide to lay down on your bed, face in your pillows as you hear some shuffling from Crosshair behind you.

You feel Crosshair’s long toned legs against your thighs, something that is decidedly not the hard jab of plastoid and you lift your head up to look behind you only to be greeted with the sight of Crosshair in only the bottom half of his blacks straddling your thighs busying himself with a small packet of lubricant that look eerily familiar. “Did… did you swipe that from my office?” you move your head back down into the pillows to stop Crosshair from seeing your blush as he tuts “where else would I have gotten it?” you decide not to question it as you feel his hands under the hem of your shirt. “You gotta take this off doc, I need room to work” you silently follow his command as you shift and allow him to help you remove your shirt. Ignoring the burning heat in your face as you lay your head against your arms on your pillow.

You shudder slightly as you hear him open the packet and rub his hands together, successfully stifling an embarrassingly desperate moan as his hands make contact with your back. He wasn’t kidding, he is really good with his hands. You feel all your tension leave you as he runs his hands along your back, working through the knots and kinks in your muscles as you feel yourself melting into the mattress.

He works his hands lower until his fingers are digging into your hips as his thumbs work on a particularly tense area of your lower back. You fail to stifle your moan this time, you also fail to notice the sharp inhale and movement of Crosshairs hips to the sound. You’re lost in the bliss of Crosshair’s hands as he finally breaks the silence that has settled over the two of you “You know doc… I think I could get better access if you moved your pants down a little” you both know this is probably untrue, but at this point you really don’t care. The two of you have been moving around this for far too long and if this is what it takes for you to finally step over the line, you’re more than ready. You nod as you feel Crosshair’s hands snake their way under your pants and underwear, pulling them down slowly as he reveals more of your skin to him.

“You’re… stunning doc” his voice is breathy with a barely contained desire as he runs his hands down over your bare skin, running his fingers over the flesh of your ass kneading the soft skin before he leans down and starts trailing a line of kisses down your back. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this… wanted you” he continues pulling your pants down further. “I need you to tell me you want this too” his voice has dropped into a breathy whisper as he speaks to you.

You raise your head slightly to look behind you, his face and chest are dusted with a light blush, his eyes are blown wide with lust and there is a very prominent bulge in his blacks. You nod, wetting your lips as you find the words “yes… yes I want this too”. You watch as Crosshair lets out a shuddered exhale and moves to find the leftover lube from the packet before placing your head back into your pillow.

“Just lie back and enjoy Doc…” his voice is husky as he returns his hands to your body, running them along your thighs up towards the swell of your ass, placing kisses along your back, his stubble sending tingles through your body as he brings his now slick fingers to your entrance. You tense slightly as he slowly pushes a single finger inside you, pumping it in and out for a bit before adding a second scissoring them slightly. “Fuuuck… you’re so tight doc… can’t wait to feel you around my cock” you shudder at his voice, the feeling of his long fingers filling you up, soft moans falling from your lips as he moves the digits in and out of your tight entrance.

You whimper slightly at the feeling of his fingers leaving you, only to take a sharp inhale as you feel him move behind you, removing the bottom half of his blacks. You steal another quick glance behind you and gasp at the sight of him.

He’s huge, long and thick with precum beading at the tip. You watch as he pours the remainder of the lube onto his length, giving himself a few strokes before leaning over you, one hand beside your head as he uses the other to line himself up with your prepped hole. You moan as you feel the blunt head of his cock press against you before slowly pressing in. The sounds he makes as he slowly feeds his length inside you are utterly sinful, a long groan of your name leaves his lips as he holds himself above you with both arms, panting softly.

“Fuck… Doc you’re so fucking tight. You take my cock so well” his voice is shaky, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from slamming his hips into yours with reckless abandon. You turn your head again and nod, hoping that he gets the hint that he can start moving.

He does, his first thrusts are slow, tentative, gauging your reactions before he begins picking up the pace at your soft moans of his name. It’s not long before he’s moving his hips into yours, ripping pornographic moans from your chest that you would probably be embarrassed about if you weren’t so thoroughly engulphed in pleasure.

“Fuck just like that, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this Doc… You’re fucking perfect” he lets out another long groan as he fucks you with reckless abandon, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you repeatedly, bringing you closer and closer towards your release. His rhythm begins to faulter slightly as his breathing gets heavier “where...?” his voice is strained as he holds himself back from the edge “inside” you let out one long moan of his name as your climax washes over you, your legs shaking from pleasure as Crosshair slams his hips inside of you a few more times before letting out a sinful moan as his cock throbs and he finishes inside you, filling you with his cum.

He leans down against your back as you both pant, attempting to catch your breath, both of your bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat as you bask in your afterglows. He pulls his softening length out of you before disappearing to the refresher to grab you a damp towel, throwing it at you as he places a toothpick in his mouth.

“Not a word of this to my brothers. If I have to hear ‘I told you so’ from Hunter I’ll deck him”  

@where-is-my-mind-tho @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ilovestarwarsmen725 @vincentferard

[our-death-means-flag]

Iz Hands x a reader with sensory issues. Mostly with voice though, not much with texture and other things. Reader is a good fighter and shit, much like Blackbeard, but just can't stand the constant yelling and noise. I just feel like it'd be interesting to explore that. Izzy noticing reader flinching or covering their ears when he yells and feeling bad. He wants to help but doesn't know how. Maybe they talk and Izzy realizes how much the noise effects them and is sort of like "How the fuck did you captain a ship before then" but later tries to make them or get the crew to make them something to block out noise. Sort of the 1700s equivalent to noise cancelling headphones.

Quiet

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader (implied romantic but vague enough to be platonic) Notes: You’re a well known pirate and friend of Ed’s, eager to be along for the ride with this strange new world of his. You're skilled enough that when you suddenly react strangely to Izzy yelling at you. He decides to investigate and then help. Warnings: some descriptions of sensory overload, Izzy being bad at comfort (he’s trying)

Honesty, you’d been doomed to this fate the moment you were on a ship with Izzy yells-as-a-hobby Hands.  The only reason it hadn’t happened already was purely luck. But your luck could only last so long.  

You’d had sensitive hearing your whole life. In all honesty, it was an asset as much as it was a hindrance. After all, no one had  been able to sneak up on you. But most times it was a problem. You never knew why but occasionally sound just became unbearable.  Voices in particular. Sometimes hearing someone yell felt like taking a point blank cannon blast to the head.  Usually you could pretend that none of it bothered you. You had developed an art to hiding your flinches and holding back your reactions during your long and successful pirating career. 

But you couldn’t always manage that.  And currently, you were having an incredibly hard time.

It probably wasn’t actually Izzy that pushed you over the edge. Well, at least not only Izzy. The crew’d had a party the night before to celebrate a really good raid. That alone was a lot. 

And now Izzy was yelling as usual. Your brain was so busy screaming about how loud it was you actually had no idea what he was actually complaining about. Each syllable grated on your mind. You were as tense as a bowstring trying incredibly hard to focus on anything but the sound to no avail. Your hands almost trembled so you let go of the rigging you were trying to redo to try and calm the shaking. 

Everything was so damn loud.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus. No dice. You had to get out of here. 

Loud…

Maybe you could make up a reason? Maybe you could say you were hungover from last night's party? Or maybe you just weren’t feeling well? Though, both of those excuses were liable to get you yelled at by Izzy Hands for slacking off… Shit.

Loud.

Maybe you could escape to the stores? When had anyone done inventory last? Or you could climb up to the crows nest? That might be quieter? Maybe-

If you were not as overwhelmed as you were, you would have definitely heard someone getting closer but now, you only realized when a hand grabbed your arm and spun you around. The suddenness of the action did not help your racing mind. Neither did the fact that Izzy Fucking Hands was currently yelling in your face. Your long suffering composure finally broke and you flinched back, clasping your hands over your ears and pulling away. You felt your back hit the railing and your shoulders shaking from gasping. 

Quiet.

Everything was suddenly quiet.

More so than it would be if you had properly covered your ears. Something was up. You peeked your eyes open and saw the whole crew staring at you, dead quiet. Even Izzy, shockingly, had backed up, looking confused at you.

Shit.

“I-” You managed. “Uh.” You fumbled for words, hands still clasped over your ears. “I’m gonna just go… Yeah.” While everyone was still stunned you booked it, pulling one hand off one of your ears just long enough to open a door and disappear below decks, found a quiet corner and curled up in it. You tried to steady your breathing, hands still covering your ears.

Slowly but surely your mind calmed down. You kept your hands where they were but you were feeling a little less like your head was being ripped in half and your brain finally managed to reboot. You groaned. It had been ages since the last time you slipped up this badly in front of people. At least that time you'd been able to write it off as a symptom of blood loss on account of the hole in your side.  This time? This time, you had no excuse. (Maybe you could go with the ‘pretend to be hungover’ plan and just deal with Izzy’s lecture later…)

Izzy wasn’t able to sneak up on you this time since you weren’t completely out of it. The moment the storeroom door opened you looked over. The moment you noticed him you dropped one of your hands into your lap, trying to play it off like you were leaning your head on the other one. “What do you want?” You tried to imbue your voice with some ‘I’m the captain and you have to listen to me’ energy you usually managed to have but not this time. Your voice came as an exhausted whisper.

Izzy looked very odd, lingering at the door like a nervous shadow. “I-” He started at a slightly louder than speaking noise and you jumped ( your body having apparently completely given up on the fight to stay unnoticed). “I’m sorry… I think.” He finished in a stage whisper.

You raised a brow, both from the strangeness of Izzy being so considerate and the strange phrasing. “You think you’re sorry?” You echoed.

