#the amount of gifs i went through of him before settling on this one……

[airbendertendou]

I MISS THE WAY YOU SAY MY NAME! [the way you bend ; the way you break] ♡ murayama yoshiki

synopsis ; running into your ex seems to set off a chain of events — ones he could have prevented.

cw : darker content than usual! kidnapping [not by yama] , yakuza boss!murayama , manipulation , mind-break , probably not as good as you're hoping </3 , exes to lovers if you squint

dedicated to @straysugzhpe happiest of birthdays, bestie! ♡ released this later than i wanted to but i digress <3

song inspo ; the death of peace of mind by bad omens

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

The streets of SWORD weren’t new to you. They were where you grew up ; where you met your first love and he broke your heart. Not purposely, you think ; he told you long distance wouldn’t work, wouldn’t keep you as connected as he needed to be.

Your friends told you it was a bad relationship anyways ; a toxic, nasty thing you were lucky didn’t fester into more. But, you didn’t believe that. Sure, he was protective and always made sure to have one hand holding you at all times. He was never afraid to get bloody hands and bruised knuckles just for you. It was innocent — sweet and reassuring to your pre-adolescent mind. 

Letting out a sigh, you twist and turn in the mirror. The outfit you’d chosen was snug, but still comfortable enough to move in. Taking a break from school would be fun — relaxing. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Coming back to your hometown of SWORD would be fine — there would be a slim chance anyone you grew up with stayed, anyways.

Taking in a deep breath, you shut and lock your door, heading to the Daruma district. The Rascals district was a bit too far from your hotel for your comfort, so you stayed close by. The bass in the club was booming when you arrived, nodding your head to the beat absentmindedly as you were welcomed in. 

Eyes were cemented into you as soon as you stepped through the door. Sliding down your figure and focusing on the curves of your body as you drifted through the club’s crowd. You ignore the stares, moving to the bar to grab a drink to calm your nerves. 

Looking around the club as the bartender made your drink, you frown. This place felt unfamiliar — new ; changed. The decor was modern ; songs playing overhead none you knew ; the people surrounding you even seemed different. Coming back to your hometown was supposed to bring fond memories to the forefront of your mind, not confusing emotions swirled with anxiety. 

Something about the club seemed dangerous. A dark cloud leering over as shady glances are exchanged and people are led to a more private area. The music was too loud to start a conversation, let alone overhear anything you weren’t meant to. 

You were starting to regret this — only a little bit. 

As your drink is slid over, you take a hefty gulp. Only to choke when your eyes connect with a pair you knew too well. Murayama Yoshiki is staring your way, a cigarette perched between his lips as he ignores the people talking to him. When your eyes meet, he tilts his head as if daring you to make your way over. 

You do the opposite ; spinning to face the bar as you down your drink. 

It’s not long before Murayama is sliding in beside you, elbow leaning on the bar as he gazes at you. You avoid his eyes, staring down at your cup and following its condensation trail with your finger. He hums, “you’re back.” 

“Just visiting.” You correct him. Glancing his way, you see his eyes are still wide and pretty as they stare longingly your way. You clear your throat, “I didn’t think you’d still be in town.”

A secret tilts up the right side of his mouth, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Yeah. It wouldn’t be SWORD without a leader.”

“And that leader is you?”

“Who else?” Murayama snorts again — demeaning, it sounds — before knocking back his own drink. He motions to your empty glass before nodding at the bartender for a refill. As the worker gets busy, Murayama focuses his sights back on you — his gaze makes you tremble ; weak the way it had years before. “You jus’ in town to visit? That’s all ; nothin’ else?”

You lick your lips, smiling to the bartender when your new drink is slid your way. “What else would I come back for?”

A harsh, scoff-like laugh leaves his lips. Murayama repeats your question sarcastically, nodding to himself. He sips his drink, looking at you one more time before tapping the bar and standing. “If that’s all, then…”

Just like years before, he was gone without another thought.

Maybe you’d been a little harsher than intended. Seeing your ex again had been a shock, but maybe— no. This is exactly what your friends had told you. He has a way of getting into your head, [name]. You always end up going back.

You twirl your finger around the rim of your glass, frowning as your thoughts overcrowded the music. Was going back such a bad thing, after all? You were happy with Murayama — on the cusp of being in love. He was convinced the distance wouldn’t work — that you’d forget him and find someone better. 

You never did — you never would. 

Gulping back the rest of your drink, you pay and stand to leave. Curls of dark hair catch your attention and solidify your decision. Stalking after Murayama, you struggle to catch up to him with the crowd. The air is brisk and cold as the club’s door opens for you, taking your breath momentarily until you hear his laugh.

Just before you can tap his shoulder, your mouth is covered and everything goes dark.

——♡——

Your hands are tied behind your back, lips taped shut as you gain consciousness. Heaving in a breath through your nose, you blink a few times before realizing you don’t know where you are ; before remembering what happened. Panic crawls up your throat, coming out as whines against the tape. You struggle with the ropes binding you, your wrists growing raw and sore from the material.

The room you’re in is small, no sign of any windows and only a single door. There’s nothing but a lightbulb that hangs above you, illuminating the small area. 

A creak echoes in the room, the door opening slowly to reveal… nothing. No one was standing there. Heaving in a breath in attempt to control your panic, you tug on the ropes a few more times before stopping. Footsteps hit your ears next, tantalizingly slow as they approach the room you’re in. 

A mask — there’s a cracked, porcelain faced mask facing you. You inch back quickly, your back hitting the wall too quick for your liking. They inch closer to you slowly, crouching down when they finally get to where they want to be. Your lip trembles underneath the tape, tears filling up your lashline and dripping down your cheeks.

The masked person wipes them softly before standing and leaving abruptly. 

No windows ; no telling what time or day it was. The person would only come by once, forcing stale bread in your mouth and tipping hot water into your mouth soon after. You always choked on it, the water dribbling down your chin and to your torso, leaving a trail of hot water in its wake. On their fourth visit, they went as far to tug on the rope binding your hands, tutting sarcastically as if they felt sorry for your situation. 

The hotel you were staying in had to have given your room away by now. Your hands were sore, cuticles ripped and bloody from your attempts at leaving. Sniffling, you could feel your face burn with the tears that had made their own tracks on your cheeks. Your mouth was free from the tape now, but still felt chapped and raw.

You hadn’t said a word ; you didn’t dare to.

And then the door slammed open uncharacteristically. You flinched at the noise, eyes staying on the floor to avoid looking at the cracked mask. Heaving breaths echo around the room, stomping feet paralleling the sound as your kidnapper approaches you. Hands grip your upper arms in a tight, bruising hold as they lift you from your sitting position. They’re muttering to themselves, words you don’t bother to hear.

You get to what seems to be a sitting room, the tv playing a missing persons ad of you. Someone knew — they knew you were gone and they were trying to find you. Hope swelled in your chest briefly before dropping. What are the chances they’d find you ; the chances you’d go home alive?

You’re suddenly dropped to the floor as multiple footsteps head your way. The porcelain mask falls to the ground, only a vivid thunk, thunk, thunk! sound hitting the air around you. It stops soon — only after a crunch is heard. Your cheeks are being held by calloused, bloody hands as a voice begs you to focus. You can’t look away ; can only watch as the mask cracks even more.

“Look at me, baby,” it sounds like a whisper. Thumbs tap under your eyes, the hands shake your head gently in order to grab your attention. “It’s me, [name]. Look at me, jus’ me.”

Murayama’s face is the first thing you see. It’s the first thing that greets you outside of a swinging lightbulb ; outside of a porcelain mask ; outside of that dingy, dark room. He rubs your cheeks once more, the stranger’s blood smearing over your tears. “Come back to me, baby.”

“You found me.”

He wants to sob at the sound of your voice. It sounds so broken and cracked ; your voice fighting a whisper and climbing up your throat desperately. There’s a dazed look in your eyes that’s familiar to him ; one you’d get when overwhelmed. 

Your hands are untied — they fall to the ground lifelessly as you continue to stare at Murayama. He gulps, hands dropping from your face to lace through your fingers. “Of course I found you. Told you I would.”

“When we broke up,” you lick your lips. There were people in suits streaming past you both ; hushed and loud conversations passing by non-listening ears. Murayama nods, a soft smile on his face as his thumbs brush your knuckles. “You said we’d get back together when the time is right. I remember.”

“Time’s always been right.” It’s hushed, pressed against your forehead as he helps you stand. Numerous people in suits — the FBI, maybe? — allow you both to pass as if you don’t exist. It’s nighttime as you’re led out of the building you were held in, the sky dark and air cold. Murayama crouches between your legs as he makes you sit. A lady takes your temperature and assesses you medically — but your attention is centered on him. He looks down at your intertwined hands, “jus’ let you have a li’l fun first. That’s all.”

You don’t respond. Eyes fluttering, Murayama pulls you to his chest gently, patting the back of your head. “Rest,” he whispers against the night air. “Rest now, you’re safe with me.”

When you wake up, you’re pressed to a cloud-like bed, the scent of Murayama surrounding you. You groan, your throat still sore as you struggle to swallow. A hand guides you to sit, tenderly rubbing your back as you settle. Blinking to your left, a grinning Murayama greets you. “Mornin’, baby. Got some water here for you,” he helps you hold the glass as you take tentative sips. “Breakfast should be on its way soon.”

“Where am I?”

“My place.” He looks around the room as if it’s brand new to him, too. Clearing his throat, Murayama holds your hand in his. “Need’a let you heal for a while, hm?”

You lick your lips again, feeling a little more awake than you were before. You feel more present ; aware as his hands linger and brush around places bruises had been left. “When can I go home?”

“You are home, baby,” he chuckles. Murayama brings your hand up, kissing your knuckles before resting the back of it against his cheek. “I’ll take care of you now, keep you safe.”

“I need to go home, Yoshiki.”

He lets out another laugh — this one sounds cruel ; judgemental as he shakes his head. “This is home.” His eyelashes slide up as he finally meets your eyes with that darkened gaze you’d grown accustomed to. “Jus’ got you back. I’m not lettin’ you leave again.”

You’re pulled to his chest as every other thought leaves your mind. He was right, after all. Murayama was the one to find you — the one who took you from your kidnapper and kept you safe. Snuggling close to his chest, you fight off the hazy, blurred memories of being in that room.

“Okay,” you breathe. A barely there peck is placed on the center of his chest, right beside his heart. You move your face to his neck, arms wrapping around his torso. “I’ll stay here.”

Murayama grins. His plan worked after all, hm? As soon as he spotted you in the club, he knew you’d be coming home to him, one way or another. Hiring a lowly new guy to take you was easy — he did his job well, even if it ended in his death. But, it was all worth it in the end. You were back with him — back where you belonged.

You’re squished closer to his body with a hum. Murayama kisses the top of your head, “‘course you will. You’ll be safe now, [name]. I’ll make sure of it.”

——♡—— tagging my other h&l babies here! @star2fishmeg @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @strxwberrychocolate @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy if youd like to b tagged / untagged, let me know! ♡ airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[markster666]

Every Thought, You. (SFW)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Flirting, SFW, Romance

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 958

A/N: Thank you to @persephoneblck for this base writing prompt suggestion (with my own tweaks/spin). Unedited. Requests are open.

Ever since coming to the hotel, you have felt much less alone than you have ever felt in the duration of your life in Hell. Charlie was the first to greet you with open arms before you could even knock twice on the big, wooden doors. Vaggie was aprehensive about your arrival at first but quickly grew accustomed to you, mostly for Charlie's sake. Husk simply tolerated you and Angel Dust constantly flaunted his figure to... everyone. It made you chuckle sometimes but more out of pity. Every day and night, like clockwork, you did your exercises for supposed future rehabilitation and sometimes they made you feel more alone than ever, but you never felt judged by anybody there.

Not even Alastor.

The first time you two met, he was sitting at the bar, annoying Husk for another drink. You had arrived a couple days prior and had already settled in a good amount. You walked past the bar, not even paying attention to the deer demon staring at you, wide grinned. You almost reached your room before you heard a booming radio-esque voice behind you,

"Well HELLO there my dear! Haven't seen you around!"

You felt your heart skip a beat at the sudden noise and quickly turned around, taking in Alastor's features. His eyes reflected the red of the hotel walls, beaming at you. His ears twitched a bit at the sight of you, but his wide grin didn't falter even for a millisecond. He was dramatically hunched over with his hand out to shake yours. You stared at his hand for a bit until he retreated it as a sign that he caught on to your discomfort and he stood up straight.

"Apologies my dear, your look of fear is something I am graciously used to. I just wanted to extend my welcomes to you. Please indulge in my presence if you feel it necessary, I would LOVE to know what makes you tick!"

His head ticked to the side at the final word before turning on his heel and walking off.

As the weeks turned into months, Alastor's voice no longer startled you and his presence became comfort. You thought him charming and he thought you riveting. He allowed you access into his radio tower, even on his recording days. He had memorized your favorite song and learned it on every instruement and how pancakes make you nauseous in the mornings so you prefer oatmeal for breakfast. You once told him a new cologne of his smelled like all the good things in life, so now that's all he cares to wear. He learned that you have trouble sleeping without white noise, so he'll sit for hours next to your bed, gently humming in his radio voice your favorite songs. Your heart was pure and his heart was warm.

Alastor decided that tonight was the night that he was going to be open about his continuously growing feelings for you. He had gone through several sheets of paper in an attempt to write the perfect confession note and he finally settled on one. Earlier that afternoon, he had invited you to his room to talk and you said you'd be there. You have only been in his room once before because you went in with Val to ask Alastor to get rid of Sir Pentious's Egg Bois.

He heard a knock on the door and took one last deep breath before locking in his smile again and slamming the door open before you could knock again.

"Why hello there Darling, you look absolutely ravishing as usual my Dear!"

He gave you a quick kiss on your hand before leading you into his room and shutting the door behind him, helping you shrug off your jacket before hanging it up on a nearby hook.

"Please, My Dear, make yourself comfortable!"

You walked further into his room, scanning your surroundings before stopping right in front of the undefined line of where his physical room and the forest meet. Your eyes sparkled as you gazed up at the skyline.

"Alastor, your forest is absolutely beautiful."

He walked briskly to join you.

"Ah, yes, isn't it? I imported it myself. I delight in many meals here."

The sky stunned your senses. There were fireflies flying around the trees that rose submissively to the vast sky. The lavish green of the trees complimented well with the hues of blue shading above, the glow of the fireflies adding a etherial touch to it all. The thick fog made the sky's autonomy seem endless.

"It may just be the most beautiful thing i've seen in all of Hell."

Alastors eye twitches very slightly and his ears furrow backwards.

"I have to strongly agree with you, my Dear. Every time I gift my eyes with the sight of this, it helps me remember that there are still some fine things down here with me. I may be a connoisseur in all things audio, but nothing beats this kind of visual. I would relish in it for eternity if I could."

You glanced at him to show him that you were listening, only to have your eyes make direct contact with each other. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt his gaze penetrate you.

He was staring at me while he was saying that.

You smiled at him warmly as it finally clicked. He walked behind you and places his hands on your shoulders, gently massaging them as you both turned your gazes back to the forest.

"You, mon cher, are allowed to stay in my dreams every night. Always."

You took a deep breathe and closed your eyes, enjoying all of the sensations around you.

"And you in mine, Alastor."

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [7]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, angst, fluff.

Word count: 3,3k

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You babbled to yourself as you ran through the park, well, if you could call it a park. What should be green and full of life looked so dead and sad. But that didn't stop you from visiting with your daddy. You loved the park. You had enough space to run all about and you played on the little amount of grass it still had. With luck, you could find a flower or any other interesting things you could take home with you. You loved exploring, you were a curious kid. Jake wheeled after you with your bag resting in his lap. You were fast, insanely fast and he had a hard time keeping up, "princess, wait for daddy." You turned around at the sound of his voice as you babbled his name, "daddy! Daddy fast." Your babbling made him laugh. It was something you developed as a kid, whenever you were excited about something or concentrating, you babbled. You ran towards him and stood behind the wheelchair, trying your best to push him forward with all your might. The gesture made him chuckle, "baby this won't do, go up ahead, but stay close to me. Got it?" You ran up in front of him as he put his hand on your head, patting your head before leaning in and giving you a small kiss on your lips. You giggled at his peck and nodded your head in agreement, "yes daddy!" And off you went. He wheeled after you as he enjoyed the sight of you. So carefree, so happy. It was a reminder of how he didn't deserve you. You crouched down as you dug your finger into the mossy grass.

"Baby, what are you up to?" This was the time he could catch up with you, now that you weren't moving so fast. When he finally stopped next to you, he removed his hands from the wheels to move one to your head, rubbing your head as you still crouched down, "what's wrong baby?" You removed your fingers from the mossy grass before he saw that you were holding something in your fingertips. "I have this?" You kept it up for him to see. It was a leaf, a dead one that is. It was slowly withering away with each touch, but that didn't matter to you. You liked it. A chuckle leaves Jake's lips as he opened your cute little bag on his lap, digging his hands into it as he took your purple-decorated map out. It was covered in purple stickers and your messy handwriting, with a picture of you and Jake on the cover. The map was filled with transparent file folders, some filled with interesting things you found in the outside world while others were empty, waiting to be filled. He opened it and flipped to an empty page. You gave him the leaf to him at its stim and he carefully slit it inside an empty folder. You watched in excitement as he did so, getting on your tiny feet as you held onto his leg. Once the leaf was secured into your map, he turned it around for you to see and you jumped in the air, clapping in your hands.

"wan find another one! Is us!" You babbled and immediately ran off to find another treasure to add to your collection. He chuckled in amusement as you just compared the two of you to a pair of dead leaves. He put the map back into your bag as he took something else out, your favorite drink. He took the straw off the side as he pushed the sharp end into the foil-covered circle on top. He quickly once took a sip of your drink before he again wheeled after you, "baby come here. You have to drink something." But you were yet again in your own world, crouched down as your hands were in the grass. He came up to you and stroked your cheek with his index finger, "baby?" You flinched at the touch, but leaned in once you felt the familiar warmth, "mhh?" You hummed as you tried to take something out of the grass. "Come drink something, I also brought you a snack." He tapped on his lap, indicating that you should rest up right on his lap. "Daddy help take flower safe if I rest?" You pointed at the small flower tangled in the grass. He nodded his head, "yes I will get that for you, alright baby?" He hung your bag on his armchair and took you in his arms to put you down on his lap. He passed you your favorite drink, which you took in your grabby hands with a satisfied grin. You took a few sips as you watched your dad going through your bag, "ah there it is." He pulled out a small bag of fruit cookies for you to eat. Your eyes sparkled as he opened the plastic for you and held it in his hands. You positioned yourself, sitting sideways now as your legs were dangling onto his right thigh. "Thank you, daddy," and you dug in: with one hand popping your fruit cookies in your mouth while the other was holding onto your drink. With his free hand, Jake repositioned the wheelchair, now sitting next to the place you were digging in. He put his hands around you to secure you while still making it easy for you to grab your snacks, as he leaned to his side.

His claw dug into the mossy ground as he touched and searched for the flower you were talking about. He relied on his touch as he couldn't see what he was touching, because of his current position. It all felt the same, mossy rough grass until his fingertip brushed against a texture he didn't feel before. Gentle, soft. He carefully wiggled it around and once it came to loose, Jake sat back up straight and held the tiny flower into his palm, showing it off to you, "is this what you meant?" You nodded in excitement, "thank you papa love you!!" He chuckled and pressed his nose into your hair, taking in your scent before pressing a kiss against your ear, "I love you too princess." Your findings of the day were ironic in his eyes. A dead leaf and a pretty flower. He thought back about your words.

This us daddy.

He smiled at the accuracy.

It was them, the dead leaf that found his flower.

