#The angry little man is making progress

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #26)

It's a New Year! Hope you are enjoying 2023 so far!

Chapter #26. Natalie and Alexander spend some much needed time to rest up and relax.

Previous: Chapter #25

Next: Chapter #27

Word Count: 7,231 Read Time: Approx. 56 mins

CW: adult language, angst 

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A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #26: Birds of a Feather

[Natalie’s POV]

I kept waiting for him to suddenly sit up or open one eye and with a scowl declare “That’s enough of that!” before requesting to be set down. Surely this was too good to be true. And yet, before my very eyes, he fell asleep, wrapped around my thumb, the tiny puffs of air from his nose and mouth getting slower and more rhythmic with each exhale. His right arm, which was clutching the top of my thumb, relaxed its grip and slid a few millimeters as the limb went slack. 

His cheek was just slightly tinted with a flush of rosy pink, his lips barely parted, and as I watched a chest no bigger than the pad of my thumb rise and fall, I couldn’t help but burst into a smile. Plastered over that chest was a sparkling, ridiculous unicorn, surrounded by inky swirls of pink and blue and yellow. Poor thing. He’d suffered in that sad excuse for an outfit for far too long. My smile grew and I couldn’t help but chuckle when I remembered the look of pure loathing on his little face when I’d held it out before him for the first time. He’d flushed a bright shade of red the second he saw himself in the mirror, looking just completely adorable, a fact I’m sure he hated with every tiny fiber of his being. 

As I continued to amuse myself looking at the clunky, cheap factory stitching on the hem of the shirt which was far too large for his proportions, I noticed with a pang, a rusty reddish-brown stain in the fabric, just about the perfect size for a human fingerprint. The color was undeniable: dried blood. My heart skipped. Please let that be the result of him defending himself and breaking some skin. I could easily imagine this tiny little man, only about as tall as my outstretched hand, just stabbing the shit out of grabby vet techs with the deadly end of a scalpel, almost too big for him to lift. In any case, the once fun, stupid, little garment was now a haunting reminder of the abuse he’d endured. I’d go get him something respectable the second the opportunity presented itself. 

I could just picture his eyes lighting up when I spoiled him with new things: clothes, shoes, utensils, furniture, all perfectly sized just for him. Well, there was a limit to how far my wallet could stretch, especially right now, but I’d do everything I could. Maybe he’d break into that lovely little smile of his, eyes shimmering. Maybe he’d grip onto a finger or thumb and squeeze as tightly as he could. If I was really lucky, I might even get an earnest, heartfelt thank you. Little nightmare, you know you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you? 

I bit my lip. How lucky was I to get to be in this little man’s life? Gratitude cascaded over me like a wave, warm and all encompassing. He was unlike anyone I’d ever known. Headstrong didn’t even begin to describe him. He had every reason to be utterly terrified of the awful cards he’d been dealt in life, and yet, deal after deal, hand after hand, he refused to go down without a fight. After hearing just a snippet of what they did to him at the vet, I knew I’d never last a day in his shoes. He was the bravest person I’d ever met.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d been through, and yet he hadn’t let any of it beat him into submission. Thank you, for letting me be a part of your journey, Alexander. 

Whether I held him, marveling at the absolutely tiny signs of life of this miniature person, for hours or mere minutes was anyone’s guess. The time flew by in what felt like seconds. My room had gone from dim to dark, the lamplight outside our only illumination and yet its warm glow outlined him perfectly, casting amber rays on his hair, making it seem to ignite like fire as he softly, slowly stirred awake. 

I looked on, part of me heartbroken that the time for holding him closely and relishing in every little sleepy twitch and sigh had come to an end, while the other part delighted in watching him stir, as his warm little body wriggled back to life. His hands squeezed my thumb while he stretched his spine and turned his head to face me. His hair was a mess, he looked so adorably sleepy and disoriented that I couldn’t help but beam. 

*********** 

“You slept pretty well, huh?” Her voice surrounded me, soft, warm and undeniable. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, pushing my bangs from my face, no doubt giving myself the appearance of a rattled cockatiel, with a messy crown sticking straight up off of my head. I rolled over onto my back, opening my eyes. 

For a split second, I panicked from instinct, finding myself in a human hand. This was a place I tended to dislike being anywhere near about ninety- nine percent of the time. Columns of skin and jointed bone rose past my head and curled slightly into the infinite darkness of the room. Warmth, soft flesh and a pulse radiating like a deep, earthly vibration around me, thrummed with signs of gigantic life, as I peered high above where I lay and landed on two golden brown orbs, lit by a street light through blinds. There was nothing to be afraid of. It was only her. I was safe here.

My heart thudded in my chest for a moment when I realized this was the first time since I’d turned my back on the only home I’d ever known, that I’d awoken, not in a panic, blood pounding in my skull from primal fear or red hot anger, but sweetly, gently, with warmth all around me. I’d expected to regret my decision to let her hold me as I slept. I thought she would swoop down upon me the moment I’d regained consciousness only to pinch my cheeks between her fingers or fuss over me in some similarly condescending way. But instead, she held very still, and as my dry, sleep ridden eyes locked with hers, I saw them sparkle with delight as they flitted from my gaze to just above the crown of my head. 

My hair. 

I raised an eyebrow, “What? Are you jealous of my fashion forward hair style? Just you wait, everyone is going to be rocking this come spring!” I ran my hand through my untamed mop, as she beamed and shook her head. I shrugged my shoulders when my fingers got caught in the tangled mess instead of pulling through. I shuffled into an upright position, leaning my hands behind me, sinking my palms into her soft skin. She pulled me closer before her face. She was all I could see now, she took up my entire field of vision. 

“Good morning, sleepy head. We should get you something warm to eat, and it’s high time to take some meds while we’re at it.” Ah, of course. She was my nurse now. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but I was grateful for the suggestion of food. On one hand, I deeply resented needing any help at all. It made my flesh crawl. But at the same time, if anyone was to be charged with looking after me in this embarrassingly needy time, I’d want it to be her. She continued to speak, as her hand (and subsequently, me) began to lower to the surface of the bed. Two fingers from her free hand began approaching my upper body, “Let’s get you comfortable and I’ll come right back with the food…” 

She eased my right elbow out of the way and slid her finger beneath my arm, before I protested, “Hold on! I’ll accompany you.” 

“You should take it easy, I’m sure the shock has worn off and until I give you medicine for the pain, it’s going to start to hurt. You don’t want me carting you around when that happens!” 

I crossed my arms over my chest, undeterred, “I insist! Take me with you. I’m still owed an elaboration on this whole me being high thing. You’d hoped I’d forgotten, hadn't you?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “You had! Well, you clearly lost that bet.” 

Still, she waffled, “You sure you don’t want to relax? I don’t want to accidentally hurt you…” 

“You won’t hurt me, I’ll make sure of it. C’mon, pick me up and let’s go. Like you said, we’ve no time to waste with idling!” She did as she was told, as she gingerly plucked me up and moved me back to the center of her hand, before rising from the bed and heading for the door. 

“You ever gonna stop sounding like a tiny mafia boss? Why are you so demanding?” She flipped on the hallway light which burned my more sensitive eyes for just a moment. I tried not to flinch and held my own, even as each of her strides ricocheted through my whole body as I bounced up and down ever so slightly with every giant footfall. 

“Ah, ah! Don’t avoid the subject! I demand satisfaction! What did I do while under the influence of anesthesia that was so damn hilarious?” 

************ 

In the time it took me to cross from my bedroom to the kitchen, and set him down on a folded tea towel inside my ceramic spoon rest, placed at a safe distance from, well, anything potentially threatening to a tiny life, I’d managed to reveal to him the story of a blitzed out little man and his mistakes regarding fictional elves, impromptu vomiting sessions and teary, sweet cuddles. 

Now, he sat, incredulously, arguing with me as I chopped cilantro, “Who do you take me for, Ms. Marquez?? This entire thing sounds fabricated!” 

“Cabrón, I’m telling the truth! Goddamn, just because you don’t like it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” 

“You really expect me to believe that I, me, Alexander, was cerebrally compromised enough to genuinely believe you were Arwen Evenstar?” 

“Sweetheart, you looked up at me with the biggest nerd boy goo goo eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life! You were transcendent. I believe I recall the phrase ‘magnificent creature’ being used. ‘Divinity itself shines brightly upon you’ was thrown around… you know completely normal things friends say to each other…” 

He was tomato red. This was way too easy. Poor little man. I shouldn’t torture him too much… 

“You were very cute. You didn’t know up from down. I just wish I’d gotten it on video! Now, c’mon, make yourself useful and fashion a you-sized spoon out of this little scrap of tin foil, while I finish this up.” He was all too happy to distract himself with a task and avoid further discussion on the topic at hand. Suddenly, bending aluminum into a makeshift utensil was the most mentally gripping thing he could possibly imagine. 

After a few minutes of silence, I guess when he realized I was having mercy on him and not saying anything else, he cleared his throat and piped up, “What is it you’re making again?”

“It’s a caldo. It’s like a stew. My mom always used to make it for me when I was sick as a kid. You’ll like it; it’s warm and filling. You know, now that I think about it, you’re kinda the perfect practice taste tester for me. It takes very little to make a meal for you. I can try a bunch of different things and it won’t cost me much at all in ingredients!” 

“Har har, very funny.” He deadpanned as he waved his new little metallic creation in the air, as if to signal he was ready to eat. 

I took the pot off the stove, before resting my chin on the counter, to get more level with him, “Oh hush! I didn’t mean it as an insult. It’s a genuine perk! Now, where do you want to eat? Here or at the table or back in the bedroom?” 

“The table suits me just fine.” 

“Coming right up, then!” I winked at him before rising to standing. I’d already decided that the closest I could get to a bowl for him would be my copper, quarter teaspoon measuring cup. It looked like a tiny cooking pot fit for his size. I dipped it in the broth, making sure to fish out a few kernels of corn, bits of potato, carrot and chicken so he could have the full experience. Finally, when I was done with that, I drew my hand near him, “Ready?”

He nodded, raising his arms at the elbow. Hooking my pointer finger around the right side of his ribcage, being very careful not to apply pressure since he’d told me about the bruising, I scooped him up, towel and all into my waiting hand. He held on to the tip of my finger as we started to move to steady himself. As I turned off the kitchen light with an elbow, I looked up to see the feathery creeping of dawn through my living room windows, “Hey, actually, I’ve got a better idea… go ahead and start eating, don’t go anywhere!” Gently, I sat him down on the surface of the table and put the tiny ‘pot’ of food before him. 

“Can’t exactly run off even if I wanted to… but what’re you—?” his voice started to fade, as I was already heading down the hall to my bedroom.

I turned over my shoulder to reply, “Patience and decorum, little man!” before slipping out of sight.

“You can’t use my own line against me and do a better job with it! That’s against the rules!!!” I could barely hear his little voice as he tried his best to shout across the vast distance. I threw open my bedroom door and nabbed the things I needed, before turning on my heel and returning to the tiny man sitting patiently on my dining table. 

****** 

She returned with a coat on and a blanket slung over her shoulder. Needless to say, I was a bit baffled but could somewhat guess her intention. Still, I stayed quiet as she offered to pick me up again, simply nodding and raising my arms as was becoming seemingly customary for us. She was very careful with my injured leg, always making sure to keep it supported and extended. Frustratingly, she’d been right about the shock wearing off. A dull ache in my knee joint was beginning to blossom. I tried to ignore it as she held me against her chest, the wall of fuzzy navy blue fabric extremely soft to the touch. She gathered my meal, which I hadn’t touched while waiting for her and she turned her steps towards the hallway. But this time, instead of heading all the way to her bedroom, we stopped short, before the back door in the kitchen. 

I remember the first moment I’d laid eyes on this door. It had once been my hope for possible escape. If I hadn’t veered off-course in the pursuit of food in that fateful pantry, I’d have investigated it for any mouse holes or means of escape through the nearby vent. Now, in such a strange twist of fate that even my brilliant mind could never have anticipated, I was crossing its threshold, in the hands of the very human I’d been trying to run from. 

She brought me outside to a cramped, creaky wooden patio, the air was crisp, and I found myself instinctively huddling against the fleece of her coat, her hand cupped around all of me, as she spoke, putting down my meal on the wide, flat railing, “Come here… I’ll make sure you stay nice and warm…” fingers were gradually replaced with a fuzzy cocoon of blanket, and I found myself held aloft, utterly surrounded in warm fabric, “Better?” 

“Immensely.” 

“Good, because just look at that view…” she turned me around and placed me on the surface of the rail, and I admit, what I saw took my breath away. 

Her modest back porch gave way to a view of a rich and dense tree line, no doubt the self same ‘forest’ nestled in a golf course I’d found myself lost in before stumbling here. Between breaks in the great and ancient trunks of maple and pine, the brilliant pastel hues of a new day breaking ignited the purple and gray sky still littered with stars. Vibrant pinks and oranges, violets and streaks of blue seemed to light up the whole horizon, just for us to enjoy.

“Wow…” 

“Better food for the eyes than just my same old boring four walls, huh?” She passed me the makeshift pot of steaming stew with my handmade spoon dipped inside. I took it, and somewhat clumsily managed to settle it in my lap, before dipping the spoon in with hungry anticipation. It certainly smelled delicious. 

While I was busying myself with my meal, she had settled in, immediately to my left, leaning over the rail, her head propped up in her folded arms. The tip of her right elbow, so close I could lean my shoulder against it. When she felt the pinprick of my slight weight rest against her, she turned to face me. 

I admit, my cardiovascular system underwent a shock, taking her in, her eyes blazing an incredible gold with flecks of green I’d hardly noticed before. She smiled at me, brilliant white teeth flashing beneath rosy, full lips. Even her warm, olive skin seemed golden and luminous, as if it was, actually, the true source of those beautiful colors in the sky. My heart was in my throat. 