“The boy, Spriggs, said I should apologize.” Izzy elaborated. “Though I’m not sure what for.” A pause. Izzy glanced around and gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your confusion only intensified. This was very odd for him. Sure the apology was stilted and awkward but it seemed genuine. Izzy Hands genuinely apologizing to you… You never thought you’d see the day… He visibly fumbled for more words so you decided to put him out of his misery. “You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Look, I’ll tell everyone that you apologized and everything’s all fine. You don't have to do this. I officially accept your not-really-apology for whatever you said.” You commented, chuckling weakly. “You’re free to ditch me.”

“You don’t know what I said?” Izzy looked genuinely baffled.

You shook your head, pulling both hands away from your ears and letting them fall into your lap. “Not a clue. I couldn’t hear you.”

Izzy tilted his head. The gesture looked so odd on him. “Is there something wrong with your ears? Should I get the doctor?”

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong… Well, if there is something wrong it’s been like that my whole life…” Izzy only looked more confused. You considered for a moment. Eh, fuck it. Might as well… “It’s just a thing that happens with me. Sometimes sounds are just…” You motioned vaguely with your hands. “Too loud. Just the yelling and all the noise makes it hard to think.”

“You can’t handle noise?” Izzy asked, still looking disbelieving. You nodded. “Then how the fuck did you captain a ship?” He was clearly still making an attempt to be quiet so his words came out as more of a hiss than a yell.

You shrugged. “I got good at pretending it didn’t bother me. When I was a captain, I could stay in my cabin and avoid most of the noise. Can’t exactly do that anymore, can I?”

“Pretending? So it always bothers you?” 

You nodded. “Yup. Sometimes it’s just too much. With yesterday’s raid and the party… I guess it was a bit much for me. Everything was just too loud. Pretty pathetic huh?” You laughed lightly at yourself. Of course Izzy was going to have a fit over you ditching work for something so stupid.

“Impressive actually.” Izzy stated bluntly 

You did a double take. “What?” If it was supposed to be sarcastic then it was delivered wrong. 

Izzy seemed surprised at your surprise. “What? You work through all that.” You weren’t convinced. Izzy sighed. “You work on a ship full of idiots who won’t do their damn jobs even if you served it to them on one of Bonnet’s stupid fancy plates, and you work through all that shit?”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Was that a compliment you just gave me?” You chuckled. “Who are you and what have you done with Izzy?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off.” His voice was still soft. “Does anyone know?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It’s too easy to exploit in a fight. Don't want to risk it.”

“Not even Ed?”

“No, I think he knows there’s something with me and sound. He’s observant enough but I never told him.” Sure you and Ed had been kind of friends before, for a long time too but before the Revenge, the idea of being allowed to be that vulnerable (even around someone you trusted with your life) felt wrong.  Izzy seemed weirdly stoic for a moment. You wondered how he felt, knowing a secret his captain didn’t. “You can tell him if you’d like. I’m not going to ask you to keep a secret from your captain.” You knew how Izzy’s loyalties lied between you and Ed, but you still didn’t want to put Izzy in an uncomfortable situation because of your screw up.

A moment passed in comfortable silence and you stretched and stood. “Well, back to it…” Izzy held up a hand to stop you from leaving. “What?”

“You’re taking the rest of the day off.” You could tell he meant it as an order even though his voice was still soft. 

“No, no. I can get back to work.” He stared. “Seriously I’m fine. I’ve worked through this sort of thing before.”

Izzy huffed and for a moment you thought he was going to back down but instead. “Take the day off. That’s an order from your first mate.”

You sighed. You weren’t winning this. “You got it, first mate Hands. Don’t hesitate to get me if anything comes up.” He nodded curtly but you doubted he’d get you for anything short of an emergency.  You walked out into the hall towards your cabin. “Also, thank you.” You called over your shoulder. “It was nice of you to come by to check on me, even if it was under duress.” 

“I will take your break back.” Izzy grumbled but you knew it was an empty threat. He’d had to convince you to take the break after all. 

You chuckled. “See you around!”

The day after what you were mentally calling ‘the incident ‘ you came on deck to find nothing unusual. It was quiet, as it usually was. Even back when you were a captain, you always came up on deck early. It was calm and you could get a lot of work done. You waved at Izzy when you came on deck. He returned the wave (after looking behind himself as if he assumed you were waving to someone else).

As the day continued the crew slowly trickled awake. Quite a few people asked if you were “feeling better”. Apparently, Izzy had told everyone you’d had a headache (Sans Ed of course, you caught the slightly concerned looks he gave so, you gave him a thumbs up in return). As soon as the crew was on deck you were already bracing yourself for more yelling. It didn’t take long for someone to piss Izzy off enough. You could see Izzy gearing up for a yelling match while Wee John and Frenchie seemed unimpressed and you were already mentally preparing for the sound. 

It didn’t come.

You heard Izzy instead hiss out a cold “Wait.” at barely above a whisper. Whether it was the unusualness of it all or the serious tone of his voice, they listened. Izzy quickly made his way across the deck to stand at your side. You raised a brow in silent confusion. “Cover your ears.” He mumbled, clearly making an attempt to be quiet. It was strange but you humored him, curious as to what was going on.

As soon as your hands were covering your ears Izzy went back to where he was standing and (after confirming one last time that you had your ears covered) went straight into yelling. 

Huh.

You assumed he'd drop it after a bit. He was just giving you time to recover. That didn’t happen. Instead it became a part of Izzy’s usual routine. When he was going to start yelling, he'd always let you know, at first he had to run up to you, then later all it took was a glance. The heads up did help quite a bit. 

Of course you couldn’t always cover your ears. Whenever you had your hands full and couldn’t do what the two of you usually did, Izzy would instead switch to whispering his threats, grabbing whoever he was talking to and pulling them close.

“They respond better to it as well.” Izzy confided to you one morning, both of you leaning against the railing, drinking coffee and relaxing after a successful raid.. 

You grinned. “I’ve used that strategy for ages. You’d be surprised how intimidating whispering can be.”

Izzy chuckled lightly. After that he stayed quiet for a long moment. You raised a brow. You could tell he was trying to figure out how to bring something up. You decided to stay quiet and let him organize his thoughts.

You were rewarded for your patience by a jumpscare as Izzy just awkwardly shoved something into your arms. You looked down to see you were holding a box? You looked back at him and raised a brow. “It’s a very nice box…” You commented somewhat cheekily.

Izzy was doing a really good job at not looking at you. His face even looked a little flushed. “Piss off. Just open the damn box before I toss it into the damn ocean.” He mumbled. His tone was nowhere near as harsh as usual. 

You smiled, gently opening the box. Inside were a bunch of small pieces of… You picked one up. It was malleable in your hand. Wax. It was some kind of wax. 

“They're earplugs. Apparently they’re for your ears.” Izzy stated bluntly, answering your unasked question.

“In what way?”

Izzy sighed, seemingly unsure of himself. “You put them in your ears. Got them on the raid. Had a very well stocked clinic.” You nodded, you remembered Roach being excited about it all. “Willing to bet half of that shit was some kind of experimental treatment. Not even Bonnet knew all of them so it’s not just fancy. Saw the surgeon’s log. Apparently they’re designed to protect a soldier's ears when they’re fighting.”

“And you grabbed these for me?” You asked, already smiling, you pulled two pieces out and pocketed the box.

Izzy flushed more. “I- Well…I  thought they’d be most useful to you. So…”

“Thank you.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, you felt the flinch even as he tried to play it off. You immediately moved to pull away but Izzy moved his arm slightly as if to follow so you left your hand there. You’d been working the wax in your hand so it was already soft enough to try. You gently placed one into your ear, switching the hand on Izzy’s shoulder to put in the other. 

It actually… Kind of worked.

“I think they work… Izzy, could you yell for a bit.” Izzy chuckled at the request but he did step back a bit and shout. You could hear him well enough that you knew he was calling your name but the sound wasn’t overpowering like it normally was.

“Holy shit.” You whispered. 

Izzy was quick to rush to your side. “Are you alright? Did it work? I-”

You cut him off by placing a hand on both his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He fumbled for a moment then shivered but clung to you almost desperately.

“Thank you Izzy. Seriously. It means a lot to me.” You whispered.

As close as you were, you could hear Izzy’s soft, “Of course. I’m glad they help you.” 

You had a few minutes before the crew would come on deck. So you closed your eyes, enjoyed the quiet and stayed where you were until then.

[thegamingcatmom]

I've loved what you've done with the ideas that I throw your way!

Your writing's always great!

You're one of my fav writers, and whenever you update with your answers to asks on what the characters would think for things? always brings joy to my day!

Not an idea but a thought to a question that came up,

I've realized now that you've brought up kitchen use...and carmen mixing up salt and sugar cause they can't taste....

How are they gonna feed MC? like, is she gonna be fed take out? From your last answer to the ask, Tanya definitely isn't gonna want to let her cook when MC's attention could be on her,

But let's say Carmen, who wants to work on humaning tries to make her a meal...

I've just had a realization that they've lived for quite some time, and it's been a long time since any of them were people who required food and used a kitchen in such a manner,

Like, I assume they'd have been taught to cook within their time periods before when they were still humans growing up,

But also, how well do they truly remember those recipes from, say (carmen was turned in the 1700s? and tanya kate and irina 1000s?) so like centuries to millenia old recipes that they partially remember from their time when they were still human if they even remember at all that is (don't get me started on if they can't find the necessary ingredient for some old dish that they assume MC will love)

Like they don't eat human food unless MC offered and is watching them 👀 and they think it'll score them some points or infuriate Tanya(getting off track whoops) and haven't cooked for way way WAY longer,

And they technically could follow a recipe, but at the same time, what are the odds that one of them go

"I feel like this needs more seasoning, the amount the recipe lists honestly sounds like it'll turn out bland in proportion to the volume of liquid in here already"

*proceeds to add in a cup of salt to the stew or whatever it is they're trying to cook*

"don't want it to be under seasoned"

*dumps in half a cup of saffron and cinnamon*

"I used to make this all the time when I was human....now how much of this spice did I need?"