Your mind felt foggy as you tried to wake up from your slumber. The last thing you remembered before dozing off was munching on the fruits Kiri gifted you. You must have eaten a lot, considering you needed to take your mask off every time you wanted to pop a piece in your mouth. Did you pass out because of the lack of oxygen? You didn't know. A groan left your lips as you slowly opened your eyes. A bright light shone into your eyes, making you squint your eyes to block as much light as possible. For living in a cave, it sure was bright. Is this what a healthy planet was like? You didn't complain. "Babygirl? Are you awake?" You felt one of your hands getting caressed. It actually felt nice, warm, and comforting even. You decided to bathe in the warmth against your skin until it dawned on you. That familiar voice, that familiar touch. Your eyes shot open in surprise as you looked to your right. Much to your dismay, you met the gaze of Jake Sully who was staring deep into your soul as he held your hand into both of his, his lips pressed against your skin. You hissed at him, like you learned during your classes, as you harshly pulled your hand away from his, earning a sad expression in return, "that is very inappropriate to do to your acquaintances, Jake Sully." You spoke through gritted teeth, venom laced in your tone. You wanted to get up and walk out, but you couldn't get up against the height and size of Toruk Makto, since he was most definitely stopping you from exiting the tent and he definitely wasn't planning to let you go anytime soon. You were responding calmer than usual, probably because you already cried, screamed and punched your feelings out to him, now barely anything left to show him. What he saw in front of you wasn't his daughter crying because he left, but a warrior trained to fight. Your gaze was hardened and almost expressionless. He didn't like this, not one bit. He wanted to get punch, insulted, anything, but this hurt so much more. His lips are pursed before he spoke up, "I know I wasn't a great father, but I promise you, I will show you that I cared, and still care, about you." A low chuckle left your lips, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Sully." The sentence had so much more meaning, to both you and him. You believed his promises as a child, the promise that he would stay with you forever. Now that you're older you knew promises were just empty sayings. The guilt resurfaced in his body once again as he thought of the many promises he broke. "I'll show you, no, I'm determined to show you that I always cared for my little girl." He held your hand again. You tried to pull away, now getting more aggressive because of the touch. He squeezed your hand one more time before he finally let go of your warmth, heading towards the exit of the tent. The loss of warmth made you as you looked after him, now back in your laying position, "You were always good enough of a father to me, if you thought you weren't." His back was turned to you as his eyes widened at the confession. He looked back at you as you spoke the words of reassurance he always needed. When he looked back, he didn't meet your gaze. Instead, you laid there as you watched the ceiling, not paying a mind to Jake Sully at all.

He wanted to speak up again, but then someone entered the room. "Sissy, good morning." He chirped, but when his gaze locked with his father his happy expression soon faltered into a neutral one. The two of them stared at each other, one with a sad expression. Jake wondered, how did he know you? "Good morning, baby bro." You immediately sat up with a bright smile at the sight of Neteyam, who was carrying a lot of stuff in his arms. From food, to fresh clothes and a hair brush. He beamed at you as he put the stuff down next to you. "Lo'ak went to visit the lab once it got light outside and brought you a fresh set of your outfit." He said as sat down to take his hunter's knife out, taking a fruit and cutting the skin off. "Thank you so much Teyam, you shouldn't have." You scratch behind his ears like you would do to a cat, earning a purr from him. You chuckled as he embarrassingly pushed your arm away from him. Jake watched the entire scene unfold in front of him, a hint of jealousy in his body. He felt so jealous of his son, for having a great relationship with you in such a short amount of time. "You can leave now, you know. She's taken care of," Neteyam spoke up as his gaze was focused on the fruits in front of him. He looked right at you, you already staring at him before you turned your focus to Neteyam. Defeated, he left the tent, knowing that him being there won't make anything better.

But he won't give up.

"Ma yawne, what do I do?" Jake was pacing around the pod as Neytiri was folding some laundry, just their different pieces of loincloths. "It's something you should figure out on your own, ma Jake." Neytiri spoke as a matter of fact, her gaze never leaving the task in front of her. "She doesn't want to acknowledge me anymore, do I just give up?" Give up? "Since when does the great Toruk Makto give up?" That nickname made him wince in embarrassment. "You tamed the mighty Toruk, and brought our clan to victory, but you tend to give up because of this?" That was the harsh reality. He was thinking about giving up once again when he thought about his daughter. Now finally having you in his reach again, he can't just sit back and do nothing. He thought about Loak's words. Actions. He had to show you. But how? You weren't his little girl anymore. You probably didn't like adventurous walks anymore. He didn't know you, so how could he possibly do something? "Spend time with her, be around her. You have a great chance for that today. We are getting to work out our plans against the sky demons. Use this chance." and he knew that she was right.

"Are you okay?" Even without eyebrows, you could see the frown on his face as he focused on your fruits. He cut the piece in a size for you to pop in your mouth. "Yes, I guess? Thank you." You ate the piece he put on your palms as you zoned out, "what do you think I should do, Teyam?" You wanted your happily ever after with your father, his wife and your siblings. But was it fair to you? "Are you going to forgive him?" He continued wondering as he asked you these questions, cutting up the last piece of fruit and putting it in a wooden bowl for you to eat. He cleaned his knife with a cloth and put it back against his hip. "I mean, I am sure I will do it eventually. But for now I want him to work for my trust rather than me believing him right away. All he can do is talk, you know how he is." You chuckled softly and threw your arm around your younger brother. You saw how his tail swung from left to right. Was it because he felt happy? He buried his forehead in the crook of your neck as his ears twitched, "yeah.. I know exactly what you mean." His ears drooped to his head as he spoke and you raised your eyebrows. "Do you need to talk about something? Teyam what's wrong?" You wiped your fingers clean to your pants as you brought it to his head, rubbing his braids. His ears twitched again.

"Dad expects the best of me, as I am the mighty warrior and future clan head. He wants me to train from day til night, but at the same time he expects me to take care of my three siblings. And on top of that they will choose my mate, the future Tsahik, but what if I want to find happiness? I never complained about anything before, but I just can't take it anymore. He keeps talking and talking about my future, but I just want to be a kid..." Neteyam spilled his heart out to you, his ear twitching against your cheek as he did so. Your expression turned into a sad one, disappointed in the way your father treats his own kid. "Please stay sissy. I'm never this selfish, but please stay. I need you." Your lips pursed. Founding your family right here on Pandora, you wanted to stay here forever so badly. But what about everyone else back at home? Your lieutenant was probably waiting for your return, as well as other people from the resistance. Seb and Raja will eventually return as well, but what about you? Lost in thought as you rubbed Neteyam's head you realized something. Was this the struggle dad was in as well as he chose between Pandora and earth?

When Neteyam left to prepare himself for the meeting, you did the same. You changed into the fresh clothes Lo'ak brought you. You were so thankful he did, now you felt fresh and ready for the hunt. Eventually Mo'at also returned to her tent, as you were staying there the entire night. You greeted her respectfully, as she did the same to you in return. "How are you feeling, child? Did Jake Sully speak to you?" She always was straight to the point, just like her daughter. You could appreciate that. "Yes, he did. I'm in conflict with myself. As I realized I was upset at him to leave me, yet I am in the same position right now." You explained everything to her in detail: from the moment you woke up to holding your dad's hand to the conversation with Neteyam and the dilemma you were in. "So now I feel guilty, but I have a right to feel what I feel right?" Tsahik knew best after all. She walked up towards you and grabbed your hand, holding it with both of hers. "You absolutely have the right for that, 'eveng. But try to give him a chance once you notice how much energy he puts into this and how much he loves you. You can only feel his love through here" she put your hand on your chest, right where your heart is, "listen to your gut, don't let your brain work against your feelings, my child. Don't let the revenge overcome your mind."

Neteyam and Lo'ak picked you up from the tent as it was time for the meeting. You readjusted your katana on your hip as they lead you to the entrance of high camp, right where the speeches and strategies happened. "Soooo, did you talk to grandmother?" Lo'ak started out of curiosity, earning a smack on the back of the head from his brother, "Don't be so oblivious, you skxwang!" You chuckled at the brothers, shaking your head. "Don't worry about it Teyam," you told the Na'vi before you gazed at your other brother, "yeah I talked to the Tsahik, she told me to not let revenge overcome my mind." Lo'ak gave you a look, telling you to continue, "but I don't mind playing with him a bit. He deserves it after all." He smiled brightly at you and ruffled your hair, earning a groan from you, "stop that my hair will go fuzzy!!" Neteyam shook his head at your antics, but a smile couldn't help but slip out. When you got there you heard your name getting called, "(Y/N)!" Seb and Raja ran towards you, bright smiles on their faces. You knew you couldn't hug since this was a professional meeting. Yet you couldn't help but hold their hands with a smile. They looked behind you with curious glances. Behind you stood Neteyam and Lo'ak, awkwardly waiting for you to introduce them. "Seb, Raja these are my baby brothers. Neteyam and Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. Brothers, these are my friends. Seb and Raja." You pointed your fingers as you introduced them to one another. Seb and Raja brought their hand to their forehead, "Oel Ngati Kameie." Neteyam and Lo'ak smiled at their respectful introduction, before doing the same.

"Everyone, welcome. Gather please." A voice rang through the cave. It was one of your colonels. The rest was honestly all a blur for you. You only knew that this was about raiding some transport from the RDA. Meetings like these were so boring to you, you couldn't take it. You dug into the ground with the tip of your shoe and drew a few circles with your heels. "Sully! We need you on the front, right at the direct attack. I expect you to follow the Olo'eyktan's direct orders from there?" Jake almost wanted to answer upon the call of his last name, just like he used to do in the military. But then his daughter answered and the realization hit him.

You're on his team.

This was his chance.

Thank, Eywa.

This was a good thing after all,

right?

A/N: ty for reading! Lmk what you thought. Thank you for all the support. <3

Taglist in the comments!! (Might have forgotten you cause there is a lot of people.)

[captainfern]

hey captain, it’s me again. I have come to repent from my sins by requesting your blessing with a jealous dbf!price that doesn’t like other “man” (aka boys) around you.

Thank you for your service captain 🫡

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Marigold pt. 3

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - what the request says but price shows you how jealous he is lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 1.8k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], jealous!price, possessive!price, unprotected piv, strong language

mmmmm look at that nose— yooooo what????? girl who said that oh my goddddd... 😏

a longer dbf!price fic will happen soon i’ve just got to start writing it LMAO

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Price never used to be a jealous man.

Past relationships came and went and he never found himself jealous if they spent time with other men, or had male co-workers or friends taking up a portion of their time.

It never bothered him, because he wasn't self-conscious. He knew that, at the end of the day, they'd come home to him.

But something changed within him. The past few months of building this secret relationship with you changed something within him.

Maybe it was the fact you were younger than him, thereby attracting younger men who, from knowledge, Price knew were total fuckheads. Or maybe it was the fact that you were just so nice— so polite, so smiley, such a good girl.

Upon re-evaluation, Price determined it was probably a mix of those two things.

The past week had been taking a toll on him. Watching the way you seemed to attract fucking idiots that fawned after you, showed off to you, all with the hopes of getting into your pants. Price knew you weren't dumb enough to let these morons get what they wanted, but the thought still made his jaw tick.

Today, especially, had him on the edge of his fucking seat. Not in excitement, or anticipation for anything. But because he was this close to ripping the trachea out of this guys throat beside you.

Price's best mate, your dad, invited some other friends around for a couple of drinks. They were mutual friends with Price, too, so he knew what he was expecting when two of them showed up. But he wasn't expecting one of them to bring their young adult son.

"This is Grayson," the friend introduced to your dad. "You don't mind that he came along, do you?"

"Of course not, mate. The more the merrier." Your dad said, offering Grayson a beer as everyone gravitated towards the living room, settling in on the couches there.

Not long after, you came home from work. Your eyes found Price's as soon as you walked through the door, and Price noticed the way your lips quirked at the corners, fighting a smile. Your dad was beckoning you into the living room before the smile could fully settle on your face.

And that's how you ended up here. Sitting on the couch across from Price, resting against the plush armrest. That cunt Grayson— stupid fucking name, anyway— sat beside you. Price saw how well the two of you hit it off. He saw how he made you smile with small joking remarks, how he kept you interested about whatever stupid fucking thing he was talking about. He made you smile, and nod, and laugh, and ask him more questions about his life.

The grasp Price had on his glass of whiskey was turning white-knuckled. If the force increased anymore, the tumbler would shatter.

Grayson dropped flirty remarks as the night progressed, your dad too engrossed in his own conversation to shield his daughter from the ridiculous amount of jokes and chat-up lines.

One thing that did stop Price from beating the shit out of Grayson in front of everyone was that you weren't flirting back. You were being nice, polite, but you shot down each one-liner with a cheeky quip, or a roll of your eyes. But, what pissed Price off was that Grayson, the dumb fuck, couldn't take the fucking hint.

"Hey, you want to come outside and get some fresh air?" Grayson asked you, already half off the couch.

"Um..." You hesitated, eyes flicking subtly over to Price.

He grit his teeth and shook his head, raising his tumbler of whiskey to his lips as he did so.

"Um... I'm okay for now." You said politely, smiling sweetly.

"Okay, no worries. I'll be outside if you change your mind." Grayson returned the smile, then left the room, heading for the front porch.

You fidgeted with your hands on your lap, avoiding Price's eyes. He was looking at you over the rim of his glass, and his stare was hot. So hot, you were starting to feel stuffy.

"I... I'm just going to pop outside..." You cleared your throat, telling your father.

"Alright, honey, see you soon." Your dad waved you off, not giving you much attention after that.

Ignoring Price's stare, you quickly shuffled across the room. You heard heavy footsteps behind you, and you tried not to squeal when you made it into the semi-seclusion of the entrance hall. You knew who it was.

You had a hand on the front door handle when Price's hand engulfed yours, pinning it there. His body pressed to yours, keeping your front pinned against the solid wood door. His chest heaved against your back, and you took a deep breath to try and soothe your nerves. It didn't help, since you could just smell him.

Price did much the same. He didn't even have to take a deep breath to smell your perfume, your shampoo, your everything. A smell he had grown obsessed with these past few months.

"Where're you going?" He asked, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Outside..." You whispered, flinching when a burst of laughter erupted from the living room, just metres away.

"Why?"

"Just... just to get some fresh air."

"Is that right?" The hand around yours squeezed gently. "No other reason?"

You shook your head, body growing warm at the closeness of the two of you.

Price hummed, sceptical.

"Do you not trust me?" You bit out, trying to keep your voice level.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I trust you," he said, other hand grabbing your hip and pushing your backside into his pelvis. "But I don't trust him."

With that, he let go of you and took a small step back. You felt like you could finally breathe again. You turned to face him, your back now leaning against the door.

"Are... you jealous, Price?"

Price cocked his heat, swiping his tongue over hit lower lip in thought, eyes locked to yours.

"Jealous...?" He whispered slowly as if he was tasting the word.

You waited for his reply, raising your eyebrows expectantly. "Mhm."

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head and finally breaking eye contact, looking at the floor for a moment. When he looked back up at you, his smile faded.

"I am," he said simply. His tone was dark. "You wanna know why?"

You nodded, another loud spurt of laughter sounding from your living room. It made your eyes dart to the doorway briefly.

"Look at me." Price whispered.

You did.

"I'm jealous because I don't like little fuckheads like him thinking he has a chance with you," he said. "I don't like boys flirting with you. Talking to you like you're theirs. D'you understand that?"

You forced yourself to nod stiffly. Was it weird you were turned on by this conversation?

"So, if you want to go outside with him, sweetheart, then be my guest," Price gestured at the door. "But if you do, he won't be leaving here with working legs."

You gaped at him.

"Or a working cock, for that matter."

"Oh my god, Price." You whisper-yelled at him.

You pressed your thighs together, butterflies in your stomach. Was it sick that this was making you horny? You had so many questions for yourself at this point.

"So?" He implored casually, if he hadn't just threatened to turn off Grayson's fucking legs. "Are you going to go outside, or—?"

"Or what?" You whispered. It was meant to be challenging. But it probably sounded pathetic as the heat in your core increased.

"Or are you going to come upstairs?"

•º•

"Mmpf— mmm—"

"Shh, come on, sweetheart, quiet." Price cooed in your air, leaning over your back as he fucked you hard against your bed.

He had a hand to the back of your head, pushing your head into your pillows. His other hand was on your hip with a bruising hold, slamming your arse back onto him, ramming his cock into you over and over.

"Mmm— mhm—" You tried to speak to him. Tried to moan, tried to sob, tried anything.

But he continued to rut into you at an animalistic pace. The only sounds you could hear was the faint slapping of skin, and the subtle wet shlicks when his cock fucked deeper into your wet heat.

"You don't want Grayson hearing you, right?" Price whispered, dragging his teeth along the top of your spine. "You don't want him to hear how good you're getting fucked. Don't want him to hear how wet this cunt is and how fucking desperate it is for my cock. Do you, sweetheart?"

"Un-uhhmmm—" That was meant to be a no.

"S'what I thought," Price increased his pace, dragging his cock hard against your gummy walls, literally pounding you into your mattress. "You're— fuck— you're mine. No one else gets to hear your pretty sounds, or gets to fuck your pretty cunt, but— ah, fuck— me, yeah? Just... fucking... me."

Each word was punctuated by a hard thrust that hit that spot inside you perfectly, and your entire body shuddered as you came around him, crying into your pillows.

He continued to rut into you, grunting deep from his chest, his body curled atop yours while pinning you to your mattress. He cursed, muttering your name around a grunting moan as he came inside you. You whined at the sensation, your cunt clenching around him, milking his release. He groaned, kissing down your back before he pulled out. You felt yourself shiver at the emptiness.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Price asked, gently flipping you onto your back, massaging up your sides.

"Mhm..." You hummed, blinking lazily at the ceiling.

He leaned over you and placed a couple of soft kisses to your mouth. "Was I too rough?"

"No, no, you were good," you reassured him. "Really good. I promise."

"Okay..." Price kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue running along the seam of your lips.

Before the kiss could progress further:

"Price, mate, you up there?" Came your dad's voice from the bottom of the stairs, and both you and Price froze.

Price cleared his throat, shouting back: "Yeah, mate. Just going to the bathroom!"

"Hurry up then! The game's about to start!"

Price shot you an apologetic look as he clambered off of you and began to dress hurriedly. You watched him from your bed.

"There's nothing to be jealous of, Price," you said suddenly, and he paused his actions of buckling his belt. "I only want you."

He grinned, sly, cocking his head. "That so?"

You nodded, smiling with your teeth snagged on your bottom lip in a gesture of bashfulness.

His grin grew while he threw his shirt on. "Good. I only want you, too."

"That so?" You mimicked him, and he chuckled, crossing the room.

He took your head in both of his hands and kissed you. He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs when he pulled away.

"What am I going to do with you..." He tutted, shaking his head.

"A lot of things, hopefully."

"Fucking hell. You'll be the death of me, sweetheart."

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[undeadcannibal]

Can I have some funny/cute Headcannons with if the 141 men, Konig, Alejandro and Ruby walked into saw their s/o wearing some of their  military gear and checking themselves?

Summary: Headcanons for how the Task Force 141 crew, Alejandro, Rudy, and Konig would react to catching you wearing some of their gear.

Genre: Headcanons

Warnings: none!

A/N: Thanks for the request, Anon! I hope you enjoy these~ uwu( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost ―

He’d be fine with it so long as you don’t touch any of his masks. That’s one of the parts of him that he doesn’t want you connected to in any way.

Instead, you’d try on his thigh holsters and tactical belt, having always enjoyed the way they accentuated his waist and thighs.

You do your best to mimic the pattern you’ve seen him use them in. Strapping them snugly around your hips and thigh, pausing to admire them on your person afterward. You’re so caught up in checking yourself out, you don’t even notice Ghost in the doorway.

He’s been leaning against the door frame, watching you go about trying on some of the safer gear he’s left out here and there.

He’d never thought he’d like the idea of a partner of his wearing his gear, worried it’d bring up some memories he’d hoped to keep buried. Yet, after he checks you out sporting his belt and thigh holster, he can’t help but shaking his head. Laughing softly when you finally catch sight of him and whip around to face him.

“I-I can explain!”

“No need.”

As you’d begin to stammer and try apologize to him, he’d roll his eyes at you before settling a heavy hand on top of your head. Ruffling the hair there till it was a mess and you were pouting up at him.

“They look good on you.” He’d comment, stepping in and looming over you as he reached down to tug at one of the straps around your thigh, delighting in the way it wrapped around your leg. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but now he understood why others had a kink for their gear. Ghost thoroughly enjoys the way the straps accentuate your thighs, ending just below your backside.

May ask you to wear some more of his simple gear more often just to see how good you look in it. Has to will himself out of thinking of you whenever he’s wearing the same pieces you’ve tried on. Knowing he looks nowhere near as good as you do despite what you say.

Soap ―

Johnny’s busy cooking breakfast when your curiosity hits.

