#jag is a big family man

[just-some-user-hunny]

The Cannibal bonded with a bastard targaryen reader ...

This is heavily inspired by @mangled-parasite writings on their yandere hotd stuff. I wanted to go more in depth about the relationship a bastard princess reader would have with the cannibal, because the dynamics could be so diverse and interesting. The cannibal is a really interesting dragon to me as well, he's not been tames nor shows any interest in it, so I always wonder what he'd be like with a rider!

(fem! Bastard princess reader X the cannibal)

. If you are bonded to him, he would be ruthlessly protective over you. He can feel every flicker of distress and discomfort from you, and he bares his teeth like a guard dog at whoever draws too close. Once he had decided that you were his, and he was yours, his fury when it comes to protecting you rivals hellfire. You will never have to feel fear again, nothing can even dream of touching you- lest they want to experience the nightmarish wrath of the Cannibal. It matters little to him if this threat is human, or dragon. In fact he almost welcomes it. He loves the rush of destroying whatever threatens you, the pride that fills him when he charres their remains and feasts upon them In front you- because look princess. Look how mighty he is, look how well he can fight and protect you. After his gory feast, he'll lower himself close to your little form for his praise- purring till your blood fizzles as he enjoys your pets and attention.

. Cannibal has never been a tame or passive dragon, but around you, he'll make an effort to behave. He'll stave away his urges to salivate when he captures glimpses of the smaller dragons, if it makes you happy. He'll heed your voice, your words, if only to amuse you and keep you content. However, he still has a temper- and although he may not engulf everything with wildfire, he will surely growl and roar to make people bend their knee in your presence. His bond to you is tightly knitted, so he can pick up those who are irking you or upsetting you. He shares your hatred for your father, often bearing his frightening jagged teeth at the pale man who can only endure the monstrosity of his daughter's dragon. It'll take only your word to engulf him in burning emerald flames, so for once, your father will hold his tongue.

. He is not an obedient dog, more like a feral alley cat who's taken a warming to you. There's not a force in heaven or hell that can convince him to confide anywhere near the dragon pits, not to mention his monstrous size cannot even imagine squeezing itself into that little ditch. He'll take to sleeping upon the beach, preferably away from vhager, if he wants to remain close to you. However he is known to fly off and disappear for days on end, returning when you least expect it. He is a wild dragon at heart.

. He may not melt into a big passive puppy, but he will surely let you know he likes the attention you give him. He'll croon with his snarling scarred grin, his eyes glinting as you speak to him and stay close. The attitude he has around you is stark like night and day- with others he glares ferociously and mean, but with you, he's bound by your heels.

When you approach him upon the sand of the tide, he'll lower his head to gaze upon you. he'll feel content as he looks you over, appearing docile and calm in your presence.

Your family find it terrifyingly odd whenever you approach him with so much casualty, and he simply looks at you so fondly. The dragon who has devoured oh so many wannabe dragon tamers is now treating you like a precious little treasure, and it's both awe-inspiring, and frightening. His striking emerald green eyes focus on you as you speak sweetly and softly to him, his purrs can be heard from the dragonstone gates.

. The cannibal is an ancient dragon with many years of experience, so to him, you are little more than a child in his eyes. His child.

If anything, he is more of a loving father to you than Daemon could ever be.

It's puzzling to him, at first. He has never possessed a single maternal bone in his body, having no objection to devouring unhatched eggs and even young hatched dragons to satiate his hunger- but perhaps he sees a part of him in you. That wildness to stray, the desperation to free yourself from the thorns of the targarians that dig deep into you. You may be a little gentle weepy thing, but the fact still stands. You want to be free. He can grant that.

As you claim him as a child, he'll watch you grow. Watch your face and hands become weary from the anxiety and ache of constantly being caged. You'll gradually become more and more beautiful, dripping in gems and jewellery and ornate gowns, but the sadness in your eyes hasn't changed since you were a tearful little child. He sees what they are doing- trying to keep you satiated with material desires, but he understands you deep down that nothing of that matters. You want to be anywhere else but here...

. He is an old dragon, and has a temper to him. His hunger for flesh and fire has not made him weary, and although he is scarred and withered, he is still towering in all his obsideon scaled glory. Emerald flames engulfing the sky as you ride upon his back, soaring above the clouds as pride and glory consumes him. He always despises the idea of being 'claimed' and ridden like some show pony, but he finds himself enjoying the company of his little human experiencing the rush of gliding through the heavens. He can feel your thundering heart, the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he dips and soars between terrific heights, and he can't help but grin a scarred and twisted smile, egged on by your delight of the views and freedom. Yes! This is freedom, my little princess. Let us not be chained by those targarians, this is what living is!

He certainly likes challenging you, obviously not to the point he puts you in any danger of course- but he'll dive at gut churning speeds to see what'll make you shriek. It's almost like He finds amusement out of it, perhaps getting a little kick out of challenging his rider. Once he has landed however with you safely back on the ground, he'll look at you with his gnarled smirk and expect just a little push from you. Don't take it to heart though, his princess. You'll get gently prodded and nudged by his snout to check on you to make sure you're alright. He is still protective over you, after all. His cruelty will not extend to your pain. Besides, you are more often than not riding him bareback, so he would never fly so recklessly that you'd get bucked off. Most of the time he's holding back, really.

. That is not to say that each time you climb upon his back that you will endure terror, because that is surely not the case. He loves flying with you, loves feeling your awe and wonder. It fills him with unbridled pride and ego. You can both feel freedom, and freedom is all he wants for himself and his rider alike.

. As his rider, you have a good chance of escaping the talons of your family. Who is to stop you? The mad prince, Daemon, and his blood wyrm? Cannibal could laugh at the mere thought of this deranged man challenging him with his little red pest. Even the one eyed prince and his ancient she-dragon, Vhagar, will be a welcomed challenge. When it comes to you, he'd do anything.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Between Fire and Stone

Daemon Targaryen/Strong!female

summary: anxious about her approaching union to Aemond, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen seeks comfort | word count: 2.8k~ | warnings: incest, reader is described with strong features, fingering, p in v sex, arranged marriage, Daemon being a cheeky cunt

A/N: idek what I was on to write this cos I'm not usually a Daemon girlie but here we are besties. Tysm @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for beta-ing 😘 appreciate you

The cold mist nipped at the skin around her ankles, a shiver running up her spine as she struggled through the jagged rock towards the Dragonmont. Her fingers brushed against the stark stone for balance, the other holding the lit torch to light her way before her in the darkness.

It was one of her favourite things, taking a stroll through Dragonstone in the hour of the wolf. Peaceful. Quiet. Something she could have all for herself. Away from the prying of her maidservants and the overbearing boisterous nature of her brothers. Though Jace, now a man grown, still held onto those immaturities.

Yet another thing that set her apart from her siblings.

For she, only a mere year younger than Jace, was considered a woman, ripe for marriage and bearing children, whereas the same hastiness was not pressured upon him. She knew her mother had never intended to bestow such responsibilities on her, but she understood, it was inevitable. As that time loomed ever closer, she found herself roaming her home more often, as if to savour the feeling of once being a child.

Where her brothers could seek adventure with their dragons once they were big enough to saddle, her egg had not hatched in her cradle. She would not inherit the birthright of the blood of Old Valyria, yet another judgement cast upon her that only inflated her sense of belonging at her mother's side. With her moonlit hair and pale lilac eyes, each of her children could not have looked more different.

Before the incident, there existed only one other soul who could truly fathom the depths of her solitude. No dragon. Ceaseless taunts. The notion of isolation, even amongst one’s family. Any semblance of camaraderie had been extinguished the day Lucerys took his eye. That defining moment when Aemond—her uncle—seized his birthright had marked the fracture in their familial bonds. In the aftermath, her mother, alongside her new husband Daemon, orchestrated a grand scheme to mend the shattered relations, a plan that involved her betrothal to him at an opportune moment.

Try as she might, she couldn't conjure the image of herself as his wife. The thought of residing in King's Landing under his roof refused to coalesce into a coherent vision. It remained an elusive spectre, haunting her thoughts with its intangible uncertainty.

Whispers of tradition and duty echoed in the hallowed halls of her childhood, spun by the gentle tongues of Septas who spoke of the sacred rites of marriage. Tales of Lords and Ladies, of the solemn exchange of vows, and the anticipated consummation on the wedding night. Some stories painted a picture of pleasure and intimacy, of unions founded on mutual desire and affection. Others whispered of duty, of sacrifices made for the sake of one's spouse, regardless of personal inclination.

Caught in the web of uncertainty, she pondered which version of Aemond awaited her, a tender partner or a distant lord, bound by duty and tradition. The unknown loomed before her like a shadow, casting doubt upon her heart and stirring a quiet fear within her soul. She knew not what to expect, but the uncertainty itself was enough to unsettle her, to sow the seeds of apprehension in her mind. And as the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, she couldn't help but wonder, which path would her marriage tread, and would she have the strength to endure whatever lay ahead?

Amidst the towering peaks of Dragonmont, she sought solace in the embrace of ancient flames and the soothing hum of Vermithor's slumber. Here, amidst the rugged terrain and the ever-watchful gaze of the dragons, she found a fleeting sense of peace.

But it was not the Bronze Fury that sang to her. 

“Hen ñuhā elēnī:

Perzyssy vestretis,

Se gēlȳn irūdaks…

Ānogrose.”

She felt the rush of heat at the nape of her neck. Daemon stood straight, back facing her, his voice near-matching the hum of Vermithor’s deep exhales.

“It is late, Princess.” Unlike her, Daemon remained as he dressed during the day, shown when he turned to face her, with the self-satisfied smirk on his lips. “What troubles you?” he asked.

She tried to raise her chin, but her eyes betrayed the turmoil that stirred within. 

“My fate,” she said, her careful steps drawing ever nearer. "I am to be wed to Aemond, but I fear what awaits me in that union.”

Daemon hummed, as if curiously amused.

She had known no father figure since Laenor. And though she knew sooner than her brothers the truth that lay beneath the careful picture her mother had forged, since she had been wed to Daemon, he had taken practice with his own daughters and become almost a father to her alike.

She felt his eyes sink over her once before returning to her eyes.

"Marriage is a weighty matter," he said. "But is it the marriage itself that troubles you, or something more?”

She did not miss the lilt to his voice. The one, that like his eyes had done many times before, made something squeeze in her gut. A fire burning bright. A feeling that brought her shame.

He was her mother's husband.

“I cannot say exactly,” she confessed. “Perhaps it is leaving Dragonstone. Mother and my brothers. And being alone in the capital with no face I recognise with trust.”

Daemon nodded almost indistinctly, his fingers reaching out to brush a lock of hair back over her shoulder, admiring her hair loose of its usual braids. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, a sensation both familiar and disconcerting. She fought to push aside the conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, the warmth of his touch conflicting with the knowledge of their complicated relationship.

"Leaving behind the familiar can indeed be a daunting prospect," Daemon acknowledged, his voice a velvet caress, “But fret not. Within you resides the same fire that fuels your mother's resolve. Embrace it. You are as much Targaryen as any of them.”

She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze, at the way he seemed to see straight through her defences. She knew she should be wary of his advances, of the way he danced on the edge of propriety with his words and his touch. But there was something undeniably alluring about the way he held her gaze, about the way he made her feel desired and understood.

"Thank you, Daemon," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your support means more to me than you know.”

Daemon's smile was a slow, seductive curve of his lips, his eyes alight with a fire that mirrored the flames of the Dragonmont. 

"Ah, but my dear Princess," he replied, his voice low and husky, "you have yet to discover the true depths of my support.”

She felt her throat close up, the feeling mirroring somewhat what happened between her thighs.

What could he possibly mean?

“Do you fear it?” he asked. “The act of consummation?”

Her cheeks flushed crimson at Daemon's bold question, his words sending a jolt of both arousal and apprehension coursing through her veins. 

“It… is perfectly normal, I would think,” she answered, words failing her.

"Princess," he murmured, his voice a soothing caress against her skin. "There is no shame in feeling uncertain. It is only natural to have doubts, especially when faced with such intimate matters.”

She felt he was circling her, as dragons did their targets. And felt her heart thumping in her chest.

“With Aegon, I dare say, I would join you in your uncertainty. But Aemond, on the other hand… is a different matter entirely.”

“How so?” she asked, breathing out when he disappeared out of her line of sight, his presence at her back, fingers draping past the material of her dress.

“I am afraid he may be less… forthcoming with expressing his desires,” he purred. “He may be cold, or at least that is how it may be interpreted.” Her eyes met his with bated breath as he appeared on her opposite side, closer. “He may not be so adept with the pleasures of a female body.”

She swallowed, a chill settling on her front, her body reacting thus. He remained silent, as if daring her to say what he knew was already on the tip of her tongue. So, she took the plunge. “And…you are?”

Daemon smirked smugly, and she knew she already had her answer., “What do you think?”

Her heart raced. Her mind struggled to contemplate whether she should be honest or not, for she had heard stories and rumours. She knew she was treading dangerous waters, playing with fire in the form of her mother's husband, but there was a part of her that couldn't resist the allure of his confidence, his charm, his undeniable magnetism.

"I... I suppose I never considered such matters," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the admission.

Daemon's eyes danced with amusement as he stepped closer. "Perhaps it is time you did," he murmured, fingers trailing lightly down the curve of her spine.

Her skin vibrated with anticipation as she fought to maintain her composure in the face of his overwhelming presence. She knew she should pull away, should put an end to this dangerous game they were playing, but the lure of Daemon's charm was too strong to resist.

“Mayhaps I could demonstrate and put your worries to rest,” he suggested, crossing the imaginary but daring line seemingly without fear. “Rest assured, my experience in such matters is... extensive."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to maintain her resolve, her body betraying her with every flutter of her lashes, every quickened breath. “But… you and Mother—”

Her lips clamped shut with the bruising of his grip in the softness of her waist, urging her back to the rocky, hard wall. Only now, when faced with the Rogue Prince, did she realise just how small she truly felt.

“Your mother is preoccupied with her own affairs," he replied, his voice dripping with a dangerous allure. "She won't concern herself with our little... indiscretion.”

The realisation sank in that she was alone with Daemon in the secluded confines of the Dragonmont, far removed from the prying eyes of the world. And yet, she still felt her lips go dry when he hung the torch and trailed his touch upon her skin where he was taking her skirts with it.

She could not hide her nerves, or the beating rush of arousal, “Bu—but… with Aemond, I must—”

The air felt warm as her skirt was rucked around her hips. She squeaked when his calloused fingers swept through her folds, ashamed to find she was affected by what he was doing to her as her slick coated them easily.

Daemon chuckled, a pleased hum in his chest that she was wet and ready, while his other hand busied with the laces of his breeches, “Sweet girl. When my dear nephew has his cock buried inside you on your wedding night, he will not know the difference.”

His words, combined with the tight circles he applied to the forbidden bud tucked between her legs, had white hot pleasure burning in her veins. Her lips were parted, but no sound came out. All she could do was look upon his pleased face with a hedonistic expression, feeling very much like they were doing something deliciously wrong but could find no reasonable excuse to cease.