Or how some people go "measure with your heart" and pours in a mega ton of whatever other ingredient

And they wouldn't be able to know that it's bad or overly seasoned since it's human food in the first place.

Unless they actually follow a recipe for something or make simple foods that actually turn out edible.

Like MC is gonna either have take out, home cooked overly seasoned to the point that it's questionable if edible meals, old old recipes, or idk maybe like instant meals. At least until they hopefully give in to letting MC cook

But also like imagining Tanya at first trying to cook for MC to get her to warm up to her and maybe thinking she can try to gain her affections by feeding her her cooking or whatever, but it just goes no.

-📚 sorry that it's kinda really wordy😣

Ahhh, thank you so much for your lovely words! 🙈🥰

I love answering them and feeding my own obsession as well as yours, hehe. It´s so motivating receiving yalls asks, you have no idea. Whenever a new one pops up and I get a notif on my phone, this is legit me:

GIMME THAT GOOD STUFF. 😩🤌

.

Ahh yes, yes, yes-

LISTEN-

Take out? And risk MC getting sick from all that stuff?? Nuhu, not on Carmen´s watch-

(Kate would be all for it probs. Anything that keeps the hooman fed and alive is good enough for her.

...Until the hooman does get sick for the very first time. Tanya would banish the word alone, lemme tell ya.)

I´ve been thinking about that as well, actually. Quite often.

Like yes, I defo think they got some recipes that they´ve frequently cooked up as humans, especially Carmen. Yall can´t tell me that woman wouldn´t serve MC some Spanish cuisine like a true chef-

...If only she knew how. 😭

She used to. But it´s been years since then. I do think they kinda remember the things that were most important to them as humans, but it´s probs fading more and more the longer they wander this earth. In the end, it´s nothing more than an echo - still there, but just out of reach.

BUT-

Good thing she´s got her vampy brain. It´s faster. More capable. Stores information better. All MC´s gotta do is make damn sure those jars are properly labeled (salt, sugar, etc.) and we´re good. 💪

It might take a bit (like, 2 days probs) but, before long, Carmen will have read any and every book about Spanish cuisine there is, and she WILL work her way through every single recipe, and she WILL cook them all up, if it´s the last thing she does.

And, who knows, perhaps it sparks something within her? Brings back some memories from her past life? So she can finally make that Spanish dish she herself enjoyed so much as a human? She knows it´s up there *points to head* somewhere.

Like, can you imagine MC tasting it for the very first time and thinking it´s the best thing ever?? Can you imagine the LOOK on Carmen´s face?? If she was still human, you can bet your ass there would be tears-

.

Carmen: *sets the plate with her fav Spanish dish in front of MC, a somewhat anxious look on her face*

MC: *eyes it suspiciously, but then remembers Carmen´s nice, so she tries to look like she looks forward to having a taste*

MC: *looks up at Carmen*

Carmen: 👀

MC: 😬

MC, internally: 💀

MC: *looks back down at her dish and accepts her fate cause what is she to do?*

MC: *takes the fork and goes for a very hesitant first bite*

Carmen: 👀

MC: *chews*

Carmen: 👀

MC: *chews some more*

Carmen: 👀

MC: "..."

Carmen: 👀

MC: "..."

Carmen, thinking it sucks ass: 😰

Carmen: "What is missing this time? Or is it too spicy? It is, is it not? I swear I did everything as I remembered it, down to the very last ingredient-"

MC, finally deciding to put that poor woman out of her misery: "It tastes...good."

Carmen: "..."

MC, not even trying to hide her surprise: "...Really good, actually."

Carmen: 👀

MC: 👀

MC: *wastes no more time and dives right in for more, finally some good fucking food-*

Carmen, only now realizing what just happened: 😯😀😍

Also Carmen, two seconds later: 🥹

Tanya, in the distance: *betrayal, jealousy, indignation*

Also Tanya: *already scheming to steal that damn notepad Carmen´s no doubt used to write down the recipe for later use*

Kate, right next to Tanya: *already scheming to steal another indirect kiss...or perhaps try for an actual one, seeing how the lil spitfire seems to be in rather good spirits right now, hmm...*

Irina: *please hold the line*

MC: *still happily munching*

Carmen: 🥰

.

LIKE, YKNOW???

Carmen is too precious for this world. 😭

But ye, that´s pretty much what would happen. Carmen´s gonna make sure the hooman is well-fed so ppl won´t even think about getting her that greasy take out. She might have left her human days behind her centuries ago, but even she recognizes a potential heart attack when she sees one.

.

But I LOVE all your ideas, as per usual. The one with failing to purchase an ingredient because it might no longer exist in this mordern world?? At least not under the name they used to know it by?? PLEASE. 😭

.

But also, the one where they just pour stuff in like no tmr in hopes it´s gonna be the right amount and MC will remain standing?? PLEASE. 💀

But also also, I actually don´t think they´d do that. (Anymore.) At least not until they got the hang of it all. And, if they did decide to season it, then they´d start with something they´ve already made. Yknow, just try out a lil something. Nothing too over the top. Just a smidge. See how MC reacts first. See if she drops dead-

RIGHT, so-

I think they´d go strictly by recipe until they figured it all out. Lest they give MC an actual heart attack...

.

Right so, Carmen cooking is all fine and dandy-

...Until it isn't. Because once the initial joy over getting something edible has faded somewhat, MC realizes that she's bored. Terribly so. (Because, if it was up to Tanya, she'd be sitting somewhere looking pretty all day, nothing more, nothing less. Laying around works too, ofc. Works even better.) And also, she's never been one to let others do the work for her. She's very much capable of fending for herself, tyvm.

So, you can bet your ass she WILL help Carmen cook, if it's the last thing she does.

And Carmen? There's no way she's gonna deny her. She just doesn't have it in her. In fact, she'll be most pleased to spend some quality time with her daughter-in-law charge.

...Unlike her leader.

Nuhu. Impossible. Out of the question. Under no circumstances will she allow her troublemaker-

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😤

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😠

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😒

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😑

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😐

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 🙁

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😕

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: ☹️

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😖

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya, hesitantly opens one eye: 👁

The Troublemaker: 😔

Tanya: 😮‍💨

The Troublemaker: 😔

Tanya, sighing: "...Alright. BUT, I shall oversee proceedings at any time very closely-"

The Troublemaker: 🤩

Tanya: "..."

The Troublemaker: 🥰

Tanya: 🥴

Carmen, having watched it all unfold: 😏 🤭

.

Who is manipulating whom exactly? PLEASE. 😭

.

Okay but also Tanya trying to cook something up for MC so she can preen under her attention and praise, just like Carmen did?? And, in order to accomplish that, she might just go through with her plan of stealing that damn notepad?? Girl is desperate, lemme tell ya. 😭

But also, even if she did manage to steal that notepad, she gotta actually cook it too. Somehow, I don't see our proud coven leader being very good at following instructions (because she can do it ten times better). Especially not when it comes to MC, lol. They´re more alike than MC realizes, I reckon.

ANYWAY-

Tanya´s probs gonna take one look at that recipe and go like "Hmm, okay yeah sounds legit but no" and yknow, just put her own spin on it because there´s no way she´s just gonna copy someone. Especially when it comes to doing anything for MC. (She must stand out.)

(We´re not gonna talk about the fact that she still kinda copies someone by using that recipe in the first place. No, we´re not.)

She´s Tanya Denali, head of the Denali coven, and she will NOT rely on others when it comes to providing for MC. Not on her watch. She´s gonna use Carmen´s recipe and morph it into something that screams "Tanya Denali". (Only Tanya knows what that means, I´m afraid.)

OR, in other words:

It goes just as horribly as we all probs imagine:

Tanya: *sets the plate full of...something in front of MC, looking all proud and smug*

MC: *not even trying to hide her suspicion (and slight disgust) this time*

Tanya, entirely confident: 😌

MC, dares to look up from her plate of horror: 👀

Tanya: 😌

MC, realizing she has no choice if she wants to eat today: 💀

Tanya: 😌

MC: *lifts the fork to her mouth...very slowly indeed*

Tanya: 😌

MC: *closes her mouth around the fork*

Tanya: 😌

MC: *starts chewing*

Tanya, unable to hide her curiosity any longer at the chewing sound: 👀

MC: *some more chewing*

Tanya: 👀

MC: "..."

Tanya: 👀

MC: "..."

Tanya: 👀

MC: *looks up at Tanya with nothing short of agony written all over her face*

Tanya, quickly schooling her face into one of smugness again: 😌

MC, struggling to speak through her mouthful which she has yet to swallow: "It´s..."

Tanya, most attentive now as she´s looking MC dead in the eyes: 👀 "Delicious?"

MC: "..."

Also Tanya: 👀 "Exquisite?"

MC: "..."

Also Tanya: 👀 "Just as expected?"

MC: *finally swallows down her mouthful with great difficulty so she can answer*

Tanya: 👀

MC, who has expected it to be quite horrible indeed: "...I guess you could say that."

Tanya, who has never once doubted her abilities: 😌

Also Tanya, internally: 🤩😍🥰🥴

MC, on the outside: 🥲

MC, on the inside: *already plotting her grand escape from the kitchen*

.