Quietly entering the room you share so you can sneak over to the spot you know where he keeps his military gear at. At the ready just in case he ever needs to leave in a hurry.

Your fingers trail over tan polyester and vinyl as you stop to examine his tac vest. Glancing over the numerous pouches and compartments for all sorts of tools he used in situations.

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you carefully pick it up. It’s obviously heavier than you expected, but that doesn’t come as a surprise. Soap mentioned the grueling training they went through to get adjusted to all of the weight they had to carry out in the field.

As your mind continues to wander, you find yourself slipping the vest on your person. Turning and marveling at the sight of yourself in Soap’s own vest as you strike numerous ‘strong man’ poses. Knowing that if you had to carry the same amount he had, you’d probably fall to the ground and need help getting back up. Not that that stops you.

While you’re still busy practicing numerous goofy poses with his vest, you hear a familiar chuckle from behind you. Turning to see Soap grinning at you cheekily.

“Aw, why’d you stop, lass? I was enjoying the show!” He’d joke before mocking you by repeating some of the same poses you were doing earlier.

Gaz ―

He was in the shower when you saw some of his gear on top of the table in the living room.

Most of it was stuff you knew you were better off leaving alone, yet... as soon as your eyes laid their sights on his headgear. His cap was well faded and sporting a UK flag patch on the front, as well as having what looked liked a communication system attached at the sides.

Carefully sneaking the cap on and pulling your hair through the back of it for a more natural look, you turned around and promptly made your way to your bathroom so you could check yourself out properly.

After knocking and letting him know you were entering the bathroom, you stepped in and swiped at the mirror to get a better look at yourself.

Of course, the cap was loose on your head from the size difference of you two, but the more you turned around and admired yourself in it, you couldn’t help but grin. Turning your head when you heard Gaz exiting the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Although his eyes widened in shock seeing you in his cap, he didn’t seem put off in any way. Instead, he laughed softly and stepped closer to get a better look at you sporting his cap.

“How’s it feel?” He asked, grinning at you.

Reaching up to the headset, you pretended to use the comms attached. “Sergeant Garrick reporting for duty!” You exclaimed, offering a mock salute in exchange.

Gaz playfully rolled his eyes at your impression of him.

“Next time Price has us doing drills, I’ll make sure to send you in my place, love.”

Price ―

He’s out picking up more cigars he enjoys when you were cleaning up around the house and noticed a tan scarf and hat you’d seen before. Recognizing it as the same two that John often wore when he was out on the field.

You knew you should have left them alone. Or, at the very least, put them away with the rest of his things, yet... You didn’t. Instead, you glanced around - as if you’d be caught and punished - before grabbing the scarf and hat.

Arranging the Boonie hat on your head before the scarf went around your shoulders, neck, and the bottom of your face, you glanced at yourself in the hallway mirror. Noting that the scarf smelled exactly like him as you admired the dual feelings of familiarity and anonymity of the combination.

You can picture Price in your place... His face shielded from both the wind and sand during his missions. Or, having to resort to using it as a pillow in a pinch in some safe house in the middle of nowhere.

The secret knock he’d informed you about could be heard before the sound of the door unlocking and opening afterwards. “Sweetheart! I’m home!”

When you faced him, Price didn’t look displeased or upset with you for wearing some of his gear. Instead, he walked over to you and dropped his shopping bag at his feet. Leaning down to meet you halfway as you leaned up towards him.

“Playing ‘dress up’, are we?”

You’d nod affirmatively up at him before delivering a swift kiss directly to his lips.

Alejandro ―

 It was the morning of the day Alejandro had to leave for work again.

You were helping him pack when you noticed you’d were holding the black sweater he often wore for casual missions. Noting the worn look of the black material that carried the briefest scent of his cologne and detergent now. Having once smelt like musk, sweat, and gunpowder he’d washed it.

He’d left to take a call not to long ago, so you figured now was the best time to act on your impromptu plan. Unzipping the jacket, you slipped your arms through the sleeves and tucked it closer to your form before closing it, the size difference between you two evident now more than ever as you stood there in his baggy coat.

“Mi amor!”

Guess his call had ended just in time.

Alejandro entered your bedroom, pausing for a moment in the doorway as he took in your appearance. The moment it sank in that you were wearing his jacket, you saw his eyes slowly rake over your body. Clearly admiring the view.

“As much as I love seeing you in my clothing...” Alejandro appeared to have snapped out of his stupor now that he’d walked over to you, reaching down to pull you into his arms with a devious grin. “Unfortunately, I need that for work. Mind if I have it back?”

“Hm...” You hummed softly as you pretended to mull the thought over before you suddenly looked up at him with a devious gleam in your eyes. “Nope! If I keep your jacket, that means you’ve to stay home with me. Hah~”

Giving a little growl in return, you gasped as you found yourself being lifted into the air by Alejandro reaching down and grabbing you, settling his hands right beneath the curvature of your ass.

“We’ll see about that...”

Rodolfo ―

“Rudy,” You questioned, slowly walking your fingers over his chest.

“Si, mi vida?” He replied casually, not evening bothering to open his eyes while he rested beneath you.

As sneakily as you could, you’d reached over to the gloves he’d discarded the moment he’d arrived home. Doing your best to quietly pull them on over your slimmer hands before he was peeking at you through his lashes. Smiling when he’d noticed you grinning down at him with a mischievous smile on your face.

“What’s that look for, huh?”

Miming aiming the sights of a gun down at him with both hands, you giggled as you did your best to fake an intimidating voice. Kinda like the one you’ve heard Alejandro use on occasion.

“Special Forces, hands up!”

Scoffing and shaking his head, Rodolfo slowly raised his hands in mock surrender before he suddenly turning his head towards you. Grinning like a mad man before pouncing. Wrapping his arms around you to pull you in for a sudden kiss that had you squealing in surprise.

König ―

wearing a spare mask of his he has back at home

Sitting on top of the edge of König’s desk, you casually swung your legs, eyes closed since he was busy switching out masks. Having mentioned something about his current one being too worn for daily use ever since his last mission.

You could hear the rustling of fabric before something being tossed onto the desk to your side.

“You can open your eyes now.”

After you’d opened your eyes, you couldn’t help looking over to your side to see that he’d tossed his old mask onto his desk. Glancing over to König, he seemed busy adjusting his new mask to his liking. Too busy to notice you grabbing the old, raggedy mask he’d rid himself of.

Unsure what possessed you to do so, you found yourself slipping the mask over your own head. Positioning the stretched out holes where your own eyes were so you could see out of it. Now that you were wearing it, you couldn’t help but have an odd feeling of déjà vu. Walking over to examine yourself in the same mirror König had been using.

Watching you approach, he stared down at you curiously with bright eyes.

“Is that my old mask, Schatz?”

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah, quick question though, hon...”

“Hm?”

Hesitating before asking your next question, you tilted your head to the side curiously. Squinting at him with your reflection in the mirror. “Is your ‘mask’ actually an old t-shirt?”

. . .

“. . . Yes.”

[kissesbyliz]

meeting the 141 boys for the first time

these are cute individual scenarios that show how i think the reader would meet the boys!!

gn!reader

(feat. simon "ghost" riley, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick, johnny "soap" mactavish)

GHOST

the first time you lay eyes on him would be in your new apartment complex. you would have been left to move your furniture all by yourself after your brothers, ever the immature dorks they were, ditched you to participate in some influencer's video who had been looking for volunteers in your area. "this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that will never happen again." they had told you grimly, before driving off and leaving you stranded with all your new furniture in front of the tall building.

it was early in the morning, the lights in the hallway shining in his eyes just a bit too harshly as simon exited his apartment. he was preparing to leave to pick up some groceries, having just ran out of his toothpaste. he grumbled, feeling a bad mood start to settle in him from the various inconveniences that had already managed to arise in his day.

that's when he saw you. his new next door neighbor, who was apparently in the process of transporting a large shelf towards their open door all by themselves. the size of the furniture compared to you was almost comical, and your effort in moving the heavy object showed in every laborious step. it was a ridiculous sight to see, and he couldn't help the snort that he let out. upon hearing the noise, you turn your head to look at him.

"hey, there." you call out to him with a weary smile. "mind giving a neighbor a hand?"

he has some time to spare, he decides, moving to easily pick up the end of the shelf that was dragging miserably on the floor. you peek your head out the side of the shelf to shoot him a toothy grin, quickly thanking him for his aid.

PRICE

you would first see john at a bar, where you were celebrating one of your friends' birthdays. the topic had shifted over to you, after you had reported that the blind date they set you up on the previous night had again went abhorrently. they defended themselves playfully, giggling about "how they were not going to let to you die alone, no matter what it takes."

you mournfully swirled the drink in your glass, shooting them all a lighthearted glare at their remark. you sighed, laying your chin on your hand as you took a moment to gaze around the bar. it was packed, as usual, full of laughter and music.

as your eyes skimmed over the room, they finally landed on a man who was sat at the bar, already peering at you. he was sporting a fleece lined coat with a beanie, beard trimmed neatly and in a way that complimented his features. he was undeniably attractive, exemplified by the way he shot you a charming smile and tilted his glass towards you in acknowledgement.

you gulped, suddenly feeling shy, and turned back towards your group. your friends, having witnessed the whole ordeal, shot you knowing looks, immediately egging you on to go talk to him! with laughter and playful pushes at your shoulder.

after an embarrassing moment of encouragement from your friends, you stood up, liquid courage burning in your veins. you moved over to his position, weaving through the people in your path. he smiled warmly to welcome you as you slid into the empty seat in front of him.

"hey." you started, giving him a sheepish grin.

GAZ

you met gaz on the street of a shopping plaza, an impressive amount of shopping bags grasped in your hands. they were all gifts for your younger cousins and other distant relatives, after your parents had reminded you sternly that you needed to get them each something for the holidays.

kyle was having himself a smoke, trying to get his mind off of his previous week. he was trying to stop for good, but this was the kind of day that just required a cigarette. the consequences of him and his task forces' actions, the gravity of them, was weighing especially heavily on his shoulders today.

all of a sudden, he heard a yelp, then the thud of multiple objects hitting on the floor. he glanced over to see you holding a now ripped open paper bag among your other shopping bags, with a multitude of small toys and figurines at your feet.

you were near tears in that moment, already fed up from the pressure of your parents now added with the embarrassment that came from the combination of laughter and pitiful glances passerbys shot your way. you crouched down and began picking the figurines up, reminding yourself gingerly in your head to take deep breaths.

pity instinctively squeezed his chest at the sight, your pretty eyes peering down at the toys dejectedly. kyle moved immediately, tossing his cigarette and squatting down, picking up the objects beside you. he gave you a sweet and reassuring smile, "bad day too, huh?"

"any chance i could buy you a drink to wipe that frown off your face?" he continued, standing back up with you. you can't help the genuine smile that stretches across your face at his proposal, your first smile of the day, shyly nodding with a small sniffle.

SOAP

you first came into contact with johnny at a fair in your town. the two friends you had came with left to ride one of the fair's intense rides, but you decided to stay behind to give your stomach a break from all the rides you all went on previously. tired of waiting on a bench for your companions, you decided to get up and browse the games the fair had to offer.

eventually, you come across a balloon popping game, which had the participants competing against each other to pop as many balloons as they could with mock rifles. you smile confidently as you walked over, recalling winning this game plenty of times in the past.

alright, a little competition can't hurt, you decide, making a show of cracking your knuckles and rolling your shoulders. the man beside you lets out a hearty laugh at your display, and you turn to face your opponent.

he was a tall man with a muscular build, a messily styled mohawk, and blue eyes that shined with a mischievous glint. he winked at you, meeting your gaze, "good luck. let's have some fun, yeah?"

"yeah, you'll need it." you retorted back playfully.

the game started, and you immediately took to shooting with your gun. to your surprise, most of the balloons on his side were promptly eliminated in quick succession and with pinpoint accuracy. you nervously shifted your attention back to your side of the game, where you managed to pop a mere six balloons, which was actually pretty damn good in your opinion.

your eye twitched slightly as you glanced back over to him, your ego bruised a bit. he shoots you a smug grin as he chose his prize; a giant stuffed german shepherd. he saunters over to you, gently booping your nose with the snout of the toy, before walking away. what the hell...

[wtfsteveharrington]

sorry to interrupt / steve harrington x reader 

content & contains: requested!! set during s4. you were on watch duty with steve, he convinces you to share the special treatment you receive at the wheelers. 

reader wakes up to steve grinding against her, lil bit of perv!steve (my beloved), choking (steve receiving), thigh riding, hints of hung steve!size kink, hand job, pussy job, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie. mentions of bruising/hickies, tearing up, and scratching. 

author’s note: realized after that this is all technically happening at his ex girlfriend’s house......... sorry nancy. all my love to @yellowharrington​ & @chestharrington​ who always encourage every unholy thought i have and eagerly read whatever brain rot i give them at all hours of the day.

word count: almost 4.9k

i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week

Out of all the random kids who run around his house, you’re Ted Wheeler’s favorite.

Everyone else was stuck piling into the cramped basement while Ted made a big show of letting you know that the guest bedroom was made up for you. It would be embarrassing if you weren’t so entertained by the groans of protest coming from Dustin and Steve. 

Steve who then, suspiciously, made sure he was on watch duty with you.

The two of you took first watch and it went by relatively quickly. Steve was dozing off in his chair again while you kept yourself alert with one of the old puzzles that sat around the Wheeler’s basement. He wakes up after about 15 minutes, clearly startled before giving you a sheepish smile. You weren’t sure how well he was sleeping these days, so the sight of him knocked out for any amount of time? You would have let him sleep the whole night through. 

There’s the sound of shuffling filling up the quiet room as he comes to sit next to you on the floor, the sides of your thighs pressed flush together under the low coffee table, and begins working on the puzzle as well. Sorting out edge pieces and making piles of what he assumes goes together. There’s an almost finished ocean scape in front of you when faint beeping started to come from Lucas Sinclair’s watch, signaling it was shift change. He’s groggy, sitting up and grumbling to himself as he tries to wake up. 

Steve slides a soda, the only source of caffeine almost all the kids would willingly drink, and a few snacks across the table towards the boy. Lucas gives you both the best smile he can muster, scanning the room and finding Max sat on the floor by the desk. He’s grabbing the stuff off the table, the blanket from the couch, and stumbling his way through the dark room towards Max. 

You and Steve start collecting your own things. He’s grabbing your bag out of your hands, slinging it on his shoulder so you didn’t have to carry it, grabbing his jacket off the chair while you get your shoes from the foot of the couch. You spare a glance across the basement, heart melting as you watch Lucas wrap the blanket around his and Max’s shoulders. He takes a sip of the Coke then offers the can towards her, giving her knee a squeeze once his hand was free. They easily settle into a hushed conversation and you catch Steve smiling at the sight too before you both make your way up the stairs.

Steve’s shared his bed with you. Twice. Once after a party at his house got a little too crazy and there was no way you could drive, or even walk, home. You woke up tucked into his bed, your hair pulled into a haphazard ponytail, and a cup of water with Advil sitting next to it on the nightstand. 

The second time was late one night after the Starcourt incident. There had been a group of you who got together a week later once things settled down. Recounting what each person knew and had been through while everyone was apart. It wasn’t always the easiest to talk about but everyone agreed it was important that all information be out on the table. Almost everyone slowly trickled out one by one as the night got later, all except Robin who excused herself to the guest bedroom to sleep. You could have sworn she gave Steve a very pointed look as she left the living room, leaving the two of you alone on the couch, but you were pretty sure you imagined it. 

It was Steve’s turn to fall asleep first that night. You let him sleep on your shoulder for about twenty minutes before exhaustion finally threatened to take over your body. 

All you planned on doing was getting him upstairs to his room, but he grabbed your hand as you turned to leave and asked you to stay. Mumbling something about how it was late and, more importantly, how he felt safer with you around. Probably something he wouldn’t admit without the fog of sleep but it worked. You two woke up in a tangled mess, letting yourselves savor the connection for a little longer than you should have, quickly excusing yourself to freshen up once it began to drag on a little too long. 

Robin grinned into her coffee cup that entire morning the three of you ate breakfast together, both of you pushing food around your plates while refusing to look at one another. 

So yeah, sharing your bed with him tonight was the least you could do.

You’re getting ready for bed in a comfortable silence. Changing into an oversized shirt from your bag and taking off whatever remnants of your makeup made it this far into the night. Out of the corner of your eye you catch Steve stripping down to just his boxes then tugging a pair of sweatpants on. He’s scratching his bare chest and you focus on the way his fingers drag through his chest hair absentmindedly. You spare a thought as to what it must feel like to touch his chest before going back to getting ready for bed while he untucks the blanket and gets the bed ready for the night. 

You guys settle into bed easily. Exhaustion taking over before either of you have the time to overthink being in bed together.

✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧

You were hot.

Like, depths of hell levels of insanely hot.

It takes a minute to register where this heat is coming from as you wake up... Low and behold, Steve Harrington did not stick to his side of the bed. At first you assume he’s just reached out to cuddle against you in his sleep. It would make sense. But then you feel something that quickly breaks down that theory and now you’re trying to process the fact holy shit he’s hard and holy shit he’s grinding on you in his sleep. 

Maybe for the slightest, briefest of moments you allow yourself to enjoy the feeling. You’d be outraged if it were anyone else, but for some reason the fact that it’s Steve? The man who’s saved you life multiple times? The man who tucks his stupid shirts into his stupid jeans and loves to play with his stupid belt buckle absentmindedly when he’s thinking? The very same man who always seems to have his hand on your knee when you sit together or your lower back while you walk next to him? Maybe you’re having a little less concern towards the situation than you should. 

You can feel Steve twitching against your ass, a low moan right in your ear. Part of you wonders what he’s dreaming about... Fine, maybe you’re solely wondering if he’s dreaming about you and oddly jealous if he’s not. He’s rocking up against you, a shockingly smooth motion. 

Finally you reach backwards, gently squeezing his hip a few times to wake him up. “Steve? Stevie?” He’s grumbling against your hair, tightening his grip on your body and pulling the two of you flush together. You’re starting to get wet, heat building between your thighs as you squeeze at him a bit more frantically. “Steve Harrington wake up.” 

He fully awakes with a jolt. Taking a moment to assess the situation before jerking his hips back from you and stuttering out a string of apologies. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry. How long have you been awake? Did you feel that? I can’t believe-...” Cutting himself off and burying his face in his hands as he lays flat on the bed. Did you feel that? There was no way you couldn’t have felt it.

You risk a glance back just to see Steve’s chest rising and falling so quickly, a noticeable bulge coming from under the blanket that’s slung low on his waist. You desperately want to reach out and touch him. “Not a big deal.” He’s scoffing now, hands coming down to his chest. You have to look away. 

“Not a big deal? I have no clue what the hell came over me. Just give me like a second to collect myself. Gonna take care of this mess in the bathroom and then I’ll sleep downstairs tonight.” 

The mental image of him jerking off in the bathroom doesn’t help your situation.

“Steve there’s like twenty people in this house and only two bathrooms. You’re gonna end up getting interrupted and I don’t wanna have to explain to people why you went from sleeping with me to jacking off in the bathroom. If you have to take care of yourself, do it in here. Won’t look, promise.” Sure, maybe it’s flawed logic but it’s late.

He doesn’t waste any time, throwing the blanket off his overheated body as you turn your back towards him. Steve’s pretending not to notice how the blanket’s now mostly on your side and in front of your body. Leaving your thighs, the bottom curve of your ass, everything exposed to him. He tightens his grip on his cock while letting his eyes wonder across the seam of your panties until they disappear between your thighs. Maybe it’s wrong, but he can’t help himself.

In the comfort of your half asleep haze, this didn’t seem like too bad of an idea... But now you hear Steve’s breathy whimpers as he strokes himself right behind you and you’re starting to question your decision. He’s spitting into his hand, now slick his fist around his cock sounds now is making you rub your thighs together for some ounce of relief. A motion that might have gone unnoticed if all of his focus wasn’t on you.

His head falls back on the pillow, cock twitching in his fist. “Fuck.” A high pitched, broken sound. You arch your ass out a little more, the cold chill in the air alerting you that it’s exposed. You’re mumbling into your pillow, “Someone’s gonna hear you… Won’t exactly help our cause”

There’s little shame. His moans are getting more out of control. Louder, drawn out. It’s making you throb and feel dizzy at the same time. 