“Do not look so surprised. I have seen the way you watch me. Are you not ashamed for looking upon your own mother’s husband with lust?” 

The more he touched her, the more arousal he coaxed forth, the sound lewd and forbidden in the raw silence of the Draognmont. She could not answer his question without subjecting herself to further embarrassment. Even so, attempting to concentrate enough to form words as his two forefingers slid within her tight, hot walls, was near impossible. She gasped quietly, the feeling so foreign and yet not unpleasant. And like Daemon in any other scenario, while his motions were forceful, somewhat brutal, they were calculated, without effort. Like it came innately. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, his digits buried deep inside curved towards him, stoking a fire at the hearth of her.

“Answer me.”

She nodded frantically. “Yes—I am ashamed—”

It was all she managed before the feeling began to crest, building and building as if she were climbing some great height and was about to tumble off. But she only exhaled shakily as Daemon withdrew his fingers from her fluttering, sensitive walls, using the moisture to lubricate himself with a careful caress of his manhood.

He chuckled at the wounded expression on her face. “No need for shame, Princess.”

She caught the glint of his ring as he wrung the fabric of her skirts in his fist. Her eyes widened as the head of his cock disappeared easily between her swollen folds, with no real full feeling until he pushed forward, both with hesitation and a sort of evil excitement.

Her back pressed against the jagged stone, her lips only parted to suck in air where it had left her lungs. It was a feeling she could describe very little, the sting of being stretched around him painful and yet once sheathed fully inside her, hips pushing against her own. Daemon wrapped his fingers around her fleshy thigh to tug her leg over his hip, a flash of white hot pleasure creeping up her spine. He only grunted, her slick ridges gripping him greedily without any effort on her part. 

For a few moments, he stayed like that as if waiting for any complaint, but when he found none, began a steady rhythm, fingers creating crescent-moon shaped welts in her skin. He did not share in her reaction. He simply raised one corner of his lips in a pleased manner, watching her face, treating it very much as a lesson in pleasure more than anything else.

She could scarcely think with the violent push of his hips, the notch of his belt stabbing into her each time.

“My nephew does not deserve this perfect. little cunt.” He grunted from the effort. “Tell me, Princess—when he is fucking you with his narrow little prick, will you be thinking of this instead?”

Her eyes slipped shut, her head tipped back and fingers coming to her own mouth to muffle the lewd sound that threatened to come out. Her perceived embarrassment at her own enjoyment of this only seemed to motivate Daemon further, and he widened her hips with a soft nudge of his knee against her leg and groaned at the way she tightened around him.

“You liked that, didn't you?” He breathed against her face, looking briefly down between them to watch how he rooted himself inside her over and over, as if unable to believe this was really happening. “I bet he won't make you this wet. I doubt the little cunt will even know how to make you come.”

Her skirt fell from his hand as it drew down between them, and she resisted the urge to squeal when he began to apply pressure in tight, sure circles around her bud.

“You shall have to teach him those pleasures.”

Her fingers gripped his forearms tight as she climaxed, her tight, hot walls spasming around him uncontrollably. It was so utterly different to the way she had pleasured herself before. This time, the forbidden combination of Daemon stretching her open around him and the pleasure he coaxed from her with his fingers meant that this peak seemed to drain her entire body of energy. Her body feeling boneless in his hold, that if he let go, she would surely lose her balance.

A flash of fear cracked like lightning across her subconscious. Surely he did not intend to spill inside her?

He did not overstimulate her for much longer as he neared his own end. Rather, he savoured the feeling of her warmth sucking him in for just a few moments more before pulling out, stroking himself vigorously to completion, warm ropes of his spend coating her lower stomach.

In the quiet dead of night with only her laboured breathing to echo within it, she felt her eyes could not keep up with her mind as she glanced back up at him. His rapidly cooling seed began to dribble towards her thighs, swiftly covered by her skirts once more as Daemon lowered her clothing back into place. The reality of the dangerous and yet delicious sin she had committed with him began to rise into clarity.

Upon his fingers shone the damning proof of his sordid claim on her, pearly in the glow of torchlight. “What a waste. I’d have liked to see it dripping from you.

But that pleasure… I shall save for my nephew, sweet girl."

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Handle With Care - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Reader and Aaron meet for the first time before she starts as a full-time nanny for Jack.

Notes: Hopefully will be at least 5 parts! I'm excited to be writing again :)

Word Count: 4.6K

I always believed in new beginnings, but as I stood on Aaron’s doorstep, rolling a suitcase in one hand and a Vera Bradley duffel bag in the other, I was tempted to question my resolute thinking. It had yet to fail me. Not when I was hardly eighteen and living on the other side of the country, vying for my spot at the esteemed culinary arts program. And not when I’m twenty-four with a stint as the private chef

Professional chef turned nanny–for my father’s beloved mentee, no less. My parents, ever supportive and ever loving, practically held an intervention when I showed up on their suburban door step a fractured shell of the bubbly daughter they dropped off at the airport. 

Five years later, I’m sleeping in the same bed. I had nightmares about leaving once again. And yesterday I gave up that bed for a full-time position as Aaron Hotchner’s live-in nanny. Aaron, who I never even met, is my father’s protege. He knew him as a whip-smart, young lawyer from a family Law dynasty at Quantico. My father took him under his wing and even after his early retirement from the BAU they would get together for an annual work lunch. 

I was nearly finished with my final year of the Los Angeles Culinary Arts Program when my fathers called to say that Aaron’s wife was murdered. I remembered thinking how lucky Dad was and how brave Daddy had to be. With one day off saving the world and the other left to hold down the fort with an awfully anxious only child daughter. 

One year later, I was unemployed and completely blacklisted from the culinary entertainment industry for reasons beyond my control and without my fault. I gripped the suitcase, my chipped fingernails so jagged they punctured my skin. 

Aaron had a nice house with a manicured front lawn, a big wrap around porch, and a fully furnished backyard. Clearly, he was a man with a lot of education and a lot of smarts to top it off. He worked hard. It showed, these neighborhoods of Arlington, Virginia weren’t cheap. No wonder my dads were dying to relocate to Georgia. 

The door swung open before I could work up the courage to ring the bell or knock on the dark cherry wood. Aaron answered. He wore a dark green men’s quarter zip that was pushed up, showing off his forearms. His dark, charcoal gray watch shone as he let me into his foyer. 

He had a foyer.

And a house that smelt like warm cinnamon and musk. 

“Y/N,” Aaron said, nodding to me with a smile, “Please give me your bags. And we’ll go sit and chat before Jack comes. His grandma is still in town and brought him to the zoo.” 

I complied. There wasn’t a need for me to protest. And clearly, by the looks of those forearms, he would have no problem handling my bags. I only brought a single suitcase, a duffel, and five boxes of books. Aaron’s mother-in-law, Lorriane, had been staying with them since Haley died a year and a half ago. But her husband broke his hip. Apparently, Aaron had added a mother-in-law suite for Lorriane and judging by the looks of his home, the suite I’d be living in for the foreseeable future was twice the size of my studio in LA. 

“Thanks.” I said, grabbing a seat on the brown fabric sofa, “My dad said I had to say hello to you for him. He still raves about you. Like all the time.” I chuckle, watching as Aaron hands me a glass of iced tea. 

“Marty’s a good man. He and Gideon built the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Our team is in constant debt to him.” Aaron spoke so formally, gesturing for enthusiasm with his hands. 

“Yeah, well. He’s always just been dad to me.” I smiled, the man I knew showed up to my field hockey games even if it meant holding office hours there. He was the most there dad I could ask for– maybe it was neck in neck for the both of them. 

“So Jack?” I said, breaking the silence. “How–how’s he been?” I couldn’t help but wonder. My dads had a close friend who helped them with their surrogacy journey, so while I didn’t have a mother in the traditional sense, the woman who I’ m half of  was still alive and in my life. Debra was more like an aunt to me, fun and spirited and eternally youthful. But I still had her. 

Unlike Jack, who’s Earthly ties to his mother were shredded in an horribly violent way. 

My dad hardly ever cried, but when he called and told me that Aaron’s wife died I could hear it in his raw voice. Aaron’s a man cut from the same cloth a Dad; stoic and responsible. He was a wall of somber trepidation, but somewhere deep inside I could make out the man that wasn’t cataclysmically destroyed. 

“Jack is…he’s a strong kid. I put him in therapy after it happened. He still goes once a week. Laura, she’s his therapist. She’s wonderful. Truly has helped Jack work through all this.”

“That’s good. That’s really good, Mr. Hotchner. It seems as though Jack has a solid foundation here.” I say, unsure what to say exactly. I can make an omelet six different ways, yet it’s lost on me to know what to say to a widower with a little boy. If I had to bear even a fraction of their grief, I’m sure it would break me. I would crumble. But these two boys? They’re a good man in the storm. And I know in my bones, it’s entirely Aaron’s doing. If that man is anything, he’s steady. 

“It’s Aaron. Please, Mr. Hotchner reminds me of my father.” He cringes, the lines on his eyes creasing, “Your dad said you’re a professionally trained chef? Unfortunately, Jack’s still squarely in the dinosaur shaped chicken nugget and baked tater tots phase. It’s been a struggle to get him to try anything new…for…for awhile now, if I’m being honest.” 

I nod, thinking that Jack’s food discouragement might stem from losing his mom. “Well, the way I see it, Jack lost his mom at how old? Four and half? That’s when we’re starting to really know what we like and don’t like to eat. His life was turned upside down and shaken all around when you lost her. So maybe he needed some consistency in a world of chaos. Not that your home is chaotic, it’s lovely and clean and happy. It’s just…loss…”

“Losing your mother as a toddler really fucks up your life.” Aaron says. He speaks so definitely, as if he means everything so ardently you could cast it into stone. 

“Yeah.” I add, somberly. “But I think we can get him to branch out. Make it a game. I’d love to cook with him. I can get him kid-safe tools so he can be involved in food preparation and cooking. Oh! Maybe Jack and I can have a garden. I’m sure that will get him eating vegetables and fruits.” 

Aaron’s neutral expression slowly transitions to a soft smile. He thumps his fingers on the wooden table, as he looks out through the deck. I could feel him glance back at me and then to the yard again. 

“I think that a garden would be lovely over on the side. It’s far enough away from the pool and patio.” Aaron offers, sipping his tea. It’s sweet tea, too sweet for me. Working in kitchens throughout my program has trained me to not only tolerate black coffee, but to actively seek it out. He smiles, his grin defining his face. “Good idea.” 

I feel heat at his praise. I like doing well, who doesn't? But after a series of mishaps and bad luck, an 'atta' girl is my Hail Mary of the month. I simply nod. “Simple things to start so he can see some quick results. I’ll get him super involved in it. Make him feel like he’s a part of a team.” 

“I work a lot. My team flies across the nation, as you know. It takes me away from here for days on end. It was getting too much for Lorriane. And how her husband broke his hip.” Aaron shakes his head, “Honestly, you couldn’t have shown up here at a better time.” 

He runs his pointer finger over the water rung pooled on the coasters. “Jack’s a very easy kid. Reasonable. But shy. He was shy even before Haley…even before last year. I’ve brought him to the pediatrician because he stopped talking for a while, but she said that we’ve all survived an immense trauma and our brains simply process and live through that trauma differently.”

Sitting there, I couldn’t help but think how lucky this little boy is. His dad was running up the hill; pushing that boulder up and up and up for an eternity. It must be an awfully lot to carry, without anyone to share the load. 

“Yeah. I’m sure it is? Is he going into Kindergarten after the summer?” I ask, wondering if Jack went to Kindergarten on time or if Aaron and his grandma kept him home when they lost Haley. 

“Lori, Haley’s mother, taught preschool for thirty-five years. She told me to keep him home for a year, let him be a little bit older and get the help he needs to heal and then send him. So I listened. I think that was one of the only decisions I made as a team this year.” 

Sympathy must have colored my face because Aaron’s demeanor shifted quickly. He sat up, sipping his iced tea and wiping his hands on his jeans. “So basically your weekdays are around 8am-7:30pm. And occasionally on the weekends when the team does have to be on location But recently, I’ve been trying to transition to a more leadership position at headquarters. Hopefully, that’ll mean less traveling.” 

I quickly journaled the hours down in my notebook. Live-in nannying hours are not for those looking for a job to allow them the life of leisure. Naturally that couldn’t possibly be true for a position whose main coworker is a five and a half year old boy. 

“Alright. So that’s summer hours. We’ll need to brainstorm lots of stuff to do all day. Maybe the library?” I write a small note to get ideas and have them approved by Aaron.

He nodded, “Yes, summer hours are a lot, but Jack will be going to a couple camps that his therapist recommended. So you can get a couple hours each day to yourself. I am ready to compensate accordingly. Between my new role at the BAU and other personal investments, we live comfortably. How’s $2,500 to start and then we’ll discuss a raise in the future. And naturally your room and anything you may want to eat or have will be covered by me.” Aaron says it again in a way that leaves no room for argument. He must’ve been a great lawyer; no wonder dad adores him. 

“That’s quite a lot of money.” I’m shocked and my face does a horrible job of hiding it. “I’m not a professional nanny. I’m good with kids. Really good. But I don’t do this for a living. This is you doing me a favor because if it wasn’t for you, I’d be a waitress at my dads’ country clubs” I cringed, my mind instantly filtering in an image of me serving one-time sorority sisters bottomless mimosas for an Easter Brunch. 

“I apologize if you though that it was up for discussion, Y/N. Your first month’s pay will be $2,500 each week. And then it will increase to $3,250 each week. If I’m asking you to work 13 hour days plus one weekend a month? I better be paying you that much. And you’re still on Marty’s health insurance?” 

I rolled my eyes, of course dad mentioned that to Aaron and of course Aaron double checked. Aaron just might have Marty, JD beat when it comes to thoroughness. “Yeah, till I’m 26. And that’s like…a year and change away.” I say, implying that it’s not up to me, or Aaron even, to know how long I’ll be with him. I wasn’t sure if I would ever venture out to LA again; not after what happened that sent me back here for good.

But the thing about food is that everyone wants good food, no matter where they live. And right now, the ones that wanted something good in their lives, lived in a lovely Colonial home on Moss Avenue. 

“I guess there’s no arguing with you, prosecutor.” I say, my voice increasing just so that it balances the line between teasing and something else…something else I should be too ashamed to admit. 

It elicited a smile from him and all of the sudden it was completely worth it. Aaron finishes his tea, and places it into the sink after dumping the remaining ice chips down the drain. 

“Non-negotiable. It’s in your contract. Along with a health insurance package should you need to go off Marty’s name. Plus all that tax information that I’ll get you someone to walk you through it.” Aaron explained. 

“Thank you.” I replied, grateful that it was both all above the table and that I would be given the resources to help me figure it out. Looking at the pile of paperwork in my lap, I was sure that if Aaron didn’t offer legal literacy assistance I would be way in over my head. “That’s wonderful. Really.” 

“I just…I just want my son to be a good kid with a good childhood. That’s all. I want to be there for him and if I’m not there, I want the next best thing there. You know?” Aaron said and I’m not sure if it’s a plea or statement. Or if it was stuck somewhere in the middle; lost at sea like Aaron was himself. An island unto himself, drifting as the tide rolled in. 