Mistakes were made. Misunderstandings were born.

I MEAN-

Girl was trying, aight?? 😭

.

.

.

Tysm for another one of your lengthy asks! Whenever I answer one of these I feel like we're doing our own lil spin-off à la "Keeping Up With..." 😅🤭

Have a great day and cya at the next one! ❤️

[thecameronchronicles]

Gullible Part 2

PART 1!

TW: Cheating. Smut. Language. Dark!Rafe. Dark themes of manipulation. Semi-public sexual encounter.

SUMMARY: Rafe learns about your decision to leave or stay with your husband.

WORD COUNT: 1700

REQUESTED:

Anonymous asked:

Part 2 of Gullible please please please 🙏🏽 need to know if she left her husband or not ????

Anonymous asked:

I NEED a part 2 of gullible 

I can’t stop thinking of maybe reader did leave her husband and her and rafe show up together at midsummers and make it official but everyone is taking about them and she feels self conscious but rafe cheers her up and they fuck in the bathroom 

Or 

She didn’t leave him and rafe is pissed off about it so he makes up a plan to get caught by her husband 

Gullible Part 2

It had been months since you first uttered those words to him. And yet, the ring remained set in dominance on your left hand. It became a focal point for his glare through the handful of events he was forced to behave, a sharpening of his eyes he didn't care to hide the broadcast. Even as his father nudged him to correct his focus, you were well aware of your lover's dwindling patience. A thin and frail string set to snap at the first instance he'd get you alone. And so for you, the circumstances were simple. Don't be alone with Rafe. 

But much like everything in his life, Rafe had a way of getting what he wanted. 

Between conversations of upcoming charity events and comparing yacht sizes, you excused yourself from the table with the hope of doing so unnoticed. But as always, he noticed. I'm the same scrutinized sharpness he always held you in with observation, and you were taken aback in the belief you evaded him yet again. 

A sudden broad arm projecting before your eyes made you gasp as your eyes darted to the direction of your mutual collection of tax bracket socials just beyond the corner. 

"Rafe..."

"How long are gonna play this game?"

"Game?" You asked as he set his second arm in motion, a slow guidance now pinning you to the wall. Once again, your eye moved in analysis as he was shameless for you now. A thumb parting your lips placed you to motion away from him as he only turned you back to meet his gaze. 

"Did you think I forgot about your little promise to me? Six months until Christmas and you promised you'd be mine...waking up where you couldn't walk...But you keep playing these games and that inability to walk won't be from fucking you." He held your jaw almost sweetly but used his body against yours to weigh you down more aggressively as he leaned his lips to your ear. 

"It will be from tying you to the bed and forcing you to make all those little lies up to me. One edged orgasm at a time...If I'd even let you come at all…"

"It's complicated-"

"You like my cock better than his." He shrugged. "What's complicated about that?" He questioned as his hand managed to move to the skin beneath your skirt as your eyes rolled closed. 

"Or am I wrong and you aren't ruining your poor little panties thinking about how badly you want me to touch you right now..." But where you expected to feel the brush of his hand to your clit, he teased your nipple instead. Yet, it warranted the same parting of your lips. 

"Rafe.."

"Every night without you, I'm left picturing you with him. In bed. Naked." His jaw clenched as he made a sudden grasp for your hair. The delicate bun was disheveled by his grip as you gasped from such dominant motivations. 

"He tries, I'm sure. Why wouldn't he? And you lie to him...telling him you love him...that he's the best you've had...but he doesn't know how you drip for me...how you have for over a year...how you will every time you look at me...even when you don't think I notice. But I do." He pulled at your nipples through the fabric. 

"That blush when you think about my lips on your skin...The way you play with your necklace when you imagine those same fingers wrapped around my dick or mine playing in your panties-"

"Rafe-"

"Tell me I'm wrong that when you bite your bottom lip you aren't thinking of sucking me off..." He tightened his grip in your hair, "Maybe me on my knees for you?"

"Tell me and I'll let you go back to him, needing to use a vibrator just to get off, all while thinking of me." You clenched your jaw. "Or, you can stop playing a Stepford wife and be the whore for me we both know you really are..." 

"Not here...Please..." You urged with your hand gathering the fabric of his shirt. In only a moment's consideration, he tore you by only your wrist and into the bathroom of the country club. Ironically, the first moment he'd touched you this way you had intended to be the last. 

"Rafe-"

"I prefer it when you don't talk until I'm inside you...then I like those little whimpers you make for me-" But as he pushed you towards the vanity, you kept him at bay with a flat palm to his chest. 

"We can't." He paused at your words. 

"You didn't mean it." He slowly began to nod. 

"I did...at the time..." He scoffed. 

"So you went home that night and realized he could make you happy? Ignoring you? Always undermining you. Correcting you...Flirting with every fucking waitress from here to The Cut?" You looked away. 

"I could take care of you-"

"How, Rafe? You can't even take care of yourself." His jaw clenched before you were forced to face the vanity. 

"I don't need to. I can take care of you." He positioned one of your hands to the mirror as the other unlatched his belt from behind. Your eye followed him as your parted lips spoke his name. But before your pleading eyes or whimpers could convince him otherwise, he fisted your skirt high enough to be a threat to your sex once again. 

"Rafe..."

"Nobody knows your body like me. How you like to watch it be fucked. How you like to be told your dirty and bad...a whore..." Your bottom lip was imprisoned by your teeth in an attempt to remain silent. 

"Because for me, you are. And you love that you are. You love how I leave you aching just long enough to remember it. My cologne on your dress and my cum on your tongue....beneath that pretty little manicure... dripping down your thighs...all right under his nose. All while he thinks he has you to himself. Right, baby?"

"Look at you right now," He scoffed, smirking into your cheek as his eyes found yours in the reflection. 

"You want this. And you hate that you do. But you won't leave. Not him. And not me. So you're left with a choice..."

You winced to the withdraw of his cock. 

"You can come now with me. Or leave with him. But if you do..." He dropped to his knees,pulling your panties to your ankles before turning you to face him. 

"You won't get to feel this ever again...let me just remind you..." He angled his mouth against your sex in perfect precision. The heel in which your toes had curled within fell to the floor with an echo as you gripped the vanity behind you. In seconds, your dominant hand came to his hair before he collected it and set it back to the cold marble behind you. 

"Come with me. Or leave with him." He growled between your legs. "I'm not waiting anymore."

"I can't, Rafe!" He withdrew, wiping his mouth and standing over you. 

"What changed?"

"This is sex, Rafe." You confessed, but the truth broadcast behind such teary eyes. You wanted it to be with no strings attached. And yet, from the very moment you felt his kiss and his touch, you came to regret ever meeting your husband. And yet, you didn't want to hurt Rafe. Not anymore than you already had. 

"I don't believe you." He explained, nearly deadpanned to fight his own emotions. 

"You don't have to. But you have to respect it." You collected your wrist and left the bathroom with whatever remaining dignity you could muster before turning to face him one final time. 

But he hadn't expected you to call his bluff. He wasn't prepared to leave the club without you. He believed his touch and words were enough. But as he watched you at the table in the hours that followed, he dulled his anger one drink at a time until his father corrected his recklessness.

"It doesn't happen that fast-" Rafe heard your voice as he stumbled out of the bathroom, leaning against the doorway of a meeting room you'd ignorantly left ajar when speaking to your husband. 

"All you were supposed to do was lay on your back and let him fuck you. Get pregnant so we could extort Ward just like he extorted my father..."

"It's-"

"Did you fall for the kid or something?" You scowled at his choice of adjective as Rafe was anything but inexperienced. Yet to your husband, Rafe was only a stepping stone or an obstacle, depending on the day. 

"I just think there is a different way we can go about it..."

"What changed your mind-"

"You didn't give me much of a-" 

Your husband silenced you with a grip to your jaw. 

"You wanted a baby and the only fucking way I could stand to look at you was to make you useful...but believe me, nobody would miss you if-" Blind rage fueled Rafe as he barrled into the room and surprised you. In seconds, he held your husband by his collar. Without a word, Rafe's knuckles were bruised and bloody by the constant collision made to your husband's face. 

"Rafe!" You pleaded as he now turns to face you. The same anger towards your husband was now directed to you. 

"You wanted a baby?" He almost growled, pleased with his dark intentions as you backed into the table. 

"I'll give you a fucking baby, baby..."

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[mouwrites]

hihi!! Can I get a Stan Marsh X fem! reader whos really quiet but also opinionated on a million things BUT she can't talk about it cause nobody ever bring up feminism in a normal conversation.?

Of course dearest! Sorry this came out a little short ^^"

Word count: 542

South Park - Stan With a Quiet but Opinionated Reader

Stan was scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he reclined on your bed. You were on your own phone next to him with your legs stretched out across his lap. You had both been quiet for a while now, but silence was never uncomfortable between you two. Especially because you weren’t a particularly talkative person, and neither was Stan. So, whenever you were together, you frequently looked just like this: silent, just basking in each others’ presence.

You were scrolling through a particularly outrageous thread of posts on social media. With each post you read, you could feel anger turning in your stomach like a ball of hot lead. You couldn’t believe how ignorant this person was being, and it wasn’t long until you reached your breaking point.

“Idiot,” you grumbled.

Stan looked up. “Who?”

“Not you,” you shook your head, eyes locked on your screen. “This ignorant buffoon. I mean, he’s clearly just babbling. Had he done any real research, he wouldn’t be saying this stuff.”

Curious at your unusual passion, Stan moved over so you were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. You handed him your phone, letting him scroll through the posts himself.