“What’re you looking at me like that for? Are you miserable out here? Is it too cold for you?” Her brow furrowed in genuine concern as she spoke, the realization that she may be torturing me out here dawning on her. 

“N-no! No. I mean… I’m fine. I’m nice and warm, thank you…” 

“Then what is it? You looked like you were in pain. You’re not pissed off for some weird nitpicky reason that I couldn’t possibly have anticipated beforehand are you?” 

“No, nothing like that… I… I suppose I just realized this is the first time I’ve sat outside and watched the day begin in something like twenty years. I… I was a bit embarrassed to admit that to you, that’s all. Obviously, this is no big deal to you, you likely do it all the time. You have this vista right outside after all… a-anyway…” 

“Alexander. You must not know me well at all…” 

My heart sank, had I said something wrong? “W-what?” 

“Do I come across like the kind of person that gets up before 12pm by choice, let alone wakes up at the ass crack of dawn just to stare at the sun?” 

I avoided her eyes, but soon felt a fluffy mountain of navy blue material slowly press into my entire left side, as she elbowed me playfully. 

“C’mon, Xandy, lighten up, I’m joking with ya!” 

“If it weren’t for this actually quite flavorful food you prepared just for me, I’d have to firmly remind you of my position on that horrendous nickname.” 

“Well it’s a good thing your mouth is currently too full to yell at me. Actually— fuck! That’s a great idea! I just need to feed you more often so you can’t get all pissy with me!” 

I just rolled my eyes and shook my head, lifting another spoonful of the intoxicatingly warm and delicious broth to my lips. 

We watched as the blazing orange star rose above the edge of the horizon and slowly ascended into the atmosphere. The rich, deciduous earth smelled freshly of rainwater and petrichor from the many days of thunderstorms. The twittering of birdsong rose in pitch and melody with the sun herself, as a crisp breeze teased the thinnest branches of the trees and the locks of my already disheveled hair. With delicate movements, she smoothed her own behind her ear, catching me peering up at her as she broke into a smile. I cleared my throat and stared straight ahead. 

“You finished?” She shattered my suddenly scattered train of thought with such a concise question. 

“Hm?” I hoped I sounded nonchalant. 

“The caldo? You want some more?” 

“If you’re offering, then sure. It really was quite good, thank you.” Fingers descended to pluck the bowl and spoon from my lap. 

“Approval? From this little Princess and the pea? I never thought I’d see the day!” 

My brow furrowed, “The what and the what?” I had no clue what she was referring to. 

She chuckled softly. I was grateful she spared me a greater insult by changing the subject, “I’ll be right back, okay?” And with the squeal of worn out door hinges, I was left all alone on the railing of the patio, in the exact situation I thought I’d never wanted. And yet, the fabric surrounding me was wonderfully soft, the view utterly spectacular and for a very rare moment, I felt the constant tension melt from my shoulders as I breathed a grateful sigh of relief. 

I was seated with my left leg tucked into me and I hugged my knee to my chest with my right arm and supported my weight behind me with my left. The only sound was the early morning twittering of birds and the rush and roar of cars on a nearby road. Perhaps the same one where I’d nearly been struck. I shuddered at the memory. So many moments of my journey could have ended far differently than they had. My close calls with death seemed too many to count at this point, and yet were far from uncommon for someone like me. 

I glanced around, spotting the concrete floor seemingly miles below, directly behind me. Funny, how even in the most tranquil of moments, the glaring reminder that almost anything in this human-dominated world could kill me was never far from the forefront of my mind. By the door, was a dusty, sun faded welcome mat with gaudy flowers printed on it, whose vibrant colors were now bleached to some sort of ghostly shades of blue-green and pink. That didn’t quite seem like Natalie’s style, I wondered absentmindedly if it was a gift, or hand-me-down. Over my left shoulder, I spotted a ratty looking folding chair, and a small side table, both streaked with dirt and grime from sitting out of doors. Would it kill this woman to clean a little? Perched atop the table was an herbaceous plant that looked like it’d seen better days, its leaves yellowing and withering from a likely lack of watering. I’d just turned back to face the ignited sky, noting a bird feeder swinging from an iron stake just beyond the patio’s edge on the far left corner, when a bluejay, its vibrant hue striking a compelling contrast against the peaches and purples of the sky behind it, alighted on the rail beside me. 

His plumage was brilliant, without a feather out of place. He was big. Well, at least to me, anyway. I figured he stood a bit taller than me, at my full height. He peered down with one glossy black eye at a time, his head seemingly always bobbing and moving. He was about ten to twelve inches from where I sat, but seemed to take an interest in me and hopped forward an inch or so, “Hello, there…” his white belly reflected the colors of the dawn as he came closer. As I looked him over, I couldn’t help but admire his beautiful crest of feathers, his stripe of stark black that looked like some sort of formal neckwear beneath his chin. Then, as he hopped even closer, now only five or six inches between us, something glinted in the morning sun that caught my eye. On his right claw was a small metal band, embossed with a series of letters and numbers. I clenched my jaw. You too, huh? 

“You didn’t deserve whatever they did to you…” the bird just stared back with an infinite inky void in its uncomprehending eyes, “I envy your ignorance…” I chuckled to myself. Talking with a bird, am I? I see I’ve really lost it now. 

Ah, what the hell? Why not? Maybe some small part of him understood me as we locked eyes,  “Now fly, enjoy your freedom!” I waved my arms, to no avail. I didn’t come across as much of a threat… Figures. “Go on, shoo!” The sound of a distant, blaring car horn, startled him enough to take flight. The gust of wind generated from all those feathers whipped my bangs across my eyes, as my heart fluttered in the same rhythm as the beat of his wings when he became airborne.  

His lithe, aerodynamic body twisted and turned in the air, landing gracefully on Natalie’s birdfeeder. Good, get a snack for the road. I wiped my hair from my eyes, as I watched the animal peck away at the seed and flap his wings to maintain his balance. I’m working on getting wings, myself. Maybe one day I can join you. 

With the sharp squeal of rusty hinges, Natalie pushed open the door and I traded his silent company for her gregarious one. In the blink of an eye and a flutter of feathers, he was gone. 

“Soup’s up! Chef special! Get it while it’s hot!” She entered beaming and playful, gently placing the fresh food in my lap. I craned my neck to meet her eyes as she crossed behind me and settled back against the rail, “How’d you do out here? See anything cool? Whitetail deer? Sasquatch?” 

“Oh old Squatch? Yes, he’s actually a really pleasant individual once you get to know him.” I teased as I raised the sorry excuse for a spoon to my lips, only for her to gasp so unexpectedly, it made me jump and drop my utensil into the pot below. 

“What the fuck happened? Have hell’s gates opened up? Did pigs fly? Am I dreaming? Or did Alexander, insert middle name and last name here, actually make a real, honest-to-god joke?” 

“Did… Did you just say insert middle and last name, out loud–?”

“Are you running a fever? Did the aliens replace you with a perfect clone while I was gone? Maybe I died and went to heaven!” 

“Natalie. Please. You do understand by putting on this little show you’re actively calling your own bluff, right?” 

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a scientifically proven fact that I am a man that possesses an excess of charm and an exceedingly impressive wit. The fact that you have just now discovered my propensity for humor proves one thing and one thing only: You lack the intelligence to appreciate my comedic genius!” 

She scoffed, leaning down with her head propped over her arm, “W-well, I.. That’s not–” 

“And see? You round out my argument with the perfect evidence! You can’t even formulate a half-baked comeback. You’ve got to be lighter on your feet than that to spar with me, Ms. Marquez! I rest my case and yield the remainder of my time!”

She squinted her eyes and made a face, wrinkling her nose as she glared, “You’re such a little bastard.” She then put on, quite possibly, the worst Italian accent in the history of humankind and continued,  “I cook for you… my mother’s special caldo no less, and this is how you repay me?” 

“Alright! Alright! For the sake of the caldo, and the people of Italy, I will retract my previous testimony. You’re lucky this tastes so good.” I wasn’t going to even begin to address the confusing nature of her choice of accent given that the dish and she herself were Latin, not Italian. 

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. I loved driving her up the wall. In fact, it was safe to say it had become one of my specialities. Not that it was at all that difficult to do, but still, I prided myself on the frequency with which I accomplished it. 

I finished my second helping in relative quiet, enjoying the expanse of the ever lightening sky before me and the fresh air in my lungs. She did her best to distract herself with the tree line and the flocks of birds flying in ‘V’ formations overhead, so she didn’t just stare at  me while I ate. I was grateful for that, to say the least. Once the meal was done and we’d sat in comfortable silence for a few more moments, she turned to me. 

“Alexander?” She lowered herself until her chin was balanced on the wooden rail itself, as a slender, gentle finger slid across the fabric of the blanket, to land across my chest. I met her eyes as she called for me, “You ready to go inside and get cleaned up? I bet a bath would feel pretty amazing right now….” 

“For once, you’ve managed to read my mind… Yes, sounds delightful.” I hooked an arm around her offered digit, pressing my palm into her knuckle

“Yup, this stupid human is bound to get it right every now and again…. Come here, let’s get you inside.” 

I soon found myself cradled between navy blue fabric and soft, warm fingers as I was carried back inside. 

******** 

About forty minutes after turning our backs on the rising sun, I found myself popping and stretching my aching vertebrae as I sat up from my hunched over position. I had leaned over him, splayed out on my bathroom counter, for the better part of the last half hour. At the moment, I held his tiny ankle between my thumb and forefinger while I examined my painstaking work, “What do you think, mister critical? Will this ship float or sink?”

He looked up and down the length of his injured leg, casting his discerning eye over my earnest attempt to wrap his bandages tightly in cling wrap so they wouldn’t get wet while soaking. He scowled as he looked it all over, tracing his fingers over absolutely tiny wrinkles in the plastic, “This… is…” he continued to examine, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, “...Perfectly adequate. Thank you, Ms. Marquez. Your abilities to provide medical assistance in miniature are improving significantly. Need I remind you of your clumsiness with a cotton ball and hydrogen peroxide?” 

“No, you needn’t! Thank you.”

“That’s not—“ 

“I know it’s not a real word! I know, you unrelenting little bastard, I know.” I grimaced with extra joking gusto as I busied myself cleaning up the crumpled up piles of plastic wrap that served as headstones to failed attempts, and tossing them in the trash. I loved that I could tell it physically pained him not to finish correcting me. Little nerd. “Oh and speaking of medical care, see if anything comes to you while you’re soaking in the tub. Maybe after some solid rest and a good meal those wheels will start turning again…” he opened his mouth to quip back, but a finger laid over his chest and a quicker verbal draw silenced him, “And no, that was not a personal insult to your cerebral functioning, it’s just a damn figure of speech, little man. Unlike you, I haven’t slept yet. Give me a break.” 

I watched his board- straight spine soften at this information, “Will you rest while I’m in here?” 

“No, actually, I thought I’d run a few errands while I had a moment of peace away from your annoying little ass…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence without ruining my performance with a smile, “Here, I think everything is set up for you. By the way, I brought my tablet in here; it’s voice activated. If you need to text me, I’ll have my phone on ringer, sound good?” I could tell he felt frustrated by the texting lifeline, but I didn’t exactly feel comfortable leaving someone so little alone in my house without some way to call for help, especially when he couldn't even stand up at the moment. “It’s just for an emergency, you don’t have to use it. I’m sure you’d like some downtime from me, anyway–” He nodded in sarcastic approval, I ruffled his hair with a finger, he snarled, I beamed, he broke character and smirked back in his asymmetrical way. I admit, I felt my heart flutter, “You ready?” 

He nodded again and I cast my gaze askance, giving him privacy as he pulled that adorable little shirt over his head. Keeping my eyes averted, I inched my fingers closer, “May I?” 

“You may.”

I wrapped my fingers around his little torso, his beating heart thrumming beneath my thumb as I lifted him and lowered him into the water, going very slowly so as not to hurt his leg. My fingers dipped into the steaming bath as I set him down amongst the bottle caps with shampoo and conditioner. “All good? The plastic wrap working for you?”

“Yes, thank you.” 

With that, I rose to standing, crossing to the threshold of the door, “Alright then, have a good bath, I’ll be back in a bit–” I couldn't help but spin on my heel and step back to the counter, ‘Remember, if you need me–”

“Yes, yes, I’ve got my marching orders…” I had to admit, I felt disappointed that he suddenly seemed so annoyed with me. We’d had such a great day today, I hated for it to all come crashing down so quickly. I straightened my shoulders and tried to shake it off. He probably just wanted space. With that, I turned to leave the bathroom and heard a tiny little voice trail after me, “Have a good shopping trip, Natalie.”

“Thank you, Alexander…” 

A five minute drive later and I found myself wandering aisle after aisle of tiny little clothes, furniture and household items. I was like a kid in a candy store: Everything here was so fucking adorable! I could just picture Alexander standing next to each item, it all perfectly made for hands his size. I bit my lip and taking each aisle by storm, quickly filled my basket with everything a miniature person could need: A toothbrush, a hairbrush, a full length mirror, a little wardrobe complete with teeny tiny hangers, socks, underwear, t-shirts and jeans, dress shirts, slacks, a tie, shoes, so many adorably tiny little shoes, a bed, about as big as my outstretched hand, bath towels, hand towels, wash cloths, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, a razor (a teeny tiny little razor!), and finally… the pièce de résistance… A tiny little wooden desk with gold trim and a green, leather upholstered top, complete with a matching swivel desk chair. 

Beaming with joy at all the adorably miniature items in my possession, I made my way to the check out. Delight coursed through me as I imagined him blushing in spite of himself. I wondered as I carefully laid each item on the rubber conveyor belt if he’d ever owned things like this before, if anyone had ever bothered to empower him with anything he could actually use. I was so deeply curious about his past, his childhood. Trying to picture Alexander of all people as a little kid felt… off.