I break the silence. “What was Haley’s favorite meal?” 

Aaron smiled. His eyes, crinkling again. “She had chicken piccata on our first date. And we ate it at our wedding. And when she found out she was pregnant with Jack she made it for me.” I nodded, understanding the important link between food and memories. 

“Let’s make it. For Jack and you and Lorianne to share tonight before she leaves. It’s going to be a big transition for him to go from having grandma all the time to me, someone very new.” I expressed, hoping that I didn’t sound bossy or as if I wanted to parent Jack myself. 

“That’s a lovely idea, Y/N.” Aaron sighed. “But I never was much of a chef. I wouldn’t know the first place to start.” 

He leaned his hands against the table, a slight smile breaking the formidable since that had fallen between us in the moments before. I smiled back, standing from the table to reach my tote bag. 

I pulled out an apron, the kind that criss crossed over my back. It was denim blue with a canvas front and large pockets. 

“Move over,” I said, tying my apron, “It might be your kitchen, Aaron, but for tonight you’re kicked out” 

The chicken ended up being more chicken piccata adjacent than a true representation of the dish. I mixed a seasoned blend of flour and spices for the dredging. Then, butterflied and pounded the chicken breasts into thin pieces. 

Aaron’s kitchen was spacious and airy. There was a large island with barstools on one side and lots of pantry and cupboard space on the other. I stood at the island, dredging the chicken in seasoned flour before placing it nearly on paper towel lined trays. The chicken, thinned and butterflied, didn’t take long to cook in the oil and butter. 

I let the skillet heat up till the oil, butter, garlic, and capers produced a mouthwatering aroma. Aaron gave me a bottle of white wine, imperative to make the sauce taste even better. I added freshly squeezed lemon juice and lemon slices to the pan sauce, letting the brown bits cook a little bit more. I scraped the edges of the skillet, incorporating the sauce even more. 

I placed the chicken back into the pan, letting it absorb the lemony, garlicky flavor of the sauce. The sauce thickened, forming something that was similar enough to chicken piccata. I added a bit more butter to the pan, along with some lemon. I figured that it would stretch a little bit more for some sauce for the pasta on the side. 

The chicken was simmering in the pan and the pasta water nearly boiling, when Jack came home. He looked like his father, but must have gotten his lighter colored hair and eyes from his mother. 

Aaron walked into the kitchen with Jack, his hands resting on Jack’s shoulders protectively. Jack’s shy demeanor was evident as he peered over at me. I smiled and waved as I finished the pasta. 

“Jackie, this is Ms. Y/N.” Aaron introduced me to the young boy, who stood shyly by his father. “We talked about how Grandma Lorraine needs to go back home. And we’re gonna have a friend come and live here.” 

Jack nodded, his little mind clearly spinning and spinning to make sense of all this. He was clearly well adjusted, even for losing his mother at such a young age. 

“Hey, there Jack!” I smiled. “I made a good dinner for you and your dad. I heard you went to the zoo with Grandma. I love the zoo. Especially the tigers.” 

Jack nodded, eagerly walking around the kitchen island to talk about the zoo. “Yeah,” he said, “I liked the monkeys. They were funny. The babies were learning to climb and jump.” 

I nodded, plating up some food for Jack. “Super cool. They’re kinda like little people. The way they act and play.” I placed the plate on the counter. “I used the Cars plate. It was way too cool not to.” I crouched down and whispered to Jack, “Just make sure your dad doesn’t swipe it. Between you and me I can see him eying it from here.” 

Aaron chuckled, reaching high to grab not one, but two plates. He handed one to me before telling Jack to go sit for dinner. “You’re joining us. It’ll be good for us to get to know one another.” 

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nothing you do would be an intrusion. And it’s good for Jack to see that we’re friends. He’ll be more trusting of you.” 

I nodded, understanding that it was very important for Jack to become used to me. Especially considering Aaron’s job could take him away for days at a time. 

“Alright.” 

Aaron nodded. “Sit. I’ll get your plate.” 

There was an understanding that washed over me. An understanding that Aaron was the kind of man that didn’t ask for things. He was simply used to things he wanted being carried out. I envied that security. Maybe if I had even an ounce of it I would still be hacking it out in LA. Or maybe I wouldn’t have needed to figure it out because I would’ve figured it out already. 

Jack and Aaron went back and forth, swapping facts about dinosaurs. Jack was squarely in the dinosaur phase. Five minutes in, and I already had promised to help him find a dinosaur coloring book, with dinosaurs besides just the “cool ones”. 

“Uncle Spencer says that some dinosaurs had heads as big as a car!” Jack said, practically shrieking with excitement as he recounted all the facts a certain Uncle Spencer had told him. 

“Uncle Spencer’s so smart. And he’s a kid!” Several of Jack’s stories started with the aforementioned Uncle Spencer and I couldn’t help but wonder where the connection lay. Especially if, like Jack claimed, Spencer was a child. Sometimes some cousins are so far apart in age they’re more like an aunt or an uncle. Perhaps this was the case.

“Spencer is on my team.” My face must have shown my confusion. I always wore my emotions and thoughts on my sleeves, something that failed me several times over. Most notably when my friends in LA would get hit on by men at bars in the most vile of ways. One of the blessings of being deemed unapproachable by men was being left alone, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t burdened by their lack of tact in seducing women. “And he’s 28…yes about 28 now, and has been on the team since he was 23. He’s brilliant. Jason Gideon, who worked with Martin, scouted him when he was hardly 21. His mind works in ways that are simply unexplainable.” 

“Which means he must have some pretty sick dino facts?” I ask, my question causing a prickly smile to appear on Aaron’s face. Jack giggles, he must enjoy seeing his father smile. It seems that even though the boys find themselves moving alone, smiles are few and far between. Especially from the elder Hotchner. 

“And three phDs.” Aaron cut the rest of Jack’s chicken, sliding his plate over and reminding him to at least try the vegetables. “It’s like these kids are getting younger as fast as they are getting smarter. Sometimes I just look at Spencer and my knees hurt. Then again, I’m pretty sure I would beat him in anything athletic. Even though he’s much younger.” 

I raised my brow instinctively, smiling. “Was that a joke?” I deadpanned. “My dad said you made two jokes the entire time he knew you. And the first was…”

I stopped myself short. But it was far too late. Aaron, like myself and my father, knew when the first joke he made to my father was. His wedding day. My father had long retired, and moved his mind and soul far, far away from the BAU. He trusted Aaron and Gideon to handle it. Instead he decided to live as himself, freely with his husband and their daughter in the suburbs.

If there was one thing that I shouldn’t have done the first night working with a nanny family consisting of a widower and his son, it was to bring up the marriage of the widower. 

When Aaron married his late wife, Haley. My fathers attended, but I didn’t even remember. It must’ve been one of those times that Nana would sleepover. I remembered it was painting nails, ordering Chinese, and watching Walker, Texas Ranger and Family Feud. I remembered it as falling asleep to my Nana’s snoring as Home Shopping Club glowed on her ancient TV set and waking up to her chocolate chip pancakes. My father remembers it was the first time his young protege made a joke. And Aaron remembers it was the day he married the love of his life. 

“Daddy?” Jack said, cutting through the silence, “I don’t like veggies. They’re too mushy.” 

“Don’t eat them, bud.” Aaron, murmured, his voice laced with a guard that I hadn’t noticed till now. It was careful, like he crafted each tone and cadence before he spoke. “We’ll figure it out, Jack. Come on, let’s show Ms. Y/N her room. Where she’ll be staying.” 

Each sentence is clipped and calculated. I nod, smiling as Jack stands next to his father. 

“I’ll clean up.” 

Aaron nodded, thanking me as he took Jack up to get ready for bed. Minutes later, the kitchen was back to normal and a couple extra meals were packed away for leftovers. I left a note on the counter for Aaron in the morning. 

Lunch is in the fridge.

I always like to make extras! 

Have a nice day

Y/N

Aaron returned, without Jack. “You didn’t have to do the whole kitchen. I don’t expect that. This isn’t a housekeeping job, it’s taking care of Jack.” 

“I don’t mind. Being a chef…or I was a chef, as much as a pain in the ass cleaning and dishes can be sometimes it’s a good way to finish it all. I don’t know…I don’t make sense.” I chuckled, trailing off in a rambly way that fully gave away my nerves. My previous blunder had shaken me, especially since Aaron seemed completely unnerved, even though I knew it stung.

“I suppose, sometimes I used to stay late to do all the paperwork, even though the interns usually will do it for us.” Aaron wipped his hands on his pants.“Anyway, let me show you to the room. I had it cleaned over the weekend and put Lorianne up at a hotel for a couple nights so there wouldn’t be any issues or crossover.”

Aaron led me through the rest of the house. It was neat and tidy and I didn’t expect anything else from someone like Aaron, even though he does have a young, energetic son. There was just something meticulous about him. Something so put together and careful. And then there was me. Messy and complicated and unsure and terrified. Anyone would be that after having the carpet pulled out from under them. And I couldn’t name a bigger carpet than having to bury your life. 

There was a locked door that led to what Aaron explained as my private area. “Jack and I won’t come over here. From the time that I get home in the evenings, or frankly, some days, till I leave in the mornings is your own. This is your spot in the house, but my housekeepers that come twice a month will clean in here, if you’d like.” 

I nodded, grateful for that added bonus. The small attachment was the size of a studio apartment. There was a kitchenette with a nook tucked into the corner with the windows. The furniture matched the rest of the house, clearly Aaron had spared no expense to add this attachment. The queen sized bed was pushed up against the wall and nestled into the corner. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp. And, as I turned the corner, was the crowning jewel. 

“Are those built–ins?” I asked, staring in disbelief. “Those are so gorgeous. I have like, easy, a ton, of books. God! Can I use them?” I turned, practically jumping from joy as Aaron chuckled reluctantly. 

“Of course. This room’s yours.” Aaron must’ve carried my bags into the bedroom while I was cooking because all of my belongings sat on the floor near the set of love seats and armchair. “I’ll leave you to get settled. 8:30 okay for tomorrow?” 

I nodded, stunned beyond belief as I opened my boxes of books. Aaron handed me a set of keys, one to the house, the shed, and the other to my area of the house. 

“You’re the only one that has a copy. If you want others made, I’ll cover the expense.” Aaron explained. “Have a good night, Y/N.” 

“Good night,” I replied, hooking the keys onto my set. “And thank you for this room. It’s nicer than my apartment in LA.” 

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, “Of course, I think Jack'll be very happy. It’s been hard to trust others. With him, honestly…Jack’s all I got left.” I had known Aaron for about three hours, heard stories of his skill and professionalism and talent for years, but he wasn’t someone that I had known, let alone even met. But in those three hours, I could count several times where I saw a sliver of emotions.

“I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Night.” 

“And Y/N?” Aaron said, stopping me as I reach down to start shelving books, “Food does hold memories. You’re right. I needed it. We did. Jack and I. He needs to remember her.” 

“Food has memories.” I said, shrugging, “You’re gonna have to learn I know more than you think I do.”

Taglist

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @pear-1206 @this-is-calm-and-its-anne @little-jana @pastelpinkflowerlife @sarcasm-and-stiles @ilovefictionalmennn

[imyourbratzdoll]

y/n has scars on their back/shoulders (battle scars, from going on many missons together.). one day y/n has their back exposed, in a dress. at a private gathering, and lloyd hugs them from behind, kissing down y/n's back. when y/n asks what lloyd is doing, tang replies “no one has ever kissed them before, so I’m doing it now.”

hope you like it, thank you for sending it! I enjoy your requests.

summary - lloyd doesn't like when people make his wife feel insecure about her scars.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

When Y/n and Lloyd Hansen entered the room, it seemed time had stopped. Why wouldn’t it? The couple looked like they were carved by gods, with Y/n wearing an off-white, beige backless dress and Lloyd wearing his signature white pants with the tightest black turtleneck you could get. No man or woman would dare try to make moves on either one, knowing how possessive they were of each other.

After a while of being at this gathering, Y/n walked over to the bar and ordered herself a vodka. Ignoring all the whispers and murmurs about the scars on her back, the woman might be someone you wouldn’t want to cross, but she was insecure like everyone else.

Lloyd glared at the people gossiping about his wife, wishing he could kill them all, but that would be bad for business, and he couldn’t afford to lose all of his money now, not when he plans to have a big family with the woman of his dreams. Instead, he saunters over to Y/n, his arms slithering around her form, and he leans down to place soft kisses against the jagged scars. Lloyd starts with the ones along her shoulders before kissing down to the ones covering her gorgeous back.

Y/n sighs, her hands are resting on his arms that hold her close. “Lloyd, what are you doing? People are talking.” She breathes out, feeling her heart warm at the loving gesture. Her head tilts back, letting her husband continue his mission, knowing he doesn’t mean any harm.

Lloyd pulls back, coming up until his mouth is near her ear and whispers. “No one has ever kissed them before, so I’m doing it now.” His long, rough fingertips run along the scars. “You won't let me when we’re home, even though you got them saving my ass. So I’m showing everyone they can stare and talk all they want.” Lloyd spins you around, staring deep into your eyes, his hand coming up, and he grips your chin. “But in my eyes, you are a goddess and always will be, even with those scars.”

Y/n smiles, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing Lloyd into a passionate kiss. “I love you, handsome.”

“I love you too, pumpkin.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[diejager]

Hello, may please ask for nsfw headcanons for the Oni please?

NSFW headcanons

Pairing: The Oni | Kazan Yamaska x fem!reader

Cw: NSFW, breeding kink, biting, marking, aftercare, possessive behaviour, size kink, tradition, scent/musk kink, worshiping, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.1k

Kazan is a proud man, honouring his family name to the point of committing blasphemy. He cherished the things that belonged to him, taking care of his kanabo with the careful swipe of his towel and as much love as he has for you, his little human. His big hands came to hold you before him, a supporting gesture while you stared up at him in the mirror, his piercing, red eyes meeting yours. 

Under the protective shield of his armour, those ritualistic shoulder guards with curved Oni horns, chest armour, sleeves and thigh protections secured by thick ropes rounding the mass of his body; and the bloodied cloth of his shirt, shin guard, skirt and pants held with strong string sewing them together to become a piece; Kazan was a soft lover, caring and soft-spoken with his feelings for you. Under that scary Oni mask, Kazan is scarily human, even with the added height and broad shoulders.

Size played a lot to his kinks, his body looming over your smaller one, his hands holding your curved hips as he bullied his cock into you, watching the skin of your navel bulge with his enormous size. You cried when he pressed a palm over the bulge, pushing it as he plotted through your wet and tight cunt, milking and clamping his thick shaft. Kazan enjoyed watching you take him by yourself, using his chest as support as you sink onto him, mewling and whining about how big he was and how your cunny was too small when you’d taken him over and over before, getting all his length in you. You shook and trembled, legs weak and useless, depending on Kazan to move you up and down, his big hands holding your hips. 