“I mean, he’s the reason why people are so uneducated. They see posts like that and they’re totally misled! I can’t even blame them, really. I can only blame the greedy misers who push this stuff.”

Stan was glancing between the phone and you. He was far more interested in what you were saying, but he pretended to be reading. “I see what you mean.”

“And nobody ever brings it up! How are we supposed to correct people who actually buy this garbage if we don’t talk about it in real life?”

“That does make things difficult.” He put the phone down, cocking his head as he turned his full attention to you. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about this.” Or about anything. She’s so quiet…

You shrugged, taking back your phone. “Like I said, no one brings it up.”

“Is there anything else like that? Stuff that gets you all riled up?” He was eager to see more. That passion in your eyes was captivating. He smirked as an expression of gratitude passed over your face.

“One second. I have some posts saved.”

You spent hours ranting to him about your opinions. Frankly, your attention to detail was impressive; your viewpoints were foolproof. Clearly you’d spent a lot of time ruminating over these things. And researching. You seemed to know everything about both sides of the argument, and you expertly dismantled the opposition. 

“You should join the debate team or something.”

You blinked, turning a little red in the face at the mere idea. You shook your head.

“I’m serious. You’re, like, amazing. I’ve seen politicians with less tact.”

A new passion lit in your eyes. “That’s another thing. So many politicians are so ignorant these days. And why? Because they’re all old men stuck in the 1700s.”

Stan snorted, gearing up to listen to yet another rant. A small smile graced his lips as he watched you ramble. This side of you was undeniably attractive.

No one brings this stuff up, you say? He thought to himself. Well, maybe I’ll have to start doing just that. 

Thank you for the request, and thank you for reading! Take care little starlights <33

(divider by saradika)

[masaotheheckindog]

really getting irritated with how Duolingo is teaching certain words/wording. At this point, it's starting to remind me of being an ALT in both elementary schools and JHS. In elementary, the teachers would sometimes knowingly teach wrong phrasing/wording/romanization with the assurance of 'Well, they'll learn it the right way when they get to JHS' Of course, what ends up happening is that it's much harder to learn the correct way when you've spent years learning something wrong. I'm not talking about prescriptivist grammar type things, I'm talking things that just end up confusing and frustrating people trying to learn a second language. I hesitate to say this because I fear it can be really discouraging for people just getting into a new language, and I definitely don't want to do that. It's hard to find concise language lessons that are easy to digest, and I think what a lot of people would do here is list a bunch of alternatives to Duolingo, but I find lists like that intimidating and unapproachable. Uh, but anyway, if you're interested...

Different things are going to work for different people, but I have exactly one recommendation to anyone trying to learn Japanese (I'm assuming you already know hiragana and katakana, but if not, please learn them. I honestly don't have any advice on where the best place to do that is because I learned them a long time ago), and that is to please learn a good chunk of kanji early on in your studies, and learn to actually write them with the correct stroke order.

I've seen a lot of people say you don't need to do this, that you should just learn to read them because everyone types and there is autofill and yeah, I realize that, but I think you really cement them into your memory by learning to write them. And anyway, you might want to handwrite something one day, I don't know. Maybe you'll want to take Kanken. Anki is free on desktop/laptops/some tablets (I think the mobile version costs), and there's a deck called Kanji Damage that is imo good for learning to write about 1700 kanji. Now that I've finished the deck, learning new kanji beyond that number is a breeze for me. Content warning that it has some offensive language here and there but tbh I don't use the nmemonics anyway (those have never been helpful to me but if making a story about the kanji is helpful to you, you might also want to pick up the Remembering the Kanji series). You can order kanji writing practice notebooks online for pretty cheap or just use a regular notebook. A lot of people see kanji as this huge monumental task that comes towards the end of the journy of learning Japanese but honestly, you should learn it as early as possible. It makes studying grammar, vocabulary, everything so much easier and should be one of the first things you do. With anki, you can set the pace of how many new cards a day you get so you can kind of limit your study time and take it slow, or go with 20 cards a day and you'll finish the deck in about five months (and still only need to study kanji for about an hour a day on your toughest days.) It just depends on your schedule. If you find kanji really intimidating, just do one or two cards a day! It might take longer, but this isn't a race, and however long the deck takes you, you're going to be way better off studying it than if you don't.

[bylightofdawn]

Wooooooooooof one amazing thing about living mostly in tumblr land is the amount of times I have to be mansplained to by obnoxious SW fans is relatively small. Asked a question on a discord because I couldn't find a good Mando word for a trainer or even teacher and wanted to know if there was a conjugated word I was overlooking. Since we have the Cuy'val Dar who were quite literally called training sergeants. And I'm not bitching about the people who offered to help because they were nice to take the time to try and explain. It was more the being talked to like I am a day one SW n00b who needs someone to tell me Jedi can use the Force.

Like are you really going to tell me the Mandalorians are a warlike race and that their martial heritage is strong etc etc. Or that the Cuy'val Dar got their name because they had to go into a decade-long seclusion and super basic shit that yanno I would prolly know since I'm the one bringing them up. Or how I was quite literally quoting how in the Death Watch supplement in Way of the Hunter they were calling their trainers Rally Masters and while that did originate with the Neo Crusaders and that's probably just Death Watch clinging to their legacy but would it be possible it's going to be used in a non Neo-Crusaders/Death Watch scenario.

Would you then turn around and give such a pedantic answer and treat that person like they've never even heard of the Resol'nare? Like I need that shit explained to me? And maybe the problem here is me, maybe I am being bitchy and over-sensitive but after decades on this planet of having people (yes I'm gonna name men especially) talk down to me about Star Wars shit it triggers me a little. And someone please slap me across the internet if I ever come at you sounding pedantic or condescending when trying to explain things because I do not ever want anyone to feel like they are being belittled or womansplained to.

Suffice it to say I had to get the fuck out of there quickly. I still don't have a satisfactory answer sadly. But lesson learned, I guess.

Again I'm not dissing on the people who answered as people, I appreciate them taking time out of their day. I just could have done without the tone I guess. Which is super hard to convey across the internet. My point is if someone comes into a lecture hall asking about the  Great Vowel Shift that happened in middle English between the 1400's and 1700's why are you telling me that the Vikings invaded Brittain and influenced the language.

Like, no SHIT. If that person is asking such a specific thing with such a specific time frame, they prolly already know the Vikings invaded. Also they are in a lecture hall and not asking this in the middle of a pub with their friends. Use some context clues.

Also that was a nerdy as fuck example, I make zero apologies.

And I'm fully willing to admit, maybe I am being an overly sensitive pissbaby here as well.

[hawaii5-0gurl]

Baby Williams

Characters: Danny Williams X Reader, Steve McGarrett, Kono Kalakaua, Chin Ho Kelly, Grace Williams

Word Count: 1700

Warnings: Language, Angst, Birth (non-graphic), Birth complication, Fluff

A/n: I have had this written for a while now, I just got distracted with other fics. 

Feedback is always welcome. The Good and The Bad, it helps me as a writer.

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“Danny!” You were standing in the baby’s room, staring at the crib. It is still in its box, even though you and Danny bought it a month ago. You heard quick footsteps coming up the stairs towards you.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Is it time?” He said as he walked through the door.

“No, but if it was, we wouldn’t be ready.” You said as you turned towards him.

“What are you talking about?” He looked at you confused, you pointed at the crib box. “Oh, I completely forgot. Work had been so busy. I will get it done tonight. I promise, but I have to go to work.

He came up to you and gave you a kiss on your temple before leaving for work. You were still in the baby’s room a little while later. You were organizing and putting things away. The room was done, except for the crib. You had finished washing all of the clothes. While you were folding and putting them away, it was like the box was taunting you. You know that Danny wanted to put it together a long time ago. You know how busy and hard working for Five-0 is, so when he comes home, he is tired.

“Alright box, you win.” You walked over to the box, laying it down on the ground before getting to work.

After about six hours of sitting and moving around, you were putting the final bolt in. You decided to lay down on the small rug in the middle of the floor. After a few minutes you heard the door open.

“Y/n! Where are you?” You heard yell from downstairs.

“Nursery!” You yelled back. You closed your eyes, taking in the quiet. Putting together the crib this late in your pregnancy, probably wasn’t the best idea.

You had been feeling some pain in your stomach. You just brushed it off as Braxton-Hicks’s contractions. You and Danny had that rush to the hospital a few weeks ago.

“Y/n.” You heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Y/n!”

Danny was next to you instantly when he saw you on the floor.

“Why are you yelling?” You opened one of your eyes to look at him.

“Why are you on the floor? Did you fall or…” He looked away from you to the side of the room. “Did you put the crib together?” He quickly looked back to you. You had a grin on your face.

“Maybe… I know when you come home, you are tired from busting your ass at work. I wanted to help and get it done.”

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“I’m not fragile. I have been working out and still doing almost all the same stuff I was doing before.”

“Yes, but you’re still pregnant. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to come home and find you in a bad situation, that you have been in for hours.”

“I’m sorry.” You moved your hand to his face. In an attempt to calm his nerves. You knew it was working when he leaned into your hand.

“Come on, lets get you up and get you two something to eat.” He got up and moved to help you up.

You grabbed his hands, but as you were almost standing, a surg of pain went through your stomach. You instantly dropped to your knees. Letting go of one of Danny’s hands to grab your stomach. You let out a groan and realized that your water broke.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He was down on his knees, cradling your head with his hands, “You need to talk to me babe.”

“Time.” You looked him in the eyes as you said it.

“Time?” It took him a moment to realize what you had meant. “You mean baby time?” You nodded. “Well let’s go.”

Danny helped you slowly up and down the stairs. Grabbing your hospital bag on the way. He got you to the car and took off like a mad man.