He was so self serious and uptight. I couldn’t imagine him running around, wild and carefree, somehow even smaller than he already was. In my head, he was a perpetual tiny adult, regardless of age. Then again, maybe he didn’t get to have a childhood which would explain a lot about his personality. It seemed highly likely. I shuddered remembering just how terrified he’d been when he was medicated and confused. The poor little man, who was one of the bravest and most fearless people I’d ever known, had practically trembled head to toe for fear of the consequences if he didn’t fall in line. 

I really didn’t know much about the life he’d had before showing up all disheveled and defensive in my pantry. I didn’t expect I’d ever find out much more, but what little I did know seemed spine-chillingly awful. Pondering this, I recognized, with a pang, that I'd never fully understand just how hard life was for him. I could empathize, of course. But it was impossible for me to truly get it. How could I? I had the privilege of living in a world that accommodated my size. He did not. All the more reason to give him things to help counteract that. 

I watched as the clerk scanned each item. Picking up tiny pieces of furniture, wrapping them in brown paper and placing them in a plastic bag. As I tried my best not to fidget, I couldn’t help but wonder about the tiny man sitting in the center of my sink basin, right now. I pictured the little blue eyed devil running his fingers through his hair, while his mind worked a mile a minute. How was he doing now? Was he relaxing? Was he able to recall more about what’d happened? Funny, how someone so little took up so much space inside my head. 

“Ma’am? Hello?” 

I jumped, having no fucking clue what the 17-year-old kid in a maroon vest and a name tag has been apparently saying to me, “S-sorry, what?” 

“I said, would you like to join our rewards program today?” 

Ugh. I didn’t have time for this shit. I had a tiny little nightmare to surprise at home.

 I opened my mouth to decline when he continued, “You’ll get twenty percent off your purchase if you sign up now…”

Stealing a glance at the accrued total, I knew my bank account was in no position not to take the discount. Relenting with a sigh, I nodded yes. Sorry Alexander… just another few minutes… 

As the cashier asked for my contact information, I felt my phone vibrate and ding in my jacket pocket. Then again. And again. My blood froze. Was it Alexander? Was he okay? Did something happen?? I fished for my phone in a desperate scramble, probably looking to this high school kid like a fucking maniac, as I abruptly halted speaking halfway through giving him my email address. 

My heart was pounding away as I raised the screen to my eyes and saw I’d missed sixteen messages from him as more were still pouring in, almost instantaneously, one right after the other. I read the most recent:

[Come home!]

Then another came in. 

[NOW] 

Oh fuck oh fuck! He was in trouble! 

“Hello??? Ma’am?? I’m asking for your email! You just… sort of… stopped—“ 

I cut him off, “Forget it! Just ring me up…” he simply stared at me, exasperated and utterly confused, “Look, something’s come up, I’m in a hurry. Like a really big fucking hurry. Just cancel the thing and check me out!” 

I saw sweat form on his brow, and normally I would feel bad for the poor kid, but right now I had one thing on my mind. I gave him a death glare while he stammered uselessly, “W-well I can’t just…” 

“… Right fucking now!!” He jumped and seemed to be just sort of mashing buttons in a desperate attempt to cancel out of his current screen. I thrust my credit card in his face and he took it with shaking fingers, ringing me up as fast as his nerves would allow. Yet it still wasn’t nearly fast enough…

The phone was still going off in my hand, seeming to burn white hot, clenched between my clammy fingers, as panic washed through me in nauseating waves.

[Natalie. Question mark. Hello. Question mark. Question mark.]

 The talk to text wasn’t exactly perfect but the meaning behind the words was loud and clear: Every second that went by could mean life or death for him. Had he hurt himself? Did he try to get out of the sink? Didn’t he know he couldn’t bear weight on his leg yet? What if he’d broken it? What if he slipped and hit his head? What if he was bleeding? It was impossible for him to have gotten out right?? There was no way he could’ve taken a tumble from the height of the counter, right?!?!? Oh god!!! 

I tore the receipt from the cashier’s hand and practically sprinted out the automatic glass doors, nearly tripping on a dog treat dispenser on my way out. I didn’t give a shit about the judgmental stares of incoming customers as I crossed the threshold. My boots hit the pavement as I rushed to the car, my panic rising as my imagination ran wild. The second I slipped inside the driver’s seat, and threw the bag of once treasured items like an insignificant sack of potatoes in the seat beside me, with flying fingers I texted back: 

[I’m five minutes away, Alexander. Are you okay?] 

I didn’t wait for a reply and threw it in reverse, scaring a woman carrying a massive bag of cat food half to death as she tried to pass behind me. I glanced down feverishly at the phone screen, as I put the car in drive:

[OBVIOUSLY NOT]

Shit shit shit. I’d only been gone for forty minutes max. What could possibly have happened? At least he was still texting me. 

[I’m almost there. Two minutes.]

I took another turn. The sounds of the road were deafeningly, achingly, too quiet. I wanted that bright, electronic ping.

[Alexander? You there?]

Nothing. 

Then my heart dropped. But no, surely my fears were lying to me… could it be… was something after him? Did maintenance enter my apartment? Was he scared they’d hurt him? Were they harassing him right now? It seemed unlikely, they didn’t normally come without posting a notice first. After all, he’d been able to keep texting up until this point. 

Had something else gotten in that didn’t belong? But no… surely it wasn’t… my neighbor’s, cat? Elvis?? That beast had been after him, ready to kill, the day I’d unknowingly rescued the little man and brought him inside. Had the animal found a way in somehow? Did I leave a window open?? 

As I ran a red light, I realized: the back door. I could’ve left the back door cracked open when we’d come back inside this morning. Tears blurred my vision as I clipped the curb and squealed around a turn. 

Please, please, be okay, Alexander. I’m almost there. Just hold on. 

In fifteen more seconds, I skidded to a stop in the gravel alley of my apartment. In five more, my sweating, shaking hand was wrapped around the doorknob. I was terrified to see what I would find on the other side. 

In the breadth of one heartbeat I thrust open the door. Whatever’s happening to you, Alexander, just hold out for two more seconds, I’m right here. 

I desperately hoped I wasn’t too late. 

[httpsserene]

Lando smut driveroom after hia dnf🫠🫠

𝐝𝐧𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬

summary: what goes down in their driver’s room with you after a dnf. content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. hurt/comfort (in a way). sexual propositions. angry sex (implied). depressed charles. mercedes f1 team slander. sir kink. periods. face-sitting, vaginal sex, masturbation, voyeurism, blowjobs, cunnilingus, shower sex (light or implied). pairing: the grid x fem!reader (1,4,16,44,55,81) genre: drabbles.

from serene: river baby, this one’s for you xxx we all know what inspired this one lmao !!! oh, i will not be doing extended fics for any of these, they are just quick drabbles as a little writing exercise for me! (okay, okay, okay, fine i’ll finish toasty part two i promise it'll be released soon)

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𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐚𝐱 #𝟏

You’ve never found Max’s skill for talking endlessly annoying or draining. In fact, you can recall telling him that hearing him eagerly explain about racing or other topics that interest him is attractive, multiple times. However, you’re not sure if you can withstand much more of him rambling through a retelling of every single lap he raced before he had to retire, looking for any possible point where he could’ve done something different to prevent it. 

The two of you are sitting on his small couch, pressed side to side, and you’re offering small nods of agreement and hums of understanding during his pauses between words that echo in the small private room. His helmet was shoved in a random cubby, his balaclava draped on top of it but, he hasn’t made any other progress in taking off his race gear. His gloves are still covering his hands as he fiddles with the straps around his wrists, his race suit and boots still properly secured, the smell of sweat and gasoline–the scent of man alluring to your nose–the heat of his body radiating against your side instigating the warmth that floods your cheeks, and the sound of his lisp curling seductively around his speech prompting less than pure thoughts as your heart flutters and thighs press together.

Max is unaware of the sudden twist in your thoughts as he verbally attempts to calculate just exactly where he could’ve improved his outcome, his voice rumbly with an undertone of displeasure, when you cut him off.

“Let me make it better,” you offer.

The Dutch driver cocks his head at you, his expression confused and humored, “How can you make my DNF better? I do not think you can go back in time and—”

“No, Max,” you interrupt, teeth tugging at your bottom lip gently, “Let me sit on your face.”

Visibly, you see his breath catch and eyes widen. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to formulate a response, tongue flicking out to dampen his lips as he thinks—before his pupils blow large, and he swallows audibly.

“Oh,” Max starts, finally tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the floor, then moving to undo the strap of his race suit, “That would make it better.”

𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 #𝟒

He’s pacing the small length of the room angrily, ranting about his retirement loudly enough that you know it’s seeping through the thin walls. You stare at him with a slightly concerned gaze, getting slightly annoyed as his race suit tied low on his hips threatens to smack you in the face every time he turns around. 

You’re well aware that Lando is quick to anger and brood as he freely makes everyone aware of where the blame needs to be placed. But, the dark and unyielding look in his eyes leads you to believe that he’ll be a little too real to the press today and you would hate to have to deal with a simultaneously enraged and ashamed Lando once he realizes what he said. Then, you’ll have to comfort him as he overthinks his words and doom scrolls through Twitter to see what people are saying about him. You would like to sleep tonight, so you can’t have him embarrass himself today. Thankfully, Lando’s a man, a very simple man at his core. 

You stand up from the couch and pull off his hoodie that you stole. Lando continues to rage and pace, not aware of your movement. You undo the buttons of your shirt, shrugging it off to stand in your bra and jeans. Lando doesn’t notice your state of undress until he spins around to find you topless and shimmying your jeans down your hips.

“Um,” Lando stutters, eyes fixed on your tits, “Why are your clothes off?”

“Get over here and fuck your anger out,” you command, “So when you talk to the press, you don’t say the stupid shit you're telling me now.”

Lando mumbles and pouts offended as he scrambles to lose his race suit, “‘s not stupid shit.”

You roll your eyes and reach out to tug him forward strongly, humming as the length of his body knocks against yours, easily stuffing your hand down his fireproofs and kissing on the meat of his neck, “mhm–I’m sure it isn’t.”

𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 #𝟏𝟔

The room is silent as Charles blankly stares at the wall, you’re not sure if he is aware of your hand comfortingly scratching along his back. He only offered words of exhaustion and depression as he slipped quietly into his room and curled next to you as he dissociated from his retirement.

You’ve tried everything. You cooed soothingly, you complained about the result, and you even loudly expressed how terrible you think the car and Ferrari are and he didn’t say a single word. He simply continued to stare at the wall, his suit and helmet still on, visor down, and expression unreadable. Anxiously, you shifted next to him, not used to experiencing Charles this out of it. And suddenly, the idea came to you. Breaking the silence, you suggested giving him head to relieve his stress. Charles said no. Your brow furrowed perplexed at his denial; he’s never rejected a blowjob before. You took it one step further and offered to let him fuck it out of you (you were previously adamant on the “no sex in the driver’s room” rule because sound carries), and you were sure the Monegasque was about to say yes before he shook his head violently like he was forcibly removing the thought, and mumbled something along the lines of, “I don’t deserve it.” 

That is something you will not let slide. Charles doesn’t need to punish himself after he’s already out of the race, but if he won’t allow himself to indulge in you, you’ll strongly encourage him to.

“Okay, Charlie,” you whisper, “If you’re sure.”

He doesn’t zone back in until he hears your whimpers seep into the air, snapping his head to look at you. He finds you with one hand tugging at your nipple and your other hand shoved under your skirt—from the movement, he can guess that you’re two fingers deep. You hear Charles choke audibly and you can’t help but toss your head back and giggle, the laughter turning into a moan of pleasure as your fingers pass over a sensitive spot.

“I-I think–merde,” Charles cuts himself off as he stares at your show, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”

The helmet stays on.

𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬 #𝟒𝟒

You’re unsure if Lewis is even mad about his retirement. The man seems mentally deranged as he laughs gleefully about ending his race early. Understandably, he is complaining about the bottoming of the car and the hell it’s wreaking on his back–so, maybe the joy is justifiable, your man is…older.

The thing is, Lewis switches from rambling about his back pain to complaining about Mercedes and repeating how he can’t wait for a change in scenery at Ferrari. In the Mercedes motorhome. Loudly. You know he’s doing it on purpose based on the vengeful look in his eyes. He recalls almost every single moment the team dismissed his critiques and suggestions, every single moment they didn’t appear at his podiums, every single moment they thought he wouldn’t leave, every single moment they took him for granted. And, Lewis is more than welcome to express his grievances—but you would still like him to leave on good terms as Toto did promise you a custom G-Wagon (not that Lewis can’t get you one himself; you would just hate to see him ruin his connections).

Lewis also can’t help being hot. He sits comfortably splayed out on his couch, a towel tied loosely on his hips from his shower, chest bare as beads of water fall downwards and get caught in the maze of his toned abdomen, his tattoos become art pieces as you appreciate the sight fully. He continues to partake in his amusing one-man conversation as he clasps his chain around his neck—and you break.

“Let me suck your dick,” you blurt out, cheeks flushing, surprised at your own words, “...sir?”

Lewis pauses, raising an eyebrow at you from where you’re leaning on the room door. 

“Well, I don’t know why you’re still standing over there if that’s what you want. Kneel.”

The sound of your knees hitting the floor sings in the air, “Yes, sir.”

𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢, 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 #𝟖𝟏

Oscar’s already sequestered himself away in his room before you were able to intercept him on his way. The mechanics are lowly gossiping about how mad he was when he pulled himself out of the car and they watch after you in fear as you make your way to your boyfriend.

Oscar? Mad? He’d never take it out on you, there’s no reason for the mechanics to be worried. Except when you enter the room, the vibes are peculiar. Oscar’s calmly folding his race suit, boots tucked away into their proper place, standing in just his fireproofs—they compliment his body well, extremely well. He turns to look at you and there’s a smile on his face as if he hasn’t retired from a race. He opens his arms for a hug, and you hesitate for a moment before fulfilling his request. His arms wrap around you warmly and he nuzzles his face into your hair, pulling back briefly to press a kiss on your forehead before tightening his embrace. It feels more like he’s comforting you than you’re comforting him. He walks the two of you backward to his couch and pulls you down to sit on his lap. 