However gentle he tried to be, his strength and pleasure always got the better of his self-control, leaving bruises on your hips and waist, purples and blues the size of his fingers on your arms and thighs. Leaving marks on your soft, pliant flesh was a guilty pleasure of his, he liked sinking his jagged teeth into your shoulders and thighs. The sensuality of seeing the swollen bites on your skin and the sensitive news to it when he pressed a kiss on it. The ferality he felt surging in his body when red rolled down your thighs and shoulders, a single drop that painted your skin in a beautiful shade of crimson. 

He’d be ploughing you with his veiny cock while he leaves traces of his presence on your being, a show of possession on you that he revelled in with pride and sheer, unbridled joy. He was bound to be possessive of what he loved, he held great value and high respect for anything that deserved it, and you were at the top of his list. Forgoing his need to value and respect, being a killer naturally made him more possessive, the need to own and show the others he owned you. Perhaps it made you feel like an object, an item of his obsession, but you’ve never voiced your concerns and fears so he kept going on. If he can show to the others - either killer or survivor - that you were his, he could live happily.

Kazan, as the Oni, had a potency to his being. He had a name, had a reputation, had skill and had needs. He knew, like him, a lot of killers had forsaken their humanity - their souls - to their monsters. Most killers had better noses, their enhanced sense made sniffing out survivors easier and, in his case, helped let the others know you were his. The smell of his mark on you would cling onto you like a cloud of musk, the scent of his cum inside of you screaming about your branding. He would cum in you, spurting rope after rope of potent cum, staining your slick walls. 

He left it inside of you, dripping from your cunt and leaving the musk of his cum and your shared sex as a show of ownership. He spent time pumping you with his loads, he won’t stop until he’s overstimulated, because he can’t stop coming at the thought of breeding you. Building a family was a cultural tradition in his time, and to raise his descendants into honourable people, it was a dream of his, wishful thinking. He knew that within the Entity’s realm, all time stopped, he never aged, he never changed and he would never become a father, but the temptation of knocking you up was simply too much for him not to fuck his cum deeper.

Even while he bullied his load deeper and deeper, cock still as hard and leaky as when he first started, he’d kiss your lips so gently, muffling your mewls and cries. His hands cradled your face, placing sweet, worshipping kisses all over your face, hips rutting into you with your legs swinging over his shoulders. He rolled his hips steadily, making sure that you wouldn’t end up overstimulated like he was, all as he worshipped you. You were like a goddess to him, his little goddess that he could claim with his scent and mark. He kissed the ground you walked on, he kissed your hands when you held it towards him, and he would do anything you would want, all you have to do is ask. 

After everything, the hours-long marathon in bed, he would take care of you. He’s amazing at aftercare. He would do every whim of yours, if you wanted a cup of water, he’d have it in seconds, if you wanted to shower, he’d bathe you; if you wanted to sleep; he’d cuddle you from the back. His attention was spent on you and you alone after every session, he cleaned you, he fed you, he watched your back when you slept. He spooned you, his bigger body shadowing you in a comfortable and safe embrace, an arm under your head and another over your waist. 

If you didn’t want to sleep, wanting to feel pretty and clean as his, Kazan’s little goddess bride, he would dress you up prettily. Kazan was also a man who saw the beauty in tradition, painting you in the colours of his country, the powerful red and its innocent white. He painted your face in those shades with soft pink and yellow on your eyes, tried your hair in high loops and used beads to decorate your locks. Dressed in the beautiful robes that told stories and legends of his empire, you looked like those elegant geishas he remembered seeing years ago. You would dance and sing, he’d twirl you around him and make the ends of your sleeves flutter.

Kazan, for all his worth and pain, finally had something good in his life, something he could be proud of loving. Perhaps The Entity wasn’t as cold and unfeeling as She portrayed herself.

[makoodles]

Soooo I dunno if ur up for it but can we get a continuation of the baby fever thing where tsu'tey and s/o adopt spider but now it's in the future kinda like pre avatar 2 where spider is a teenager. Nothing angsty I just wanna read how Tsu'tey teaches spider things and spider calls him dad and spider finally getting that family love (I would literally die for this little boy I- *explodes*)

this is called having no self control btw! this was meant to be a 500 word drabble lol, but since you all love dad!tsu'tey so much, here we go!

continuation of baby fever

part one

pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none!

tags: fluff, dad!tsu'tey, adopted spider, pregnancy mention

"Dad, you're drawing them on crooked!" Spider complains, leaning away from his hands.

Tsu'tey frowns, looking down at his work. "They are not crooked."

"They are! Look!"

The stripes that Tsu'tey has painted onto Spider's fragile human skin upon his insistence do not looked crooked to Tsu'tey's eye, but he squints closer at them anyway.

"They look fine to me, maitan." He says with a sigh, dipping his fingers back into the paint dye and finishing up on the last stripe he had been working on. "Look at my stripes - they are not perfectly even."

Spider grumbles, but goes quiet as he darts a look at Tsu'tey's stripes. Seeing proof that Tsu'tey's stripes are not perfectly symmetrical seems to be enough to soothe him, at least for the moment.

When the kelku entrance rustles, Tsu'tey does not need to turn around to know that it's you. He knows you by the sound of your footsteps and the way your hands coast so softly over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

"Hello, boys," You murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to Tsu'tey's cheek. His ears twitch happily, and you move back to avoid getting hit with one, "Oh, Spider. The stripes again? That stuff is so hard to wash off-"

"That's the point, ma." He says, craning his head around to look at you. "I want it to last. I'm faster when I've got the stripes."

"Finished." Tsu'tey murmurs, clasping his son's shoulder before pushing himself to his feet.

Spider stands too, and Tsu'tey looks down at him thoughtfully. The stripes are a little jagged, though there's no way that Tsu'tey will ever admit that. More than anything, his attention catches on how grown Spider has become. He is still small, only reaching Tsu'tey's navel, but he has grown taller than you. His shoulders have broadened, growing thick with muscle from his long days running and playing with Na'vi children. It has always been more difficult for him to keep up, but the result of his tenacity is the impressively defined musculature at such a young age.

"We are going fishing, yawntutsyìp." Tsu'tey says to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "We will be back soon."

"I'll catch you a big one, ma." Spider adds, pushing masked face into your neck in a hug before bouncing away.

"Did you see!" Spider is still enthusing about his catch the whole walk back to the village.

"I saw." Tsu'tey confirms. The woven basket with their catch is slung over his shoulder, and a content sort of smirk is playing around his mouth as he watches Spider bounce over the tree roots.

"It was huge, and I nearly missed it but then I managed to hit it right as it darted out from behind those big rocks-"

"It was very impressive." Tsu'tey intones, reaching out to ruffle at Spider's hair.

Spider is still grinning, flying high on the success of his mini hunt. "I told you that the stripes made me faster!"

Tsu'tey lets out a rumbly sort of laugh, letting his hand drop from the top of Spider's head to the back of his neck and letting it rest there. His son is growing older, becoming a man, and yet he is still so small under Tsu'tey's hands. He feels a flare of vicious protectiveness deep in his chest, but that's nothing new.

"It was a very good catch, maitan." He murmurs, squeezing lightly at Spider's shoulders.

Spider looks down at his feet as he skips over another exposed tree root. "Do you think I'll be a good hunter?"

Tsu'tey tilts his head, and catches at Spider's bicep as he slips on moss. Once he is sure that he's stable on his feet, he releases his arm and pats him on the back.

"Yes. You have a good teacher." He bares his teeth at Spider in a grin, and gets a little smile in return. "But even if your talents do not lie in hunting, that will be okay. No matter what your skills are, I will be proud of you, my boy."

Spider's cheeks redden, but he smiles back all the same. The corners of his eyes crinkle just like yours do, and Tsu'tey's heart swells at the similarity between the two of you. His precious little family.

When they enter the village, you're waiting by one of the cookfires. You're fiddling with a couple of beads, and Tsu'tey recognises that you're weaving together a hair decoration.

"Yawntu," Tsu'tey calls as he approaches with Spider at his hip. "Look at what our son caught."

Spider takes the basket from him and bounds forward, grinning wide behind his mask as he proffers it at you. You make a big show of oohing and ahhing as you look into the basket, looking very impressed indeed.

"What big fish," You say. "These could feed the whole village for days!"

It had taken Tsu'tey quite some time to learn how to read the body language of Sky People, but even he can see how pleased Spider is. If he had a tail, it would be swishing wildly.

"I'm gonna go show Lo'ak." Spider says with a grin. "He couldn't catch anything yesterday! Jake isn't as good a teacher, I guess."

"Spider." You scold, giving him a look.

"Go, show Lo'ak." Tsu'tey encourages. "Make sure that Jakesully sees too. Show him that my son is a fine hunter."

"Tsu'tey!" You chide, delivering a smack to his thigh.

Spider just laughs, before taking the woven basket and running with it deeper into the village towards the Sully's kelku. Tsu'tey watches him go, before turning to you with a smug little grin.

"Ma'yawntutsyìp," He murmurs, leaning forward and pressing his forehead into yours. "He did well. He is growing skilled."

You cup the back of his head with one hand, scratch at his head with your little fingers. He lets his eyes slide shut lazily as he enjoys the feeling of your warm body so close to his after a hunt. He drops his head further into the cradle between your shoulder and neck and nuzzles there.

"I do not like him hanging around with Jakesully's children," He murmurs, his voice muffled in your throat. "There are many other children in the village."

"Oh stop," You mumble, your fingers massaging at his scalp, "They’re good kids."

"Neteyam is like Neytiri. Sensible." He grunts into your skin. "But Lo’ak is like Jakesully. He will get Spider into trouble."

"Oh, Tsu'tey." You sigh in that way you usually do when you think he's being dense. "They're both good kids. Besides, he's not really going to show Lo'ak anyway. He's going to show Kiri."

His brow furrows. "Kiri? She has no interest in fishing."

You sigh again, although this time you seem a little more amused. "I seem to remember you showing off your fishing skills to me when we were younger, hm?"

"That was different," He says dismissively. "I was courting you. That was my way of expressing interest, of showing you that I am strong."

"Mhm." You say, as though you're waiting for something.

Slowly, Tsu'tey raises his head from where it's buried in your shoulder and squints at you. He's not sure if he's following what you're suggesting.

"You do not think this is the same?" He asks, frowning. "Spider is- he is too young. He cannot be thinking of mating yet-"

"Oh, he isn't." You interrupt with a quick shake of your head. "It's a little crush, love. It's sweet."

But Tsu'tey is frowning, his mind overactive. "Does she- how does Kiri feel? If she does not share his feelings, he will be so disappointed-"

"He isn't going to be proposing anytime soon, relax."

"He needs someone who will value him-"

"Tsu'tey."

He falls quiet, looking into your eyes with a thoughtful little frown. You're looking right back at him, mouth quirked.

"He's a teenager with a crush. Let him be." You murmur, stroking a thumb over one of his pointed ears and making him shiver.

Tsu'tey just grumbles. "He has not told me about a crush."

"Well, I'm sure he will," You say simply. "He's a teenage boy. He's going to be shy about it."

Tsu'tey huffs, and looks down at his hands with a scowl. The thought of his small human boy developing feelings for someone who may not return them makes him feel shifty and aggravated – how is he supposed to protect him from such a thing? It will hurt him so much, and there is nothing that Tsu'tey can do to stop it.

"Stop overthinking." You mutter, nudging against his bicep with your shoulder as you finish tying the hair decoration together. "For all you know, Kiri likes him too and is just shy about it."

Tsu'tey grunts. The thought of Spider, such a small and weak little thing, having his feelings at the mercy of Jakesully's daughter makes him feel a little as though he's losing his mind.

"Hey."

When you nudge him again, he turns to you fully. The beaded hair decoration in your hands is finished, all red beads and golden yellow feathers. You hold it up, eyes bright.

"I made this for you." You say, holding it out for him.

Tsu'tey's stern expression softens, and he ducks his head closer to you. "For me? Will you put it on, yawntu?"

Your sweet little face is so bright as you shuffle forward and reach up for his face. Tsu'tey watches you carefully, reaching out to lay his hands against your waist as you wind the beaded decoration around a small section of braids just behind his ear.

"So handsome." You coo at him when it's tucked neatly behind his ear.

Tsu'tey smiles, satisfied. "Thank you."

You sit back and then nestle into him. He opens his arms and accepts you into his side easily, resting his chin over the top of your head contently.

"Our son will be a good hunter." He says, pressing a kiss to the curve of your shoulder. "And a good brother."

His hand lands on the curve of your belly, his thumb smoothing over the swell of it beneath your woven top. You lean into his touch, sighing happily as his other hand massages at the base of your spine.

"I know," You say simply, making a soft noise when he leans down to cup below your belly with his hands, lifting some of the weight up. "You've taught him well."

Pride swells in his chest, and he purrs softly as he presses his face into your neck again. You smell so sweet and comforting, and he inhales contently against your skin.

His small son has grown so strong, and his little mate fits so perfectly into his arms, no matter how large your belly has swollen. His family is so small and weak; he holds you close as his chest rumbles, pleased that he's large and strong enough to protect you all.

[chasing-posts]

People who deserve redemption, according to Thomas Astruc, written from least to worst of a bad character.

Kim Lê Chiến

Dumbass teenage boy who could have killed Marinette with a dumb prank he was completely concious of, and willing to commit. The boy was also a brat/ bully throughout season 1, but after Dark Cupid had apparently decided to be nicer off screen. Became friends with Max and got a girlfriend... BUT still refers to Chloe as the funniest and prettiest girl, IN FRONT of said girlfriend. Sees nothing wtong with what he did to the point of getting upset enough to become akumatized over the issue. He was allowed to be a super hero without even apologizing to Marinette dor over a year, and did a lot of dumb stuff tht was also forgiven just because. Is also one of the most inconsistently written characters in tbe story.

Jagged Stone

Possibly the most likable man on the list. However this man abandoned his twins and didn't contact them for 14 years. He kept his identity a secret and it's not even known if he paid child support before coming back into their lives, and constantly having fights with their mother.

That said he's put low on the list because we don't know if he did or did not pay child support. He's not mean to his children or kids in general, he is legit trying to make up for his absence and he originally left because his life was too chaotic to have custody. There's a lot of ambiguity and behind the scenes drama that is not explored (*cough thought out cough cough*) in this family, and it's even possible the mom fought for full custody to keep him away after a big break up. The situation is too ambiguous to judge.

Sabrina Raincomprix

Sabrina has been Chloe's number 1 supporter and follower for almost a decade. They were childhood friends and wherever Chloe went, she went. She has been supporting Chloe bad deeds and even happily participating throughout most of them. There were two incidents in season 1 where they almost stopped being friends and Marinette made an attempt to leave the friendship once, but for the most part has stuck throigh and done everything Chloe has wanted her to do and loved doing it. This includes stealing, faking notes, doing her homework, coming up with schemes to bully, laughing at all the chaos, making grown women and other teens cry and so much more. She was even given the dog Miraculous in season 4, by Marinette, despite doing nothing to earn it and only being good at soccer and wanting to SAVE Chloe, so they could bully another day.

In the end she's given a redemption arc because she feels bad for stealing (all of a sudden), and because Chloe was becoming friends with Lilah. The fact she's an active participant in bullying who gets off on the power trip of putting others drown, is not brought up again

Alec Cataldi

Alec's career is based on putting other people down, and is responsible for the first akumatized victim in the show back in episode 1. For four seasons, his entire personality was finding people, mocking them, on television or in person, and getting views off it. He's a spiteful man who makes his living off the suffering of others.