“Honey.” You looked at him.

“Yeah.”

“Slow down.”

“What do you mean slow down? You need to get to the hospital.”

“I know that, but I want to get there in one piece. So slow down. The baby isn’t going to come instantly. We have some time.”

Danny slowed down just enough to appease you. Things started getting more uncomfortable, the longer you had sat there. Your contractions were getting closer together, but you were trying to stay as calm as you could as Danny pulled into the emergency lane in front of the hospital. He quickly got out and ran inside to get a nurse and a wheelchair.

When they were running back out to you, you had the car door open and had your legs out ready to get up. Danny leaned into the car to wrap his arm around you. As you got out of the car a contraction coursed through your body. It was stronger than any of the previous contractions. Your hand was instantly gripped onto his shoulder to brace yourself. Your head was in his chest, to try and muffle the scream. If Danny wasn’t holding onto you, there was no doubt in your mind that you would have ended up on the ground.

“It’s okay sweetheart, I’ve got you.” You moved your hand to the back of his neck, while the other was holding onto his bicep.

“I… I can’t. It hurts so bad.”

“Hey.” He moved one of his hands to your face, making you look at him. “Yes, you can. You are one of the toughest women I have ever met. I know I’m not going to be much help, but I will be by your side the whole time.”

“Okay.”

He moved you slowly to the wheelchair, making sure you are as comfortable as you can be before wheeling you inside. The nurses got you checked in immediately and had you in a room within ten minutes. You were still feeling super uncomfortable, they had to put towels around your stomach because the baby kept trying to move out of the birthing position. It was causing you to become even more uncomfortable.

“Y/n?” Danny got up from his chair, walked over to you and placing his hand on your forehead. “Honey you are burning up.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” He pushed the call nurse button on your bed, and a few seconds later one came running into your room.

“Are you okay Y/n?”

“No, she’s burning up.”

The nurse walked to one of the cabinets and grabbed a thermometer and swiped it over your forehead.

“Oh no.” The nurse called in a doctor and another nurse to check on you.

They started an iv and brought in ice packs and put them around you. The doctor checked on the baby to make sure they were all right and to see how dilated you were. You were only eight centimeters dilated, so you had a while to wait. Danny had already called Steve to let him know what was going on and that there was a possibility that he wouldn’t be into work tomorrow. He of course told him to take a few days off to be there for you and the baby.

What you didn’t expect was for him and the rest of the team to show up. You allowed them in your room, they were only able to talk to you for a little bit before the doctor came into check on you. You were fully dilated, and it was time to push. They quickly exited the room leaving you, Danny, the doctor, and nurses.

About twenty minutes later, you baby boy was born. You were exhausted but so happy. You fever was gone but they still wanted you to stay in the hospital for a day to make sure everything was okay.

You were just watching Danny walk around the room with your son in his arms. He looked so small in Danny’s arms. You were so content in this moment; you didn’t want it to end but you know that the team of uncles and aunt were waiting to meet the newest member of the family.

“Danny.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t even look at you he was just so focused on his son.

“I think it’s time.”

“What?” Now he was looking at you like you just kicked his puppy. “No, can they wait a little longer.”

“No.” You shook your head at him. “I don’t want Steve busting in here to see him. Come on.” You waved him over, reaching for the baby. He just stood there for a moment watching the two of you.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He leaned over and kissed the side of your head.

“I love you too.”

He walked out of the room to get everyone, coming back a minute later. Grace was the first one through the door. She had the biggest smile on her face.

“Y/n.” She came over and hugged you, while the rest filed into the room.

“Hey Grace.”

“Can I sit with you?”

“Sure.” You moved over enough to let her sit next to you.

“Is this my baby brother?”

“Yes, he is.”

“He’s so little.”

You let out a chuckle before looking up over to see everyone staring at you. You adjusted your son in your arms and turned so everyone could see him.

“Everyone this is Hayden Steven Williams.” You looked directly at Steve when you said his middle name. You saw a huge smile on his face, before he turned to Danny and hugged him.

“You named him after me?” Looking between the two of you.

“Well, I wanted his first name to be Steven but Mr. Grumpy pants over there said no. That’s why it’s his middle name.”

“I am not grumpy.”

“Yeah, you are.” Everyone said in unison, then laughter erupted.

“Can I hold him, please?” Steve walked to the side of your bed.

“Of course.”

You handed little Hayden over to Steve and looked around as everyone surrounded him. This little boy is only hours old, and he is already so loved. You couldn’t ask for anything more than this.

Tags:

Ohana (Everything):

@camillyb @gurkiloni @wanniiieeee @fanfictionaddiction99 @coffeewithoutcaffeine @darkastartarus @daniig95

@Beavery2 (Still cant tag you)

@lizcookie1 (Can’t Tag you)

[anlian-aishang]

i was wondering if i could do a priority request? i know that you have a lot, i got my heart broken for the second time today and i was wondering if i could have some levi comfort? it can be anything, thank you so much

Hello, dear anon! I am so sorry that you had a rough day and that this took me so long to get to. I hope this makes your day today a little bit easier <3

Word count: 1700 Tags: sfw, fluff, canonverse, she/her pronouns reader

Erwin, Hange, his squad, the other veterans, and all of the new recruits were on their hard-earned leave. When asked why he was not taking his, he always stated that someone had to keep an eye on the place. The truth, though, was that he had no use for those vacation days. No family to go home to, all his friends would be with their families, where would he go - who would he see while on vacation? His idea of relaxing was taking naps, reading books, tidying up, all of which he could do in the empty barracks while saving his time off - in hopes of reaching a period where he could actually make use of it.

He was wearing his cleaning outfit, happy to be free of the usual points and giggles that came with it, as he swept the halls of the women's quarters. This was the only time of year he would go through it, as it was the only time of year it was empty, and thus the only time of year he could guarantee it would get a worthy clean.

It was why you both were startled to find each other.

Levi, who heard crying from down the way. You, who heard his approach as familiar clacks of boots on hardwood.

A lazy shut behind you earlier had left your bedroom door ajar. You thought you were here completely alone and that there was no need to shut the door. That was until two fingers knocked, inadvertently opening it as well.

The last person you ever wanted to see you like this.

In the split second that he entered your room, you instinctually saluted - neglecting to wipe your tears, sniff your nose, hide the evidence of your crying. “Captain.”

He disregarded the fist at your chest, attention focused on your other features. “Hey. Are you alright?”

A rhetorical question. It did not take much time nor thought for him to discern the truth. The clear streaks down your face, the slight tremble in your lip. On top of it all, no roommates there to console you. The five other bunk beds were neatly made and empty - their inhabitants enjoying their time away. On the other hand, yours looked crumpled - as if you had not left it all day, and it was 3 PM.

“No, I just…” your voice trailed. What were you going to say? Did you want to tell him about it? Was it right to admit your weaknesses to your superior?

Your inner debate, he could practically hear it. Levi held his broom and nodded slowly. A silent I see.

He was always asked Why aren’t you taking time off? and had always been annoyed by it. He knew better than to ask the same to you, especially when you were so clearly upset. At the same time, though, he could not and would not stand idly by.

A hand on your door knob, a pivot to leave. “Meet me out front. Five minutes. Casual wear.”

It was your day off, you could have argued against it, but for some reason, you did not think to. In the end, he was your captain. Obeying his orders thus far, for this many months, had kept you alive all that time. Not to mention, it was not like you had anything better to do.

It might even be fun.

// // //

Why did you feel lost?

Why did it feel so new?

He was just taking you downtown, the farmers’ market, where you went twice a week for groceries. But something about today, how he led the way and you followed, made this regular trip feel new and exciting.

You found that the gazes of citizens were kinder than usual. Maybe, without that uniform, they recognized you as one of them - rather than the bloodthirsty soldiers that the Scouts were often called. Or maybe it was that he was by your side. Humanity’s strongest and his partner, insane would one have to be to throw stones your way. Whatever this was, you could get used to it.

It was a comfortable silence between the two of you - children's laughter, vendors calling, and city bells filled the air. You both refrained from speaking, but it was not quiet. You did not say much, but much was conveyed. The lack of conversation allowed you to observe traits about him that you might have otherwise missed. You picked up the little things because of how much they surprised you. Levi said please, thank you, and keep the change at each stand that you stopped at. He was polite, generous, and all the characteristics you never predicted at first glance.

Nearing halfway around the square, you figured now just as good a time as any to speak up, before the courage left you.

“So,” you cleared your throat, “Captain?”

He turned over his shoulder, briefly, “Levi’s fine.”

“R-Right.” You swallowed, giving yourself a second to remember and adjust to his new title - or lack thereof, “Levi.”

A couple more paces before you spoke up again, “We’re just here… shopping for food?”

“No one’s on cooking duty.” He blinked. “We have to eat, don’t we?”

Previous years, he made himself the bare minimum while others were away, but he knew that basic pasta and peanut butter and jelly were not going to cut it if he were going to help you the way he wanted to.

You filled in the blanks and pieced his words together, understanding that all he had bought was for you two to share.

And with that, a hurried reach into your wallet, feeling around for cash. “Oh my gosh, umm…” Only a first-level private, the forage for dollars was not an easy one. “Please let me help -”

Strong hand reached out, just an inch away from yours, motioning for the search to halt. “Don’t worry about it.”

It was both policy and logic: superiors were to take care of their subordinates’ basic needs, he was of a higher position and thus a higher salary. That was how he explained it to you, but his true reasoning was more personal than that. He was happy to provide, especially given that you were having a bad day.

Throughout the rest of the walk, your attention subconsciously drifted from the  buildings and the buzz to the one lone man at your side. Even his purchases were out of your field of vision.