Somehow, Oscar brightens more, “Hi, baby,” he grins, hands moving to fiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“Uhh, I’m sorry about your race?” Your tone of voice is unsure.

“Oh,” he laughs dismissively, “It happens sometimes–it was listed in the job description.” His right hand slips underneath your shirt as he speaks, moving calmly to tug the cups of your bra down underneath your chest, squeezing lightly at the plush weight in his hand. 

You’re convinced he’s severely concussed, but it doesn’t stop you from arching towards him, your hips rolling forward unconsciously, “Ummm— ‘s there a-anything I can do to help?”

Oscar’s hand draws out of your shirt and halts the grind of your hips in a flash, he coos at you, “Aw, that’s so sweet of you to offer…let me fuck your tits—please?”

What were you going to do, tell him no?

𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 #𝟓𝟓

You’re going to slam your head on the corner of the sink and hope it knocks you out. You’ll do it if means the sounds of Carlos’ whining stop. He forcibly pulled you up on the counter of the sink and told you to stay put as he showered so he could talk it out to you.

Naively, you thought the sound of the shower running would muffle his words and you were wrong. On any other day, you would be fine to support him through his complaints but your period is due to start in a couple of days and the irritation and sore muscles are already affecting you. Originally, you were eager to watch Carlos shower—that’s a sight plenty of women and men alike would kill you for. Then, the glass fogged with steam depriving you of something to ogle. And, if there’s one thing a woman is experiencing besides pain, sensitivity, and anger before her period, it’s being horny. You rationalize your thought process as you get undressed; Carlos gets some stress relief and you get to hear moans and grunts of pleasure instead of his huffing, grumbling, and whining. 

You slide the glass door open and closed as you step in the shower, completely bare except for the necklaces, earrings, and anklet with the #55 charm he gifted you randomly, “Carlos, por favor, be quiet.”

The Spanish man’s mouth is agape as he stares at you, frozen in the middle of his motion of scrubbing soap along his arm, “¿Qué?”

You roll your eyes, tugging the soapy cloth out of his hand and setting it on the shower shelf, “There’s better things you could be doing with your mouth.”

Carlos blinks, returning to the present and sinking to his knees in the too-small shower. 

He stares up at you with his big, sweet, lust-drenched, brown eyes, his hair a mess from the spray of the shower, and his voice cracking as he speaks, “Yes, definitely.”

© httpsserene2024

[seilon]

hhdgsgddhh

[rafeandonlyrafe]

little protector

words: 800

warnings: dad!rafe, soft!rafe, pregnancy cw

“daddy, cut that out right now!” your sons voice rings out, making rafe pull away from your mouth.

“what did you say little man?” rafe raises his eyebrows at your son, who is standing at the foot of your bed, hands on his hips and an exaggerated angry expression on his face.

“do not kiss my mommy!” felix argues, crawling onto the bed to push at rafes chest while you giggle, his little hands not doing a single thing.

“but she’s my wife.” rafe says, frowning when you pull felix onto your lap and press a kiss to his cheek.

“and she’s my mommy!” he argues right back. it’s a recent development, felix showing possessiveness over you. it started at the grocery store when a tall man helped reach something off the top shelf, only for felix to kick him in the shin. its only progressed since then.

“you’re gonna have to learn to share, fe.” rafe says with a pointed look, able to move closer now that felix is happy in your arms.

“oh shush, let him enjoy being an only child for a little bit longer.” you whisper, knowing felix only has about six more months until he’s going to have to be sharing you with a new baby brother or sister as well as rafe.

“but i want to kiss you.” rafe pouts as felix ducks his head to snuggle into your chest, little hands gripping at your shirt as rafe loops an arm around your shoulder.

“as soon as he’s asleep.” you stroke your sons back, leaning your head against rafes shoulder, who sneaks a kiss to the top of your head without felix seeing.

“can’t come soon enough.” rafe says, making sure to keep his voice low for the next part. “you are so sexy when you’re pregnant.”

you roll your eyes. you’re barely showing, which is why you decided to wait to tell felix, wanting to make sure everything went well before explaining that he’s about to have a little sibling and that they’re growing in his mamas tummy.

“mommy.” felix whines when he realizes you attention isn’t solely on him.

“what is it my love?” you ask, petting over his hair.

“can i sleep with you tonight?” he asks, blinking up at you with puppy eyes that are so hard for you to say no to.

“but you’ve got your big boy bed!” you remind him. “i can read you a story before you go to sleep though.” “no.” felix complaints, thrashing his body to show his disapproval, but you know its just because he’s tired, having already gotten him ready for bed until rafe distracted you with his kisses. “wanna sleep with you mommy!” “honey, this is mama and daddys bed.” rafe says gently. he never thought his son would give him a run for his money when it comes to parenting, but he severely underestimated the toddler years.

“are you going to kiss again?” felix crinkles up his nose in an expression that is far beyond his years.

rafe sighs, nuzzling into your hair. “i think when you gave birth you transferred all of your sassiness to him.” you let out a laugh, which only upsets felix more.

“fefe, i kiss your daddy all the time. but-” you continue before he can react, “i also give you lots of kisses. i love you both very very much.” “i love you too mama.” felix leans in, puckering his lips out. you accept and press a kiss before smattering more around his face, making him giggle.

“i love you too daddy.” felix says shyly, before holding his hands out for rafe to pull him onto his lap, making you smile. felix has never had an issue with showing rafe affection, it’s just recently come up with not liking to see it between you and rafe, even getting in between the two of you when you cuddle, or pulling your hands apart.

“i love you too felix.” rafe gives your son a kiss before pulling him into a hug, and you have to turn your head to wipe away tears, your hormones already being a little crazy from the baby growing in your tummy.

“can you both read me my bedtime story?” felix asks.

“of course baby.” rafe says as you slide out of the bed, accepting felix as he jumps into your arms for you to carry him. rafe pauses as he watches you, son in your arms, baby growing in your tummy, a glowing smile gracing your face. 

if you would have told rafe that this would be his life when he was a teenager, he would have spat in your face, but then you appeared, changed his life around and gave him a home and a family he never knew he needed.

“you coming?” you ask, felix’s head buried in your shoulder as you pause in the doorway.

“yeah.” rafe nods, having to blink back tears himself. “yeah, i’m coming.”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

[bi-writes]

more childhood-bestfriend!roommate!simon x fem!reader because im a mess inside and he can fix me

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 2/?)

cw: unwanted suggestive advances (verbal only), protective!simon

he wont leave. he's been sitting at the counter all night, nursing a mug of coffee that he keeps sneaking splashes from his flask into. he's gotten progressively drunker as the hours passed, but you paid him no mind, continuing to serve other customers. you said nothing to him, just kept refilling his mug when he held it out to you and ignoring him.

"what a pretty dress, love...look at ya."

"got somewhere to be after this? wanna grab a drink?"

"ya look so nice, got the eyes of a kitten...hope ya don't bite..."

the patrons that passed by him glared and told him to shut up, but he just kept whispering to you as you went by him. you shrugged it off gracefully, keeping the smile on your face as you poured someone more coffee. words were harmless, and even though he came off as a creep, he was drunk--and drunk people were stupid people.

you smoothed out the skirt of your dress. it was short, riding up every time you reached up on a high shelf. you tried not to snap at the man every time he whistled when you did.

when you made your way to the back to pick up a few plates, one of the cooks asked if you were okay.

"fine," was how you answered. "besides, if he makes a move, i dont think he'll like it when i pour hot coffee down his pants."

but he wont leave. he has been sitting there, and the clock read two in the morning, and your shift was ending.

he wont leave. he was in your way, blocking the door to the counter. he stumbled a little on his feet, and you raised your brow.

"you gonna move? youre in my way," you said finally, sighing.

"whoa, whoa...no need to get all bent out of shape. i need another coffee."

"my shift is over. get your own damn coffee."

you moved to go around him, and he stepped to the side, blocking you again.

"whoa, whoa! all fiery all of the sudden? cmon, darling, let's go get a drink, yeah?"

"listen, i've been patient and kind all night," you laughed bitterly. "but you're starting to get on my last nerve. so why don't you sit down, pay your bill, and go home, huh?"

he didn't like that. he frowned, puffing out his chest a little, narrowing his eyes.

"hey, you got a mouth on ya, pretty lady, and i don't like it."

"oh yeah? look how much i care," you snapped. "now get out of my way, or ill make you."

the bell chimed above the door, ringing and filling the tension in the room. you sneered at the man who tried to intimidate you, clenching your jaw.

"oi," a familiar voice spoke up. "do we have a problem here?"

"yeah, mate, this fuckin' waitress thinks she can say whatever she wants to customers and still get a tip."

"i would watch your tone if i were you," you spoke lowly. "he doesn't like it when you're rude."

"listen, here--"

the man raised his hand, and suddenly a gloved hand shot out and gripped his wrist, tugging him backwards.

"oh, mate, what are y'thinkin', huh?" simon towered over him. taller, broader, the black of his outfit making him that much more intimidating and that much more frightening. his hood was up, his eyes the only visible part of him, but they were angry. hard and dry and angry, narrowed as he used one arm to yank the man backwards, putting himself between you. "you raise a hand, y'raise it to me, yeah? ohhh...what's the matter? lost your voice all of a sudden?"

"i-i...i--"

"this man givin' you a problem, luv?" simon asked. he turned his body to face him, tightening his grip on the man's wrist. the man hissed, his knees buckling a little as he grabbed a nearby table for support.

"it's fine, simon," you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. "he's just...drunk."

"i don't believe that for a second."

simon shoved him away, watching as the man's back slammed into the window behind him. he shook, terrified, covering his face with his arms.

"i think you knew exactly what you were doin'," simon accused. "y'like preying on pretty women, mate? well, unfortunately for you, i taught this one a nasty right hook, and i might just let her have some practice, would you like to practice, luv?"

"hey, i think he gets the point," you put a hand on simon's arm, soothing the tense muscle there with gentle circles. "let's go home."

"i dunno, does he get the point?"

the man nodded furiously, sinking to the ground as he kept his hands up for protection.

"right, if you get the point, why are you still fuckin' in here?!"

simon slammed the window next to him with the palm of his hand, and the man scrambled to his feet ungracefully, the bell dinging as he scurried out into the dark. you raised a brow as simon turned around, rolling out his neck as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"you happy now?" you asked, shaking your head. "who am i kidding? youre not happy unless you put the fear of god in men, huh?"

simon held the door open for you, a hand on the small of your back as he guided you outside.

"not god, luv."

you smiled. "ohhh, thats right...fear of you."

he grunted in response, and you slipped your arm around his, watching your feet as you walked.

"you're not scary, simon. sorry to tell you."

he chuckled lowly. "not to you, maybe."

"no..." you looked back up and him, and he met your eyes. he couldn't tell that it was love in your eyes. perhaps because maybe he'd never seen it before; he wouldn't know what it really looked like. "never to me, simon."

[tarrynightss]

How they are during your pregnancy + how they are with the baby

Pairings: Jake, Quaritch, Tonowari, Tsu’tey x fem!reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth (nothing graphic), fluff

Jake Sully

With Jake the pregnancy would definitely be a planned thing. He does his best to prepare himself, talking to Norm and anyone else he can find that has a good pair of brains. He wants to know exactly what to do in every situation that might occur, even reading up on it. It’s cute and you are glad that he’s doing his best to protect both you and the baby, but after you are a few months in, you almost want to rip his head off when he asks “Does your back ache? What is your pain level on a scale of 1 to 10?” yet again.

He’s constantly fussing over you, especially when you are getting close to your due date. The regular checkups from the human scientists have your Tsahík fuming, but Jake wants to make sure all ground is covered. He’ll take all the death stares if that means you and the baby are healthy.

Jake almost starts running circles like he’s in looney tunes when the birth starts. Another Na’vi has to force him to sit down by your side, and even then his tail is constantly swatting all over the place in anxiousness.

The type to say “god damn!” when he watches the baby being pushed out, making you almost snap his hand in two.

He won’t be able to take his eye off of his child when it’s born, hugging both you and them to his chest. He’ll kiss your sweaty forehead, crying as he tells you how well you did and that he’s so proud of you.

Sorry but when the baby is a few weeks old he definitely pretends to drop it because he thinks it’s funny, earning angry hisses and swats from you.

Will constantly cuddle with the baby when you aren’t holding them, rubbing his nose against their little belly. He’ll also love squishing their cheeks together and playing with their tiny ears, having them make funny faces at you.

Gags at least once when changing a diaper but doesn’t complain, just soldiers through.

Miles Quaritch

Who gave this man another kid?!? You did, and when Miles finds out he almost drops dead. He had just kinda assumed that they had snipped his ability to reproduce away just as they had snipped his ears. Boy was he wrong.

When your stomach starts growing and your urge him to touch it, he does so with much reluctance as he’s scared he might hurt the child. The tiniest hint of movement under his hand makes his ears perk up, and he’ll bend down to lay one against your belly. Na’vi hearing is incredibly good and he hears the thrumming heartbeat of your child instantly. “Our baby,” you whisper and caress over his hair. He repeats it back to you, accepting it a little bit more.

Miles continues telling Spider that you’ve just gotten fat until finally the boy has had enough, clearly seeing that you are pregnant. He gives his dad an earful about how he couldn’t even take care of him, so why the fuck is he having another. A valid point, but Miles tries to tell both himself and Spider that that was human Quaritch, not him. The boy accepts it just because you’ve always been a motherly figure to him, but he shoots Miles glares whenever he comes near.

He does his best to take care of you but this man is not exactly used to being gentle. He’ll cuddle you and rub over your stomach and back, trying to suite your aches. Where he fumbles is when you’ve been up almost all night, puking your insides out, and he dares to complain about his sore back. SORE BACK?!! He’s sleeping on the ground after that.