However in season 4 we find out that his biggest dream was to become a drag queen when he was little, and he was mocked for it. After that happened he shaved his hair off and started putting down other people's passions, in the same way his had dreams had been squashed. After his first and only akumatization, he has a break down and epithany, decides to live his true self and raise people up instead instead. On paper, he has the best redemption arc so far.

Félix Fathom

Fèlix was introduced in season 3, and his first on-screen acts include destroying Adrien's things, trying to ruin his cousin's reputation and leave him friendless, sexually assaulting Ladybug, and stealing from the Agreste family. He continues his bad deeds in season four with identity theft, and stealing all the Miraculous' from Ladybug and giving them to Gabriel/ AKA Hawkmoth, in return for the Peacock Miraculous.

We learn in season 5 he's a sentimonster who's been acting out due to an abusive father and his fragile existence in the world. He uses his power to remove everyone in the world in a misplaced effort to make him and his cousin happy, before eventually being talked down by Kagami and Adrian.

He eventually starts stalking Kagami and after revealing himself, they start a relationship together. He seems socially inept and yet despite all his knowledge on his, Adrien's and Kagami's situation, he decides to never tell Adrian aboht what's happening and only Marinette in the most awkward dance number ever.

All in all Fèlix had every opportunity and all the power to reveal Hawkmoth's true identy from the start, but never took the steps to reveal his identity and work towards true redemption. And if he decided to tell Chat Noir/ Ladybug the whole story, the three of them could have defeated monarch. And Adrien and Kagami would nit have been forced to goto London.

André Bourgeois

Andrè is a corrupt mayor, who uses his elected title and money to regularly take advantage of the people of Paris. He has fired people without just cause (even his own "friends"), tried to steal things he was denied, abused funds, and enable his daughters worst decisions. He raised Chloe alone since she was 4-6, and has both neglected her emotional needs, refused to parent his child, rewarded her bad behavior with material possessions, and allowed her to idolize her mother, and even encouraged her to model her behavior after her mother she abandoned them, and then abandons her and hands her over to her abusive mother at the end of the series, while taking in her half sibling, who he has not raised and has no legal claim over.

Andrè blames the women in his life for how he's turned out. Claiming he only wanted to be a film director, and only left to be a successful business tirant and corrupt political figure, for his wife Audrey. Who he still stays married to after she cheats on him, and moves away for half a decade, abandoning hik and their own daughter. He chooses to stay married. Chose to stay in that career and chose to constantly rip off and screw over the people of paris. Often being the cause of akumatization, and ruinging big events for his daughter's whims. Keep in mind, the only reason Chloe is like this now, is because of Aundrè's parenting, yet he never takes responsibility for that, and instead decides to abdocate his position, illigally allow his daughter to take control of the city, let her take all the fall for HIS crimes, and then abandon her to live with his step daughter instead.

All this to say that Andrè may be the second worst on the list, but I hate him the most.

Gabriel Agreste

What can't you say about this man. This man loves being evil. He dances through the halls when a scheme looks like it's about to work. His entire power is taking advantage of people at thier worst, enslaving them and then making them do his bidding. His list of victims includes literal babies, children of all ages, the mentally ill, the elderly, and even his own son. The son which he claims to love but whom he actively manipulates, abuses and mistreats throughout the ENTIRE series. He literally controls him to make him do whatever he wants, and when he acts out or says something he does not like, he belittles him and will actively punish him if he gets less than perfect.

Gabriel also disrespects and will backstab all his allies. Has enslaved 2 kwami's and claims everything he does is for his dead wife, whose corpse he keeps locked away in his basement. He is actively going against her wishes to stay dead and manipulates the love of the women around him, like Natalie, to move forward with his evil plans.

Lastly when he says he does it all for his wife, he's lying. Because the when he has the opportunity to go back in time and save his wife, or fight Ladybug, he actively chooses the latter.

He constantly terrorizes Paris, actively makes situations worst for people to make more akumatized victims, destroys property, all while he hides away in the shadows. Then finally in season 5, when he is confronted by Ladybug, he is given the opportunity to reform and really think about what he did. To reflect on all he's done. He uses a moment of vulnerability and weakness to manipulate Marinette and treats her like the puppet she's named after. His last act of the show is stealing the Miraculous, using the cat and Ladybug to destroy and recreate the world how he wills, where he's the hero and no one knows he's the villain, and his son who he abused for 5 seasons and now has left parentless, now sees him as a hero.

[evilminji]

Sooooo.....

Like? We can all agree, that, all other factors aside? Given the life he's lived and the personality he has? The sheer NONSENSE he's been exposed too (from rays to oozes to powders to magics etc) AND the by definition unfinishable nature of his Life's Work/Obsession?

If Batman lived in a world connected to Danny Phantom's Zone in any way... he's DEFINITELY becoming a Realms Ghost.

Like? It's not even a "possibly" here. It's an inevitability. He HAS to protect just one more person. HAS to solve one more case. HAS to protect his kids one last time. He HAS Too, HAS Too, HAS Too.

He's Batman.

It's etched into his soul. The man's ghost will literally REFORM in that outfit. Batman with a glow. Batman the protection spirit. Kindness and grief and an eternity of "I have to save just one more."

He's not going to get to die peacefully or rest quietly. It would go against his nature.

But! Why is this relevant? Because of the Elseworld stories. Those AUs. The Multi-Verse at large. They ALL... Have Batman.

Consider: Ember McClain. Rocker. Remember that name. Yes, in some worlds she makes it big. But? Tragedy and betrayal in others. Death. Do you think the Ember's of those worlds are fine with passing on silently? Shrugging and being forgotten just because some other Ember got there first?

No. They are Ember. SHE is Ember.

Just as Clockwork is Time.

What makes a Realms Ghost different then someone like Deadman? Than a Shade? A poltergeist? Your average spook?

They are only themselves.

Singular.

Small.

A tiny little fraction, of a fraction, of a part, of a small bitty droplet, if even that. You only get one soul. But! You share it. There are many "You"s. Like the universe itself, exploding out, to live, to experience, BE, and then collapsing back together in the end. Running together like rainwater in the cracks of Realitys. Seeping back into one piece, one person, in the place between places.

It's why one forgets silly things like Names and Pasts. You had so, so many. All of them were yours. Made you. Shaped you. But are not why you refuse to let go. Why you still EXSIST. Outside of Creation and Rebirth, beyond any gods you could possibly recognize. Refined to your truest SELF.

Yet... you might still be Alive. You know that you ARE. Time exists for the living. To balance beginnings, middles, and ends. Why do you care? They aren't you yet. They will be. All of you will eventually come together. You'll become something... MORE.

Ancient.

The wisdom and complexity of a complete Being. More a Person then your average soul. Like giant stars compared to a barely burning dwarves. You know, assuming you don't give up first. Most give up. It takes a certain sort of patience, after all. A LOT of timeless time. Kinda sucks.

Yet! We consider The Bat. Persistence and Stubborn Hope made manifest. Compassion born of terrible grief. Dead. Again and again and again. Dead for those who needed him. Who hated him. Who cursed or forgot or lamented him. In every imaginable age, a story played out the same. Ending the same.

Himself instead of another.

Himself FOR the others.

Himself because none other could.

Sacrifice and Sacrifice and Sacrifice. Desperation to save. Worlds burning and cities falling. Waking up, reaching out, to shield sons and daughters that are not there. That live because he does not. Dragging himself through the stubborn walls of world after world, like a haunting final curse, upon those who harmed his family, his city. His world.

A wraith. Gothams final curse upon those who damn her.

What must it be like? To keep saying good bye? To drag your aching soul, fuller and fuller of terrible memories, across the fields of jagged glass that are portals you tear, to world's on fire. Just to save friends and family. Enemies and strangers. All of whom, must in the end... bury you anyway.

Because you must kill the hope in their eyes. Must die before them again. Because you can not stay and they can not come with you. Or worse... they can, and will soon.

Sitting on fields of battle where you tried. Gave all your spirit could muster. But... it's over now. And all you can offer is the knowledge is that they should not be afraid. You will carry them home.

And are there? Nightwings and Robins and all manner of other family, waiting back in the Zone? In a Manor where Pennyworth lives eternal? Do they also hurt and fight to save their friends? Each new piece of them coming with some great tragedy that they must put right?

Do they give Walker and the Observants migraines? Probably.

Imagine, though: Time travel added to the mix. Dying in the future. Your son managing to turn everything back to before the world ended. The Ghost King is suddenly a Baby again. Every one is freaking out. "Oh no! The king!" Blah blah blah.

But you and your family are more concerned about the world ending threat that kills a part of you. So is the baby ghost king, when you tell him. You show up in your own Cave, freak yourself out. Team up time. Though you ARE growing concerned by the Baby Kings self-neglectful behaviors. Hey, Me, are you seeing this?

.......he.... you know, he COULD use more Parental Oversight. He's a good kid. Seems lonely though. Underfed. ("BRUCE, NO." "Hmmm.")

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones @the-witchhunter @cyrwrites

[thebearer]

the casual dominance in the fic abt carmys girl going to the resturant drunk was immaculate !!! i would absoluetly devour a piece where his girl goes and gets a tattoo and he’s there and helps her take care of it after yk but with some casual dom in there if you’re cool w that 🫶🏻🫶🏻

no pressure to write the piece if you’re not up for it! LOVE your work and your carmy fics💗💗💗

ahhh thank you so much!!! ofc and I hope you enjoy <3

"'s cute." Carmen muttered, lips curling when he looked at the little design, dainty and on your ankle, a simple line work for your first one.

"You think so?" You looked down at your extended leg, the sketched designs laid there before the actual process started.

"Yeah," Carmen nodded, eyes shining when he looked up at you. "Looks like you."

You blushed, rolling your eyes and looking off to the side to hide your melting face, how flustered he made you with such ease.

"You ready for me?" Donovan, Carmy's cousin, turned the corner, black gloves on and hair pulled back.

Carmen insisted you go here, where he got all his tattoos done by his cousin. "You have a big family, huh?" You had grinned at him.

"Not that kinda cousin, but yeah, baby." Carmen had laughed, grinning at you sweetly.

"Yeah." You nodded, a little shakier than you would have liked.

Carmen's eyes darted to yours, scanning the features on your face. "It'll be quick. Promise it doesn't hurt that bad." Donovan nodded at you.

You nodded back, lying back onto the reclined chair. Carmen pulled up his stool next to you, a hand running over yours gently. "Want to hold my hand?" He teased gently, fingers wiggling next to yours.

You weren't sure if he was joking or not, but you grabbed his hand anyways, fingers sliding to lace with his, clinging to the rough skin of his knuckles. Carmen smirked, rough pad of his thumb brushing over your hand.

"I'm gonna start." Donovan announced, holding the machine in his hand. "Try not to move, alright? It'll make the lines all jagged and weird."

"Ok." You nodded, your hand squeezing Carmen's a little tighter.

"Hey, look at me." Carmen muttered, your eyes sliding to meet his. "It won't hurt too bad. I promise."

Your face distorted, tensing with the first prick of the needle on your skin. You squeezed Carmen's hand tightly, back tightening to keep yourself from moving. "It's ok, it's ok. " Carmen muttered, putting a hand on your thigh to still yourself. "Just take a deep breath. That thing is tiny, it'll be over soon."

"I don't know how you do this." You grit, teeth clamped to keep a strangled gasp out as the needle danced over your ankle.

"Yeah?" Carmen snorted amused. "That would be nothin', baby. My knuckles hurt like a bitch."

"Really?" You grinned.

"Oh my God, Donny, tell her." Carmen looked at the man by your ankle.

"Oh, yeah." Donovan laughed lightly, shaking his head gently, hand still gliding over the sketch. "Nearly cried on me, sweetheart. I kept having to stop so he could walk around and get himself together."

You giggled, looking up to catch Carmen's eye roll. "Really? Thought you were a tough guy?" You teased, teeth sucking when the needle ran over tender skin.

"No way, baby." Carmen muttered, eyes shining at you playfully.

"'m just kidding." You hummed lowly. "You're pretty tough. 'specially to have all those because I think this is gonna be my last. No offense, Donovan."

"None taken." Donovan snorted. "They all say that. Then they're back in here in a few weeks."

You grinned, taking a cleansing breath at the bump of the needle against your bone. Carmen's free hand running over your hair.

When Donovan finished, showing you the final results, you grinned admiring the tiny little design. "Looks so good." You beamed.

Donovan gave a half lipped smile, nodding in a thank you before pushing back on his stool. "I'll get you wrapped up. You'll wanna get some Aquaphor or somethin' to put on that. Stay outta the sun."

Carmen nodded beside you. "I'll make sure she does it, Donny."

Your tummy flipped with excitement, his hand still laced in yours. And he did make sure you did. Giving you Advil later after your pre-appointment dose. He took the wrapping off the next day for you, putting a thin layer of the petroleum on for you.

"Wow, you're a pro at this." You hummed, watching him from the opposite end of the bed.

Carmen shrugged, heat blooming on his cheeks. "Yeah. Done it a few times before y'know. Just wanna make sure it's done right f'you, baby."

You were sure that's partially true, but you also knew Carmen liked to take care of you like this. A love language all of his own that made him feel safe, in control. And you were happy to let him do that for you.

[strongheartneteyam]

Get your shit together so I can love you.

Pairing: human!jake sully x female!human!reader

CW: angsty, so angsty, established relationship, MIGHT BE TRIGGERING for some audiences, disabled person feeling insecure about their body, fluff, crying, yelling, cursing, sexual language, hurt, comfort, sexual content, mentions of sexual fluids, foreplay, mentions of fingering, jake touching reader's pussy. Please, tell me if I'm missing something 🥲

Author's note: This AU is set on 2009. Jake is just a regular 24 year old former marine who ended up losing the movement of his legs permanently after an unfortunate accident that happened while he was fighting for his country, amidst a terrible, unforgiving war. The reader is a 21 year old regular human girl. There is no sci-fi or aliens involved. I totally understand if it's not your cup of tea as it's almost not canon at all to the Avatar Universe. I guess I just kept most stuff canon to Jake as a character. As I said, it's an AU. Just call me Miss Marvel and call this a version of Jake that exists somewhere in the wide multiverse 😂 guys I'm way too sleepy and exhausted that I'm starting to sound a bit drunk... gonna shut my piehole up now. I hope you guys like it. ✨ I need to sleep ughhh ✨

Not proofread. Sorry, my babies, momma is always too tired n running low on time.

❃

I tapped on your window on your darkest night

The shape of you was jagged and weak

There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway

You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself

But do you know you're demolishing me?

And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave

Renegade (Big Red Machine feat Taylor Swift)

❃

You walked to your boyfriend's house, watching the starry dark sky above. It was a full moon night, its pale light bathing your skin as you thought about how you missed Jake. You had just gotten back from a family trip yesterday and hadn't had time to go over to Jake's house to see him yet. You were so anxious to see his face again that you didn't even bother to call him to let him know you were about to come over.