“Do I need to make you be quiet?”

The response comes quick, surprising you both.

“Fuck yes.”

You finally turn around in the bed to face him, body working on auto pilot because you can’t actually think about what’s happening. Maybe this is just some grand plot you’re dreaming up? That seems more feasible. 

Throwing one of your legs over his thigh in order to straddle it, you adjust yourself until your core is flush against his skin. Telling yourself it’s just to keep your body balanced, nothing more. Yet, at the same time, the feeling of your warmth on his skin instantly pulls a loud moan out of Steve, his knee coming up with the same mental excuse of trying to give you stability. That’s all. Nothing more. You were just a friend trying to help him out and keep you both from getting shit if the rest of the group found out.

He’s moaning out your name now, a needy and wanton sound.

You never knew he could be so loud. 

Again your body acts before your mind can catch up.

One of your hands comes up to clamp over Steve’s mouth, his eyes going wide as he now moans against your palm and the vibrations on your skin sending shivers down your spine. You watch as he’s clutching the sheets beneath you both, his cock laying on his stomach so heavy and so pretty. He notices that you’re stuck staring down at him, deciding to push his luck by arching his hips up towards you.

The action makes you smirk, feeling extremely drunk on power. You drag your nails down his chest with your free hand, slowly rocking your core along his thigh at the same time. Steve can feel you getting more wet, his cock once again twitching at all the stimulation.

“You want me to touch you?”

He responds by tilting his hips up towards his chest, desperately trying to get dick closer to your hand. You take some pity, swiping your pointer finger along his slit to collect the precum dripping out. Making a big show of sticking your tongue out and licking your finger clean. Steve’s kissing at your hand over his mouth, silently begging for you to give him anything before he combusts.

Your hand falls down from your lips to between your thighs, collecting some of the wetness pooling at your core, using that hand to finally wrap around Steve’s length. He’s bucking up into your fist, groaning out your name into your other hand. You lower yourself back on his thigh, rocking your hips along it in time with with the movement of your wrist. He’s just slighting moving his leg back and forth, adding a bit more friction.

Watching him writher under you while you work his length is a power trip like you’ve never felt. Steve’s going wild which only adds to your ego. Humming his approval at your motions.

It’s not until your fingers slide from his mouth to cup his balls, marveling the weight of them in your hand and tightening your grip around his cock that Steve really starts to lose all train of thought. Biting down on his lip to keep from getting too loud. 

Your thrown off balance when his hands start grabbing at your hips, pulling your body towards him. You take the hint, eagerly straddling his waist and reaching down to push your ruined panties to the side. Lowering yourself until Steve’s length is tucked between your folds.

“Holy fuc-“

You’ll never know what came over you tonight, but your hand flies up to Steve’s throat. Gently applying pressure to either side while his adam’s apple vibrates against your palm with all the moans he can’t actually make. “Are you gonna be quiet if I let you fuck me?” He’s nodding enthusiastically, an almost panicked look behind his eyes at the thought of you leaving him now.

Steve’s not sure what is driving him more crazy - The slick sound of your pussy rubbing over his cock, the dizzying way you keep applying a fluttering pressure to his neck, or the way you keep whimpering out his name. Just barely a whisper. Quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear it across the room. But it’s his name, and his name has never sound as beautiful as it does falling from your lips.

The head of his cock bumps into your clit, your body giving a small jerk at the sensation. That small movement is his final point of no return and you barely have time to register the fact that you’re moving before Steve has you pinned under him. A cocky grin on his face as he easily takes back all the power you thought you had. You’re grabbing at his shoulders, withering uncomfortably under him as the tension begins building... You needed to be touched, stat. 

Steve’s taking pity on you, his hands cupping your sides under your shirt, dragging them up your body. Your chest is now exposed to him, and he leaves you to fumble through fully getting your shirt off while his mouth wraps around one of your nipples. His thumb flicks at the other as you wrap your legs around his waist, rocking yourself up towards him. There’s a stray thought where you’re silently cursing yourself for not wearing cuter underwear, but in your defense who would have thought this was going to happen. 

You’re bucking your hips now, freely letting yourself get a little needy because you can tell it does something to Steve. He’s moving from your nipple to the side of your breast, sucking on random spots that were sure to leave a pretty bruise on your skin. He’s pulling away from your tits before running his hands down your body. Only stopping the motion once the waistband of your panties are on his fingers. 

He’s grabbing two fistfuls of the ruined material covering your core, tugging it apart with a grunt. Ripping off your underwear and throwing the scraps at the foot of the bed. You yelp out at the motion, the loudest you’ve been all night. He’s figuring out he likes breaking down parts of your self control.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll buy you more.”

His lips are dragging along your jaw while his hand finds your now bare center, cupping over it and keeping his hand flat and firm against you. Now it’s Steve’s turn to tease.

“Are you gonna be quiet if I let you fuck me?” Mimicking your question from earlier.

You instantly nod, arching your hips up off the bed towards him. The small power trip you had earlier almost all but gone as he now takes control. He’s kissing a path from your jaw to your cheek until your lips are just barely together. His ghosting over yours while both of you are a mess of broken and heavy breaths. That’s all you can give each other but somehow it’s more than enough.

“Can I kiss you?” Murmured against your lips. A thoughtful gesture that’s going to make you squeal when you think about this tomorrow, even if it feels a little redundant in the moment. You’re pressing a kiss to his bottom lip for an answer and as your lips finally connect you feel his two fingers drag up through your folds. His thumb presses up towards your clit while he wastes no time pushing those two fingers into you. You’re moaning into his mouth, jaw going slack as Steve’s fingers crook inside of you at the same time his tongue swirls around yours. 

You’re reaching to push at his sweatpants and boxers, finally getting them all the way down his thighs and you’re amazed that his motions inside of you don’t stop while he kicks his clothes the rest of the way off. That familiar, uncomfortable tension is building deep inside of you again, your arms wrapping around Steve’s chest and your nails dragging along his skin. It entices a moan out of him and the sound goes straight to your clit. 

“Need more, Steve. Need you to fuck me.” 

He’s pulling back to look over your face, his fingers still working deep inside of you which makes it harder to concentrate on him. “Can’t fuck you tonight.” What the fuck? Frustration builds, your eyes burning with the threat of tears at the idea that you won’t get what you clearly so desperately need. There’s lips on the corner of your mouth, “No condom, Baby.” Steve’s head cocks to the side, glancing down where the hallway should be. “I wonder if Ted has any. You think he still gets laid? Bet you there’s some in those bathroom drawers.” 

“Disgusting! Shut up! You are not going to fuck me with Ted Wheeler’s expired condoms.” 

“You’re right... They’re probably too small away.” Steve’s shaking his head as if he’s shaking the thought out of his mind. You were half convinced if there was one more mention of Ted Wheeler you were going to dry up. His wrist is twisting, hitting a new angle as he slips a third finger into you. You know, if you were already making questionable decisions tonight you may as well go all the way. “Just pull out?” It comes out sounding like such a pathetic little question. His jaw tightens and he has to think of every single horrific thing he’s ever seen in life to keep himself from finishing right then and there. 

His hand slides out of you as you cry in protest, but it’s seconds later that you feel the head of his cock tapping against your clit. Firm and heavy pressure that has you dragging your nails so hard down his back that you’re leaving behind a mess of angry red marks. Steve swears he must have died at some point and managed to find his way to heaven. 

“Never went without one before.” The tip of his cock his pressing against your hole and you can both feel as you tighten around what he’s barely giving you. 

“Steve, holy shit. Please, please, please. Need you so bad I don’t even care if you pull out at this point. Just fuck me.” You’re a babbling mess and if you had any pride left you probably would be embarrassed. Every word is playing a risky game with his self control. His eyes are trained on you while he sinks into you slow, both of you savoring the sensation as he stretches you out inch by inch. It’s your turn to get a little loud, Steve instantly leaning in to start kissing you. All in an effort to keep you from getting them caught. You’re choking out a whine into his mouth and his eyes literally roll back at how angelic the sound was.

“Steve, fuck. Feel so full.”

“I know, Honey. Doing such a good job taking me, aren’t you? Your tight little cunt-... Jesus Christ, so fucking amazing.”

It takes every ounce of strength Steve has to not shove himself the rest of the way into you. Wrapped so well around his cock, the way you’re gripping at whatever inch of his body you can reach. This moment will be all he thinks about from now on. Unless he’s lucky enough to get to fuck you again. Then that might take the cake. Then the time after that… He’s refocusing himself on the moment at hand, licking into your mouth and fisting the bed sheets on either side of your waist for more stability. 

You feel his trimmed bush on your clit, his balls resting heavy against you as Steve stays still to let you adjust. 

He’s reaching down, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and bringing your legs up until your knees are over his shoulders. Tilting his head to the side and gently nipping at your calf before licking over the small bite marks. His breathing is getting shallow as he feels you mold around his cock, tightening yourself on his length as you get used to the feeling. 

Steve thought you choking him was going to be the hottest thing he saw tonight, but something about the way your hand clamps tight over your own mouth to muffle moans you can’t hold back... It’s his undoing. You’re crying out into your hand as he starts to stroke his hips into you once you’re both settled in the new position. His brows knit in concentration as he sets the rhythm, all the way back just the head of his cock is left in you, then sinking in once again. 

If he goes too quickly the wet sounds of his dick stretching out your pussy fill the room and it’s not exactly quiet. So instead he’s fucking into you with an intensity you had never felt before. His hands are gripping at your thighs and fuck he can’t decide what to look at - The way your tits are moving in time with his strokes, the blissed out look on your face, or the way he keeps sinking in and out of you. 

Your thighs are already starting to shake, body on the edge of a much needed orgasm. “Want you to come in me, Steve.” A low, guttural sound rips out of Steve’s chest, his movements getting sharper. “Wanna feel you dripping out of me.” Another thing you’re not quite sure where it came from tonight, but he seems to be pulling a lot of unexpected things out of you. 

“Fuck, yeah? Okay, shit, I can do that.”

You reach down between your bodies, toying with your clit while staring up at him. Even like this, forehead damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed, you can’t help but admire how pretty he looks. Oddly enough? Steve must be thinking the same thing because he pulls out of your admiring trance with a -

“So beautiful.”

Heat erupts in your chest.

You have to look away from him, content on staring at the wall until there’s a hand on your cheek, nudging you back to looking at him. “Wanna watch you... Can you do that for me? Let me see how pretty you look when you come and I’ll fill you up for being good to me.” 

“Jesus Christ.”

Steve’s picking up his pace, noise level be damned. Fucking into with a fevered passion that you had never felt. You’re clawing at his chest with one hand, the other one still working at your clit, and fighting every instinct to close your eyes. There’s a part of you that fears he would pull out if you look away and it would fully break you if that happened. 

“Can feel you’re close... Wanna feel you let go for me, Baby.” Both of your hands are grabbing at Steve now, arching your chest up towards him and it only takes one more deep stroke before the tension in your body snaps. Your orgasm rushing through every inch of you. He’s watching you fall apart, fully amazed at the sight. 

He’s still fucking into your oversensitive pussy, the feeling making you cry out. There’s a death grip on your thighs as Steve chases his own thigh, taking just a few more strokes when you can feel him still his hips all of a sudden. Taking mere seconds before he’s unloading deep inside of you. God you feel so messy now. The mixture of you both is dripping out around his cock, both of you trying to recover. He’s carefully sitting your legs back on the bed, leaning forward while you stay connected to lazily kiss you. 

Your hands tangle in his hair, his arms find their way behind your back. Neither of you care that you’re both a sweaty, sticky mess. In fact, you’re wrapped up so tightly against Steve’s chest that you’re half convinced the two of you are going to be permanently stuck together.

The two of you lay like that for a moment until the sound of your giggle breaks the silence. Steve’s pulling back, looking at you with a cocked brow. You’re reaching up to push the hair from his forehead, giving a small shrug. “Just can’t believe that happened... Can’t believe you’re still inside of me, can’t believe we just fucked in the Wheeler’s guest room, can’t believe it was the best sex I’ve ever had. Always thought you were all talk, Harrington.” 

He’s scoffing now, leaning into your touch as your hands rest on his cheeks. “Trust me, that was equally as insane for me. Can’t believe you tricked me into coming in you.” You gasp at his words, pulling your hands from his face to playfully shove at his chest. “Excuse me! Certainly didn’t hear you complaining.” 

Steve’s grinning down at you, slowly pulling his hips back from your which has you both groaning at the loss of the other. He’s kneeling back on the bed, holding your thighs apart and admiring just how pretty you look all fucked out. Only allowing himself to look for just a moment before he’s on a mission to get you guys cleaned up and back to bed. 

You both end up stumbling down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible and praying no one catches you. There’s no way to explain what’s happening without looking guilty. 

To both of your surprise Ted Wheeler does have condoms. They may have expired in 1972, but he does have them.

✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧

Robin’s propped up on the back of the counter, kicking her feet through the air as everyone stumbles their way through the kitchen to get their breakfast.  “Hey there... Sleep well?” She says with a smirk. No way she knows, right? You start to panic a little, wondering if there is a stray hickey on display or if it just shows on your faces that ‘Hey! Steve came in me last night!’. 

Were you limping that noticeably? The ache deep in your hips a reminder of what Steve did to you last night.

The counter turns left and comes out to separate the kitchen from the dining room. You walk over, hopping up on the part of the counter she’s not on, giving her the most normal smile you can muster. “Yeah, nothing crazy.”

Steve’s walking around the counter with two glasses of juice, handing you one with this sheepish smile that certainly doesn’t help your deniability.

Almost worse than the juice?

The way he steps between your legs, turning his back to you and resting his elbows on your knees while facing the rest of the kitchen. Your face feels so hot as he settles in between you, everyone stealing a side eye glance. You swear you can hear Dustin mutter something along the lines of “Holy shit, finally.” 

Robin’s got this loud bubble of entertained laugher,

“Nothing crazy, huh?”

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. GIRLS DEM SUGAR

It's been awhile since I'm admiring yuh tenderness

PIERCING HCS w/ JJK MEN.

ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, takuma ino, nanami kento, & choso.

cw. sexual/suggestive themes, ooc characters, piercings (?).

got this idea randomly. half of these piercings i want for myself. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.

KASHIMO HAJIME. ★ back dermals

the day you brought up the piercing to him and showed him a picture, he was confused. he didn’t see the point, and thought it was a little odd just having two random pieces of metal on either side of your lower back.. but boy was he wrong.

the pretty silver of the piercing rested upon your soft mocha skin perfectly, filling those cute little venus dimples he just loved. his eyes were always on your ass in general, but these piercings just amplified it.

and don’t get him started on the back shots. you just look too good all arched, ass poked out with those shiny fucking piercings all in his face. he loves it.

oh.. you’re even prettier from behind, sweetheart.

kissing between the piercings at times, tugging down the waistband of your pants to see them, he’s obsessed and is a little irritated you didn’t get them earlier.

GOJO SATORU. ★ vertical clit hood

you’ve wanted the piercing for a while, long before you even started dating gojo— but never got around to it. however, one faithful day you decide to just say screw it, and get the piercing. your refrained from telling your lover since you wanted to surprise him.

as pretty as it was, you would definitely not get it again.

anyhow, you went home that day, all smiles though still a little sore. walking into your home, you spotted gojo seated, minding his business. you walked over, his eyes glancing up at you and your goofy smile.

one he mirrored. what’s got you so excited?

i have something to show you. you would reply, cheeks nearly hurting from how much you were smiling. gojo watched with interest as your placed your things down, settling on the ottoman infront of him and slowly, pulling your pants down. he sat up, now completely interested.

you hooked your fingers on your panties, slowly pulling them down and opening your legs. his eyes widened, leaning over and pressing a hand on your thigh.

is that real?

yep! you quickly swatted his hand before he could touch it, glaring at him as you quickly shut your legs. much to his dismay.

before you can touch me there, we have to wait eight weeks.

you nearly laughed at the distraught expression on his face, ignoring his soft buts and what ifs. most healed enough for sex around the fourth week, but given how rough satoru could be— you opted for eight.

which was hell for the white haired male. dramatically counting down the days, walking out when you changed, the whole nine yards. the amount of patience or rather restraint he had was amazing. especially since you hardly made it easier for him.

the moment the eight mark his hands and mouth are all over, caring less for the metallic taste when he’s eating you out.

and when he finally gets to fuck you? he tried to be gentle, really he did— but with him angling his hips right and your piercing is rubbing against him so nicely, well; that gentleness goes through the window.

So fucking pretty.. you should have gotten this sooner, [Name].

TAKUMA INO ★ tongue piercing

you talked to ino about your interest in piercings, specifically getting one in your tongue. the pain was the only thing holding you back to which the man assured you you’d be fine, you’re tough, you got this.

so he tagged to your appointment when it came up, holding your hand as you sat waiting for the piercer. it was kind of cute to him, watching your eyes dart back in forth anxiously.

relax [name], i’m sure it’ll be quick.

you would only suck in a small breath, forcing a smile at your lover before glancing over at the person piercing you.

like ino said it was quite quick, painful— but quick. after you were done, you took multiple looks in the mirror, flicking your tongue about in different angles to take in the piercing. you loved it, and ino.. realized he did too. far more then he should have.

throughout the healing period of four weeks his eyes would travel to your tongue piercing each time you spoke to him, a certain heat resting underneath his skin. his thoughts quickly delved from him simply liking the piercing to wanting it on him, around him, touching him. he just.. wondered how it felt.

you weren’t an idiot to his thoughts at all. purposely eating far too sensually then you should have, glancing up at him through your eyelashes with the sweetest, most innocent smile.

you finally decided to end his torture when the healing period was up, offering to complete his fantasies.

i bet you were wondering what it felt like this whole time..

what? no, no i wasn’t. ino tries to deny it, but the deep blush on his face and the way his legs were opening so naturally, well— you knew otherwise.

the moment your tongue was on him, his eyes were pinched close, large hands resting on your hand. the warmth of your tongue and the cold of your piercing was just enough, him coming in minutes.

i’m.. gonna get a piercing for you. is what he declared after such a mind blowing experience.

NANAMI KENTO ★ ashley piercing

any piercings or tattoos you had nanami wouldn’t mind, he would love them regardless. they’re a part of you and well, he loves every single part of you.

so when you wanted the ashley piercing he was all for it, declaring it’d look nice on your pretty lips. well, anything did anyway.

it didn’t take long to heal, nanami smiling at how you counted down each day, just waiting to kiss him.

and when the sixteenth day was up, your lips were planted against him. nanami of course returned your sweet kiss, though, it did feel quite different from before. similar to ino the silver barbell created a nice balance between warm and cold, brushing against his lips lightly.

it felt, nice. far nicer then he wanted to admit. but he didn’t have to, since the moment you pulled away the man is chasing after you, planting his lips firmly back onto you— as if angry you left in the first place.

and don’t get him started on your kiss down his body, it’s.. too much. his skin is growing hot the moment you kiss at his collarbone, smoldering when you reach his v-line.

nanami has to admit this is his favorite piercing yet.

KAMO CHOSO ★ nipple piercings

first & foremost, i think choso is a breasts kind of guy. likes the way they fill his hands, likes sucking on them, and likes laying on them. now with that outta of the way— when you told him ( and showed him ) you wanted nipple piercings, he was a little skeptical. one, the thought of you infront of someone bare like that made him a bit nervous and two, after researching he’s heard horror stories of such piercings. choso quickly became worried for you and while he refused to talk you out of it, he did ask if you were sure.

when you didn’t budge, choso supported you, deciding to be right there at the appointment to hold your hand. he didn’t worry about the piercer, nor you; he trusted you fully.

choso was a little discouraged when he realized he couldn’t suck or play with your breasts for a while, but knowing he could possibly hurt you made such dismay fade quickly. your comfort was more important than his fixation.

when you were finally comfortable enough, the man was continuing his usual antics; grabbing your breasts, sucking and playing with your nipples. the metallic taste took some getting used to, but that didn’t matter the moment he realized how sensitive you were now. how you twitched, gasped, and moaned but just a swipe of his tongue across your pretty nipples.

it excited choso greatly, now spending moments between sessions sucking at your breasts, being the only man to ever make you come from them alone. and having you ride him, face buried in your chest, sucking both at the same time? well, choso was in pure bliss.

so despite the waiting time taking much longer then choso would have wished, it was definitely worth it in the end

[roosterbruiser]

hi! could i request something where jake secretly has an older daughter that he had with his high school sweetheart during their senior year and the squad finds out? i just love the idea of jake and his high school girlfriend being married and just as in love now as they were back then

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲

𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

Things hadn't always been easy with Jake--God, no.