Strangely enough, as the months progress the pregnancy seems to be what forms you, Spider, and Miles into a true family. Both enjoy putting their hand on your stomach and feeling the baby kick, Spider letting out an excited “wooow!” at the force every time.

Miles starts sharing with Spider the few memories old Quaritch had of him as a baby. “Your head was gigantic,” Miles tell him, staring up into the sky with a grin. Spider laughs out a no, peeking over you to see his father. You lay like this often now, side by side as a family. “Humongous,” Miles doubles down, making you all cackle.

Miles is scared when you give birth, his eyes tightly closed as he holds onto your hand. He knows he doesn’t deserve to have this after all he has done, but lord, please let you and the baby be alright. He holds his breath till finally, he hears the baby’s first cry, his eyes snapping open. Both of you cry as you cradle your child close to your heart.

Suddenly becomes an expert on how to handle babies, constantly telling Spider to be careful with this or that, barely even letting him hold the baby the first few days.

Takes pictures of your child with a leaf hat on or something and finds it absolutely hilarious.

Carries the child everywhere, strapping them to his chest like a real male wife.

Tonowari

The first child born from your union is nothing short of a blessing to him. Even when your stomach is barely noticeable, he constantly touches it and it becomes a comforting feeling for the both of you.

Parades you around in front of the clan like you are the rarest jewel. He’s so, so proud of his beautiful mate, so happy that she’s carrying his child. He wants the whole world to see.

Tonowari constantly gives you massages, not even giving your feet or back the chance to start aching. He was already big on doing so before, but now you aren’t leaving the tent before the morning massages are done.

He’s so supportive and there for you that he goes as far as to hold your hair while you puke. You can scream your hormones out at him all you want and this man will just smile to himself, noting how ferocious you look like this.

Tonowari basically is the midwife during your birth, holding onto your arms as he helps you pace your breathing. When you push he puts his forehead against yours to comfort and support you.

Holds the baby up for the others to see after they’re born, the biggest smile on his face. He won’t stop bragging about his child to anyone who will listen. Every bump or blink is worth a reward in his eyes.

Takes the baby to watch over the ocean, telling them stories about all his adventures. When the baby eventually starts being able to point, he’s absolutely delighted, following to see what their chubby finger is pointing it. Whether it’s a simple barnacle or a fish, Tonowari will tell his child in great detail about whatever peaked their interest.

Tsu’tey

Finally. He has waited so long to have his own family and he’s absolutely overjoyed when he hears the news. He’ll pick you up and spin you around while laughing and cheering, making everyone around you wonder what is going on.

Tsu’tey was always protective of you, but with the pregnancy that gets 10 times worse. He’s constantly hovering over you, never letting you go out alone in the fear you’ll get hurt. You try to assure him you’ll be careful, but that’s not good enough. Too much can happen in a blink of an eye. He simply won’t allow it.

Instantly starts collecting beads for both the baby’s songcord and for their first neck piece, though the second will still have to wait a long time to be worn. He’s just too excited, already fantasizing about all he will teach his child, all the memories they will make.

He talks to the baby every night when the two of you are alone. Tsu’tey lays his head against your belly and tells your child all about his day, but also stories about what he and you have gotten up to in the past. It’s heartwarming to you to just lay back and watch him, chuckling now and then at his words.

Tsu’tey doesn’t just hold your hand during birth, he sits behind you, holding in his lap. He breaths with you as if one, stroking lovingly over your arms and legs as he encourages you to keep going.

Love is a word not strong enough to express what he feels for your child. As soon as their eyes meet, he smiles the brightest he has ever done in his life. The baby is perfect in his eyes, a beautiful mix of the both of you.

He loves sleeping with the baby cuddled up against his chest. At first he was too scared he might crush them, but after you swore you would watch him during those little moment, he gave in. It were the best naps he’s ever had, his heart beating as one with his child. Tsu’tey hadn’t thought he would ever feel this at peace.

[lavandulawrites]

Hello first timer here, May I humbly request for Yandere Nanami Kento wherein His darling locked themselves inside the closet and he is getting progressively angry and insane ,but just as he is about to break the door his darling unlocks it

Hiding In the Closet

Yandere Nanami Kento x reader

This is really short so I apologise.

I noticed when I was about to post it that I had miss read your request so I had to rewrite it＿|￣|○ I still hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist

Warnings: mention of murder and punishment

Word count: 603

Nanami’s voice was getting louder and louder. You shrunk in on yourself, holding your breath. He was starting to get furious which was a rarity. You were hiding in your closet trying to just disappear. His footsteps got louder. “Please get out [Name]” his voice irritated.

Two hours ago Nanami left the flat form some grocery shopping. You had decided that today you were going to escape the clutches of the man who claim he loved you so much that he had to keep you safe. You had a proper plan and you were determined. Your freedom was only centimetres away. You had slipped a small screwdriver he had used for fixing the lamp in the living room, in you pocket. To your surprise the overworked man didn’t notice the little tool missing. You had packed some crackers in your pockets so that you had some energy when you escaped. The last thing you wanted was to get exhausted before you knew you were out of reach for the blond man. You unscrewed the bolts keeping the window shut and exhaled. This is it.

You were just about to climb out of the window when the front door opened. You froze in your tracks and didn’t dare to turn. Maybe he didn’t notice you?

“[Name] what are you doing?” he’s deep voice sending shivers down your spine. You slammed the window shut before you could make your escape. His hazel eyes boring into yours. You turned on you heel and ran out of the room. You could hear him call for you. He was mad.

You hugged your knees as silent tears rolled down your cheeks. The small crystals wetted your socks, but you couldn’t care less. You could hear his footsteps approaching. Of course he knew where you were hiding, he just wanted you to feel a small sense of freedom.

Why couldn’t you understand that he only wanted the best for you? Why wouldn’t you let him protect you? Nanami sighed as he ran a hand through his light hair. His patience was really running thin. “Please come out” he squatted before the closest. He could see your curled up figure. “I will count to 10”.

“1”

“2”

“3”

“4”

“5”

“6”

“7”

“8”

“9”

Just as he was about to finish counting she creaked open the closet doors and crawled out like a scared animal. He’s stern features soften. He beckoned you into his strong arms. “You broke my trust. I trusted you to stay put, but no you decided to try to sneak out of a third floor flat. It’s clear that you aren’t ready for the outside world” he sighed as he cradled you. His strong hand gently stroking your back. His breath fanning over your ear. You were shivering. You knew all to well how easy it was for him to snap you in half. You had been a witness to what he did to your dear loved ones. He had told you that it was their punishment for tainting something as pure as you. “It’s a shame really. And I who had planned a nice vacation for us” he sighed.

He lowered his face so his lips were mere centimetres from your ear. “It seems that I have to cancel our vacation. It’s a shame. I haven’t had a vacation for years you know? You really had to ruin it didn’t you?” his voice velvety, almost concealing his condescending words. Someone as him didn’t deserve such an angelic voice. He lifted you up. “What punishment do you deserve hmm…? I have to give it some thought…”

[bleedingoptimism]

You Are Mine part 1

When Eddie decided to come out he thought it’d be funny to do so with a music video, so he wrote a song and presented it to the band. The boys loved it and the song was declared the first one of their next album, the third one.

And then it was time to shoot the video.

They hire their personal friend and favorite director, Argyle. Just Argyle, like Cher.

Between him and Argyle they come up with a cool script. The band is going to act in it, they just need two extras, so they hold auditions for a couple in their twenties.

On the day of the auditions, Argyle tells them the interviews are mostly for show, the band can pick whoever they feel the most comfortable with, and the boys tell Eddie he should pick since it’s his song.

The five of them sit at a long table like it’s fucking American Idol or something and just stare at the couples waiting in line through a one-side glass mirror whispering among themselves and watching amused as the couples start getting progressively nervous.

There’s a couple that immediately grabs Eddie's attention when he does a pass-over, a pretty tall dirty blonde and a brunette with big soft-looking hair. 

The guy is absolutely gorgeous, with big kind eyes, a straight cute nose, a square jaw, big shoulders, a small waist, and tan skin that seems to be covered in beauty marks.

He just strikes Eddie as someone that would make Michelangelo cry with his inability to capture his perfection.

‘Oh, that’s good. I should write that.’ He thinks.

He and the girl are talking in hush tones and Eddie watches as she fixes his hair while he jabbers nervously and then, evidently says something that makes her angry because she pokes him in the ribs. The guy giggles cutely and loudly enough to carry over to their room and then blushes furiously when heads turn toward them, hiding behind his friend. The woman in question snorts and chuckles as he chastises her.

Eddie stands up, crouches behind Argyle’s chair, and tells him, “I want that one.”

“What?” he answers, so Eddie points at the couple, “I want him.”

Argyle looks at them considering and clicks his tongue and Eddie insists, “Please Argy, please, I love him, I want him, I want that one, pleaseee”

“Eddie, we need to at least consider the rest of them. This is my job we are talking about here. Please, take it seriously” Argyle says in a calm voice and Eddie deflates,

“Dude...I’m sorry I-”

“Nah man, I’m kidding!” Argyle cuts him off, “Couple number four! Please step forward!” he yells into a mike.

The blonde and the brunette look at each other and walk in nervously as Eddie goes back to his seat at the end of the table and Argyle does a small flourishing move with his hand inviting them to introduce themselves.

“Hi! My name is Robin, and this is Steve, pleased to meet you!” The girl says smiling kindly at them. She nudges Steve on the side and he does a little finger wave at them.

Eddie has to bite his lip not to smile too much because they are really fucking cute. 

Argyle returns the wave enthusiastically, because nothing ever faces him, and looks at the list he has in his hands, “Any experience acting Robin and Steve?”

Robin says yes, something about drama club in high school and Steve just shrugs which amused Eddie to no end, and frankly makes him really curious, for all intent and purposes, Steve doesn’t seem to be interested in the job.

“How did you find out about this job?” Jeff asks them, and Gareth nods like he was just about to ask the same thing.

“A friend of ours told us about it?” Robin answers “He’s a photographer but I don't want to drop names, especially in case we embarrass ourselves,” she says jokingly and looks relieved when she gets a couple of chuckles from Argyle and the band.

“And you were interested because…?” Frank inquires.

Robin starts saying some carefully prepared speech about learning experiences but is interrupted by Steve saying, “We needed the money”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Robin suddenly turns to him completely red in the face.

“What? You told me to be myself!” Steve tells her frowning. 

“This is exactly why I always talk in interviews”

“What does that mean?” 

“You suck at this Steve! Just as much as you suck at-”

Gareth clears his throat loudly making them stop and look at him sheepishly, “So tell us, do you know the band? Are you fans?”

Eddie takes a moment to look at his bandmates and to his relief they all look as amused as he feels, especially Argyle. The couple of newbies is clearly a mess but in an endearing kind of way.

“Well…” Robin starts but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Never heard of it,” Steve says looking apologetic. 

“Wait, Really?” Robin asks him, once more ignoring the director and the band, “They are like, Mike’s favorite band, man! You never heard of Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh well,” Steve shrugs, “I mostly tune out when Mike is talking so…”

Robin snorts and is about to reply but Argyle raises his hand and they both look at him, flinching a little when they realize they had started talking among themselves again.

“Ok.” Argyle tells them clapping once, “Unfortunately for me, I love your energy my dudes, but I’m going to get serious for a second here: I need you two to be professional ok? We have a budget and a schedule and only three days to shoot and I can’t hire you and find out in the middle of the shoot that you are not okay with making out with someone-”

Robin visibly takes a step back and Steve snorts, “Yeah no, I’m not making out with my sister.”

Eddie, who was wondering what kind of relationship they had, does a little happy dance in his head at that.

“No, I meant one of the members of the band” Argyle answers amused.

Robin takes another step back and actually looks a little disgusted and Eddie tries not to find it offensive, “Me?” she asks unsure.

“No,” Frank answers and points at Steve, “Him.”

Surprisingly, they both relax at that, “Oh!” They exclaim in unison and it’s kind of creepy but again, in an endearing kind of way.

And then Steve looks at them one by one, he’s unmistakably and unashamedly checking them all out and Eddie swears his eyes linger on him the most before he smirks and says, “I’m okay with that”

Eddie immediately pushes the contract laying on the table toward Frank, who pushes it to Gareth, who pushes it to Jeff, who pushes it to Argyle and gives him a pen.

Argyle laughs loudly and shakes the sheet of paper, “Well shit, I guess you are hired.”

“We are?!”

He stands up and shakes their hands, hands them the contract and another paper, “This is the script, not that it has any dialogue but just in case you have any questions.” 

They push their heads together and read the script at the same time.

The story is about the band being on tour. Robin and Steve would play as their roadies and the video is supposed to show them in concert, traveling, working, and hanging out. The whole video hints that Eddie is sneaking out with one of them and it ends with the band plus Robin opening a curtain on the tour bus to find Eddie and Steve making out.

The song is called You Are Mine.

When they are done reading, Steve smiles and says “Cute”

And Robin asks, “So which one of you is Eddie?”

Eddie lifts his hand lazily and winks at them.

And Steve, still holding the script, lifts it enough to cover his face but Eddie can still see the tip of his ears as they turn bright red.

‘Oh, he’s gonna eat him alive.’

to be continued

part 1: is this

part 2: ♫ 

part 3: ♫

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito?

[zwhoreo]

hello! It was just recently when I found your page and Immediately loved how you write Luffy!