When you got there, as soon as you opened the door with the copy of the keys Jake had given to you, you saw a miserable looking man sitting on a wheelchair, staring at the wall, eating a burger and fries and drinking beer. You swore to God one day you'd slap his hand and tell him to eat healthier. He ate junk food and drank way too much. His face was grumpy and a little sad at the same time. But it was your Jake. It didn't matter to you that he always looked like he was done with everything, he was so freaking handsome and charming, so, you could get past his moodiness. At the end of the day, you loved him so very deeply it made you feel like there was not enough space for so much love inside your body.

"Hey, babyyy!" You say, locking the door behind you "Sorry for not calling before coming over. I'm gonna stay the night, okay? I missed you so much..." You walked towards Jake and kissed his warm cheek, leaving the keys on a piece of furniture nearby

"Hi, baby. I missed you like crazy. I'm so glad my girlfriend is back here with me." He smiled at you. That was the first time he smiled, in a truly happy way, that night. You were the light of his life, he always felt better when you were around. He had missed you like a mad man, especially at night, when he looked at pictures of you/the both of you together on his black laptop. "And I gave you the keys for a reason. No need to say sorry. It's not like I go out on Wednesday evenings anyway.. Or any night of the week" He laughed in sarcasm. "I'm always here at this time." You laughed a bit and he took another bite of his burger

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, ok? Be right back" you said loudly as you walked to the bathroom

The day you and Jake had decided to be in a serious relationship, after you let the words "I love you" slip off of your mouth, by accident (you didn't even know if he crushed back on you, let alone reciprocating your feelings), Jake was so insecure, thinking you were just playing him, that it took him one week after that happened to finally say "I love you" back. You were getting sadder and more impatient as time passed. When he finally did, it was through texting. When you saw the message in your cellphone screen, your heart raced like a wild horse in a big forest.

ত

Later that night, you and Jake were cuddling, half sitting, half laying on the couch. Jake watched a movie on the television as you tried to read a book. But your attention span was equal to zero. You felt your boyfriend's warmth beneath your body, so comforting, so inviting. You wanted him so bad. You two had been together for almost one year and no sex had ever happened. You were starting to think that maybe he didn't find you that attractive, after all. That thought was like a rusted knife digging into your heart.

You closed your book since you couldn't go past the same sentence you were reading and re-reading all over again, too many times.

You moved your body from where it was and sat on top of Jake's legs, straddling his lap, taking him by surprise. He looked at you wondering why you suddenly gave up on your book if you had been bugging him for months about how bad you wanted to read it, but, you preferred reading a physical copy, as you told him, so he bought a copy for you that he found on sale just so you could stop talking to him about the same thing over and over. But he was actually just kidding, inside his own mind. He bought it for you because he knew you were gonna get really excited, just like a little child, and thank him by showering him with kisses. He loved being kissed by his pretty girlfriend.

"The book wasn't interesting enough, babe? Weren't you dying to read it?" He chuckled and then smiled, placing his big, warm hands on your thighs, making the small, thin hairs of that part of your body stand on end

"I just can't concentrate right now. That's all..."

"Is everything alright?" He noticed the angst in your expression

"Jake... We've been together for almost one year now, and... we haven't had sex yet. Don't you... don't you feel the need to do it with me? Do you still feel attracted to me? Why do you never try to initiate anything other than kisses and caresses? You've never even tried to touch my boobs... and you told me you loved them, over texting"

"Wait, slow down a bit" Jake asked of you and you stopped to breathe a little "Of course I feel attracted to you." He put a small lock of your hair behind your ear, so he could see your beautiful face better "I want you so bad... so fucking bad, you got no idea, girl. You drive me insane, my girl. I can't resist you when you're sitting on my lap like this" He caressed your face softly, light blue eyes staring at your own

"Then don't. Don't resist me. You don't have to. You just have to let me kiss you and touch you and show you how wet you make me, without even doing anything crazy, just by touching my skin like this and letting me sit on your lap."

"Baby, I...I can't" Jake looked down, sadness clouding his beautiful face. You hated to see your boyfriend like that. Why didn't he realize he didn't need to be so insecure? You loved him, all of him. No matter how badly he always talked about his legs or the fact that he couldn't do even basic day to day activities easily, because of his disability, you didn't care. You loved him. Freaking loved him to death.

"Why not?!" You were desperate for an explanation

"I could never be all you need. I wish I could but that's wishful thinking. Don't fool yourself, (y/n)."

Your eyes got filled with tears and you felt a lump forming in your throat. It was like your chest was sore, bruised from his harsh words.

"You are all that I want! All that I need, Jake! Why can't-"

"Don't make it harder than it already is, (y/n)!" The blonde guy interrupted you, his words colder than ice, burning your skin, already so sensitive from from taking all the hurt Jake was causing you by not letting you just simply love him right, be his girlfriend... "Get off me, please." So freezing cold...

You were a crying mess already, so, you felt so weak you just obeyed him and stood up, leaving him free from your body. Jake transferred himself from the couch to his wheelchair as fast as he could. He then started wheeling himself away from where you were

"Please...Please!" You say, chasing your crazy boyfriend like an idiot, while he moves his wheelchair fast towards his small room "stop being so insecure and just lemme love you." Jake stops, his freckled pale arms turning the wheels around so he could look at you

"Why do you insist on being tied down to a cripple?! Don't you get it?! You are so, so damn beautiful, (y/n). Your smile, your hair, your body... Jesus, your fucking body... You're so hot. You deserve... a man who can give you all that a relationship can offer. I can't be that man. I will never be him. I'm sorry you don't get it, but it's time for you to move on!!!" He yelled. You've never seen Jake so angry. His face was red, his eyes were gleaming, tears starting to roll down his face. He felt like his heart was breaking in a billion little pieces. He'd rather go through war, become traumatized and then have his spine injured all over again, because, honestly, it would hurt him less than what he was doing to you right now. But he knew he had to do it. "I love my (y/n) so much, I always will. But she should be happy, free from me." He thought

"Stop running away from me, Jacob Sully!" You ordered, as soon as you catch up to Jake, getting inside his room, your breath heavier than normal "I'm warning you, I will take you in my arms, no matter if you say you're too heavy, and I will lay you on this bed, against your will, if that's what I need to do so you will stop pushing me away! And don't ever call yourself a "cripple" again! I swear to God, you're testing me tonight! I won't let you speak like that about yourself. Never again! Do you understand me?!" You almost screamed

Jake sighed heavily, in defeat. With both arms, he started to support himself on his wheelchair, moving his body to the bed.

One he was settled there, sitting down with his back against the cushioned bed frame, he spoke: "Baby, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that... it was wrong. You don't deserve that. Please, forgive me." Looking at you with those eyes he had you on your knees, every single time.

"It's okay..." You looked hurt but your forgave him. You wanted to try and forget that had ever happened.

"I love you... so much."

You gazed at him and felt a need to comfort him

You sat on his bed, beside him and held his hand. After some time, you and Jake were cuddling, you sitting on his lap. He brought his mouth to yours and kissed your lips. You missed his kisses so much that you got wet so easily, just like a virgin would.

Jake grabbed the back of your head with care and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to massage yours. The way he kissed you was leaving your lips slicked with his saliva. You moaned and he held tight on to your waist, heavy breathing, his warm breath colliding with your own, the two of you getting drunk on each other. His lips were crushing against yours and that felt so amazing.

Out of nowhere, he stopped the kiss and when you tried to kiss him again he gently pushed you away, seeming uncomfortable.

"I gotta stop, baby... I can't pleasure you more than this..." he looked defeated

"Of course you can. You have fingers and a mouth, don't you? Then put them to use, baby. Your girl is begging you to pleasure her. Don't you want to help me out a bit?" You started to kiss his neck gently but sloppy. You breathed his scent in. It was so familiar, so comforting to you. He smelled like home. Home, for you, was wherever Jake was, right by your side.

Jake was starting to slowly give in and he let out a breathy moan. You felt happiness creeping in your head, your heart beating faster.

Jake did something that in his mind, was so damn bold. He dared to touch you in a very intimate way - he was as nervous as a teenager having his first sexual experience - moving his hand from the bed sheet until it got to your entrance. Jake's breath faltered as he touched your coated folds gently, his chest tightening while he looked at your face. His light brows furrowing, his demons still trying to convince him that you could not be turned on because of him.

"Sweetheart, you're so soft... just so... so wet." He was getting shaky, aroused as hell, feeling how wet you were for him

He was finally ready to just relax and enjoy the moment, as he touched your coated pussy.

"Wait a bit, will ya?" You ask, getting off his lap, standing on your feet and then stripping down to him. Your clothes were laying on the floor, as you felt a little shy but excited to see his reaction to seeing your naked body for the first time.

"Fuck, my baby. How did I get so lucky? Your body is so fucking perfect...." He put his hand up in the air, towards your own hands and you grabbed it and let him sit you back on his lap.

Jake started to touch your breasts softly, his mouth slightly open, desire scorching his insides. Your skin burned so good beneath his fingers. Then, he placed his big fingers on your slit

"God, this fucking wet pussy..." he was having trouble breathing but he loved the way you messed with his head

"I'm all yours, baby. Please, just let go and make love to me. I need you so bad it hurts me physically." You begged him to put an end to your misery

"Is that what my babygirl really wants?" He murmured, his voice low and sexy, ringing on your ears

"Yes, my love. Please... I'm so wet, Jake... only for you, my baby." You felt his fingers touching your pussy and your body became limp

"I love your pussy, baby. So velvety, warm and juicy. Can't wait to slide my fingers inside of you over and over again until you're all sweaty and whimpering"

❃

[97keanu]

"ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐⁱˡˡⁱᵒⁿ

ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢʰⁱⁿᵉ"

Mob Boss!John Wick x Mob Wife!Reader

Premise: It's the early 2000s, New York City. You're 27 years old, your husband, John Wick, is the head of the Slavic crime syndicate in New York. Your father married you off to him 6 years ago, to end a feud between your families. You have been John's wife for so long, but still feel like you barely know how he feels about you. He's quiet, comes home bloody and bruised, tries to keep you out of the business even though this life is all you've ever known. Will John reveal his true feelings for you when a rival family kidnaps you and holds you for ransom?

Tags/CW: stoic and suave!john, possessive!john, predator coded!john, prey coded!reader, kidnapping in, drug use, canon violence for john wick series as well as the sopranos, smut, more tags to come in later chapters.

A/N: This is going to be a 3 part limited series, but I would love to write drabbles/imagines/one-shots for these two in the future! This chapter is mainly an intro to you and John's relationship and some shameless smut, more drama in the next chapter!

Words: 3k

Gold. Your favorite color as a child, the same color as your daddy's pinky ring, you can remember peeking at it over the old wooden poker table. Your daddy laughed along with all the other men in the room, like a language you couldn't understand, the cigar smoke bitter, but sweet like vanilla if you inhaled enough. You can see all sorts of shiny objects on the poker table. You spot a silver glinting metal of a few of the men's guns politely placed on the table. The liquor they're drinking is glinting in crystal glasses, sloshing around as the men get rowdier and more incoherent. Your eyes always come back to that ring, however. Embellishments of diamond inlaid into that honey colored metal. The only thing you liked better than the glint of gold was the flash of a diamond. And daddy's ring held both. You knew even then, no more than 6 or 7 years old, that that ring would be yours one day.  You were right.  Your husband John, gave it to you as an anniversary gift last year after killing the men who killed your father. It's big enough on you to fit on your ring or middle finger. Your dear old dad was a lot of things, most not things that you loved. The only other thing he gave you in life that you were truly grateful for was arranging a truce between feuding families and setting you up to marry John.  You had no idea who this man was, not to mention he was 20 years older than you, and was the head of New York City's Slavic crime syndicate. Along with his family being a family that rivaled yours for so long, the idea of marrying this man, the man they call 'Baba Yaga', was frightening. He was harsh when you met him. You only talked 3 times before you saw him at the altar.  When you did meet him, he was well kept, incredibly so. His hair was dark, a bit long, slicked back perfectly. His face though, that was what really sent cold shivers up your spine. He looked like a wolf, his eyes were hungry for something, you couldn't even say what for sure, but you hoped your father wasn't shepherding you as a helpless sheep into John's pasture.

You were surprised when he took your hand softly, all the edges of his face jagged and sharp like a freshly cut jewel, and pressed his lips into your hand. It was from then on that you knew, despite everything else, that he would take care of you. There was something in his kiss and his steeled eyes that promised so from the get go. 

From the moment you kissed him at the altar, you knew there was something those lips were hiding, however. They were so soft, but somewhere in your mind you couldn’t help but taste blood, coppery, metallic on those perfect lips. He looked at you then, having only seen you three times before, like he was looking at something as precious as gold. You felt coveted. 

Despite this, as the honeymoon waned, and you two began to settle in as husband and wife, you thought perhaps, maybe this could work for you two. And it did, for all intents and purposes. Over the years, you two have fallen into a routine, not one you're displeased with per se. You know this is the life you were born into, being able to be a pristine trophy inside John's luxurious apartment never bothered you. He treated you well, always kept your needs met. But he was cold, distant, especially about work. You know the business, you've known it your whole life so you have no idea why he feels the need to keep you so in the dark most of the time. He barely speaks when he comes home bloodied up, weak, ready to collapse into the couch and sleep off the night finally. You dutifully help clean his wounds, silent, but those piercing eyes of his look into yours, saying more than those lips ever did. 

Because of John's reluctance to allow you anywhere close to the business, you're surprised when he comes home one night and tells you that he'll be taking you to a party. 

"A party?" Your glossy lips utter, turning around to face John from your seat at the vanity as he enters the bedroom with the news. Quite frankly, after being married for six years and rarely leaving this apartment, you're shocked. "You never take me to parties?"

"It's important you come tonight." John says simple, stepping closer to you, and slowly beginning to take off his dark suit, going down to suspenders and a crisp white button up. He isn’t giving anything away just yet. 

"Finally decided to trade me in for someone newer?" You say, obviously joking even though you know it happens. These parties that men in the business go to, your father found six different wives at them after your mother, you know how women are treated in this world. You are seen as no more than a currency of status, and you know you’re not getting any younger. 

John, however, gets really serious. His head jerks towards you, and he has that wolf look in his eye again. He bores you down with his dark, almost black eyes, his jaw set. The fear you feel from that look is one you never wish to again. 

"Don't you ever joke about that." John finally says, but he doesn't soften. "I would never let anyone else have you."

If there's one thing you know for certain that John feels about you, it's possession. He always has been protective of you, to a fault most of the time. You feel as though he's set you in the world's most gilded cage most days, and at night he comes home and tears into your body like an animal. John was never soft. He wouldn't start to be in the bedroom. He would never push you away from cuddling after, however. He just didn't seek comfort from you the way you did him. But you were grateful he allowed you to have the comfort you craved from him, even if he was silent for most of it. If you were lucky, he may even pull an arm around you after a particularly aggressive fuck. 