Well, really, things had been downright blissful in the beginning. What were teenagers going to fight about anyway? You two just clicked--you knew you were right for each other.

Then you got pregnant. And for a while, actually, things had been really hard.

Between the fateful night of your graduation when your pregnancy test came back positive and the next eight months of your pregnancy, the two of you fought more than you ever had before. It wasn't just because he was trying to do the responsible thing by asking you to marry him--which, let's be honest; he had planned on doing that long before the positive pregnancy test--and the stress of planning the shotgun wedding you were trying really hard not to call a shotgun wedding. It was the hormones and the academy and the moving cross-country in the middle of a difficult pregnancy and all the growing up the two of you had to do so hastily.

The two of you had bickered here and there--which was bound to happen when you are devoted to someone from the seventh grade forward--but had never fought as passionately as you were while you were pregnant. It was senseless arguments, ones sprinkled in between trainings and morning sickness and job searches and taping boxes.

It wasn't even that the two of you didn't love each other. That's what the most frustrating part of it all was, really; the two of you were stupidly in love. Like the kind of love people really only see on screens, which you would never say out loud (even though you know it's true), and wish for but usually never get.

Everything changed the day Charlotte was born. You went into labor in the middle of an impassioned argument--one that was going precisely nowhere, not that either of you would admit it--and made it to the hospital to settle in comfortably for a very uncomfortable seventeen hours of labor.

Young as you both were, scared (terrified, really) as you both were, exhausted as you both were--everything else in the world melted away when you held that little pink, squirming baby against your chest.

Jake had been a wreck, suddenly realizing how absolutely out of his element he was as a measly 19-year-old with a wife and baby on the way, but had not left your side for even a moment. And when Charlotte, that sweet and loud little thing, finally settled with her chubby cheek against the red skin of your chest--something changed in his body. Already he knew that he loved you--God, he loved you so much. But seeing you there on the hospital bed with your hair plastered to your sweaty head and your cheeks flushed and your eyes swollen from crying, that love suddenly expanded and overwhelmed him. He felt like he was going to positively drown in all that love.

As if you sensed it, you looked up at him with an exhausted sort of awe-struck look. Your eyebrows were raised, your dry lips parted, your cheeks flushed, your eyelashes clumped with tears.

"She's got your big mouth," you had said to him, laughing breathily, cradling her against you.

You were shaking--not just from the sheer effort of pushing that baby into this world, but from the overwhelming amount of love coursing through your veins for that little stranger in your arms.

It had made all the nurses and doctors laugh as they still hustled and bustled around your open legs, but neither you or Jake even noticed them. You were looking up at your husband--who was suddenly not that flirty boy with the sweeping blonde hair that let you put your books in his locker, but a man with tears of pride streaming down his face as he looked down at his newly-expanded family for the first time.

He thought he was going to explode--but instead he just sobbed out a laugh. Then he leaned forward and pressed your damp hair out of your face, bringing his salty lips down on your forehead again and again. His quivering hand pressed against Charlotte's back and God, he loved her so much already. He hadn't even really seen her face for the first time, but he knew she was fucking perfect. He could feel it just under the pads of his fingers, could feel your laughter and your tears beneath his trembling lips.

"No more fightin', angel. I promise. I'm sorry," he whispered against your skin, resting his nose against your temple, sniffing hard. "Don't ever wanna fight with you ever again, okay? Love you too damn much to be arguin' all the time."

"I love you so much," you whispered to him, lips trembling as they pressed against his wet ones, bones aching with tired. "I don't ever wanna fight with you again."

But as he cupped your cheek and nuzzled his nose against yours, peppering kisses all along your tears and flushed skin, you knew that he meant it. No more arguing. You knew something was bound to change, knew it would probably change once Charlotte was born, but you hadn't expected it to be so immediate. But you were radiating love now--so happy you felt like your heart was gonna fall out of your chest.

And the two of you, as devoted to each other and your daughter as you are, kept the promise with a fierceness. No more fighting--you meant it and so did he.

Now that you're used to deployments and special detachments and moving and all the rare beauty that is attached to life as a Naval aviator's wife, everything runs smoothly.

He loves that you still send him a picture of Charlotte every single day while he's not home--something you'd done since his very first deployment when she was a few months old. You never missed a day--like ever, which he still didn't understand the logistics of--and always wrote a paragraph about yours and Charlotte's day.

When she was little, it had been something like:

Today Charlotte and I went to the park. It was that cute little one by our house, the one with all the dogs and food trucks. She's getting really good at holding her head up on her own! And she's not so fussy anymore about tummy time, which is a relief. I got to read a little bit of my book while she napped on the picnic blanket. She wore that sunhat your mama got her (as seen in the attached photo) and laughed at a dog that came to investigate her. She's a big fan of animals--might be something to consider, huh? Right now, she is talking my ear off about you, telling me all about those bedtime stories you read and how your voices are so much better than mine. I get it--I'm obsessed with you, too. We miss you. Gonna go pray at the shrine we made for you, I guess. Get home safe, okay? We love you.

But right now, as Jake sits in The Hard Deck only a few days after the successful Uranium Mission, he's smiling as he scrolls through the emails you'd sent him that he's only just now able to read.

He's nursing a beer, shoulders slumped and lips pulled faintly upwards as he basks in the warm evening sun filtering in through the window. It's noisy as ever all around him--Rooster pounding away on the piano with Maverick right there next to him, Coyote and Fanboy shooting the shit as they play a truly pathetic game of pool, someone being thrown overboard--but everything's white noise when he reads your emails.

Your emails are a little bit different now--especially now that Charlotte is twelve. She's less apt to let you take pictures of her now, going through the make-a-face-at-the-camera phase or just running away at the first sign of your lens facing her. You managed to snap a good one the other day, one where her green eyes are glimmering in the sun as she sips on a lemonade. Jake looks closely at the picture and decides that the two of you are at that little bistro by your house that you like to walk to.

Your daughter's glossy hair is longer than it was when he left and God, if she isn't growing more and more beautiful everyday. She looks just like you. She's got your exuberance and even though he would never say it to you or Charlotte, she's even got the little crinkle between her brows that seems to just pulse when she's frustrated.

He rereads your paragraph again.

Well, good morning to you, Lieutenant Husband. I woke up this morning to your daughter's dog peeing on the rug outside the bathroom. And your daughter thought that was the funniest thing in the world until I made her clean it up! I'm a mean mom, I guess. But I made up for it because we walked down to Frankie's and I let her get the bottomless lemonade. Currently writing this during her fourth bathroom trip. Think we're gonna catch a movie in a little bit and then maybe get some ice cream after. We miss you, baby. Can't wait to hear your voice again. And even though she won't say it, I know Charlotte can't wait to take you up on that beach day you promised her. Be good, stay safe, stay alive, okay? We love you more than anything in the world and you're definitely gonna have to re-potty train Sandy when you come home!

He missed you two more than anything in the world. But what he missed the most was just the domesticity the two of you had blissfully settled into. What he wouldn't give to wake up to Sandy peeing on the rug outside the bathroom, to back you up when Charlotte groaned about having to clean it up, to walk down to Frankie's with the two of you and tease Charlotte for using the bathroom so many times, to go see whatever stupid Kristen Stewart movie is playing, to eat a cone of mint chip ice cream and take the long way home. He ached for it, really--even if he knew there was only a few more days until he'd be back in it.

He could hardly wait.

"Who's the teeny-bopper?"

Jake nearly jumps out of his skin, jerking back against the wooden booth and snapping up to look up at the squadron that has suddenly gathered all around him. It's Payback that's asked, his eyebrow perched as he leans in to get a closer look at Charlotte.

"God, she looks just like you," Phoenix adds, narrowing her eyes on what is essentially Hangman's mouth and nose on a much smaller face. "Younger sister?"

Everyone's staring at Jake now.

It isn't even that he's been hiding the two of you--he loves showing you off. But it's just that it hasn't come up and quite frankly, they've been a little busy the past few weeks.

Bob's always been good at reading people--so when he studies the photograph and then studies the redness in Hangman's cheeks and the way he wets his tongue nervously, Bob knows. Bob knows before anyone else--besides Maverick and Coyote, that is.

"How's my niece?" Coyote asks, clapping Jake on the shoulder with a sly grin.

Jake sighs, shaking his head softly at Javy before submitting to it all--thrusting his phone forward to let the squadron read your email and look at the picture of Charlotte.

"Niece? No way," Fanboy exclaims, brows furrowed. "No way."

But now Rooster is holding the phone, his mouth agape, zooming in on Charlotte's face and it is suddenly undeniable to everyone there--that is absolutely the spawn of Jake Seresin. Right down to the dimples and the green eyes, that is his daughter.

"Charlotte," Jake says softly, trying to choke down all that pride that is inching its way up his throat. "She's twelve. And she's the best person that's ever lived, obviously."

Phoenix would've snorted if she hadn't been so totally awe-struck.

"You taking all the credit for that?" Rooster quips, shooting a playful smirk Jake's way.

But Jake just holds his hands up in surrender, sighing as he shakes his head.

"I'll give that to the wife," he says fondly. "She's also the best person that's ever lived. Better than all of you combined."

Coyote takes a sip of his own beer before nodding.

"Oh, absolutely," he agrees at once. "That woman's a saint for putting up with you and raising that Hellion."

Javy's joking of course--he'd actually never seen a more communicative, loving relationship than yours and Jake's. And he'd never met such a well-rounded girl as Charlotte. She had a good head on her shoulders, put there by her parents. Javy was even sure that Charlotte knew more than he did already and she hadn't even finished middle school.

"A wife, too?" Bob asks softly, smiling as he reads your email.

"And a dog," Fanboy adds softly, scanning over your paragraph.

Jake hums, nodding, trying not to look too pathetically in love with you. Even though he is, in fact, pathetically in love with you.

"Going on thirteen years," Jake says. "Thirteen happy years."

And everyone knows that he means it, especially when he just glances back at his phone in Rooster's hands and smiles softly to himself. He is thoroughly in love with you and with your daughter--Hell, he just loves your shared life. He's itching to go home, even if a poorly house-trained dog is waiting for him.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Phoenix says, bumping him with her eyebrows furrowed.

"And when can we meet them?" Payback adds.

Jake is grinning now--just the prospect of his Navy family meeting his real family makes affection swarm his heart. He shrugs.

"Maybe we could figure something out before everyone has to go. I'm sure we can get Charlotte out of school for a couple of days. Family's a good enough reason for me--bet it will be for the wife, too."

He's gushing with pride--he's not even trying to, but he really is. Coyote is used to the way Jake practically glows when he talks about you and Charlotte. Hell, he even gets it. You're beautiful and funny and kind and whip-smart. You hold it down and make it look easy. And Charlotte is a perfect balance of the two of you, striking every single genetic sweet-spot.

"I'm shocked," Rooster says. "You're so...gooey right now."

"Yeah, Bagman," Phoenix says with a smile. "Going all soft on us."

Hangman wants to roll his eyes again. Really, he does. But he just can't. So he takes another sip of his beer, thinks about the way you would be cuddled into him right now and quipping back at Rooster as the two of you watch Charlotte sweetly order her third lemonade from Penny, and shrugs with a grin tugging on his lips.

"I guess I am," he smiles.

here is my tag list!!

if you liked this, consider checking out my Jake x You story!

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: So I had to post this chapter in 2 parts because of how long it was and the formatting was weird otherwise. So here we are, and 2 part chapter! But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 pt. 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 2

Charlie eventually left after a few hours of convincing Sam and Dean that I would be absolutely fine infiltrating the club without them. At least at first. Some negotiations took place and after a while we all came to an agreement - I’d go in, scope the place out and unlock every door before leaving and letting the boys take over, handing over the intel on who everyone was and where they were stationed. This would make the kills less messy and reduce civilian casualties. Once this decision was made, we ate dinner before the guys went back upstairs to get as much information on the strip club as possible, whilst I went to finish the laundry from earlier.

I’d dropped Sam’s clothes off in his room before I headed Deans room to deposit his. Upon arriving, I twisted the handle and let myself in, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him before placing the neat stacks of clothing on his bed. Patting the top on the piles to ensure they wouldn’t topple over, I was turning to leave when something caught my eye. It was a pile of napkins and receipts crumpled up and tossed in the bin by the door - the same ones that made me feel so deflated earlier today. I smiled, feeling some semblance of relief course through me as I made my way upstairs again. As I walked I pondered; the Winchesters unknowing of the fact that I’d spent a short amount of time taking exotic dance classes. My ex boyfriend had paid for them so I could give him a ‘private show’ in cheap lingerie, and not to toot my own horn but I was pretty good at what I did back then so this should be a breeze. The only thing was that now I had a point to prove, and boy was I going to prove it.

I strode into the room where the boys were - Deans head in his hands and Sam’s face pressed to the inside of a book that was open on the table. He could have been asleep, if it wasn't for the fact that his eyes opened when I walked in. Without saying a word I grabbed an empty chair and set it in the middle of the room away from the desks and bookcases, making both men flinch at the abruptness.

“What are you doing?” Dean quizzed, lifting his head from his hands.

“Proving to you that I’m perfect for this case.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and I was unsure if he was catching on. I grabbed his phone from the table, unlocking it and finding the perfect song to play, settling on ‘Apocalyptic’ by Halestorm. At the start of the music he seemed to realise what was going on and he sat up eagerly, watching me intently as I undid my hair from its ponytail. I ruffled it up close to the roots, putting some volume in there as he went to stand up. I placed my fingertips on his chest and pushed gently, making him sit back down in his chair. I shook my head.

“Not you.”

He looked at me, puzzled; however his jaw dropped when I took Sam’s hand and urged him to stand. Sam had been paying minimal attention and just about knew what was going on when I gently pushed on his toned stomach, moving him backwards towards the chair in the middle of the room. I felt my heart do a small flip at the sheer size of the younger Winchester, this being my first time standing so close to him. And he smelt softer than Dean - less leather and gunpowder and more mint and fresh linens. I looked up at Sam through my lashes, watching his chest rise and fall more rapidly than before as he scanned my face. I smiled.

“Just relax, Sam. I Promise I don’t bite - at least not unless you want me to,” as the words left my lips I heard a SNAP and looked over at Dean, who’d now crushed the pencil he was using into splinters. I couldn’t help but smirk, starting to enjoy this perhaps a little more than I should. I pushed on Sam’s hips, urging him to sit, now in perfect view of his older brother. I stood in between Sam’s thighs and looked down at him, watching how his big eyes followed my hands as I slid them down over his shoulders and chest before running them back up again, tracing a single finger up over his Adam’s apple and tilting his chin up to look at me. The moment his eyes met mine his lips parted slightly and I leaned in close, so close that I could almost taste him. He let out the quietest groan and I whispered over his lips:

“I’ll try to make this enjoyable.”

I was bending over slightly, feeling my already very short skirt ride up. I sashayed around Sam, swaying my hips to the music and trailing my hands over his body with feather-light touches. Every time I did I felt him tense up or let out a small noise, especially when I crouched down behind the chair and slid myself underneath it, appearing between his legs and pushing myself up, my own legs straight and spread wide as I leant forwards. I now faced Dean, making eye contact with him as he watched me slide my hands up Sam’s thighs as I perched myself in his lap, swaying my hips as I pressed into him. I heard him suck in a breath at the contact, his manhood twitching in his jeans beneath the softness of my ass. I brought my knees and ankles together in a ladylike fashion before spreading them wide again, my legs pressing hard into the inside of Sam’s thighs. Deans knuckles went white as I ran my hands over my body and through my hair, biting my bottom lip sensually. Feeling Sam’s hands graze my knees, they slowly started to trail up my thighs as he snuck touches in where he could. My heart fluttered in my chest - his hands were already treating me far more gently than Deans did. I let him touch me for a few moments before I smacked his hands away and stood up. Spinning to face him I flipped my hair back, and slowly - oh so slowly - traced my hands down my own figure. As I outlined every curve I lowered myself so I was kneeling right before him - right between his legs that were spread wide like my own as my bare knees rested on the cold floor. I ghosted my hands up the inside of his thighs as he let out a shaky breath. I smiled up at him, but it seemed he was past the niceties as I noticed how dark his eyes had gone. I drew my hands back and spun around so I was now facing Dean whilst still nestled between Sam’s thighs. The older brother had pulled his chair out for a better view as his elbows rested on his knees as his large palms came together - as though in prayer - in front of his plump, kissable lips. He stared at me, unmoving and barely blinking, as though he were in a trance. Still on my knees, I threw Dean a coy grin before I placed my hands on the floor and walked them forwards, my ass now completely on show to Sam as my denim skirt did nothing to keep me covered. My back dipped in a feline manner as my chest came into contact with the floor, and I couldn’t help but think to myself that I would put money down that Dean loves this position for rough, pleasure-seeking sex. I hummed to myself at the thought of him fucking me into his mattress like this; one large, rough hand on my hip and the other propping himself up over me as he would moan my name and I would lose myself in his bedsheets.

I tore myself away from my daydream by sliding my hands forward so I was laying on my front before rolling onto my back, tilting my head back so I was looking at Dean upside down, my hair pooling around me. I gnawed on my bottom lip again as I planted both feet on the floor so my knees were bent and touching, before lifting one leg as gracefully as I could into the air and pointing my toes. Reaching my arms up, I gently touched my ankle and trailed my fingers over my leg, up my thigh - catching on my skirt and lifting it higher - along the soft skin of my exposed torso and over my breasts. I then dragged my fingers through my hair and over my scalp, my outstretched arms lifting my tank top a little - flashing Sam some braless underboob. I heard him moan and shuffle in his chair, however my eyes were still locked with Deans, and I watched as the older brother leant back and spread his legs a little wider, adjusting himself in his jeans as he laced his fingers together over his abdomen. Without missing a beat, I flipped myself back over onto my stomach and played the previous motions in reverse - sliding upwards so I was on all fours and then back to being just on my knees. I turned so I was facing Sam again, grinning at his hooded eyes and slack jaw as I placed my hands on his knees and pushed myself up to standing. I stepped around him slowly, my hands running down his broad shoulders as I moved to stand behind him. I leant down and whispered into his ear, his head dipping to the side slightly as my breath fanned out over his hot skin:

“Admit it, I’m perfect for the case.”

I watched his eyes flutter closed as he replied in a breathy voice.

“Yes… you’re perfect…” he paused, like he’d forgotten to finish his sentence, “…perfect for the case, I mean.”

I smiled as I stood up straight, catching Deans piercing gaze again.

“I’m going to bed - it’s been a long day. You boys should too,” my voice came out perhaps a little more sultry than I expected.

They both nodded, humming in response as I turned away, walking to my bedroom and leaving behind me at least one testosterone-field time bomb.

I’ll probably regret that whole ordeal in the morning

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Up Next:

Chapter 9

[kentocidal]

the betrothal.

users: rex lapis x fem!reader

warning! this file has been corrupted! do not open! yandere!rex lapis, violence, description of a dead body, death of an unnamed character, power imbalance, age gap, pre-canon, like many years pre-canon, historical inaccuracies, ask to tag.

internal message: so uhhh. yeah this. this is an au i’ve been working on. this is my introduction to it p much. i hope this reaches other freaks like me so i have an excuse to write more yan!zhongli and get into the talks of enabler!xiao

new notifications! @kaedescara @yaekiss (want to get a notification? send me an ask off anon!)

“huh?”

you stood completely rigid in the elaborate dining hall of the large house that was not your own, your father’s hand on the small of your back, keeping you from running.

you turned your head to look up at him, blinking and feeling your chest go tight as he laughed awkwardly at your reaction to his statement. “darling, i’m sure you heard me. this is your betrothed.”

“but… what? i never…” you looked straight ahead again, at the man in front of you who was surrounded by his parents and a handful of guards, a sweet and tender smile on his face as he looked you over like you were furniture and not a person. your father patted your back to try and encourage you to step forward, but you stayed planted firmly in your spot next to him.