I wanted to know if you could write a short fic about jealous! Luffy, maybe the crew land on a island, they went to a bar and reader started get hit on by another dude, I wonder if luffy would be overprotective or wouldn’t care that much.

tysm for the support! I’m so happy you like my writing, that means a lot!! :’) I’ve had some ideas for this concept and I love how this turned out, so thanks sm for the request <3

jealous luffy - luffy x gn!reader

fluff

summary in request, luffy’s progression from uneasy cluelessness into overprotective rage

words: 1k

________________________

Luffy’s been holding your hand all day, like he always does. And he’s been roughly dragging you around across the island because he’s excited to be in a new town and make friends and find adventures. Evening comes and your hand is sweaty, you love Luffy but you want a little break, so you tell him that, as gently as you can, when you follow some of the crew into a tavern in the town square.

It’s loud and warm and Luffy wanders off to see if they have food here, so you’re left alone to sit in one of the bar stools and wait to catch the bartender’s attention so you can get a drink. Your excitement doesn’t overflow like Luffy’s does but it’s been a long, boring voyage over this particular sea and the stable ground, the unfamiliar faces, the world outside of a wooden box are so welcome, and so you’re in a particularly good mood, more outgoing than you would normally be.

So when a man comes to you, and sits by you, and begins to ask you who you are and compliment your clothes you let him, you talk back happily. Because you’ve been talking to just the same nine people for far too long. When he offers to buy you a drink you think why not? and agree with a dismissive laugh.

Luffy is bored and notices you talking to a man he’s never seen before. He isn’t jealous, not yet. He doesn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary, he doesn’t see a problem with his hand being close to yours, or the drink he offers you. In fact, Luffy’s jealous of you, because you’re getting something for free and he isn’t. He gets antsy and wants to hold your hand again, now that he’s in a bad mood. So he comes and sits cross legged on the floor, leaning against your stool, not saying anything.

You smile at him and return to your conversation. You’re aware, only vaguely, of how the man is leaning in closer towards you, how his gestures brush your arm. Luffy isn’t. But Luffy still feels agitated, like something’s not right, though he can’t place it. He plays with the cuff of your pants, staring straight ahead, brows furrowed.

You lean away as the man gets closer. You don’t feel in danger, you’re slightly amused at this man’s clear attempts to hit on you, you continue to laugh it off because Luffy’s there and you feel safe. You bring your hand up to rest your head on, to get it away from his creeping fingers, your body language is subtle but Luffy is starting to feel like something isn’t right. Something feels off in his heart, his stomach.

He’s watching the man now, from the floor beneath you, glaring as the man glances down icily at him. Luffy is stressed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The man doesn’t feel threatened, he’s too confident, emboldened and cocky he rubs it in by leaning closer and complimenting you more. He wants to make Luffy jealous.

Luffy is angry. His face is heating up. Who does this man think he is? And as Luffy gets angry you’re feeling off too, like the man is getting too close, fingers reach out and brush your hair.

“Hey,” you try to dodge, not having any fun anymore. You want out, you’re racing to think up an excuse, or try to get Luffy to do something, but you’re scared. The man is tall and strong, probably a pirate himself, you don’t know what he might do in the face of denial. You feel awful for your kindness and excitement just minutes ago, you feel a little sick. The man tries to hold your hand and you jerk away, no subtlety anymore.

And that’s when Luffy breaks. The rage inside him suddenly explodes because he may not know what it means to come onto someone, but he knows you, he knows when you’re upset. And his overprotective side takes over and he decides that this man is going to be the one to pay.

Luffy shoots up from the floor and punches the man in the face with all the force he can, yelling at him to get away from you. You gasp and scurry off the stool, trying to grab Luffy’s shoulders, but he lunges at the man again with a sharp uppercut. The man reaches for the cutlass on his belt, blood dripping from his mouth, but Luffy sees red and hits and hits.

The tavern has turned to the three of you in shock, but cheers erupt from the alcohol ridden crowd as an animalistic fight breaks the bar in half. And there’s a clear winner.

Luffy stands, soon, in a rage-filled daze, fists clenched as he looks down at the unconscious man beneath him. And in an instant you’re crushed into strong, flexed arms, lifted from the ground, hands gripping your skin as Luffy holds you tightly in a silent need to keep you for himself. Kisses pepper your face and he rubs your hands and wrists and shoulders where you had been touched before by the man Luffy can’t stand to look at again.

“He can’t have you,” Luffy says unhappily, face buried in your neck, pouting like a child.

“Luffy…” You wrap your arms around him and try to steady your breathing, soaking in his familiar smell and warmth. “I’m ok… it’s alright-”

Your lips are met with a forceful kiss before you finish speaking. “Mmm!” Luffy grumbles into your mouth, still mad, a newfound clinginess developing in his heart as he grips you protectively.

You’re so aware of all the eyes on you, but all that you need right now is the overpowering presence of Luffy all around you. You’re safe. It’s over now. You close your eyes, Luffy’s mouth still attached to yours, as Nami rushes over to drag both of you out of the tavern.

[zyafics]

MASTERLIST: RAFE CAMERON

ᯓᡣ𐭩 mood boards

✦ ethnic gfs | all east asian ༯˖. south asian ༯˖. middle eastern ༯˖. west african ༯˖. southeast asian ༯˖. filipina ༯˖. albanian ༯˖. east african ༯˖. brazilian ༯˖. mexican ༯˖. spaniard ༯˖. syrian ༯˖. afrolatina ༯˖. tongan ༯˖. wasian ༯˖.

✦ finish line | fic, blurb, #maybank!reader

✦ all american sinners | fic, blurb, #sex addict!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 imagines

✦ tlc | rafe hollering at you from the passenger side of his friend's car

ᯓᡣ𐭩 drabbles

✦ headspace | sfw + fluff

established relationship, academic weapon!reader┆when rafe comforts you regarding your upcoming exam.

✦ proofs | sfw + fluff

established relationship, academic weapon!reader┆when you need rafe's help to finish a math homework.

✦ mangos | sfw + fluff

established relationship, vietnamese!reader┆when your spice tolerance is different from your boyfriend's.

✦ white picket fence | sfw + fluff

established relationship, dad!rafe | when your baby daughter wakes rafe up, he goes to comfort her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oneshots

✦ stay the night | nsfw + fluff

fwb to lovers┆if rafe sees you as a fuck buddy, then you're going to remind him what that truly means.

✦ angry god | sfw + angst

twin flames┆when rafe discovers you're more like him than he realizes, he'll do anything to have you.

✦ dirty air | nsfw

older sister maybank!reader, fuck buddies┆when rafe wants you as a booty call, you're going to make him work for it.

✦ te amo | nsfw + fluff

mexican!reader┆after a fight with his father, rafe shows up to your door for comfort.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 full-story fics

✦ reality check | request, nsfw + fluff

bsf to lovers┆when rafe gets a buzzcut, it changes how you view your best friend.

✦ finish line | nsfw

older sister maybank!reader, racing rivals┆when your little brother has to forfeit a race against rafe, he seeks your help to replace him and win.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 series

✦ brother's rival | in progress, nsfw

brother's rival, secret romance┆when your brother is determined to steal something important from the king of kooks, rafe is going to return the favor.

( 01 ) , ( 02 )

✦ play fake | in progress, nsfw + angst

fake dating┆when rafe needs to secure a girlfriend, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

( 01 ) , ( 02 ) , ( 03 ) , ( 04 ) , ( 05 ) , ( 06 ) , ( 07 ) , ( 08 ) , ( 09 ) , ( 10 ) , ( 11 ) , ( 12 ) , ( 13 ) , ( 14 ) , ( 15 ) , ( 16 ) , ( 17 / END )

— extras ( 3.5 ) , ( 5.5 )

✦ dead man walking | oneshot (for now), nsfw + angst

mafia boss!rafe, reluctant allies┆when a shootout injury is more life-threatening than it appears, you have to save him or lose your life.

( 01 )

[miheartsedthings]

dom billy x sub reader. angry sex.

He’s had a fight with Neil and takes his anger out on you as stress relief. Full on rough missionary sex where he breaks the bed. Ofc that doesn’t stop him hehe. some after care at the end please.

Took me a minute to figure out how I wanted to do this, but it finally came through! Hope it's everything you hoped for :)

@billysbot

Use Me.

NSFW 18+ only. DomBillyX SubbyReader

Warnings: Angry sex, punishment, mean/aggressive Billy, dacryphilia, rough play, degradation/praise kink (a blend).

Billy can’t seem to ignore calls from his dad and he doesn’t know why. When his name pops up on his phone every instinct in him says to ignore it, yet theres some deeper drive pushing him to follow through. He picks up, and then hates himself for it later. That man has a talent for disguising his cruelty as parental concern and being states away from Hawkins hasn’t changed that. He’ll call every other week to ‘check in’, interrogating Billy about his progress in college or how much he’s making at the garage. What bothers him most is when his dad inquires about you. 

“That girl still putting up with you?” or “Sure you didn’t drug her?” and sometimes, “What do you two even do together? Paint each other’s toenails?” 

All of this is accompanied by laughter, playing it off as a joke until Billy shows it bothers him. At which point Neil turns reprimanding. 

“So damn emotional. Did I not teach you well enough how to be a man?” 

Be a man. 

Billy’s told you about growing up under that command and how impossible it was. Neil didn’t want his son to be a man. He didn’t want a loyal, intelligent, passionate kid. The kid he had. He wanted a pet. Someone he could direct and who would follow orders. Take a kick from time to time and never complain, never fight back, only bend further and further. It was impossible to be this without filling up with some poison. Tidal waves of anger and despair. Billy had felt all of it throughout his life and now he’s away. He’s far from Hawkins and his dad but he’s still carrying it around. His weather follows him, storm clouds erupting above his head when Neil calls. Why the fuck does he answer? 

He started the morning with one of these calls and like no other time it’s filled him with so much fury. His anger persisted through the day, making work drag on. Even his workout was intense as he strained his body, full of indignation. He came home still swelled with anger, his mind rolling over questions that were infuriatingly hard to answer. Why did it still matter what his dad thought of him? Why does he care so much when he makes jokes about you? Why does he answer? Why can’t he stop feeling like a failure no matter what he accomplishes? No matter how often you tell him you love him why can’t he stop wondering when you’re gonna leave? Why can’t he truly trust anyone? 

He comes home, sweaty, and miserable, anger seeping from his pores. He doesn’t look at you when he walks into the little apartment. 

“Hey,” you call from the kitchen where you’re leaning against the counter flipping through recipes on your phone. 

“Hey,” he mumbles and disappears into the bedroom, his gym bag on his shoulder. Instantly, the air is tense. You’ve been around Billy long enough to know when he’s close to erupting. You pad over to the bedroom, leaning against the doorjam. His face is red and tight, eyes dark as he strips from his musty gym stuff. He still won’t look at you. 

“I’m thinking about salmon for dinner but I don’t know.” 

He doesn’t respond, tossing his clothes toward the hamper but not in it. You cross the room and correct this. 

“We could order out–”

“I don’t care.” 

His tone is careless and heavy with warning as he marches naked into the bathroom. Your eyes slip down to watch his beautiful asscheeks as he goes. Then the door shuts, cutting off your view. You hear the shower turn on and plop down on the bed, hearing the old frame creak. You’re not sure what’s got him upset this time, but you’d hoped going to the gym would fix it because you’ve been missing his body all day and it’s killing you. If you were allowed to touch yourself when he wasn’t around, you would’ve played with your toys while he was working out. It would’ve been so nice to fill yourself, fucking your cunt with the dildo he’d gotten you for Christmas, imagining it was him. You catch yourself rubbing your thighs together, your lips so wet they slip against each other. 

You lay back and pull up your skirt and your hand goes to your panties for just a moment. Just one squeeze of your clit between your middle and ring fingers, making it pulse. A soft sound escapes and you snatch your hand away, pulling down your skirt. It doesn’t matter how bad you want it, rules are rules and you have to be good. You get up and cross to the mirror on the dresser. Maybe it’s not so unfortunate that he’s mad tonight. He’ll need a release for all that aggression.  

You change into a dress you know he loves on you. The one you’re not allowed to wear out because it hugs you so well, showing off your cleavage and riding up when you walk. Once dressed, you pluck a book you’ve read a dozen times from the shelf and lay on your stomach on the bed, ass facing the bathroom door. You consider taking off your panties, but he likes peeling them off himself. So you lay there, unable to see a single word on the page because all you can visualize is him diving face-first into your pussy. 

He’d eaten you for a solid hour a week before, slow and sloppy while you lay there melting into his mouth again and again. The memory sends a shiver through you. Then, you remember just the other night, you’d aced a an exam he helped you study for and your reward had been getting filled from behind while a vibrating buttplug pulsed in your ass. You came so hard it made you cry. God, you want that again. Behind you, the shower turns off, and your stomach flutters with anticipation. You stop your wiggling hips, sometimes they move on their own but right now you have to be patient.  

The bathroom door opens and you jolt, staring uncomprehendingly at the book in your hand. You hear Billy stop in the doorway, feel his eyes on you, giving you goosebumps. The silence feels like a living thing. It breathes between you and hardly leaves room for your shallow inhales. He moves, and his towel is flung across the bed beside you, flustering your nerves again. 

“What’cha doin?” 

His tone hasn’t softened a bit, and when you look back at him, you’re met with the same cold expression. If anything, his anger has set in further. His brows are a hard line above his darkened eyes, his jaw set. He looks at you, completely unamused and you’re nervous for a moment that you won’t pull this off. Then, your confidence returns, you raise your brows, your face relaxed into perfect innocence. 

“Me?” you ask, your voice kitten soft, “I thought I’d read a little before making dinner.” 

While you speak, you slowly move back onto your knees, your ass poking up for a moment before you sit up, your legs folded under you and sitting on your heels. The perfect little princess pose. Your gaze moves down his chest, eager to see the rest of his naked body, but he grabs your chin, lording over you. 

“Uh uh, eyes up here,” he says. You look up at him, and you know he can see the desire in your eyes. He shakes his head. “You don’t want this right now, angel.” 

His warning makes you salivate. 

“Of course I do.” you say with complete sincerity “Fuck it all out.” 

A thrill pulses down into his groin. He glares. 

“I’m gonna hurt you.” 