Not to say either that you didn’t enjoy how he took you in the bedroom, taking everything from you but your blood. And you knew he could take that too if he pleased. The aggression, the rawness of his body against yours, you had to admit, it turned you on. He never made your feel like you were lesser in the bedroom, in fact, he could give just as much as he could take. There were many times he had you propped up on the pillows, spread for him, and he lapping at you with a fervor you could hardly stand. He would tease you relentlessly if you let him, if you didn’t grab that dark hair of his and pull him into your aching pussy while telling him what you need. Begging him for what you need. His black eyes would look up at you from where he supplied pleasures that made your head spin, as if to say ‘You see this? I give you this, do not forget that I can give you such pleasures.’

And Lord, did you know, that he could do just that. Even now, as you see him undressing for the night, you can feel yourself begin to ache with want. 

John can tell he has frightened you from how he has spoken, though. So he crosses what feels like the great expanse between you two, and he kneels in front of you, his hands on your thighs. 

“Listen, I need you to understand that you never have to worry. About anything, with me.” His eyes are not exactly soft, but they are trying, which counts for something. “These eyes are focused on one woman and one woman only, do not ever doubt that, my love.”

You couldn’t help but feel compelled to believe him. Not to mention it was one of the rare times that he told you, or at least implied, his love for you. You did find yourself questioning often what John’s idea of ‘love’ was, however. You aren’t so certain your vision of love matches his, but at least it seems as if he is true to you. You begin to feel foolish for the cracks of doubt that have been plaguing you lately, you have no reason to believe John would cheat on you other than that the other mob wives have to deal with it constantly from their spouses. John is different, you must remember that. 

You nod, a few tears coming to your eyes, and John’s large hands are there to wipe them away before you even have to wonder. 

“Do not cry, solnyshko.” He says, his voice gruff, but understanding. “I do not wish for you to be hurt.”

“I hurt from being locked away here for so long…” You don’t know why you feel brave enough to say it right now, but you do. John’s eyes suddenly look unusually pained, and he glances away, blinking as if to gather himself. 

“I know, I hope bringing you to this party will help. I just…” His hand on your cheek begins to tighten, not on you, but as if the muscles in it are desperate to grasp for something they know they must not. “I do not trust your safety for much of what I do, I…I cannot lose you.”

You don’t say anything, just look at him, on his knees for you right now, seemingly begging you to understand. It’s more than you’ve seen from him in the six years you’ve lived with him. It honestly causes a few more tears to fall, you’re not sure why seeing him this way does this to you. It means a lot to you. 

“Okay, John. I will go this party with you, glady.” You say, accepting the idea, and John seems relieved. 

“Good, now, no more tears,” He brushes the last few that have sullied your cheeks with his thumb. “Come, let’s go to bed my darling…” 

As he stands from where he knelt before you, his strong hands take your arms in them, pulling you off of the plush vanity stool, and into him. He smells like smoke and gunpowder, mixed with that expensive cologne he always wears, the one that smells like pine trees and reminds you of the woods. He gently, for once, takes you into the large, black silk bed. Once you’re settled, it’s like he is ready to make a feast of your body. He’s so primal, animalistic and ready to be drunk on your scent. You let him take you, his teeth already into your neck, leaving indents, leaving his mark on you. He goes slow this time, really lets you feel how much he wants you. It doesn’t take him long to completely undress you, his hands are swift, and they work quickly to fling the little you had on to the bedroom floor. 

You gasp when his hands decide to reach for your pussy next, and you hear him chuckle as he suckles on your breast, which are heavy with lust. 

“You’re already so wet for me, my dear…” He whispers into your skin, the biting and nibbling beginning again as soon as the words leave his lips.

His hands work like magic, starting with teasing your poor pussy. He doesn’t go for your clit right away, no, he works slowly, but deliberately around it, testing your want and your wetness. He continues to lower his bites along your body, going down further and further, saving your swelling clit for his tongue to savor. He spreads your legs roughly, your breath catching as you’re so suddenly exposed. You feel the cold air of the room against the heat between your legs, and watch as John looks over your body with nothing but pure hunger and satisfaction in his eyes. You can’t believe you ever thought he would look for someone else when he looks at you like this nearly every night. How foolish…

Before your thoughts can be taken by things that simple do not matter in this moment, John is plunging his tongue into your cunt, hungry to taste you, a low growl escaping his lips and vibrating the tender flesh there. You moan out, your legs trying to close, but a firm hand guiding your thigh back down to the bed, holding it there. You continue to squirm, your hands finally finding purchase in his tossled dark hair, and you feel as if you have found an anchor in the deepest depths of an angry sea, ready to consume you if you do not hold onto something. 

You breath hitches higher as he sucks on your hardening clit, pulling all of it to attention in his mouth and driving you mad. He continues to over stimulate you like this until you’re begging him, breathless and tossing your head back into the silk pillows, to stop, to let you go. Unfortunately, you are his prey, and he will have his way with you however he can, so while he releases your tender clit from his mouth for a moment, he is slipping two fingers inside you with a swiftness that causes you to see stars. You always forget how good he is at this, how could you ever underestimate his power to bring you to the edge like this?

John pumps his fingers inside you, working that spot that drives you crazy, and you can barely speak coherently. He loves making you such a mess for him, a wordless, breathless mess that tangles in John’s sheets. 

John allows you to get closer and closer like this, and just when you’re screaming out his name, finding some words that convey how close you are, how you’re so ready, does he slip his fingers out from inside of you. The whine you let out from this surprises you, even makes you blush from embarrassment. You can’t believe how badly he makes you want him.

John lifts himself to his knees, freeing his cock from his tight pants, and you’re always taken back from how long and girthy it is. You know you can take his cock, you have many times before, but you know how much it stretches you out anyways. Your stomach is in knots from how full you wish to be of him. John can see the hunger in your eyes and wastes no time, grabbing your thighs and pulling you close in one fell manuever. He lines himself up with you, then wets his cock with your juices so he can slide into you easily. He always makes sure not to rut into you dry, he wants you soaking for him at all times during this. 

John finally gives you what you want, your moan loud enough that you don’t doubt the neighbors know what this man does to you. His cock slips in so perfectly, going deeper and deeper, inch by inch, until he is at his limit inside you, your pussy completely full of him. You reach out to pull him close to you, but John stops you. 

“I want to see you touch yourself for me, darling. I need to see your face when you cum on my cock…” He is so instructional, so demanding. You know you have to give him what he wants. 

You stay laid on your back, while John keeps up on his knees, still so deep inside of you. You work your hand down to your clit, your other hand grasping at your own breast with desperation for something to hold onto. You can’t help it, you’re already losing yourself, your hands working and your moans giving a show for John. You know he loves when you really let yourself feel it, and you can feel yourself tighten around his cock as it pumps into you from how good you are feeling. 

As John continues, you look up at him, your eyebrows drawn and your face so close to ecstasy, your body so tight and close to giving you the release you desperately need. You know John's close too, his face turning from one of someone so focused on their partner's pleasure, to someone who can barely keep their eyes open from how good it feels. The thought that somehow, right now, you have a small bit of power over him, turns you on. The fact that it's your pussy that makes him devolve into a mess of breaths and soft groans is so satisfying you can feel yourself start to cum. That's all it takes for John to join you, his cock twitching and full, going deeper into you with each long thrust as you both finish together. You can feel the rush of heat as he delivers his pleasure unto you. 

John collapses beside you, spent. You move, your body sore where John held your legs open for so long. You find your way onto his sweaty chest, laying your head down onto his defined chest muscles. John wraps an arm around you, his hand gently, so slowly, petting your hair. You know he isn't the super affectionate type, but you also know that you've been together long enough that your husband cannot refuse you on much. Especially not when the two of you can relax into each other. 

You softly close your eyes and count John's breath, trying to match yours to his. You aren't sure after what count it happened, but you fall asleep in John's arms. 

[redheadjustin]

Hope you are having a good day/night?

Imagine if Joker took DNA from Jason during the time he had captured him and used it to create a child, whom he raises to be his predecessor. Now what happeneds when Jason finds out he has a son? And not only that he's being raised by the man who tortured and killed him! (Maybe even a lil batfam/Bruce to help out Jason deal with everything) and what if he is around the same age as when Jason died?

It was a dark and gloomy night in Gotham which was nothing unusual. It was even darker around Wyane manor. A young man in his early twenties walked in the main doors of the impressive estate. He had a military haircut with a white stripe in his hair. And a jagged scar that started on the left side of his lips all the way to the crown of his head. This man was Jason Todd, and he was grumpy as usual. He was called to the batcave when he’d rather be sleeping. Jason had just gotten back to Gotham after an undercover mission in Scotland. The brute of the man dragged his tired body through the main entryway of the manor and to Bruce’s downstairs study. All the while Jason had to fight off memories. These were good memories. But, Jason was far too tired to allow himself to reminisce. Even in the good ones. Once Jason reached the downstairs study it was automatic, reaching for the switch that opened the fake bookcase and revealed the elevator.

Jason had a half smile on his face as he stepped into the elevator. The door closed and his destination had been set all before Jason could turn around to face the elevator. The elevator was slower than usual. Jason tried to keep his eyes open. But his exhaustion won out for a few seconds and his eyes closed. And flashes of memories filled Jason’s mind. A blonde woman, his Robin suit, a crowbar, blood, a bomb, him trying to escape, resignation to dying, green liquid, his eyes opening, rage, Talia, Bruce, JOKER, that laugh, his gun pointed at the bastard, Bruce forgiving him, welcoming him back to the family. Jason is pulled out of his memories by the soft chime of the elevator. Jason shakes his head and walks out of the elevator. And Jason’s smile is back. He’d always loved the batcave. The trophies, the training area and most of all the quiet. It was a place for Jason to clear his head. Especially once he came back from the dead. It seemed ever since his dip in the pit Jason had a lot of anger and thoughts floating into his head at all hours of the day. The only time his head was clear was during petrol. And it was something Jason needed a lot these days.

“Jason.” Jason looks up at the call of his voice. It was his older brother, Dick Grayson. Jason’s legs were moving to his brother without him thinking about it. “Thanks for coming, little wing.” Dick says with his trademark grin and slinging an arm around Jason’s shoulder. Jason lets a snort out, “when Bruce texts me saying ‘batcave now’ i don't exactly have a choice.” It sounded resentful but Dick knew that it was a joke. Dick, Barbra, Jason and Tim all make jokes on how they all drop everything when Burce asks for them. “No, no you didn’t. But tonight it was really important. And you came. I’ll let the old man explain but, the WHOLE family is here.” Dick says as he leads Jason towards the batcomputer. “Wait, the WHOLE family?” Jason asked, alarm suddenly growing in his stomach. Dick didn’t respond and instead kept walking and soon Jason could see the ENTIRE bat family. Burce, Alfred, Barbra, Tim, Damian, Stephine, Cassandra, Duke, Luke, Kate and Selina were all gathered around the bat computer. This was big.

At Dick’s footsteps Burce turns and once he sees Jason a small smile finds its way on the face of the Dark knight. “Thank you for coming, Jason. I know you just got back from overseas and must be tired. But, this takes priority.” Burce says as he raises from his chair. And for a second Jason thought he was 11 again first meeting him. But he's not. And this is more serious than Jason was used to. Not to say that the stuff the family usually deals with isn’t serious, it is, but for some reason when he was Robin things were more fun. And less about trying to save the world and just protect Gotham.

“I’ll get straight to business because this involves the entire family and then me and the others will cover your beat.” Burce started as he sat back into his chair and hit a button and the face Jason still sees in his nightmares, Joker. “About two nights ago Joker was reported missing from Aharkham. Harely was covering for him and his son.” The last word sent a chill down Jason’s spine and he doesn’t know why. He wanted to interrupt but he knew Bruce would explain. “During your flight from Europe, Joker attacked. When we arrived on scene there was a boy about 14 with green hair but normal skin and eyes. Once he saw us he surrendered instantly. He claimed to be your son instead of Joker’s. We took a field DNA sample. Alfred confirmed his relation to you. We immediately brought him back to the cave and we examined the thumb drive he gave us. Joker took your DNA right before he killed you.” Burce finished as he stood and looked into Jason’s eyes. Jason knew. He knew. There was no doubt, he had a son.

“Jason.” Burce said in a soft voice. Jason couldn’t look away. He was a father. And his son was raised by the mam- MONSTER who killed him and is the reason he's much more buff than before. “This is a shock. I understand how you feel.” Bruce did understand just a few years back, Damian joined the family. But this is not as “pure” intentioned. A madman took his DNA to make a son. HIS son and raise it to be like him. Jaon was ferrous. He wanted to kill Joker more than he ever wanted before. “But, right now there is a 14 year old boy in the gymnastics room. And he wants to meet you.”

And with that Jason is moving towards the gymnastics room. He can hear someone call out to him but he doesn’t care. His son needs him. And that’s all that deserves his attention. Soon Jason is walking into the room. He can see his son flipping like Dick does. The green hair sticks out like a sore thumb. Jason knows hair dye from a mile away. If his son wants to continue to dye it Jason will let him. Jason watches with a proud smile as his son dismounts and sticks the landing and Jason can’t stop himself from clapping.

“Nice dismount. Almost as good as Uncle Dick.” Jason said with a smile. The second the words left Jason’s mouth the boy’s head snapped over and if Jason doubted he had a son looking into the boy’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. The boy, already having tears in his eyes Ran to his father and Jason caught him. The hug was tight and filled with love. “It’s okay baby hood. Daddy’s got you.” and while it might be weird to say that to a teenager Jason had missed almost all of his son's life so far, so for Jason he is daddy. “It’s okay bud, I got you. I got you. ”

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Handle With Care — Aaron Hotchner x Nanny Reader

After loosing her job as a chef and video content creator, Y/N agrees to take the job as a full-time live in nanny for Aaron Hotchner. Her father, Martin, had taken Aaron under his wing at Georgetown Law and again when he hired him as an agent for the BAU. Years later, Aaron is on top of world professionally, but struggles to maintain the balance he wants for his newly fractured family. The loss of his wife, mother seemed too much for them to bear. And somewhere along the lines they made it work— as a team.

Note: Ugh!! So I am a sucker for a single dad and nanny fic! I know, I know but it’s fiction for a reason. This will must certainly include smut later on that will be pretty important to the plot and the main character’s self discovery.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

I always believed in new beginnings, but as I stood on Aaron’s doorstep, rolling a suitcase in one hand and a Vera Bradley duffel bag in the other, I was tempted to question my resolute thinking. It had yet to fail me. Not when I was hardly eighteen and living on the other side of the country, vying for my spot at the esteemed culinary arts program. And not when I’m twenty-four with a stint as the Lead Chef for a failed influencer chef on a highly syndicated social media app under my belt.

Professional chef turned nanny–for my father’s beloved mentee, no less. My parents, ever supportive and ever loving, practically held an intervention when I showed up on their suburban door step a fractured shell of the bubbly daughter they dropped off at the airport.

Five years later, I’m sleeping in the same bed. I had nightmares about leaving once again. And yesterday I gave up that bed for a full-time position as Aaron Hotchner’s live-in nanny. Aaron, who I never even met, is my father’s protege. He knew him as a whip-smart, young lawyer from a family Law dynasty at Quantico. My father took him under his wing and even after his early retirement from the BAU they would get together for an annual work lunch.