“honey, i know you remember me explaining this to you.” your father’s lips were near your ear as he mumbled to you, sighing. “if you didn’t find a husband, i would find one for you. i told you this.”

something inside of you twisted. something deep, carnal, dark. this was wrong.

you had known from the moment you came of age that something… something bigger was meant for you. your archon had called to you from the moment you first learned of him and his existence. his voice traveled through the echoes in the stone forest, telling you exactly where the good footholds were to ensure you wouldn’t fall. he made you feel lucky – it felt like you never tripped over stones or the boards in liyue harbor that other people stumbled over. you always had just the right amount of mora in your coin purse whenever you were hungry or thirsty or saw a brand new yukata in a deep brown and black that fit just right, no alterations needed. you felt blessed, felt that your calling was to be a handmaid to the archon, to his temple, keep yourself holy…

and your father was having none of it.

he had told you for the past six months that you were delusional, that you needed to focus on growing up and marrying off and bearing children to carry on your bloodline. you were the only daughter; your mother never produced a son before she passed. it was up to you, but you were not willing.

you felt your eyes start to well with tears and a scratchy lump settle in the back of your throat as you looked at this man, this stranger in front of you, and bowed slightly to him.

“pleasure to meet you,” came your meek, timid voice, shrouded in anger, panic, betrayal.

your betrothed smiled at your submissive stature, chuckling to himself and reaching to take one of your hands to press a kiss to the back of it. “the pleasure is mine. come, have dinner with us. please. it would make me so happy to feed you.”

and you went, because you had to. and you broke bread with this stranger, with this family that you were becoming forced to be a part of. this marriage would come sooner rather than later, and the idea of giving up your beliefs to make this man happy tore at you.

you could hardly eat the meal prepped for you, though it smelled delicious and looked divine. fresh pheasant and vegetables from a garden outside… you felt like you were going to be sick instead. 

you forced some rice down your throat before standing and saying you had a headache, urging to be escorted home by your father. he did not wish to oblige, but your betrothed – what was his name again? – was kind enough to excuse you both early. it felt like one of the blessings your archon was bestowing upon you. he had to understand that this was not for you.

the walk home was dark and filled with your father speaking down to you about the disgrace you had brought to the family, how it was not in the bloodline to become a priest of any kind. you swallowed, and simply turned down the opposite fork in the road towards one of the statues of your archon, refusing to listen to the shouts of your father who demanded you return to him at once.

you instead slipped underneath the roof of the small lean-to temple, fussing about to get incense lit and leave mora in the plate before taking your place on your knees in front of the statue, hands folded in your lap after smoothing out the fabric there. the heady scent of incense filled your head and soothed your worries almost immediately, a brush of wind guiding stray hairs from your face, almost like a hand brushing them away.

you bit your lip before speaking into the wind, already feeling the lump in your throat start to shift and loosen, a fresh swath of tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “this isn’t what is supposed to happen, is it?”

silence in the wind. it feels still, suddenly. you hiccup.

“i’m supposed to be guided by you, am i not? you have always guided me to do the right thing, always ensured good things happen to me. if this is true… why do i feel so empty? why does this feel wrong?”

a rustle in the trees. you sniffle and shift closer to the base of the statue, tipping your face up to look at the hooded figure sitting far above your head. you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “i just need an answer. please. i don’t… think i ever want to be married. if there’s a way to escape this, something, anything, please… help me.” 

you cried. you felt like you were in mourning. you felt so empty, so alone. for the very first time in your life. you felt like your archon’s eyes were not on you.

you stood up and dropped more mora in the plate, all that you had in your coin purse, more than you remember packing, before slipping off into the night.

you cried yourself to sleep in your childhood home, curled up tightly until the early morning when you rose to hear liyue in a commotion, groups of footsteps outside your door and running along the trails leading towards the harbor. it was unusually busy as you gathered yourself for the day and hurried to follow the crowd.

it seemed to part for you, people looking over their shoulders to find you and immediately bowing out of your way to let you through. you briefly wondered if news of your engagement made its way through the city already, that the girl who was the archon’s most devoted follower was leaving the fold to be married circulated enough to embarrass you, but you soon discovered this was not the case. 

instead, you joined the crowd in the center of the city where the archon himself had descended upon the people, holding a limp body in his arms, a long dragon tail flicking at the sight of you. you swallowed and almost felt a scream bubble up, but nothing came. 

you stared into the yellow eyes of rex lapis and watched the fire melt away into the eyes of a simple man. he dropped the bleeding body from his arms to the boardwalk of the harbor. it landed with a sickening crack, splattering blood and practically bouncing. the head of the man turned in a disgusting way, and you recognized the face of your betrothed immediately.

in a short moment the archon had stepped over the body of the man you had broken bread with and approached you, holding out a blood coated hand.

“there you are.” his voice was deep, booming, raspy. almost inhuman. his tail flicked under his robes and you could tell his hood was concealing horns that wrapped around pointed ears.

“what have you done?” was your initial reaction, one that you regretted immediately, because the face of your archon hardened like the stones he created in his wake.

“i am answering your prayers, precious one. did you not cry for me to help you? did you not beg on your knees to be saved from this responsibility?” rex lapis cast a glance over his shoulder to the body of the man that was still seeping blood into the wood planks of the harbor. “he was nothing. cursed to a life of solitude. i am relieving you. where is my thanks?”

you shook as you stared at his outstretched hand, large and wet with blood and claws long enough to rip your heart out.

you stared hard at him for a moment as the pieces that had been handed to you one by one by him throughout your life snapped neatly into place, and you felt like your very essence was being pulled in towards him as your smaller hand pressed into his.he smiled at you, a slight grin, knowing and wise, and his eyes seemed to crackle with a sickness you would pretend wasn’t there as he pulled you towards his chest. “you were made for me, my gem. only for me.”

[youunravelme]

to all the girls you've loved before part 1

author's note: hi! remember that time i wrote jack fics? well i'm branching out, so BUCKLE UP BABY. it should be said that this will be multiple parts, i don't know how many though so again, buckle up. also i'm pretending the trade never happened

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, mentions of absent parent

mat barzal. nearly everyone in new york was obsessed with him, you knew him by the awkward elevator interactions when you were leaving work and he was getting home.

you nannied for a family in his building, a mom named erin who was rarely home with two really sweet children, ages 2 and 4.

you didn't even know his name until a few weeks after he moved in when erin mentioned his name in passing conversation, saying something about an nhl player living across the hall.

"i think he's around your age," she said with a sly smirk. "and handsome too, introduced himself to the kids too. such a sweetheart."

"erin," you started. "you can't possibly know he's a sweetheart from one two second interaction."

she tsked and waved you off. "first impressions have a great impact."

you met him when you were getting off the elevator. he had a duffle bag slung over one shoulder and wore a suit, his hair was wet and strewn about in every direction. you were in a pair of sweats to combat the cold.

he mumbled a small hey and made a pathetic excuse for a smile as he waited for you to get off the elevator.

everything you knew about him, you gleaned involuntarily. he must suck at cooking given the amount of times the smoke detector would go off in his place, you could hear the beeping through the walls. and his lack of cooking skills took shape in the trash bags filled with take out boxes that he loudly dumped in the trash chute. you even knew he had a best friend named "tito" from the shouting that erupted every time said friend came over.

you thought nothing of him aside from the mild annoyance at his loud noises.

it wasn't until the fall came and the two year old turned three (and therefore went off to preschool) that things changed.

you'd just settled into your pajamas when erin called asking you to come over.

"is everything alright?" you asked.

"you remember mat?"

"hardly."

she laughed through the phone, though it sounded a little strained. "can you come over? he's found himself in a bit of a situation."

you paused. "what kind of situation?"

spoiler alert: it was an eight month old baby girl kind of situation.

mat was sitting on erin's couch while the baby, whose name was apparently ella, snoozed away in the pack and play when you walked in.

erin explained the situation as you took a seat. something about a fling he had that resulted in a pregnancy (obviously) and the mom decided parenting just wasn't for her so she dropped the baby off with mat and has blocked him on all forms of communication.

erin leant some things like a pack and play for ella to sleep in until he got a crib. but he didn't need that as much as he needed you.

a nanny.

"i know you already have a job, but i can pay well and pay you more for watching all three kids when you have them," mat begged. "i know i have late games so it would require late nights but you can sleep in the guest room if you'd like and i might be gone for a week at a time, but you can invite friends over to hang out and--"

you held up a hand. listening to the man beg and plead for your help was almost heartbreaking. "i'll do it."

he sat back. "what, really?"

you furrowed your brows. "is that a problem?"

mat shook his head. "no! sorry, i was just surprised you'd agree so quickly.

"well, it's not like it would interfere with my time with erin's girls. i could watch your baby during the day and take her to pick up the girls from school and keep ella until you get back."

he still looked unsure. "i work late nights sometimes, is that a problem?"

you thought about the fact your schedule has been empty for the past few months, that the only reason you leave your shitty apartment was because erin needed you to nanny. "i think i can manage."

he smiled for the first time that evening, looking almost near tears. "thank you thank you thank you," he said.

you nodded, a little overwhelmed by his sudden change in demeanor. "when do i start?"

day one

you hesitantly walked into mat's big ass apartment to the sound of a screaming baby.

it was six in the morning.

mat ran into the living room, hair askew, clothes wrinkled, but his baby was in a clean set of pajamas with tears running down her face.

"i don't know what's wrong," he said frantically. "she woke up and i changed her diaper but she's still crying."

you dropped your bag on the floor and made your way over to him, taking ella out of his arms and immediately bouncing her in your own. "she's probably hungry," you guessed.

"i tried that! i put the bottle in the microwave but when i gave it to her she started crying harder and--"

"wait," you stopped him. "you put the bottle in the microwave?" he nodded. "with the formula?" he nodded again. "mat, you can't do that. heat the water separately and then add the formula. and then test it on your wrist to make sure it's the right temperature." you walked into the kitchen and prepared the bottle the right way, showing mat how to do it as you went.

when all was said and done, you placed the new bottle in ella's mouth and watched as she took it without issue.

mat's shoulders sagged in relief. "you're a miracle worker."

you gave him a sheepish smile. "you can go get ready, mat. i've got her from here." he nodded and hurried towards what you assumed was his bedroom while you walked over to the couch to sit down.

ella was a cute baby, you'd give her that. no doubt taking after her father. she looked at you with wide eyes as she drank her bottle, her irises never left your face. it would've been unnerving if she had been an adult.

mat came out a little less frazzled ten minutes later. ella had finished her bottle at that point and the both of you were laid on the floor doing tummy time.

"what's that?" he pointed to the two of you once he stopped running his hands through his hair.

"what's what?"

"what's that you're doing?" he gestured again before placing his hands on his hips.

"tummy time," you smiled. "it helps build her neck muscles. also helps prevent flat spots on the back of her head."

you didn't like to judge people for their skin color, because it's racist, but you didn't think it was possible for mat to be paler until you spoke.

"she could get flat spots?"

you hung your head as ella babbled to herself.

it was going to be a long employment.

day ten

you'd finally gotten mat on a rhythm, he looked a little less scared with every day that you came over.

but today was different.

he was going on an eight day roadie which meant you would be watching her overnight several nights in a row (on top of erin's kids).

you'd done much harder jobs before, so you weren't nervous about the time you spent with ella, it was more so you feared all the confidence you built in the week or so you'd worked for mat would disappear when he came back and realized he had an eighteen year commitment waiting at home for him.

"you have my number, right?" he asked even though you got it the night you accepted the position.

"yes, mat," you said instead.

"and you'll text me if anything goes wrong?"

you nodded. you bounced ella on your hip and held her hand up. "bye dada," you said for her, smiling as she did.

mat's bags were stationed by the front door, but he made no move towards them. he stayed planted in front of you, but his hands fidgeted.

"can i--" he cleared his throat. "can i hold her?"

"of course!" you didn't hesitate to pass her off to mat, who handled her like precious cargo, but was still a little unsure about the entire situation.

once she was settled, he took his eyes off her to look at you. "you know where the guest room is, right?" you nodded. "right, just make yourself at home. i stocked the fridge, i have just about every streaming service, so you should be fine." he paused. "but if you aren't--"

"mat--"

"--you can just text me if you need anything, alright?" he turned his head to focus on ella who took her hands to slap to his cheeks. "and you be good, okay baby?" his voice pitched higher right before he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

you checked your watch to keep yourself from intruding on what felt like a special moment. "mat," you started. "you should get going before you're late."

he nodded and pressed one last kiss to the top of ella's head before passing her back to you. "i'll facetime you when i get to the hotel, okay? so i can tell her goodnight?"

you nodded and left out the part that she would probably be asleep because honestly, you weren't expecting him to remember.

"alright," he said, wiping his hands on his pants before making his way to the front door where his bags sat. "i'll see you in a week."

"bye bye dada," you said in a high squeaky voice, using ella's hand to wave just like before.

he smiled before walking out the door and locking it behind him.

day fourteen

it wasn't until halfway through mat's roadie that weariness settled in. you were constantly surrounded by children, which normally wouldn't be an issue, but between ella and erin's two kids, you were practically a full time single parent.

which sucked because it wasn't even like you got laid to even create this issue.

mat, though, true to his word, facetimed every night he possibly could. he smiled wide every time he saw ella's face and while she was confused at how your phone worked, ella smiled and laughed at the sound of her father's voice.

"what have you been up to?" he asked one evening. you were spoon feeding ella sweet potato puree for dinner while he was laying in bed in his hotel room.

"nothing really, we went to the park today, she was really happy to see a few dogs."

mat grumbled. "certainly didn't get that from me."

you couldn't help it, you smiled at his pout.

"is that--" he guffawed. "did i make you smile?"

you rolled your eyes. "i'm sure i've smiled at you before."

"you haven't!"

"and i don't blame you!" another voice piped in. "he's not funny."

when mat saw the look on your face, he sighed. "that's tito," he said like that explained everything.

"nice to meet you, tito!" you called.

"is that your nanny?" you heard him call. "can i say hi to ella?"

mat rolled his eyes but moved the camera to show you a good looking man lounging in the other bed. he was handsome in a way that mat wasn't. you couldn't really compare one to the other in the same way you couldn't compare an apple to quantum physics.

"ella can you say hi?" you asked in a small voice. ella spared a single glance to camera before screaming. you laughed before spoon feeding her more puree. "sorry," you started. "she does that sometimes."

tito looked terrified but covered it up quickly when mat cleared his throat. "she just screams randomly?"

you shrugged. "usually when she's excited or frustrated."

tito laid back in his bed and started scrolling on his phone. "babies, man."

mat came back into view. his head rested back on his pillow as he held the camera above his face. "are you both doing okay?"

you opened your mouth to reply but tito cut him off.

"you don't need to ask her that everyday!" he said.

you couldn't see what he did, but judging by the shaking of the camera and the cackle that escaped tito's lips, you'd give your left leg and say he flipped his best friend off.

you took your eyes off the camera to look at ella who was using her puree covered hands to rub at her eyes. you put your phone down and grabbed a napkin to immediately start wiping her face and hands.

"is everything okay?" mat asked. "did i lose you?"

"just had to put the phone down to clean her up. she's getting sleepy." you pulled ella out of her high chair, resolving to clean it up later, and picked your phone up.

mat's face lit back up when ella came into view. "hi baby girl," he smiled. "are you getting ready to go to bed?"

ella rested her head on your shoulder and yawned.

"well, i'll let you two go," mat sighed. "i love you, ella bean." he directed his gaze to you. "same time tomorrow?"

"i'll let you know if anything changes."

"night."

"night, mat."

he ended the call and left you to take ella to bed.

day twenty-seven

nearly a month into working for mat and everything was going great. ella had gotten used to you which meant she knew you would come back when you left the room. the first two weeks, she cried every time you left. and if you had to guess, it probably had something to do with how her mother treated her.

and mat, well, he was embracing the father role well enough for someone who thought he was an unattached bachelor not even a month ago.

as far as you go, you were still getting used to the workload of erin's kids and ella. and while you would never breathe a word of it to anyone, you preferred ella over erin's kids.

your roommate and your boyfriend took some time to adjust to your new hours, but your roommate was excited when you contributed more to groceries and apartment needs. as far as your boyfriend went, he was still getting used to the idea of you being gone all day and sometimes even weekends, but even he admitted ella was the cutest baby he'd ever seen.

you were plating yogurt and some smashed peaches for her morning snack while holding her on your hip when mat walked in the kitchen, hair wet from a shower.

"hey," he said. "how is she?"

at the sound of his voice, ella turned in your arms and made a grabby motion for him. "you tell me," you said, handing her off to him. almost immediately, ella rested her head in the crook of his neck and popped a thumb in her mouth.

a smile crossed his face at the way ella fit so perfectly into the lines of his body.

"you're good at this," you remarked.

he laughed. "i have no idea what i'm doing."

"does anyone?"

"you seem to have it figured out."

the laugh was out of your mouth before you could stop it. "well then, let me go audition for broadway. i'm a better actress than i thought."

neither of you said a word, but you continued to stare at each other until his phone dinged. mat shifted ella around until he could fish his phone out of his pocket. "oh it's my mom." he scrolled through the texts when a figurative lightbulb appeared over his head.

"what?" you asked.

"my family is coming into town to meet ella next week so that might affect the hours you have." a flash of panic must've been present on your face because he quickly spoke again. "but your pay will still be the same! i don't want you to worry about that at all. i might still need you throughout the week."

"okay!" you smiled before moving ella's morning snack to her high chair. mat peeled her off of him and placed her in the seat before taking the chair next to hers.

his phone dinged again.

"oh," he said.

"what is it?"

"my mom wants to meet you."

"oh."

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'll follow you anywhere

masterlist

summary: after the Sokovia accords, Natasha had to go on the run. what do you do when your mother figure goes on the run? follow her of course…

pairing: Natasha x teen reader

warnings: mention of a gun?

genre: fluff

words: 1540

a/n: I wrote this and I have no idea what it's about 😭 I figured I'd write something fun about the trailer in Black Widow but I had no plot and no idea where I was going with this so its super messy.... anyway, so sorry this is so terrible, enjoy😅

(the cinnamon buns from Scandinavia are out of this world though. I lived on those when I went on a vacation through Sweden-Norway-Denmark 🫣)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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It was late. Rain was falling, making a soft sound again the windows glass. You and Natasha were driving though Norway. According to her, it was the best place to hide out. Ross had no jurisdiction there, making it safer for you, she claimed. 

When Ross introduced the idea of the Sokovia accords, you were immediately against them. You refused to sign away your freedom, and so, even after the discussion you all had about it, you had made it clear you would not be signing it. Natasha had, and she begged you to sign it so you would be safe. 

She had always cared about you. Of course, the other Avengers were your family, but ever since escaping the Red Room, it was Natasha who cared about you most. 

She wanted to protect you, and if that meant signing the accords, she’d happily do so. You, however, stood your ground, telling her you didn’t want, and wouldn’t ever, be singing it. She told you she understood your decision, but she had made you promise to stay in your room.

You agreed, for a little while. You understood the world would become a little more dangerous for you in this situation. 

After all, you were a recently turned assassin. 

A big reason why you wouldn’t sign. You refused to let you newly given freedom be taken away. You refused to willingly sign you freedom away, basically just swapping the KGB with the American government. You weren’t doing that, and Natasha understood. 

When Clint came for you, you refused to go with him.

He didn’t give up very easily, but when Vision and Wanda came into the conversation, he took Wanda a left you behind. You didn’t want to have to fight your family, and you thought Clint would understand that, yet he seemed to have a hard time doing so. 

The Avengers had become your family after they saved you from the Red Room, and now they were going to be fighting each other? Over some stupid disagreement? 

You simply refused to take part in it. 

After the fight happened, you heard ‘team Cap’ was locked away in the Raft. You figured that meant Natasha was safe, yet you thought wrong. 

When the door of your room opened and Natasha came inside, she didn’t bother giving you a hug. Instead, she barely greeted you as she moved to your closet, grabbing your emergency bag.

Natasha made you pack one when you were settled with the Avengers, just in case, and as it turns out, it appeared to be very handy. 

You grabbed your backpack too, stuffing some of your important stuff in. It only consisted out of some notebooks and colour supplies, and a book you were reading. As the last item, you quickly stuffed in your stuffed animal before following Natasha, who led you out of the building safely. 

After travelling for a while, and staying in some sketchy places, you and Natasha finally arrived at you destination. 