You noticed how perfectly his undercut was shaved - no unevenness, but also how choppy his bangs were. Biting on your knuckle, you stifled a laugh. The idea of him styling his haircut was too ridiculous, too adorable.

He had told you casual clothes, his grey longsleeve and black jeans matched that, but who irons their street clothes? You nearly rubbed your eyes to make sure you were not imagining it, but there were undeniable presses and folds in his cotton. Detailed, thoughtful, that was how he spent his time.

On one hand, you could count the times he had smiled in the day, but many more were the subtle hints of emotion that only those closest to him would catch. How he pointed out the alley cats, it was a sign of his amusement. When he saw a lone child and deliberately scanned for a nearby parental figure, he had a soft spot for kids. You had not been with him long enough to recognize it strange, but his added buys of chocolate, butter, milk, and eggs were irregular for his usual list.

The lap finally made, the sun finally setting, it was nearing dinner time.

“You getting hungry yet?”

“Mmm…” It was something you were reluctant to admit, not wanting to disrupt any of the plans he had in mind, but something about him just seemed so genuine, you felt comfortable enough to admit. “Yeah, just a little.”

And you swore that you caught just that slightest bit of a smile, the tiniest tinge in his voice, “Perfect.”

// // //

He knew this recipe by heart. If not for you, he could have even gone without measuring cups. However, he was completely thorough today. He wanted you to remember it.

Levi would get the brownies in the oven first, and while they baked for just over 30 minutes, that would be enough time to prepare dinner. If all fell into place, which he fully intended, you would finish eating dinner just in time for the brownies to have cooled - a seamless transition to dessert and the rest of the night.

Just the two of you in this kitchen, out of uniform and in comfy clothes, the hearth of the fire, for just a second, it almost felt like home. How ridiculous the thought was. The cafeteria was of an old and worn wood, not the least bit welcoming. The oven was industrial and the stovetop massive, meant to feed many more mouths than were here now. Both of you were miles from home and without any family members. Technically, you supposed, you were roommates - albeit that of a very large property, but in your heart - at least for now - it felt like more than that.

It was one of the last steps - ensuring that the batter was spread evenly throughout the tray. There was nothing left for him to explain, making the space between you silent once again.

“Levi?”

His response was wordless, merely a glance up from the countertop to you.

Twiddling your fingers, you felt you did not have the right to ask him anything, especially after all he had done for you throughout the day. You could totally see him snapping back as your authority, but you also could not stave off your curiosity any longer. Worn was your filter, completely unironed, “Why are you doing this?”

Levi met your eye contact steadily, his unwavering attention both nerve wracking and comforting. He spoke flatly, but something about his tone made you yearn for more. “It’s part of my job - to keep my soldiers well.”

That was the truth, but not the whole truth. He was not sure you were ready for it.

It was only your first date, after all.

levi masterlist // main masterlist

[dreamypqulson]

— chasing stars

summary: you’ve fallen madly in love with your best friend, harriet. although when she takes you to her press conference for her new movie, things don’t go as planned.

pairing: harriet hayes x reader

word count: 1700

warning: homophobia, internalized homophobia.

Being Harriet's best friend isn't always easy for you. When you first came out to her, she supported you, she didn't agree with it but she supported you. It was terrifying to do so because Harriet has been your best friend for god knows how long, she helped you through so many things in your life and at this point, you don't think you could even live without having her in your life.

But being in love with her was a whole different story.

You've always pushed those feelings for your best friend away thinking maybe it was just a passing thing or maybe if you ignored them then they would just go away but they never did. So you always just sucked it up. When she calls you, asking you to help her get ready for date with another guy, you rush right over and help although deep in your heart you secretly wish that she was getting ready for a date with you.

But the thing is, when you came out to her, all the questions that she would get about her opinion on homosexual relationships, she would ignore them, act like she wasn't asked that. You knew it was most likely because she had loved you that much that she didn't want to tell the whole world it was a sin and lose her best friend but apart of you hoped for a different answer.

"How do i look?" You stood behind her, both looking it the mirror as she finished patting down her dress. "Beautiful" you could write a whole novel on just how beautiful Hannah Harriet Hayes looks but you kept it simple. "Well i can say the same for you" she turned towards you, running her hands over the sides of your dress. A blush rose on your cheeks and you almost choked on absolutely nothing.

She was taking you to a press conference that she had to do and truth be told, you were terrified because you didn't want any of the press to ask if you were her date, you couldn't handle hearing her say that two letter word. But when Harriet asked you to go, how could you decline her offer. Whenever she asks you something, you do it like a fool.

Silence took over the room. You were staring into her brown eyes, her hands were on your sides and you thought that if this had lasted any longer than you would've caved in and kissed her. But then she shook her head like she was trying to wake herself up from a daydream. "We should get going" and luckily she had already began walking and didn't wait for you to answer because with this lump in your throat, your words would've came out inaudible.

When you both arrived, the press immediately hit you both with questions as you walked in. You weren't as famous as Harriet, you do one sketch a week on Studio 60 but of course they wanted to know who Harriet would be walking in with.

You ignored all of their questions just like Harriet told you too. Either way, everyone's voice and clicking of cameras went fuzzy when you felt Harriet tightly grab your hand. She had held your hand before but this just felt different. You almost froze for a moment and Harriet looked back at you, mouthing an "are you okay" with a worried face and when your nodded, you both continued to walk into the building, away from the crowd.

"Are you sure you're okay, your face looks like it's burning up sweetheart" you cleared your throat "I'm fine it's just hot in here" she smiled at you albeit she clearly didn't believe you but brushed it off anyways.

You both took your seat in the crowd and waited for them to start. You could tell Harriet was getting a little nervous so you decided to be bold and grab her hand. You held your breath until she smiled at you, you were scared that she would be uncomfortable with you being the one to hold her hand considering her beliefs.

"You're gonna do great" you whispered as the host began to speak. She took a moment to observe every inch of your face with that little smile before she spoke "i'm glad you're here with me" and she gave your hand a squeeze.

Your heart clenched, if only she knew what that meant to you. But you couldn't even over think about everything that has happened tonight; all the long stares into each other's eyes or the hand holds and kind words and even the fact that she brought you tonight instead of some guy, before she was getting called on stage.

"You got this" You said, loud enough for only Harriet to hear but it was almost like you were saying it to yourself. You couldn't take your eyes off that blonde, as she walked on stage and the way her dress would sway with each of her movements, you weren't paying attention to all of the other people in the crowd, only Harriet, it was always only Harriet.

You missed having Harriet hold your hand, sitting right beside you and having her body warmth mix with yours but now, you get a chance to stare at her so dreamily without seeming like a weirdo.

And throughout the entire thing, you listened to her sweet voice and how perfectly and on point she answers the questions. That was until the very last question.

"Harriet, how do you feel about homosexual relationships" the reporter asked. She took a moment before answering, the room was dead silent and you were sure that everyone could hear your heart beating like crazy. You wiped your sweaty palms on the side of your leg and took a deep breath.

"I think it's a sin" she said. You could actually feel your heart tore into a million pieces right there. "I don’t think it’s right to marry someone the same gender as you." The look of regret of her face as she found your flushed face in the crowd, as she was met with your glassy eyes, the look was unforgettable, you were sure it was going to be engraved in your brain.

You couldn't sit here, you had to get out, you needed air. So, you quickly ran out of the building with your head down low so no one would suspect a thing.

How could you be so stupid, so stupid to think you actually had a chance with Harriet. All those nights where she held you in her arm when you came over for a movie night or when she just stared into your eyes and tucked your hair behind your ear, that was just all a friendly gesture.

You leaned against the back of the brick building, for once there wasn't paparazzi crowding the area so you finally allowed your face to fall into your hands as your sobs took ahold of you. You felt so foolish that you allowed Harriet to squirm her way into your heart like this. Harriet would always hold you whenever you were upset, now you were just alone. It was all just a game of jenga; it was fun and games until it everything just collapsed.

"Y/n" You could hear Harriet's voice call out to you but you couldn't respond. You couldn't do anything but sob like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted. "Y/n please" her voice was much closer this time, she sounded so desperate to get to you but why should you give her the time of day.

"I'm so sorry" she was crying. You hated her for crying, she shouldn't get to cry over this. But even still, you couldn't hate Harriet herself and you wondered what it would've been like if you got to her before that bible saying did.

"Leave me alone Harriet" your voice was so cold and you began walking away from her but your could hear her footsteps following behind you. "Y/n talk to me please." You didn't want to yell at Harriet, even after what she said but you couldn't help it. "Harriet, I said leave me alone!" You stopped to turn around. You were sure that everyone in the building could've heard.

You paused to look up at her. You never seen her look so upset, so taken back in your life and still, it broke your heart. Everything she did was slowly breaking your heart. "I didn't mean what i said" she said, slowly and hesitantly moving closer to you.

That loving, dreamy look that you always gave her was gone, it was just cold and emotionless. "It slipped off your tongue pretty fucking easy huh?" she gulped "i didn't know what else to say" you scoffed and shook your head in utter disbelief before you began to walk away from her. It was over, you couldn't recover from that.

"Wait" She said but you didn't stop "I said it to cover up" that stopped you albeit you didn't turn around and allow her to see just how much she got to you. "I love you and i'm scared of that" in all honesty, you didn't even know how to react to that. You loved her and hearing those words come out of her mouth did certainly make your heart feel fuzzy but you couldn't get passed what she had said.