“Please.”

He scoffs. 

“Really, baby?” 

You nod, your mind full of fantazises, his cock driving into you, your eyes spilling over with tears, his strong arms forcing you into a hold while he cums on your face or in your ass or- he yanks you out of your thoughts and off the bed. 

“Fuck-so fuckin dumb, you sweet little idiot-get on your knees.” 

You obey, dropping to your knees, back in Princess Position. Finally allowed to look, your eyes are filled with his beautiful dick as he strokes it in your face. Your mouth falls open before he can ask, your tongue lulling out to eagerly flick at the drops of precum seeping from the tip. He grabs a fistful of your hair, sharply yanking you back. 

“Did I say you could taste it yet?” you shake your head. “Huh?” 

“No.” He smacks you quickly across the cheek. “No, sir.” you say, nearly panting from excitement. Your brain goes foggy as you watch him stroke himself. He lifts up his shaft, pushing your face underneath. Instinctively, you gently suck one of his balls into your mouth. 

“There,” he groans. “That’s what you get until you earn my cock.” 

You accept this, setting to work messaging his balls with your mouth, one and then the other, making him groan each time you envelope one of them. Your hands are crossed behind your back, and you know if you move them he’ll punish you, but you want so badly to get a hand around the base of his balls while you suck them. You moan at the thought, and the feeling of his nutsack on your face. 

He pulls your head back and you open your mouth just in time for him to roughly shove his dick down your throat. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pushing your head onto it with both hands. You squirm as it meets the back of your throat and he starts fucking your face harder than you were prepared for. Your throat fills with thick spit, your eyes already stinging. “You’re such a good slut, baby,” he says “Dumb. Fucking. Princess.” 

With those three words he thrusts his cock into the back of your throat three sharp times and on the last time you gag, your throat starting to hurt.

“Ohhh,” he chuckles darkly, then pulls your head back just long enough to stick his fingers down your throat, collect a gooey spread of saliva and slap it across your face, rubbing it over your lips before ramming himself back in. He helps guide your head as you take his length, the sound of his cock churning your throat mixes with his gruff moans. You can't help wiggling, finding friction grinding against your heel. You moan as you work your clit against your heel, your panties so wet they're stuck to you. 

He yanks out his dick and bends to bring his dark eyes level with yours, glaring.

“Are you fucking yourself without my permission?” 

You shake your head. You didn't think it was possible for his expression to harden any more, but it does, and his grip on your hair tightens.  

“You're picking the wrong time to disobey me.”

He commands you to move your heels out to the sides so you're no longer able to sit on them. Then, he reaches down and yanks up the front of your thong, making you yelp as your sensitive pussy is instantly in pain. 

“Hold this.” 

Your hand takes up the thong, now pulled taut up to your belly button, so tight you feel every pulse of blood to your already aching clit. He reaches down and smacks it, making you jolt and yelp again. 

“Don't you move.” 

You nod, and then he's back in your mouth. He slams himself in until your lips are flush against him and then fucks your throat. Spit dribbles from your chin and you struggle to breath as he stuffs your mouth over and over. You can't stop feeling the ach in your clit, screaming for release from the tension of your panties. Billy uses your throat like a stress reliever, unrelenting in the way he pounds into it, his head falling back in pleasure. Your eyes travel up, admiring the rolling mounds of muscle along his body. His strong, arms and chiseled shoulders, all the way up to his throat, where his Adam’s apple is on display, God, you sometimes fantasize about rubbing your clit around that perfect bone. 

Your jaw burns, and your eyes water, clouding your vision. Your mouth is just a hot, softened hole for him to play with. He looks down at you, admiring the empty look in your eye. Meanwhile, your legs are falling asleep. 

“There she is, my favorite little dummy, finally being good for me.” 

A rush of pleasure pulses harshly through your tortured cunt and tears finally spill down your cheeks from the roaming flushes of pain in your body. Billy gives you a few more merciless thrusts before pulling your head back, leaving you slack jawed and panting, drool slicked down your chin. 

“Get up,” he says, grabbing you by the arm he forces you to bend over. You know better than to let go of your panties or move your other arm from behind your back, so you land face first in the duvet while he runs a finger along your horribly tender pussy. 

“Looks like it hurts.” He says, a sadistic thrill in his voice. 

“Yes sir,” you whimper. You don't see the little smile on his face when you say that. 

“Let me help.” 

You think he's going to say you can let go, instead he smacks your ass so hard it genuinely scares you, forcing you to cry out in pain and surprise. The sting is still bright when he does it again and then a third time, drawing pained whimpers every time. You bury your face into the duvet. 

“Better, yeah?” 

You don't answer, and he's not really asking. He shoves two fingers in your pussy, a bittersweet rush of pleasure bumps against your tortured clit. He moans at the feeling of your pussy gripping his fingers. 

“So greedy for me.” 

He grabs you, tossing you on your back so roughly the bed frame creaks again. You quickly correct your hand, pulling it from behind you and placing it on your belly, where he likes it. Your eyes still teary, you're praying he releases your clit, but be doesn't. Instead, he kneels on the ground, a cruel grin taking over his features as he places his hot mouth over the cloth choking your pussy. It's so close to being pleasurable, so close to the thing you want that it actually makes you start whimpering. 

“Please,” you whine, earning a rough slap against your clit, making you cringe in pain. 

“Did I say you could speak?” 

You shake your head. 

“No, sir.” 

“I didn't think so.” He shakes his head “I'm really trying to be nice to you, baby.” 

He grabs you and repositions you on the bed, getting between your legs. Your mind fills with pleading for him, your desperation clear on your face as you impatiently watch him stroke his cock just outside your entrance. 

“Hold that leg back,” he commands and you use your free hand to obey, holding your leg behind the knee while he pushes down the other one, lining up with your cunt. Please, please. But your hopes are dashed when he pulls your panties aside just enough to push his cock in, but not enough to end your suffering. A little sob leaks out as his thick length fills you. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling closed. “Such a perfect pussy.” 

His cock fills you, adding internal pressure to the strain against your clit. His hand comes down over your throat as he picks up speed, staring you right in the eye as he drills into you harder and harder until every smack stings your ass. He fucks you like he hates you and all you can do is take it, tears streaking down your cheeks. Pained little sobs blend with moans as your body is overwhelmed with conflicting tides. Meanwhile, Billy is in pure bliss. His cock stretches your pussy just enough, filling you so much you're kind of amazed you can take all of him inside. 

He grabs the hand holding your panties and gives it a yank, forcing you to yelp in pain, a fresh crop of tears start falling and at the sight of it Billy moans again, keeping up his punishing rhythm. He pounds you into the bed, and after one particularly hard thrust you feel one of the support beams snap underneath you. For the first time all day, you see Billy smile. His hand goes to your panties again and you flinch, bracing for the pain. 

“Want these off?” 

You nod rapidly. 

“Yes, sir. Please.” 

 “So polite, what a sweet little whore you are.” 

He slips your panties off and the relief that washes over you is so immense you start to cry as he gets back to fucking you. 

“Fuck,” you whimper out, unable to help yourself. The contrast is so incredible, and your clit is so sensitive that every brush against his pelvis makes your body shiver. Billy zeros in on this and asks you to touch yourself while he fucks you, your other hand still holding back your leg. All you can handle are slow swirls on your clit, but it's enough to make the shivers roaming your body constant and heavy. 

Your eyes go unfocused as you get lost in the feeling of him fucking into you over and over. It feels so fucking perfect it makes you sob. 

“Baby,” the word dribbles out against your will and his mouth comes down over yours. He's so good to you, helping you keep quiet because he knows you can't help it. He's so thoughtful. Your breath catches as your stomach drops and you feel yourself getting close. A nervous moan purrs onto his tongue while your pussy is slowly turning to liquid gold. 

“Yeah,” he coos against your lips, “Cum on my cock, cum like a slut.” 

Your pussy walls squeeze around him while your whole body thrums from the inside out, humming like a rung bell. You can't help the tears and the babbling words falling out of your shaky lips as you ride the delicious fullness of this feeling. His hand moves to the back of your neck, still roughly fucking you until his orgasm forces him out of rhythm. 

“Fuck,” he pants “fuck, I love my perfect slut.” 

Those words and his perfect cock are enough to set you off again, your eyes rolling back as he drills you into oblivion for the second time. He pumps thick, hot cum into you, coating you inside and then keeps going, groaning loudly. He kisses your forehead, your brain bleary. Your lower body hardly feels like it exists anymore, all you can feel is a luxurious pleasure and all you can see are his gorgeous blue eyes.

Fuck. This is all you need in life. 

Finally, his hips slow to a stop and the two of you are left panting. The weight of his warm body slowly sinks onto you as he breathes onto your chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him. 

He kisses your neck. 

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft and low. You nod. 

“Are you?” 

His arms wrap around you. 

“I needed that so much, baby.” 

You push your hand into his hair, gently stroking his scalp. 

“What had you so upset, lovey?” 

He snuggles into you, still buried inside you as his body recovers. He groans. 

“Fuck it. C’mere.” 

The two of you make your way into the bathroom where he joins you in a shower. You take your time together, washing each other and taking long breaks to mingle tongues in the gathering steam. His hands are so gentle as they move across your body. So different from the way he was in bed, as a living ball of anger. You lean your head against his shoulder, trying to keep your hair dry but at the same time not caring. 

Later, in warmth and the soft leftover smell of your bodies on the sheets, he pulls you into his lap. He takes your hand into his own, his fingers running along your palm as you lay against him, hearing the rhythm of his breathing. 

“Why do I answer?” 

You’re nearly asleep when he asks this to no one, and your eyes flutter open to find the room growing dark. You can hardly see him in the fading light. Maybe that’s what he wants. In any case, he keeps his eyes down at your hands. You know instantly what he means.

“I don’t know,” you say, “There’s probably plenty of reasons.” 

You turn, touching a hand to his cheek and kissing the other one, your lips trail down to his neck where you nuzzle in, amazed, as you always are, by the warmth he collects inside himself. 

“Fuckin stupid thing to do.” He whispers. 

“It’s not stupid.” you say, softly, your fingers slipping up to play with the hair behind his ear. “It’s just more than he deserves. He’s your dad, so there’s supposed to be something to gain from answering his calls. But he’s a failure, so it’s just bullshit every time.” you yawn, “You’re not stupid, lovey. You’re just too generous.” 

He turns, finding your mouth and enveloping it into a slow, lazy kiss as you lounge on the broken bed. His tongue is soft and salty. 

“Hmm,” you hum as the kiss gives way, “I love you, too.”

xoxo~

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 2)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: I wanted to get up to the part where you finally meet Logan but it was too long 😭 and I ended up deciding to split the chapter up. In the mean time I hope this enough to tide you over. <3

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts, @blooket-scares-me, @amararosesblog, @talanyra, @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Wolverining is Hard

When you come to, your arms are tightly secured behind your back. Sitting up you try to take in your surroundings as you wiggle around trying to free yourself. The room you’re in is dark with a metal table and a singular chair in the middle and smelled strongly of disinfectant.

Just as you felt like you were making progress with your restraints, really you had just dislocated your hand, a door opens up on your right flooding your vision with a blinding light.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Came an accented voice, it sounded British. Just as your eyes had started to adjust to the light you were harshly hoisted up to your feet and dragged away into another room before being dumped unceremoniously at the feet of a pair of red and black boots

“Pookie you’re alive!” said Wade dressed in a new and improved Deadpool suit. Where did he get that? You thought to yourself. “I thought these TVA fucks ate you or something!

Helping you to your feet Wade pats you on top of the head before gesturing between your restrained hands and a guy holding what looked like a giant remote in his hands.

Rolling his eyes the guy snaps his fingers and you’re manhandled again as your restraints are roughly yanked off.

Taking in your surroundings you notice you’re in what looks to be an office with office workers and a floating platform above it. On the platform, where you all were standing, are a bunch of monitors all showing different scenes of you and your friends.

“Where are we Wade? What is this place?” You asked confused as you rubbed at your sore wrists, getting closer to him.

“You, baby girl, have just been upgraded to first disciple! Congratulations!” He said jokingly, just as he was about to say something else he was interrupted by an accented voice, the same one you had heard before.

“As you can see Mr. Wilson your friend is alive and well mostly well.” Said the man from behind Wade with the British accent, he eerily reminded you of Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Frowning, the man watched you with a disgusted expression as you flicked your hand popping your wrist back into place as you sucked in a breath in pain. You had definitely dislocated it earlier.

“Now as much as I hate to cut the reunion short it’s time for her to go back home.” He said snapping his fingers again, suddenly you're surrounded by men in body armor again, one reaches out quickly to grab you but you stumble back into Wade who pushes you behind him.

“Wait wait wait….you’re just gonna send her home? To die?” He turns to ask the man behind him. He could feel you pressed against his back, like you were trying to get under his skin. You were scared and he couldn’t blame you, you still had no idea what was going on.

“Die? What are you talking about?” You asked looking back and forth between the man and Wade until a gloved finger fell on your lips silencing you.

“Shush child Marvel Jesus is talking.”

“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing his hand away.

“You can’t send her back Paradox.”

“Oh I can and I will.” The man, Paradox, had said as one of his armed men came up to him handing him one of those electric baton stick things you had seen earlier. You immediately tensed up, as he started to approach you with it, not knowing what it would do to you on contact.

“No wait wait wait please just hang on a fucking second!” Wade shouted, it was one of rare times he got serious and it made your hair stand on end

“What now Mr. Wilson?” Mr. Paradox asked, groaning dramatically, as if all of this was just a giant waste of his time

“W-what can I do to fix it? The timeline?”

Timeline? What the fuck was happening? You thought confused as you looked back at Wade again as he stared down Mr. Paradox

“Nothing unless you can bring Wolverine back to life in the next,” he says nonchalantly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as he checks his watch “96 hours. But that’s impossible to-“

That little bit of information was enough to get the cogs in Wade’s brain turning as he hatched a play.