I was nearly finished with my final year of the Los Angeles Culinary Arts Program when my fathers called to say that Aaron’s wife was murdered. I remembered thinking how lucky Dad was and how brave Daddy had to be. With one day off saving the world and the other left to hold down the fort with an awfully anxious only child daughter.

One year later, I was unemployed and completely blacklisted from the culinary entertainment industry for reasons beyond my control and without my fault. I gripped the suitcase, my chipped fingernails so jagged they punctured my skin.

Aaron had a nice house with a manicured front lawn, a big wrap around porch, and a fully furnished backyard. Clearly, he was a man with a lot of education and a lot of smarts to top it off. He worked hard. It showed, these neighborhoods of Arlington, Virginia weren’t cheap. No wonder my dads were dying to relocate to Georgia.

The door swung open before I could work up the courage to ring the bell or knock on the dark cherry wood. Aaron answered. He wore a dark green men’s quarter zip that was pushed up, showing off his forearms. His dark, charcoal gray watch shone as he let me into his foyer.

He had a foyer.

And a house that smelt like warm cinnamon and musk.

[halfagone]

Here’s a relatively simple prompt, Danny meets Adrien and Marinette while he’s visiting Paris, and they see him easily resist akumatization. Naturally, shenanigans ends. What do you think?

Now that would be funny!! The angsty route is always well and good and all but the idea that Danny just doesn't have time or can't be bothered with Hawkmoth's (or Shadowmoth's. Or Monarch's [Dang, for a fashion designer you are not the most creative guy out there are you, Gabriel?]) akumatization attempts on him so he just swats the butterflies away. Oh~ Now there's an idea:

---

Marinette had seen many tourists come and go. Her family patisserie had slowly grown in fame over the years, and having Jagged Stone himself come over on live television had certainly helped with profits. (Although she could have gone without the man in her room and showing off all her Adrien pictures.) She was well aware that the shop was now on some travel agency websites and a number of foodie digest lists, so an influx of tourists were to be expected.

She had, however, been pleasantly surprised to meet a visiting American family. Marinette swore her father could have been related to the other man, if only for the sheer size and body structure. The auburn hair had suited the mother more, a Mrs. Dr. Fenton, and it had given them all a good laugh to see how well the two married couples mirrored each other.

Unlike Marinette's family, there were two children, a older girl that always treated Marinette kindly- often trying to speak in butchered French but hey, she could appreciate the effort. The younger boy, who was around Marinette's age actually, easily could have been Marinette's brother. There were some notable differences, obviously, but if you didn't look hard enough they could have been twins. The boy, Danny, had taken great amusement to this.

And so had Adrien.

That part had Marinette a little anxious. She hadn't been expecting Adrien to come over today, now of all times! She had been so sure he was busy with another photo shoot, but as it turned out Lila had made a big fuss and Adrien was free to roam, using it as an excuse to flee the scene. Marinette had worried he would get in trouble for it, but then he'd smiled at her in that way he always did and oh alright, Marinette was a goner.

Adrien and Danny got along well. Almost too well, in Marinette's opinion. She didn't mind that Adrien had other friends; honestly, he deserved all the friends and love in the world! But the moment those two started punning at each other, mixing in physics facts just because they could, Marinette began to regret some life choices.

But even despite her exasperation, she'd enjoyed herself! After some debate she had taken the two boys up into her room with some treats to snack on while they hung out. It wasn't often that Marinette brought relative strangers to her room, her private space and her haven, but her parents had been sharing awfully personal information with the Fenton parents as well, so she figured it would be alright.

Danny was nice and clever, a tricky teen with a silver tongue, and a heart of gold. Marinette would have invited Jazz- Danny's sister- to join them had she not caught the eye of an older boy Marinette had seen around sometimes. She seemed busy with that, so Marinette let her be.

Everything had been going well, beautifully even, until there was a sudden shout of "Ghost!" from downstairs and Danny flinched. Marinette had startled at the sight of it. She'd been more frightened by Danny's reaction than the sudden shout, actually. That would have been fine, a passing thought even, had it not been for the butterfly flapping through the window at the exact moment.

She and Adrien were instantly to their feet, jumping back and away from the innocent-but-cruel butterfly. Danny didn't seem to notice it at all, and just when she and Adrien went to say something- Danny turned his head, stared the akuma head-on, and waved it away. She watched, dumbfounded, as Danny veered his head from side to side, looking annoyed of all things as the akuma persisted after him.

"I am busy right now, begone!" Danny remarked, half-joking by the sound of it. She gaped at him in confusion for a while, her hunches lowering when she realized the akuma wasn't doing anything? It was clearly attracted to Danny's negative emotions, so why couldn't it possess an object? "How do I get rid of this thing?"

"Usually you need to release your negative emotions," Adrien commented with a frown, looking just as lost despite his reply. "But I've only seen that happen after the akuma has settled."

"Wow, so all those pamphlets hadn't been kidding, huh?" Danny remarked ruefully. He gave the butterfly a rude side-eye. "Well, if that's what it takes-" Danny reached out a hand, letting the akuma catch onto his watch and possess it.

"NO!" She and Adrien shouted at once, horrified.

But Danny continued to surprise them both by commenting, "Woah, you talk too much. And that's saying something from blabbermouth extraordinaire over here." The butterfly mask over Danny's eyes flashed a little brighter, much to their surprise. "Excuse moi ? That's awfully rude and I- Okay, but what if I don't care about Ladybug and Chat Noir? This sounds a lot like free child labor and I'm on vacation here. So what do I care about special powers, they're temporary? Oh, big deal! You can threaten me once you've showed your ugly ass to my face. Yeah, that's what I thought."

The akuma lifted from Danny's watch and innocently fluttered away. Marinette would have to catch that before someone else got akumatized. And yet she could do nothing more than stare at Danny in complete shock and confusion.

Danny stared back at them, before snatching some pain du chocolat from the plate. "So you were saying?"

[foreverrandomwritings]

With sweet Javy, to each other ❝  hey,  is this asshole bothering you?  ❞, to a third party ❝  get lost.  ❞, [ CLAIM ]  for one muse to possessively place their hands on their shoulders or hips. 

Darts With a Side of Secret

Summary: You and Jake are waiting at the bar for Javy. When he arrives he tells Jake a little secret. This is going to be added to my You and Javy and his friend Jake short series. But it can be read as a separate part just like the other ones can be.

Pairing: Javy "Coyote" Machado x afab!Reader Bromance Javy "Coyote" Machado x Jake "Hangman" Seresin Platonic!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x afab!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, bar, alcohol, mission and a little sexual innuendo, you'll miss it if you blink kinda thing.

Word count:1118

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist Series Masterlist

You and Jake had been at the hard deck for about an hour or so. Javy had stayed at the base late finishing up some paperwork from his last mission. Jake had picked you up from your house on the way to the bar. That way you wouldn’t have to worry about driving two cars home. You had bet Jake that you could beat him in darts which was likely to happen because he thought it was funny to see you brag about winning sometimes. You, Javy and Jake all knew he took it easy on you but none of you ever said anything. 

“If I make this one then you have to pick up my tab for tonight.” You rolled the dart between your fingers, the jagged metal digging into your skin delightfully. 

“No fucking way that’s gonna happen. I just bought your dinner the other night. You��re gonna fucking make me go broke.” He scoffed at you before taking a drink of his beer. You both knew that the statement was false. Between the money he got from the Navy and his family wealth he didn’t have any financial worries. 

“Not my fault you suck at darts. Maybe if you weren’t so worried about picking up air bunnies you’d actually be able to practice sometime.” Your words were playful, it had become an inside joke in the squad that Jake was a player. But you knew better than that, he rarely ever slept with any of the women he left with. He would normally make sure they got home safely before going home himself. But he had already been labeled as a man whore so he figured he’d put on a show. 

“I’m gonna tell Javy that you’re being mean to me.” your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. There was a playful twinkle in his eyes as he gave you a big toothy grin.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You glared at him, he gave you a nonchalant shrug.

“Is this asshole bothering you?” It was almost like Javy knew you were talking about him as he came to stand behind you, hands placing themselves on your hips, chin laying on your shoulder. You gave Jake a smirk causing his own to fall from his lips. 

“Yes actually he is.” Jake went to protest but Javy started laughing, you could feel the vibrations from his chest on your back. 

“Get lost.” Jake gaped at you as Javy jested, you held your hand out to him expectantly waiting for him to place his last dart in your palm. 

“You’re taking her side?” Jake placed the red dart in your hand anyways, you stuck your tongue out at him. 

“You’re not the one that I plan on going home with tonight.” Javy’s smooth voice and the innuendo in his words had your whole body igniting with warmth. 

“This isn’t fair. I should’ve never set the two of you up.” The blonde continued to grumble as he mopped away, going to the pool table where some of the squad were playing a game. 

“He’s so whiny.” You turned in your boyfriend's hold coming face to face with him. You took in the sharpness of his jawline and the smirk on his lips. When your eyes met his brown ones, they had a sparkle in them. 

“He was just mad because you were about to hand him his ass in darts again.” you giggled at his reply, fingers drumming across his chest. He grabbed your wrist and brought your hand up to his lips kissing your fingers before grabbing the two darts from your other hand. 

“If I hit bullseye with both of these you gotta do that thing I like when we get home tonight.” His lips brushed your ear as he whispered into it. Your cheeks heated up at his words, mind becoming foggy at the thought of what he meant. 

“Let’s see what you got then hot stuff.” You gave him space to throw the darts, hand dramatically gesturing towards the board. He gave you a wink before he skillfully sent the first dart through the air. It hit the center of the board and he sent the other one through the air quickly after. It hit the center of the board as well. 

“Well sugar?” He turned to you with both of his eyebrows perked up. You gave him a teasing smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“I’m ready to go home whenever you are.” You walked past him, landing a hand on his ass and sending him a wink. His eyes followed the sway of your hips as you walked to the bar. 

“I taught both of you everything you know about darts you realize that right?” Jake came up and slapped a hand on Javy’s shoulder. 

“Yea, yea, yea. Whatever you say man.” Javy glanced at his best friend and saw the smile on his face. His eyes fluttered back to your form leaning against the bar talking to Penny and he let out a long breath, shoulders relaxing. 

“I wasn’t at work ya know.” Javy desperately needed to tell someone where he was at. Jake looked at him questioningly, confusion clear in his expression. 

“Where were you then?” Javy hadn’t lied to you in the two years you had been dating so Jake wasn’t sure why he had started now. 

“I was looking at rings.” Jake’s mouth fell open before he punched Javy’s arm.

“Ow. What the fuck was that for man?” Javy rubbed the spot that Jake's fist had just come in contact with.

“You were looking at rings to propose to her without me? How dare you?” Jake pouted his lips as he glared at the New Orleans man.

“I didn’t buy one yet you asshole. You can come with me when I do. Now shut up she’s coming back over here.” They both looked back towards the bar and saw you walking their way with three beers in your hands. 

“What’re you boys talking about?” you asked them as you handed them each a bottle. 

“I was just asking Javy about taking the dogs on a hike this weekend. I heard one of the techs talking about a spot that I want to go to.” Javy was grateful for his friend's quick thinking. 

“Gumbo and Ella would love that. What time were we thinking?” Your excitement was clear in your words as your eyes got wider and your tone got a little higher. Javy took you in as you and his best friend talked about this weekend and he thanked whatever was out there that he was lucky enough to have these two amazing people in his life.

A/N: This is the finale of my month-long pride celebration and my hundred celly posts. I can't believe I've posted something everyday for the whole month and that I've gotten through all my requests. Thank you everyone that has shown me so much love during this time and to everyone that requested something for my celebration.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell @taytaylala12 @eternallyvenus @loving-and-dreaming @princess76179 @kmc1989 @qjdjjexnsk (slash through means I couldn't tag you)

[honkytonk-hangman]

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist

Teacher's Pet [Hangman x Reader] Summary: You need to come up with a lesson plan to teach your eighth graders about aerodynamics, only, you barely understand a word of it yourself. Luckily for you, your boyfriend has a pretty decent knowledge of the subject.

Afterburn [Hangman x Reader] Summary: It had been clear from the moment you got inside a cockpit that you were going to be something special. You certainly weren’t the youngest Naval Aviator to be invited to TOPGUN, but you had been the youngest to graduate at number one in more than thirty years. Which is all the more reason why it was so tragic that you would never, ever, be able to fly again.

Meet You All The Way [Rooster x OC/Reader] Summary: Now that they had reconciled, Rooster is struggling to figure out the right way to tell Maverick that he had a family all of his own now.

Hold The Line [Platonic Hangman x OC/Reader] Summary: Jake presses his lips together as he lets out a sigh. He leans forward on the railing again, eyes once more following the little boy who was quite happily playing by himself in the sand. “I just thought that Baby Goose deserved to grow up knowing his dad.”

Line of Sight [Hangman x Reader] COMPLETE Summary: You’re almost certain that Jake Seresin could care less about you, that is, until you’re in a tight spot and the one guy you assume will hang you out to dry, instead comes to your rescue.

Cont. ↓

How it's Done [Hangman x Aviator!Reader] Summary: “Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

What You Want [Rooster x Reader] Summary: Rooster is aware that despite working together for a little over six months now, he doesn’t really know you all that well. One late night walk to your car later, Rooster realises he’d like that to change.

Goodness! Gracious! [Rooster x Reader] Summary: You wouldn’t say you were trying to give your 'Uncle’ Mav a taste of his own medicine, after all, it was him who introduced you to Rooster in the first place, but you weren’t exactly trying to spare the man, either.

Good In Bed [Hangman x Reader] Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you’re only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?

Checkmate [Hangman x Reader] Summary: You’ve been transferred to Dagger Squad, which is both good and bad. Good, because it meant the brass felt you belonged with the best. Bad, because the best already had a tight friendship group, and you were not yet apart of that. And you may never be, if you keep making fun of a certain someone’s callsign.

In Sickness... [Hangman x Reader] Summary: Jake feels his pulse jump and his stomach fly when he talks to or about you. Obviously, this must mean he’s gravely ill.

...And In Health [Hangman x Reader] Summary: A year after Jake has come to terms with his sickness, he might just have the opportunity to find the cure.

Devil In Disguise [Hangman x Reader] Summary: in which Jake finds out the female officer he’s been eye fucking for half an hour is actually JAG.

Big Girl [Hangman x Reader] Summary: Jake Seresin doesn’t believe you should hide your light under a bushel, no.

SunKissing [Hangman x Reader] Summary: Eight and a half months Dagger had been at sea, which is honestly one of the shorter deployments Jake had been on, certainly not one he’d have usually complained about, except that this time, for the first time, Jake had somewhere else he wanted to be aside from in his jet.

Flight Risk [Hangman x Reader] Summary: The sky beyond the baking tarmac is cloudless, and washed with deep reds and oranges, the way it always is by the time Jake lands when the monthly inter-squad training simulation has drawn to a close. Almost always. Today, the sky had been a bright Carolina blue.

Today, Hangman had been shot down.

Take Care Of Business [40s AU Hangman x Reader] The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

All This Love [Hangman x Reader] “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound. “Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.

When Jake Met Polly [Hangman x Reader] Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.