So, you turnt around just like she wanted you to. She looked scared, scared that she messed everything up, scared that somehow you wouldn't accept her even though deep down she knew you would and that there was no possible way that you couldn't. "Harry-" you said, watching tears began to heavily stream down her face "i'm sorry but i can't live this lie anymore" she said, looking down and wrapping her arms around herself as if that was some way to escape from this situation, way to escape from this world.

"Don't be sorry for that Harry" you began walking closer to her again "look at me" she didn't react but you were sure that she just couldn't hear you over her sobs, so, you gently grabbed her chin, moving her head up so you were face to face "do not be sorry" you repeated, making your words clear so she could fully understand you and get that in her head.

The confused face on why you weren't mad that she just admitted her feelings to you was clearly visible so you wouldn't let her wait any longer "i love you" her face softened "i've loved you for so long" you cupped her cheek, slowly wiping away the tear stains on her face "can i kiss you?" Her words were stuck in her throat so all she could do was nod before she felt your lips collide with her own.

It was everything you had dreamed of. You couldn't even feel the ground beneath your feet anymore, you felt weightless, you felt like you were flying way up into the clouds with your one true love, your soulmate, Hannah Harriet Hayes.

"I love you so much, my love" you said against her lips. Neither of you cared that the paparazzi was slowly gathering closer to the both of you "i love you too y/n, i always will."

Taglist: @loverofallthingssarah @goodeday2u

[tuiccim]

Terrigenisis (Part 17)

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 1700

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: a god of Mischief (He’s a warning, okay?)

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist       Divider by @firefly-graphics

You lounged on the lawn furniture in the back of the compound watching Dizzy run in joyful circles as Redtail made loops overhead. You had brought a tennis ball out and Dizzy was adorable as she ran around with it in her mouth. Occasionally, she’d drop it in your laugh and you’d throw it out into the expanse of lawn. You laughed as she leapt into action each time the ball was thrown. Redtail would swoop down every now and then to tease the dog. 

The rest of the team was out on missions or meetings. Sam, Steve, and Bucky had been sent on a mission yesterday afternoon and you were enjoying some down time. It felt like it had been some time since it had happened. You stretched lazily, basking in the feel of the sun on your skin and the feeling of contentment. 

You hear footsteps approaching and turn to see Loki walking towards you. He had been in a meeting with Thor, Tony, and Maria Hill when you had checked earlier. 

“Hi. How’d the meeting go?” You greet the god. 

“It went well. Nothing of grave importance,” Loki takes the chair next to you, “What are you up to?”

“Relaxing in this glorious weather,” you see his eyes take in your tank top, jean shorts, and sandals. “You know, I’ve never seen you in anything except the leather. Is there casual wear on Asgard?”

“Simple tunics and robes but, as prince and warrior, I do not wear them often.” Loki raises an eyebrow at you. 

“I see. What about for Tony’s party this weekend? Will you wear this?” you motion to his attire.

“I plan to wear a suit.” Loki chuckles. 

“I look forward to seeing that. Isn’t the leather hot though? It’s 80 today.” 

“I could strip for you if you’d like.” Loki smirks playfully. 

“That’s okay,” you hold your hands up in defeat. 

“Is this better?” Loki’s form shimmers for a moment before revealing him in bermuda shorts and hawaiin shirt. 

You grin, “I like it! You look ready for a beach vacation.” You stare at Loki for a moment, wondering about his personal life. He knew a lot about you but rarely revealed much about himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling. Anything.”

“Do you have… someone? Here or on Asgard or… somewhere?” you stammer through the question. 

“Your two lovers are not enough for you?” Loki chuckles. 

“They’re plenty for me. You don’t talk about yourself much, Lok. I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to but I’m curious about you. We’re friends and so I wonder, is there someone? Are you a player? Are you a monk? You know my story. You haven’t given me much of yours. Have you ever been in love?”

Loki studies you for a moment and then nods as if deciding something to himself, “I suppose I would be what you Midgardians refer to as a player.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em?” you giggle. 

“I suppose. There’s only ever been one person who…” Loki trails off. 

“Who what?” 

“Who I thought I could fall for.”

“What happened?” You question. 

“She belongs to another.” Loki says as he looks away. 

“She belongs only to herself.” You counter. 

“Of course. She’s engaged to another.” 

“I’m sorry.” You tell him. 

“Thank you.” Loki pauses to contemplate before asking, “Are you happy? You’ve been through a lot in your short life.”

You smile at the statement, “I’m not that young, Loki.”

“I’m over 1000 years old.” Loki deadpans. 

“True,” you laugh, amazed at the lifespan of Asgardians, “Yes. I am happy. This isn’t what I imagined my life to be. Terrigenisis tore my world apart but you make the best of what you have. I have a family in the team, lovers in Steve and Bucky, friends, a purpose. This is… home.”

“And I’m your friend?” Loki asks. 

“Of course you are.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll betray you at some point? I mean, I am notorious.” 

“I trust you, Loki. I think I know your heart, but understand that I live by the statement, ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’ I may let someone make a fool of me once but I won’t let them a second time. Once you lose my trust, it’s gone and would take a great deal to earn it back,” you explain. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I have to trust you. I’m letting you play with my brain.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Giving me a chance. Trusting me. Seeing me as something other than the villain that I was.”

“You’re more than your past. Oh!” you exclaim when a slobber covered ball is dropped in your lap. “Hi Dizz.” you laugh and throw the ball for her. 

“She has you well trained.” Loki smirks. 

“That she does. Speaking of training, are you up for another session?” you ask. 

“Same time as always, darling. I’ll see you then.” Loki gets up. 

“See ya later, friend,” you watch as Loki walks back to the building, dropping the glamour to reveal his normal outfit as he walks. He sends you a brief wave before walking into the building. Your attention is pulled away when Dizzy drops the ball in your lap again. Time to play. 

--

You get to the training room early to do some climbing and ended up in the rafters as you were known to do. You were just about to climb down when Loki entered with Thor trailing behind him. 

“Drop it, brother,” Loki grouses at him. 

“Just tell me you aren’t playing at anything with her and I will,” Thor demands. 

“Mortals are your weakness,” Loki rolls his eyes at his brother. 

“Love is not weakness, Loki.”

“I do not feel that way about her. She is a friend. Much like Sif is to you.” Loki says pointedly.

“That’s all I wanted, brother,” Thor smiles. 

You clear your throat loudly, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

Loki looks up at you in amusement, “How long have you been there?”

“Well before you came in,” you wink at him. 

Thor looks at you sheepishly, “I’ll let you two get to your training.”

“Okay. See ya later,” you are holding in your giggle as you make your way to the climbing rope and jump to it. When you slide to the floor, you look into Loki’s mischievous eyes and you both burst into laughter. When it’s spent you say dramatically, “Loki! I can no longer control myself. I must swoon into your arms!” You pretend to faint against him and he catches you. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Loki narrows his eyes at you. 

“Yup! And you, my friend, are stuck with me!” You stand back up.

“You know that won’t be the last time someone will make the insinuation.” Loki says quietly.

“People have a hard time believing a man and woman can be just friends,” you shrug.

“That is true. Can I ask you something?” Loki asks. 

“Of course.”

“Hypothetically, would you have been able to fall in love with me if…” Loki trails off. 

“I don’t think I would let myself fall in love with any Asgardian,” you admit.

“Why?”

“How old are you, Loki?” 

“A little over a thousand years.”

“Exactly. Asgardians live for around 5,000 years, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why. Humans live maybe 80 years. That’s a blink in comparison. I’ve lost a lot of people who are important to me in my life. I don’t think I could purposely put someone through that. Falling for an Asgardian, letting them fall for you, would mean making them watch you die while they live on for millenia. I don’t think I could do that to someone, ever. It’s difficult enough being friends and knowing that. Being lovers, it would be unbearable.”

Loki nods, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

You smile at him, glad he understands. “How about we get to work?”

“Let’s go, darling.”

Over the past week, you had worked up to slipping into Loki’s mind without the unbearable pain. It still caused a headache but you were able to see through his eyes and communicate in a similar fashion to how you did with animals. Today, you were attempting to take control of Loki’s movement. It wasn’t easy. Just lifting his hand took a toll. You drop the warg after a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” Loki looks concerned. 

“It’s difficult. The pain is worse,” you explain.

“Why don’t you warg and I’ll do some magic? Just play around a bit.” 

“Okay. Sounds fun,” you warg back into Loki. He begins doing some simple tricks and you watch in delight. You try to concentrate on the motions he makes, the feel of the magic flowing through him, and his thought process as he works. A picture flashes in Loki’s mind and you catch a glimpse of a beautiful face before he forces it away. 

“Does she know?” You ask in his head.

“What?” Loki hedges. 

“Does she know?” you drop the warg.

“No.” Loki says. 

“Then she’s not.”

“Not what?”

“She’s not lost to you. How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way?” you push. 

“She… I… I don’t… She couldn’t-”

“Oh, I’m gonna stop you right there. She could. She really could, but if you never told her how you feel, what’s she supposed to do?”

“She’s engaged.” Loki insists.

“She’s not married, Loki. You should tell her. Wouldn’t it be better to know?”

“What?”

“At least then you’d know. Either she doesn’t and you have closure to move on. Or she does and you two can figure it out. ‘Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all’, right? Better to say it and know than to spend the next few millennia wondering,” you needle. 

“I…” Loki falters with a far away look in his eyes. 

“Just promise me you’ll think about it.” 

“I will.” Loki nods.

“Good,” you see Loki’s concentration is completely gone, “Why don’t we leave it for today?”

“Oh. Yes, good. I’ll see you later.” Loki walks away lost in thought. 

“Later, loverboy,” you whisper with a chuckle to yourself.

Part 18

Tuiccim’s Masterlist

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