You looked out the car window. You couldn’t see much, except for the insane amount of nature that grew around you. You saw the small trailer, and you had to admit, that even for a trailer, it didn’t look very fancy. 

Natasha ordered you to stay in the car while she went to check it out, and you agreed as you waited patiently, your own gun in your hands, just in case.

After Natasha came out, you opened your car door, grabbing your bags and waiting for Natasha to do the same. 

“It’s… cosy…” you spoke as you set you bags on the small couch, looking around the trailer. 

You heard Natasha let out a small huff of amusement, walking past you and setting her own stuff in the bedroom. 

“You should put your big bag here. There’s even a small closet,” Natasha said. You followed her, walking into the bedroom and putting your stuff on the other side. 

“What are those bedsheets…?” you asked in slight disgust, hating the typical trailer pattern. Natasha let out a small laugh, running her hand across them. “They’re bedsheets, and they’re soft,” she stated as she sat down, watching your facial expression with amusement. 

“You hilarious,” you deadpanned, putting some stuff in the small closet. 

Natasha laughed again, grabbing your waist when you where turned around, dragging you onto the bed. You let out a small squeal as you fought against her grasp, yet Natasha just laughed and pulled you close, trying to hug you. 

“The trailer is great,” she said as she settled on the bed, having you laying against her. 

You turned around in her grasp, facing her. “It’s safe,” you replied, and Natasha looked at you and nodded. 

You smiled when she leant down to give you a kiss on your forehead, laying your head on her chest. “I’m sorry you’re unsafe because of me,” Natasha suddenly spoke, resting her own head on top of yours. 

“I’m rather unsafe with you, than safe on my own,” you responded, saying it without a thought. 

Natasha smiled again, closing her eyes and letting herself fall asleep, you in her arms.

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

The next morning, Natasha was awake bright and early, tying up her sneakers for a run. You were still softly snoring in the bedroom. You had always hated getting up early, especially when it was for training. 

Natasha went back into the room, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead and wiping some hair from your face, admiring your sleeping form. 

She smiled softly before leaning away, leaving a note on the nightstand and getting outside, ready to run. 

You woke up a while later, finding the note and settling on taking a shower instead, wanting to wait on Natasha for breakfast, not that there was any food in the trailer. 

After the shower, which took you an embarrassingly long while to figure out the controls to heat it up, you sat on the small couch, grabbing the backpack you left there the previous night. You settled on doing some colouring, doodling in some sketchbook while you waited for Natasha to return.  

After Natasha returned, she quickly had a shower, laughing when you came to explain her the controls and failing to realise Natasha had already figured it out. 

When Natasha came out of the small bathroom, you had gone back to colouring, sitting criss-cross on the small couch. 

“I was thinking of driving into town for breakfast. Do you want to go with me?” Natasha asked as she got a fake drivers licence from the cupboard, and then a fake id for you. 

You nodded your head, closing your sketchbook and rushing to put on your shoes. Natasha chuckled at your excitement, grabbing her car keys and waiting by the door. After you had your shoes on you and Natasha walked to the car. 

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

You arrived into town after about an hours drive. Natasha put some gas in the car while you went inside the gas station, seeing if they had any good foods. 

You were outside pretty quickly, telling Natasha the gas station had ran out of buns. 

Natasha drove you two to a supermarket, in which you quickly found the aisle with nice buns. You picked out a cinnamon bun and another sweet treat, while Natasha picked out ‘very boring bread’, in your words.

After getting back in the car, you and Natasha had a little car picnic, in which you happily ate your sweet and sticky treats. 

It was truly a perfect breakfast, according to you.

After Natasha drove both of your back to the trailer. You two had gotten more in the grocery store then just the buns, and you were probably set for at least a few days. 

After parking the car, you helped Natasha with the groceries, being the one to close the fridge as fast as possible after Natasha carefully put the last item in there. It was pretty full to say the least, and you definitely weren’t going to be the one to open it, as everything would surely fall out. 

After spending a cosy day inside, Natasha made dinner, and now you were both settled on the small couch, a movie playing on Natasha’s computer. 

“How old is this movie?” you exclaimed after seeing only 10 minutes, claiming the movie was incredibly slow.

Natasha smiled. “It’s a good movie, give it a chance,” she told you, and you sighed and sat back against her, eating your dinner as you two watched the movie. After you finished your dinner, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, leaning against Natasha in a uncomfortable way, your body bending in uncomfortable places, surely giving your muscles some pain. 

Natasha paused the movie, closing her laptop and carrying you to the bedroom. She put you down on the bed, grabbing your stuffed animal and placing it in your grasp, before turning off the lights and crawling into the bed herself.

It may not have been the Avengers tower, and all the luxuries she had gotten used to over the years, yet she had the biggest luxury of all. 

She had you, her unofficial child, safe, in her arms, and there was nothing else she needed. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @slut4johansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl

[stargirl-sitara]

Tom Riddle x Reader [smut]

[arranged marriage au!]

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you can't believe you are married to Tom Riddle.

as a pure blood, you were expected and prepared by your mother to get married to another pureblooded man, preferably a Malfoy or a Black.

but no amount of your mother's preparation or your sheer confidence could make you face for this.

as your started removing your jewellery, one by one slowly, you started thinking of your new chapter in life.

you have no idea how to talk to him.

sure, you've seen each other at Hogwarts, and he has been tutoring you for potions since you were weak in that subject,

but you weren't considered as "best friends" for that matter.

heck, you two weren't considered as friends too.

you were just a mere acquaintance of his; nothing more, nothing less.

as you were busy dwelling in your own thoughts, you did not hear the door open. nor did you hear Tom coming inside and halting as he saw you in front of the dressing mirror.

it was only when he cleared his throat, while closing the bedroom door and locking it, you looked up at the mirror to find him looking at you, an indescribable face.

your brain immediately went into 'shut down' mode as you fumbled around with your jewels, thinking as to how to avoid the main topic swirling in both, Tom's and your minds,

the first night.

both of you realized it was inevitable.

Tom took the first initiative; he came closer to you, taking slow yet steady steps, almost like a predator, and stood behind you, keeping a decent distance between you and him.

but you were within his arm's reach.

before Tom's entrance, you had thought of changing your wedding dress into something comfortable, but now that thought felt far away as he was just behind you, a mere few steps gap in between.

so, you decided to just change in the bathroom.

to avoid any sexual tension, you had thought of turning towards him and just excuse yourself out of this suffocating aura. but then you realized, you needed help with the buttons of your dress.

your eyes widen, and he saw your reaction through the mirror.

a confused look settled over Tom's face, and it soon went away as it came when he heard your meek voice.

"um...can you help me unbutton my dress? they're at the back and i can't quite reach them..."

with a slight blush on both of your faces, Tom took two steps towards you, and you could feel his long fingers collecting your strands of hair as he brushed them aside.

he then started to unbutton your dress, using both hands as his concentration was solely on the pearly buttons.

you saw through the mirror, as his eyebrows were crunched as he struggled with some of your hair strands tangled with the button.

you let out a hiss as he tried to yank out the hair strands, and he looked up to see your reflection on the mirror, a crunched-up expression on your face while looking at him.

his mouth opened slightly as his mind ran with wild fantasies about you moaning underneath him, the same face you'd make while he pounded into you.

a tent slowly started to form as he couldn't take it anymore. he was tired of being a gentleman now.

so, he grabbed your arm and twirled you around to make you look at him directly; to see his desperation and love through his eyes, without using a damn mirror.

you were shorter than him, your head reaching up to his chest. so, when he suddenly pulled you towards him, you felt your face crash up against a brick wall.

oh, never mind. that was just your husband's chest.

you looked up at him with your alluring eyes, making his breath hitch.

"Tom..." you whispered, and it was the final straw for him as he dived in for a long kiss.

immediately, as if you had wanted it, you closed your eyes, kissing him back with equal force. you wrapped your hands around his neck, as he leaned down to get better, more access to the kiss.

he pulled you up to himself as he staggered backwards and sat on the recliner with you on top of him, still kissing. he pulled the switch of the recliner which allowed the sofa to give his legs a push upwards, as he leaned back.

you two broke the kiss, panting as he pulled you for a kiss again. this time he used one hand for removing your buttons, and you left out a moan when he skillfully removed the button which was tangled with your hair strands.

Riddle smirked. 'so she likes it when I pull her hair during sex, huh.'

as he went down, releasing the buttons quickly, you felt you dress becoming looser and looser and you pressed against him, leaving no space between you two.

Tom sensed your perked nipples as he broke the kiss and looked into your dazed eyes with a feral look.

his soft touches on your back gave your weird tingles on your core as you felt goosebumps arising under the area his fingertips caressed with your skin. you arched your back at the sudden intrusive feelings.

Tom then held you as he got up from the sofa and carried you to the bed within two long strides. He placed you down gently as he started to kiss your cheek, jaw and then your neck as he started biting the soft skin.

he moaned while peppering you with kisses and small love bites, making sure he covers your whole neck area was covered in reddish-purple marks.

he shimmied you out of the dress slowly as he basically got a strip show from you. he bit his lips as he saw how painfully hard your nipples looked.

he let out a shuddered breath as his eyes flickered to yours.

you looked like a frightened doe, looking at him with widen eyes and parted lips, almost as if asking him to ruin you.

he swooshed in as he latched his mouth to a nipple, softly sucking on it and then giving a sharp bite which earned him a short shriek out from you.

he started kissing your body, licking and biting the soft skin as his right hand went underneath to cup your vagina; you release a breathy moan in return.

he smirked, and let his index and middle fingers softly circle over your slit, and prodded the fingers inside you.

you tensed up, but he was quick to resolve your discomfort as he sucked onto your other nipple.

you felt pleasure rushing through your veins as you calmed down, and encouraged him to go faster with his fingers.

But Tom Riddle certainly did not want to listen to you.

as soon as you felt your first-ever orgasm rippling through, he immediately sensed it and pulled his fingers away, teasing you.

you gave out a cry as you craned your head up to see your husband's face in-front of your vagina, his eyes looking up at you as he smirked and let out a hot breath, sending vibrations throughout your body as you felt the hotness tickle your vulva.

you felt heat rise up as he got up and positioned himself towards you, making sure his hard penis makes slight contact with you aching pussy, and both of you let out a moan as the slight brush between the genitals.

"You know, I've always wanted to have you like this, you underneath me, our wedding rings shining as you scream my name." He declared.

And Tom Riddle always gets what he wants.

he pushed himself inside and you felt immense pain as you screamed, holding his forearms as you cried about being full.

Tom saw your expression and bent down to kiss your tears away. he also saw that the bedsheets were getting a little bloodied.

'Expected from a virgin', he thought.

he waited until you calmed down, and slowly started to move, making sure to see you every once in a while, for your expression.

your scrunched up face slowly melted into pure bliss, and you shyly asked him to speed up.

he just smirked and did as he was asked, since you did ask him nicely.

soon enough, as the both of you felt that feeling again, Tom fastened his pace to make sure both of you would cum on the same time. this was something he had envisioned while being with you.

he was blabbering; incoherent words spewing out of his mouth as he talked about how he wished to have you all to himself, while being at hogwarts.

you were confused at first, as he never did interact that good with you anyway; but then you felt the euphoria spreading inside you.

You had had your first-ever orgasm. And Tom had too.

He came inside with a chant of your name like a prayer.

after a few minutes, when the absurd feeling of being high finally diminished, Tom pulled out from you slowly, handling you like a porcelain doll, and stood up to go to the bathroom.

then he came with a damp towel, and started cleaning you, and helped you wear a nightgown he fished out from the closet. He wore his nightwear, changed the bedsheets, and laid you down on the freshly made bedsheets, lying beside you.

he spooned you as he turned off the lights, and whispering a small 'goodnight', he went into sleep.

You wanted to ask him by what he meant when he said about his wishes with yourself during hogwarts, but decided against it as you felt yourself tired and sleepy.

so, you just opted to ask him in the morning.

Besides, being with Tom like this felt surreal.

oh, you still can't believe you're married to Tom Riddle.

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[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Early Retirement

Summary: Izzy washes up on a beach after leaving the Revenge and rowing through a storm. Luckily for him, a kindhearted stranger took it upon themselves to take him in and nurse him back to health. Maybe even give him a new home.

Word Count: 6478

It’s cold. Too cold.

It seeped down into his bones and settled there until he couldn’t feel his limbs, he couldn’t feel anything other than that debilitating cold. He forced his eyes open but saw nothing but darkness, the salt stinging them. His lungs burnt in their attempt to suck in air but received nothing but water. 

Then everything just…disappeared.

The amount of time that passed was a mystery to Izzy but when he came back to consciousness, it was warm. It felt like his body had thawed out, limbs heavy but at least he could feel them now.

His heavy eyelids blinked open, the sunlight coming in through a window making him wince. Everything had a slight blur to it but he could make out that he was in a bedroom, one that he definitely didn’t recognise. He was tucked into a bed, pillows cradling his head and plush bedding cocooning his body, his injured foot elevated on a pile of cushions.

The last thing he could remember was…the sea. Fuck. He had left the Revenge after Stede’s return, at least being allowed the dignity to make that decision himself. A freak storm had rolled in when he was half way to reaching land in his rowboat. It ripped his little boat to shreds and the ocean had pulled him beneath the waves. 

He had barely even fought it when it happened. Izzy had always known this would be how he went, at the mercy of the sea, better than the end of a sword. Men like him didn’t get peaceful deaths, he accepted that a long time ago.

Yet, here he was and it was too warm and soft to be Hell.

As his senses returned to him he focused on a smell that wafted up from somewhere else in the house, it was something savoury, something warm and comforting.

He wasn’t alone then. It made sense, of course, but it still put him on edge.

Izzy tried to pull himself up from the bed but it felt like his body was weighed down and his foot throbbed when he tried to move it. With a grunt, he fell back down onto the bed. He could barely move, he’d need a proper plan before he flung himself out of bed.

Before he could try to move again, the door to the bedroom he was cooped up in opened. “You’re awake,” you smiled warmly, “how are you feeling?”

The pale, ragged, looking man in your guest bed was glaring at you. You were sure he would be threatening if he didn’t look like he just crawled out of an ocean grave.

“Where am I?” he questioned accusingly.

“Somewhere safe,” you assured him, ignoring his hostility as you crossed the room.

He hesitated, watching you cautiously. You supposed you couldn’t blame him, he was in a strange place and somewhat incapacitated.

“What happened?”

You sighed. “You washed up on the beach a few days ago. Saw you on a morning walk, thought you were dead by the look of you. Nearly scared the life out of me when you breathed,” you told him honestly.

“Days?” Perhaps his surprise would have been a little more audible if his voice wasn’t so scratchy. His wide eyes conveyed it enough though.

“Your foot is injured but it was wrapped so I assume you know that. You had an infection, have been in and out of consciousness with a fever for the last four days. I’m not surprised you don’t remember any of it,” you informed him.

“So you just happened upon me, dragged me back to your home, and nursed me back to health?” He was suspicious of you and he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“The doctor got some men to help haul you up from the beach and stopped you from dying on us, he left some medication, but then just left me to it.”

“Where are my things?” It was only then, as he shifted on the bed, that he realised he was only wearing his smalls under the blankets.

“For somebody who just avoided death, you are awfully quizzical,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “Everything that survived your little swim is safely stored in another room. I’m generous enough to try to help a stranger but not naive enough to let them have blades on them. I’ll bring you your clothes now that you’re awake and a pair of linen pants, they’ll be easier to get on and more comfortable than those leathers you washed up in.”

“So you know I could be dangerous?” Izzy squinted at you. You know he was dangerous but taking the chance anyway only made him more suspicious. People didn’t just do things out of the kindness of their hearts, especially for people who they thought were dangerous.

“No offence but when a man washes up on the shore, armed to the teeth and clad in black leathers, I don’t assume they’re just a travelling merchant,” you rolled your eyes.

“This happen a lot?” he asked sarcastically. At least he was well enough to give you some snark.

“Nope, you’re my first,” you shrugged, smirking slightly. “So, what do I call you?” you asked.

“None of your business,” Izzy growled, though it came out weak and scratchy.

“Well, you’re in my home but okay,” you rolled your eyes at him, as if he wasn’t a threat. Then again, he supposed he wasn’t much of a threat right now.

Izzy frowned, but his glare remained hard on you. “Who are you?”

“You tell me and I’ll tell you, for now you can just call me…your guardian angel,” you offered, making him scowl. “Anyway, you’re looking a lot brighter than when you washed up. You should be able to keep solid foods down now, so I made some healing stew special for you. Oh, and the bread just came out the oven this morning.”

Before Izzy could question you further, you had waltzed out of the room.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to return though, this time entering the room with a tray balanced on your hip. You walked up to his bedside, placing the tray down on the table beside his bed. 

The tray held a bowl of stew, a couple slices of bread, a mug of herbal tea, and a glass of water. 

Izzy just glared at the tray as you took a step back.

“Look, I’m not holding you hostage. If you want to leave, you can, but have some common sense and stay put for a while. Your foot was inflamed when you showed up, the doctor had to shave down the bone and redo the stitches. You need to rest it if you want it to heal properly,” you chastised him.

The man frowned, looking down at his foot. You saw the pain in his eyes and it made your voice soften. “Doctor said you’ll be able to move around in a couple of days if you use a crutch, then you’ll just have to use a cane. Once it’s healed though, he said it probably won’t affect your movement or balance at all.”

“You sure?” he dared to be hopeful.

“The doctor seems pretty sure. But you have to follow orders if you want it to heal properly. So you can’t go hobbling around looking for your ship just yet.”

He squinted at you, suspicions returning at full force. “What do you know about my ship?”

“Relax. I don’t know anything. I’m just not stupid, I figured you’re a pirate,” you shrugged.

Apparently, that only made him more suspicious of you. “And you still risked taking me in?” You had to have ulterior motives, it’s the only thing that made sense.

“You gonna kill me?”

“No. Not if you don’t give me a reason too.”

“Rob me.”

“No, unless I kill you.”

“...take me hostage and sell me?”

“No…”

Izzy sighed. You were right, he wasn’t a threat right now and even if he was, he had no intentions on hurting you unless you gave him a reason too.

“Then it looks like we’re safe,” you smiled, like you had just sorted some problem out. “Eat, I’ll be back soon to collect your dishes and change your bandages,” you ordered lightly before leaving the room again.

The next time you returned it was to take away his dirty dishes. He had emptied the bowl, having not realised how hungry he had been until he took that first bite. He would probably be able to eat more but knew better than to risk it, too much too soon could have him bringing it all back up.

You had brought some supplies with you to change the bandages on his foot. He had glared at you the whole time, as if expecting you to do something to purposely hurt him. You didn’t though. Instead, you handled his foot and ankle delicately, cleaned the wound as carefully as you could and rebandaged it. Working diligently, only speaking when you were apologising for something you couldn’t help or asking him if the bandages were too tight.

The rest of the day went much like that. He didn’t speak whenever you came into the room to bring him food or take away empty plates, and you didn’t try to engage him in conversation, just polite small talk before leaving again.

-

The next morning, Izzy woke up to you bringing him another tray of food. “Morning,” you greeted him, placing the tray down beside him. “Made you some breakfast, have to keep your strength up.”

Izzy tried to sit up, making himself wince. You moved quickly, helping him shift into a comfortable sitting position. His whole body still ached but the comfortable bed was helping, he couldn’t imagine how he would have felt if he had been recovering on his little cot back on the Revenge.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, sounding like you genuinely wanted to know, weren’t just being polite.

“Like my boat wrecked,” Izzy mumbled, letting you settle the tray over his lap.

“Well, that’s to be expected. You look better than you did yesterday already, that’s a good sign,” you encouraged. “I’ll be around, have some things to tend to, but just shout if you need something.” Izzy only nodded before you were out the door again.

-

The next few days went very much the same but with each passing day, Izzy could feel his strength coming back. He could sit up perfectly fine on his own, had even stood once, only to fall back down when his injured foot touched the floor. He could feel himself recovering, the room was comfortable and the food was good. He supposed he shouldn’t complain but…he was feeling cooped up, trapped, useless.

Izzy lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling when he heard movement outside his window. It was probably nothing of interest but even that was appealing to him right now.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, bracing his weight against the bedside table as he stood on his uninjured foot. He kept the wounded foot from touching the floor as he hobbled towards the window.

It was morning, you had just taken his breakfast dishes from his room, and the weather outside was bright. He looked out over the garden.

From what he could make out, he was on the second floor of a cottage, no other residences in sight.

From his window, he could see your garden where you were tending to your chickens. Tossing feed out for them. He lent against the window frame to support his weight and just watched.

You wiped your hands on your apron once you were finished tending to your chickens, looking up to see your guest in the window of the guest bedroom.

Izzy felt his face heating up, a shame building in his chest as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. But you just smiled brightly and waved at him, silently noting to yourself to chastise him for moving around without support.

-

Izzy scowled at you from his position, perched on the edge of his bed.

“Here you go,” you presented him with the wooden crutch the doctor had given you for him. “Think you can manage?” you kept your hands out, as if ready to catch him if he fell, as he pulled himself to his feet, letting the crutch take the weight off of his bad foot.

“I’ve used a crutch before,” he grumbled, determined to be able to be properly independent again.

“Just making sure,” you were still watching him closely, hands hovering around him as you moved out of his way.

Rolling his eyes at you, Izzy gave the crutch a test run, using it to walk across the room without grabbing at tables and walls. You just nodded to yourself, satisfied that he was adjusting well to it.

“Listen, now you move around more by yourself but don’t take the piss,” you scolded, surprising him a little. “You still need to rest, to stay off of your foot as much as possible. Okay?”

As much as he wanted to scoff and dismiss you, he could tell you were serious.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Seriously, just accept some help, alright?” you found yourself rolling your eyes at him again, you had lost count of how many times you had done so since this man could hold a conversation again. Still, you found you did it with a little fondness.

-

Now that Izzy had started using his crutch, he could move around your cottage, moving up and down the stairs with your help. He insisted that he didn’t need your help but you wouldn’t let him near the narrow staircase unless you were with him.

At least that meant he could come downstairs and sit in the living room or the kitchen instead of being locked away in his room all alone, he could even go and sit outside and get some fresh air. 

He was currently in the living room, you had left him in front of the fire with a selection of books to choose from, while you finished cleaning up in the kitchen. You had just put the last of the dishes away when you heard hissed cursing coming from the other room.

Tossing the rag down, you rushed into the living room to find Izzy standing, gripping the back of the couch with one hand and clutching his crutch with another. The pain was etched on his face.

“Alright, come on,” you spoke softly, with care, as you hurried to his side. 

You took hold of his arm, listening to him complain as you encouraged him to lean some weight against you. Still, he let you guide him back to the couch and sit him down.

Once he was sitting and you had placed the crutch to the side, you knelt down in front of him and pulled his wounded foot into your lap.

He had knocked it against something when he was walking around and when you unwrapped the bandages you saw that it was a little red but looked perfectly fine otherwise. He hadn’t broken any of the stitches, he wasn’t bleeding, it didn’t look too irritated. Thankfully, he was still on the mend.

“You have to take it easy, be careful and don’t over do it,” you sighed. Something about this man told you that he wasn’t used to sitting idle for long.

“I’m fine. Just knocked it,” he insisted petulantly.

“Yeah, well…just be careful. Once the bandages come off for good and you can put proper weight on your foot again, you’ll be able to get around with just a cane.”

“And then I’ll have outstayed my welcome,” Izzy nodded like he was agreeing with something.

“What? No!” you frowned, sitting back on your heels. “Of course not. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need.”

Izzy blinked at you, face contorting in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I’m kind and you’ve been a decent guest so far,” you shrugged, like it was truly that simple and that true, standing and brushing off your knees. “Now, sit still for once and I’ll fetch you some tea,” you ordered and, well, Izzy could follow orders, couldn’t he.

You were just about to leave the room, just about to cross the threshold, when he spoke up.

“My name is Izzy.”

You paused in the doorway, taking a moment to make sure you had heard him correctly. You turned back to him with a smile, all soft and sweet in a way that warmed him from the inside out.

“Izzy,” you repeated, testing the word on your tongue. Izzy found that he liked the sound of it and you decided that you liked the feel of it. “I like it.”

Izzy only nodded when you gave him your own name, still smiling as you disappeared back into the kitchen to prepare that tea for the two of you.

That evening, the two of you enjoyed a soothing tea in front of the fire together.

-

“I think it makes you look distinguished,” you complimented as you monitored his movements, smiling at how far he had come since you found him half dead in the sand.

“That’s a generous way of saying old,” Izzy rolled his eyes, adjusting his hold on the handle of his new cane. It wasn’t anything fancy but it was simple and sleek, good enough for him in his opinion.

“Absolutely not,” you tutted. “Anyway, you wear the age well so it still wouldn’t be an insult,” you shrugged.

Izzy looked away from you meaningfully, hoping to play it off as casual. “If you say so.”

“You could get a real nice one with a silver handle or something. Oh! You can get one with a hidden knife in it!”

You could just picture holding a sleek but ornate cane, just simple enough to satisfy him. Looking all distinguished and formal until somebody says the wrong thing, looks at him the wrong away, and he unsheathes his hidden blade.

“Huh…that’s not a bad idea, actually,” Izzy hummed, looking at the cane more approvingly this time. Yeah, maybe he could make this work.

-

Evening tea had become a bit of a routine for the two of you now. Sitting in your cozy living room in front of the fire, blankets over your laps, a cup of tea in your hands, and maybe a book each depending on your mood. It was a pleasant, calming way to end the day.

Izzy kept glancing at you, watching as your eyes followed the lines in your book, lost in the fictional world. He wanted to speak, to get this off of his chest, to take the weight off of your shoulders but…but he found himself worried that saying what he needed to say would take all of this away from him. He liked this, even if it wasn’t a life made for him. He would miss it.

“I’m really able to leave now. I’d find a ship,” he finally managed to speak, to push the words out without faltering.

You paused, lowering your book to look at him. “And I’ve told you, you’re still welcome. I like living out of the way, like the quiet, y’know, but it’s been nice to have you here. You’re interesting and I enjoy your company. Izzy scoffed. “Really, I do,” you insisted.

“Well, you’re probably the only person who does,” he muttered, thumbing at the pages of the book he hadn’t been reading.

“That can’t be true.”

“Apparently, I’m difficult.”

“Okay…yeah, I can see that. But it’s kind of…endearing, you know?” you laughed a little.

Izzy pondered it for a moment, still not really believing it despite how sincere you sounded. “...if you say so.”

“I do,” you didn’t care how many times you needed to reassure him, he needed it and that was all you needed to know. “Anyway, don’t you go worrying about rushing out of here. You can stay as long as you need.”

“You wouldn’t want me here if you knew who I was,” Izzy insisted firmly.

“Well, tell me who you are, Izzy,” you placed your book down, completely forgotten about, so that he could see your full attention was on him. “Tell me, Izzy. It won’t change anything,” you promised.

Izzy sighed, placing his unopened book down as well, refusing to look at you as he spoke. “You can’t promise that.”

“You’ll never know unless you tell me,” you shrugged.

Izzy took a stabling breath but nodded, knowing you were right, that you would probably find out eventually anyway. It would be better if you heard it from him.

“My full name is Israel Hands and you were right about me being a pirate,” he started. For some, that would be enough information.

“...that name is familiar,” you hummed thoughtfully, trying to remember where you heard it. It didn’t sound like a common name and you were certain you didn’t know anyone with the name ‘Hands’, but you had definitely heard the name before somewhere.

“I’m the first mate of Blackbeard,” he added.

For a moment, you could only gape at him. It wasn’t everyday you found out you were housing one of the most infamous pirates of your time.

Izzy waited for the horror or disgust to set in. He knew the stories and tall tales people told, some true and others wildly fabricated. He knew that you had likely heard one or two stories yourself if you recognised his name.

You shook off the surprise but found yourself more confused about how he ended up here. “What is the first mate of Blackbeard doing washing up here with a missing toe?” you asked, not sounding disgusted or afraid of him.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed, figuring you didn’t really want to hear it anyway.

“I have the time.”

Izzy was certain that you were just being polite, perhaps even afraid that if you weren’t he would hurt you in some way, but when he looked at you, you were nothing but genuine. Your eyes held the usual care and sincerity that they usually did when they gazed upon him. Your smile was still soft. Like nothing had changed, and maybe it hadn’t.

So, unable to find a reason not to, Izzy told you everything. You just made yourself so easy to talk to. He started from the very beginning because you wanted to know who he was, not just how he ended up here. 

He told you of a young boy at the docks sneaking onto a ship, of a cabin boy aboard Captain Hornigold’s ship, of a newly made captain and first mate that still had sparks in their eyes. He told you about the creation and rise of Blackbeard, of the fuckeries, the victories, and the losses. He told you about Queen Anne’s Revenge and of all the years they served her well. He told you of men growing bored and restless, of a ship christened The Revenge. Of the landed gentry come pirates. 

He told you a saga of hope and pain that ended in betrayal, desertion, mutilation, reunion, and finally in the enlightenment that had Izzy Hands climbing into a dinghy in the middle of the night. Only two days away from shore. Only one day before a storm that only his previous captain could have predicted.

Izzy told you everything in front of a crackling fire, the warm mug of tea growing cold in his hands. And you listened, like he was somebody worth listening to.

That night, you both fell asleep in the living room. The fire burning out but the blankets draped over you both keeping you warm. For the first time in a long time, neither of you fell asleep alone.

-

When you woke up the next morning to find the other side of the couch empty and the house silent, you worried. Your talk last night went very well, in your opinion. Izzy had opened up and you had listened, had reassured him when he was finished or doubted himself.

You threw off your blanket and jumped to your feet, heading out the front door. You walked around to the rocks that overlooked the beach, finding him sitting there, looking out at the sea.

You relaxed at the sight of him, reassured that he hadn't run away in the middle of the night. You joined him quietly, he didn’t look up but he seemed to welcome your company.

The two of you watched the sun rise over the horizon but you couldn’t help stealing looks at Izzy’s face, he looked so…content. There was a faint longing in his gaze, lost in his thoughts, but he looked happy, the early morning sun illuminating his face.

“Do you miss it?” you asked, staring out at the gentle water with him.

“Sometimes…” Izzy confessed on a soft exhale. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really. It’s strange being on land. The ground is always so still.”

“Yeah, it tends to be,” you joked a little, catching the way the corner of his mouth tugged upwards in the imitation of a smile.

A beat of silence passed. “I understand if you want me to leave now.” Unfortunately, he kept speaking before you could protest. “My foot is healed enough. The worst that can happen now is that I need the cane for the rest of my life, I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”

This again…you sighed.

“Izzy, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Even when you know who I am?”

“Even then,” you nodded, smiling fondly. “I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not some violent barbarian that people tell stories about. I’ve known you long enough to know you wouldn’t hurt me and that I’m rather fond of you. My home is open to you for as long as you want it to be,” you promised.

“Kindness gets people killed,” Izzy chastised quietly.

“Lucky thing I have the best swordsman in the Caribbean to protect me then, huh?” you teased, knocking your shoulder against his.

“Yeah…real lucky…” Izzy mumbled out at the ocean.

“So you’re staying?” you asked, not hiding the hope in your voice. Izzy just nodded. “Good, I’m glad,” your smile grew.

“At least for the time being,” he shrugged.

“I’ll just have to make the most of it then, won’t I?” You tried not to roll your eyes at his attempt to play coy. Izzy shook his head at you but found himself smiling despite himself.

“Now come inside and get something to eat,” you patted his shoulder.

Izzy let you help him to his feet and hand him his cane without complaint. He even let you take him by the arm and guide him back into the cottage, though he pretended that he didn’t find the whole thing comforting.

-

You walked into Izzy’s room, which you had started calling it instead of ‘the guest room’, and found him shaving in front of the mirror.

“Aw, I was likely the scruffy look,” you pouted playfully.

“It’s a fucking nightmate,” Izzy muttered as he shaved his cheeks clean. Now he could stop scratching at the stubble. You just chuckled fondly at him.

“Want me to trim your hair when you’re done?” you offered. His stubble had grown in almost enough to not be considered stubble anymore and his hair had grown as well, you figured he’d want that trimmed back down if he was so particular about his facial hair.

“I can do it myself.”

“I have no doubt. I usually do my own as well, but a little helping hand would do no harm.”

Moving on to neatening around his goatee, Izzy sighed. “Fine…just…”

“I’ll do it exactly the way you want, don’t worry,” you promised him.

“Fine.”

You sat on the bed while Izzy finished shaving and trimming his goatee until it was perfectly neat. Izzy’s stubble had grown in while he was bed bound, so this was your first time seeing him properly groomed the way he liked. Turns out, you liked it too.

He was huffy about it but allowed you to pick up the shears and comb through his hair. You worked slowly, making sure to speak to him and not take it too short. As you spoke and worked, Izzy seemed to relax, trusting you.

You cut his hair back down to the length he preferred but he still hadn’t slicked it back with pomade like he usually did, hadn’t done so since he woke up in this very bedroom. Instead, it hung loose and soft over his ears. It made him look soft, less intense. He supposed it was more suitable for his current living conditions so he tried not to dwell on it too much.

“There you go. You look lovely,” you complimented, running your fingers through his hair and letting it fall, smiling proudly at your handiwork. Izzy scoffed. “Oh just accept it,” you tutted, “you’re all neat and tidy again, all nice and handsome.”

“Christ,” Izzy complained, glaring at your reflection. “I will maim you.”

“Ah, so there is some pirate left in you. Very nice to see,” you teased. “I’ll leave you to keep grooming yourself.”

You could hear him muttering curses to himself as you left the room, giggling to yourself.

-

Izzy sat at the kitchen island, cane propped up beside him, peeling apples while you worked on making a pastry. “You really need to make a pie?” Izzy questioned, but didn’t slow his work.

“We need to use up the apples somehow or they’re just going to go bad and that would be a waste,” you reminded him. “Anyway, you’ll like it. I make a great apple pie.”

“...you’ll have a high standard to beat,” he warned.

“You’ve made me curious, Izzy,” you looked over at him but he didn’t look like he wanted to talk any further about it, so you didn’t push. “You can tell me another day.”

You continued to make the pie, the fluidity of your actions telling Izzy that you had indeed done this many times. You would give him a task here and there, and he would carry it out diligently. You could imagine him as a first mate, just as diligent on the deck as he was as your sous chef.

Izzy watched you plate up two slices of freshly baked pie. “Here, have a slice while it’s still warm,” you placed a plate in front of him. “Cream?”

“Sure,” Izzy nodded and poured some over his slice before joining him, sitting beside him. Izzy took a spoonful of pie and brought it up to his mouth before pausing and scowling at you. “Stop fucking watching me like that.”

“I want to know if you like it,” you whined.

“Then I’ll tell you,” he huffed.

“No you wouldn’t. You’d mumble ‘yeah, it’s fine’ even if it was the best thing you had ever eaten.”

Izzy fought back his smile, knowing you were right. “I promise to tell you just stop looking at me like that.”

“Fine,” you sighed heavily, dramatically. “If you insist.” No, you weren’t pouting.

But you also didn’t watch him eat, and that was enough to satisfy him. “Okay, yeah…” Izzy sighed after swallowing his second bite. “This is good,” he praised.

“Thank you,” you grinned, bright and proud, before digging into your own slice. 

Izzy just chuckled and shook his head at you, going back to enjoying his pie.

Izzy slows his chewing when a thought dawns on him. This was all so…domestic, the way you moved around each other, shared the space together. He didn’t think he’d ever be sitting in a kitchen of a cute cottage, eating a pie that was made for him by his…fuck, he needed to shake off that thought immediately. 

His what? His carer? The person who took him in when he was on death’s door, who took pity on him.

“We could go for a walk later, maybe even down to town if you feel up to it. Give that cane a proper test run,” you suggested between bites.

“Sure,” he agreed.

“But I swear, if I see a single flinch or hesitation in your steps, we are turning around and coming right back home.” You didn’t come off as a threatening person, you were rarely stern with him, but he knew you were being serious about this.

Maybe he was focusing on the wrong part of your warning but…

Home. 

You talked about it like it was both your home and his home, a home you shared. Like it could be his home. Could this be his home? Fuck.

“Sounds good,” Izzy nodded.

-

Izzy had allowed himself to grow too comfortable, he only realised that when the worries seeped back in. He had grown used to your home, your presence. He didn’t like change, never had, and a lot of things had changed lately but the two of you had developed a bit of a routine that helped calm his nerves. Now it felt like it was all changing again.

You had been acting strange, almost distant towards him. As much as you could do while sharing the same space. He would often catch you losing yourself in through but never voicing them, never letting him in on it when he asked. Something was wrong, he must have done something wrong, it was the only thing that made sense. Maybe you were building up the courage to kick him out and send him on his way, you had realised he was more trouble than he was worth.

“Izzy, can we talk about something?”

This was it, you were going to ask him to leave. He has outstayed his welcome, if he has ever truly been welcome in the first place.

“Sure.” His voice didn’t falter and he was proud of himself for that.

“You told me how you ended up here, about what happened and I was wondering…well, the crew, Blackbeard, aren’t expecting you to return, are they?”

That question threw him off. Oh, maybe you were worried about Blackbeard coming to your shores and causing trouble. “Probably not. They’re probably relieved about it as well,” Izzy answered, honest but a little bitter about it, even he could admit to that.

“And you aren’t going to try to go back?” you asked, though the question wasn’t judgmental in any way.

“Wouldn’t be welcome if I tried, I imagine. But I have contacts, I’d find another ship or something,” he didn’t want to lie to you but he also didn’t want you to keep allowing him to live in your home out of pity or guilt. He would manage, he would survive, he always did.

“…Blackbeard was talking about retiring, right?”

Izzy felt himself sigh before he heard it. “Sure. Guess he managed it too, in his own way I suppose. Didn’t think retirement was a fucking option. Still not sure it is,” he admitted.

You looked nervous again, aimlessly fixing a cushion on the couch you both sat on. “What if this could be your retirement?”

“What do you mean?” Izzy frowned.

You might have huffed and rolled your eyes at him for being dense but you could see his genuine confusion. “Somewhere peaceful and quiet for you to relax. Good weather. Somewhere comfortable by the sea. Sounds like a good retirement spot to me…”

“I…what are you saying?”

You had to fight the temptation to reach out for him. “I’m saying that maybe you deserve to have a retirement too. Some…some good days without constant worry and fear. Maybe you deserve it and have earnt it just as much as Blackbeard,” you gave into the need, reaching out and placing your hand over his, “and I’m asking if you could have that here, I’m asking if you would stay.”

“You want me to stay…for good?” His face was scrunched up like he was trying to figure out some complicated puzzle. Like he didn’t believe that you could just want him to stay here with you.

“I do,” you nodded like it was as simple as that, because it was. “I’ve lived out here for a long time. Never felt lonely despite the distance I am from town. I think I would be lonely if you left. Think I would miss you. No, I know I would.”

“I don’t need charity,” Izzy growled, pulling his hand away from yours.

It made you ache but you didn’t fight him, didn’t try to touch him again, giving him the space he needed. “I’m not doing you a favour. I just want you here, Izzy. If you want to go, I’ll support you and do whatever I can to help, of course, but I want you to stay.”

Izzy couldn’t argue with you, apparently. He didn’t snap or accuse you of lying, he paused and considered it. Why would you lie? What would you be getting out of this if you were lying?

“…why?”

There was so much you could say, so much you had yet to put into words. But one of the many things you had learnt about Izzy during your time together was that actions spoke louder than words, the care you had shown him had earnt his trust more than anything you had said.

You acted before you could talk yourself out of it.

You shifted closer to him on the couch, placing a hand against his shoulder when you lent in. The kiss you pressed to his lips was short and tender, just enough to express the way you felt.

When you pulled back, hand still on his shoulder, he was just looking at you. The lines on his face softened and lips slightly parted as he blinked at you.

“Will you stay with me, Izzy?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Izzy nodded, looking a little stunned but the answer felt right. “Yeah, yes, I will. I want to stay as well.”

You smiled adoringly, lifting your hand from his shoulder to stroke his cheek.

Izzy had woken up in your home thinking he had died out at sea but he knew there was no way that was the case because this couldn’t be his afterlife. He hadn’t done enough good to earn this, you were just giving him this out of the kindness of your heart.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve it, didn’t think he did deserve it, but he was here anyway. Maybe you were right, maybe this could be the next, maybe even the last, phase of his life. He would do whatever he could to earn it now, to earn you and this home.