“Say less, I’m on it like a car bonnet!” Wade said cheerfully, you had no idea what the fuck that many but whatever it was Wade had set his mind too it and once his mind was set nothing was going to get in his way.

“Mr. Wilson-“ Mr. Paradox had started to say but before he could get another word out, Wade lunges forward and headbutts him full force, breaking his nose on contact, knocking him out as he snatched up the strange remote device Paradox had had in his hands.

Before you could even blink, Wade grabs you, scooping you up into his side, right under his armpit, as he opens up another one of those orange portal doors and jumps right through it with you.

The other side of the portal opens up midair and you crash land in the middle of a frozen forest. The ground and trees around you, covered in a powdery dusting of snow as a harsh wind blows over you causing you to shiver slightly, as you go to sit up you find yourself unable to move as a sharp pain shoots up your right arm.

It took a few moments to realize Wade had landed with you, more like on top of you it seemed, until you heard him groan from your back.

“I gotta get better at opening those things.” He groans, getting up.

“Sorry sugar lumps, we didn't really stick the landing there.” He said stretching his sore limbs as he gestured to your arm. It was bent at an awkward angle behind you, most definitely broken. Standing to your feet you grab at the injured appendage, popping it back into place with a loud snap and a yelp before it has a chance to heal wrong

“Ok Wade I’ve had enough of this Leon and Helena bullshit-“ you panted out still reeling from the pain of your arm.

“Ha! Resident Evil 6 humor!”

“Enough! Please just tell me what’s going on?!” You finally snap as you pull your cardigan around yourself in an attempt to block out the cold. Wade looks you over as if contemplating what to say next before he groans, running a gloved hand over his mask.

“Ah shit where do I even start?” He says as he sits down on a pile of rocks that had a makeshift stick x on top that looks suspiciously like a grave, you chose not to comment on it, as he begins to explain what had transpired over the last hour.

Apparently he was Marvel Jesus, you still didn’t get that part, and your timeline was dying. How? You weren’t entirely sure but Wade kept mumbling under his breath about some “Aussie fuck stealing his thunder from down under”, and that Mr. Paradox guy, who’s in charge of those TVA bastards that kidnapped you and Wade, was in charge of overseeing it but instead of letting it die out naturally over the next hundred years or so was going to speed up the process and now Wade only had 96 hours to fix it before everyone you knew and loved died.

“Which is why we’re here!” He said cheerfully pulling two shovels out of nowhere. Looking behind him to see where the shovels had intact come from you missed as he took a sip from his newly acquired ‘I Like Me’ mug through his mask before tossing it. “Grab your shovel jelly bean, we're hunting a Wolverine!” He said tossing the second shovel at your feet as he pulls the makeshift x grave marker from the pile of stones and starts to dig.

As soon as he said that you felt your stomach drop to your ass. That was a grave behind him, and it wasn’t just anyone’s… it was the Wolverine’s. You were digging up Wolverine to save your timeline?

“Holy shit.”

To say you idolized the guy was an understatement. When you were a kid you had all kinds of Wolverine comics and stickers, hell you still had a pair of Wolverine underwear to this day. Digging up his grave after all this time, after all that he went through in life just felt…wrong.

“You can cream your spinach later, right now we need to see if widdle Wolvie is really taking a dirt nap or not.” Chunks of dirt flew through the air as Wade kept digging, completely absorbed in his task.

“Wade this is-“ Not right you wanted to say. You start feeling your anxiety bubble up in your chest. “I can’t-!”

The sound of his shovel hitting something metal, adamantium, stopped you in your place. Tapping his shovel twice more to make sure he had actually hit something and that it wasn’t just his imagination, Wade looked over to you before turning back to what he had found, wiping away the dirt, he stared down at the now exposed decaying metallic skull of the Wolverine.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Wade stare at the corpse for a moment, lost in thought, before he raised his shovel over his head and bought it down on Wolverine’s skull over and over again, not stopping until he got even frustrated and snapped the wooden handle over his knee, no doubt breaking it in the process.

“Damn it! Son of a bitch! Fuck! Motherfucker! My world is fucked!”

He screamed, throwing the pieces of the shovel and swinging his arms as he punched at the air. It had been a long time since you had seen him this serious, albeit the last time you were quite literally dying, and it was honestly terrifying.

Your stomach sank even further at his words. Hugging your arms to yourself in an attempt to make yourself smaller you slowly approached Wade just as he was pulling the adamantium skeleton fully from the grave, dragging it over to a downed tree as he propped it up to sit cross legged by him.

“That was weird. I’m much calmer now.” He says with a chuckle, you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the corpse. “Look, I’m not a man of science, but you seem incredibly passed away. But it’s good to see ya.” he pats the corpse on the knee causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust as bile rises in your throat. You’d seen Wade do a lot of strange shit over the years of knowing him, but exhuming a grave of a fallen hero and having a one on one with his dead body was a whole new world for you.

“I gotta be honest, I’ve always wanted to ride with you, Logan. You and me, getting into everything. Just fucking shit up. Can you imagine the fun, the chaos, the residuals?”

You didn’t even want to know what he meant by that as you crept up next to Wade, kneeling down by his side.

“G’day, mate? There’s nothing that’ll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of metal cash.” Wade placed a finger under the corpse’s chin making its mandible move up and down as if he was talking to him, you put your arm on his to get him to stop but he just kept going as he moved to hold his masked head in his hands.

“No, no, no, no, uuuugh!” He groans dramatically as he throws his head back, thumping it on the tree trunk behind him. “He had to get all noble and die for real. God damn it! We coulda really used your help right about now Hugh.”

“Wade,” you said softly as you reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder, “we’ll figure something out, there’s got to be another way right?”

Wade’s masked face turns to look at you, deep in thought, before the sound of multiple approaching footsteps pulls him out of his head. Pulling you until you were tucked between him and the tree truck, he peeks over the tree before ducking back down just as fast, cursing under his breath.

“Wade Winston Wilson! You’re under arrest by the Time Variance Authority for too many crimes to count, come out!” Came a booming voice over the chill of the air. You and Wade look at each other for a moment as if deciding what to do.

“This is your last chance! Throw out your weapons and come out peacefully!” The voice said again as he and a bunch of other TVA agents began to surround you.

You look Wade in his eyes again and nod, knowing he’s going to have to fight to get you both out of there. Looking around himself for anything you could use to defend yourself, his eyes land on the adamantium skeleton sitting nearby and he gets a horribly morbid idea.

“I’m not gonna give you my weapons! But I promise not to use them.” He shouts back as he turns back towards you, placing a hand on your head. “Ok Nugget you know the drill.” He says so that only you can hear.

“You go right, I go left.” You nod your head towards the tree line in the background on your left.

“Good girl.” He pats you on the head one last time, tucking baby knife into your hand. “Maximum effort.” He grunted as you both stood, jumping into action. You break to the left as fast as your feet can carry you just as Wade jumps over the tree trunk pulling Wolverine's body with him.

Hearing rapid footfalls following close behind you try to pick up the pace, your lungs burning as you run, just as you reach the woods a gloved hand reaches out tangling itself in your locs before yanking you backwards. You hit the snow covered ground with an audible thud. Your head ringing and vision blurred from the impact. Just as your eyes were starting to clear, that rapid thumping noise from before came back with a vengeance.

Shaking your head to clear it you try and get back up to your feet until a black boot, steps down on your shoulder harshly. Above you stood a TVA agent, his stick pointed right at you as he glared down at you. Just as he began to lower it, you pulled baby knife from your boot, stabbing it as hard as you could through his foot.

He screams in pain as he stumbles backwards falling on his ass as he goes to pull out the knife. Scrambling back up you yank the knife from his foot before embedding it in his exposed neck. Pulling the knife back out again the fall back on your ass in shock at what you just did. You killed someone and hadn’t even hesitated. Sure you had see your fair share of people dying, thanks mostly to Wade, but never had you actually been the one doing the killing.

Before you have a chance to wallow anymore to yourself, you hear a body thud next to you and jump.

“My bad!” Wade calls as he smacks a TVA agent across the face with something that looked suspiciously like a metal femur, shattering his helmet and mostly his face on impact. “Wolverining is hard!”

“Wolverine was a hero and the only thing worth a shit to ever come out of Canada!” Shouted a voice from in front of you two, it was the same guy from before, the one who you tackled through the portal earlier, and he looked pissed. Before he had a chance to say anything else a katana goes bouncing off the ground and right through the guy’s mouth.

“Get my country’s name out of your fucking mouth.” Wade said as he walked up to the still standing body, pulling his sword out of his mouth. “And my sword, gimme that.”

Cleaning off the blade with his sleeve, Wade looks you over, checking you for injuries, something he couldn’t break himself from doing, no matter how much you told him you could heal, before pulling you to your feet.

“We gotta find us another Logan, an alive one.” He said looking around himself assessing the overall damage.

“How?” You question still trying to quiet the pounding in your head, it was starting to fade out now, only being a low murmur at the point, but it still made it hard to focus.

Pulling something from his belt, Wade holds up the remote looking device he had stolen from Mr. Paradox earlier between wiggling fingers.

“This my dear bestest pal is how.” He said opening it up and hitting a few buttons. Another orange portal opens and you stare at it in contemplation, nervousness grips your stomach as you think about what the two of you would get into on the other side of the portal. Wade goes through first holding out a hand for you from the other side. Swallowing down rising anxiety, you take up his hand following him through.

On the other side of the portal the atmosphere is much warmer, you're both in a club, a nice one at that, surrounded by other people as they mingle and converse by the bar.

“Logan I’m gonna need you to come with us!” Wade spoke over the music. Looking around the room, you wonder which of these people he was talking to, none of them really looked like a Wolverine to you.

“Who’s asking?” came a familiar voice from the bar. Turning to look to see who it was that said that, you were shocked to see a guy, about your height, with a crazy hairy torso, wearing a tight fitted black v-neck.

His face definitely screamed Wolverine to you but there was something about this man that just struck you as off.

“Look at this little Mary Lou Retton. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes, you did, comic-accurate short king.” Wade cooed to him from your side in a baby voice as he crouched down dramatically.

You frowned up as Wade as he mocked him, definitely planning to ream him out later when you, yourself, was the same height as the man he was making fun of. This Wolverine stares at you, recognition and another emotion in his eyes, that you weren’t sure of as his nostrils flared and they took in yours and Wade’s, no doubt horrific, scents. Just as you were about to tell Wade that this Wolverine would work, another orange portal opens up behind you and he dragging you inside with him.

“Cue the fucking montage, baby.”

[dontopenfairies]

“Do you need your diaper checked?”

“No, I’m okay for now.”

“What was that, honey?”

“I said no,” he says, eyes on the jigsaw puzzle strewn out before him on the dining room table. He lifts a piece and finds its place easily.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been doing this puzzle for two hours straight and you haven’t gotten up for the bathroom at all. I know that pull-up is soaked.”

“Can you get out of my hair for five seconds?” he says, irritated. “I’m making really good progress on this.” He really is, quickly snapping together four more pieces.

“Are we really going to do this today?”

“I’m not doing anything. Except for this puzzle.” He scans what he has so far and swaps around a couple of big pieces. She watches his fingers moving quickly, sliding over the loose pieces and flipping them around, and almost gets distracted. That and the cute face he makes when he’s concentrating…She snaps out of it when he glances up, an angry crease in his forehead. “You’re breaking my concentration! Don’t you have something else to do?”

“You’re being such a brat! I can’t believe you! You’re being very, very bad!”

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all, and snapping together two more pieces. “Wow! That one almost stumped me earlier! Look!” He turns around to show it to her, excited.

“Really? You were just telling me to leave and now you want me to praise you because you’re doing a good job at your puzzle? Come on, get your butt over here. I know you need a change, bad.”

He hesitates, hands on the back of his chair.

“Come on, sweetheart, come over here like a good boy and let me check your diaper. I know you want to hear me call you a good boy.”

“No! I don’t!” He’s blushing. His eyes are looking at the puzzle but his body is still turned towards hers.

“Do you need me to manhandle you?” She comes a little closer, getting ready to lift him out of the chair. She is just a little stronger than he is and she knows this is a sore spot of his.

“No!! I’m coming over.” He stands up slowly and carefully. Oh, yeah. There’s a little round wet patch on his pants on one of his thighs. And as he walks towards her she can see where his pull-up is sagging.

She takes him to the bathroom and pulls his pants down. The pull-up is completely saturated with piss. “Jesus, baby,” she says. “You should have told me sooner.”

“Why is that my job?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

“Dude, really? Did you want me to check you by force every half-hour? You’re an adult man pissing himself on purpose and I’m changing your literal diapers, and you’re this ungrateful? Hands on your head, right now.”

He obliges immediately, knowing that he’s gone too far. She yanks the pull-up down and slaps his wet ass roughly. And again. And again, until it’s completely red and raw. He’s silent during the entire ordeal but when she turns him around and eases his hands off his head he has tears on his cheeks. It can’t be all bad, though, otherwise he wouldn’t also be sporting a huge erection.

“Aw, baby,” she says, roughing his hair and standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “It didn’t hurt that bad, did it?”

“No, mommy,” he says quietly.

“Let me wipe your eyes. Then I’m going to wipe you up down here. Does that feel better? I’m going to get you a new, clean pull-up.”

“You didn’t say it yet.”

“What was that?” She looks over her shoulder, hands in the diaper drawer.

“You said if I agreed you’d call me, um…”

Ohhh. That’s right. Wouldn’t it be fun to play dumb and make him say it? “What was that? I don’t know what you’re talking about, honey. I said I’d call you something?”

He fidgets with his collar, looking down, while she stands in front of him with the fresh pull-up. “Um, yousaidyoudcallmeagoodboy,” he says very quickly, looking away.

“Ohh, that’s right, I did. But even when you followed me into the bathroom, you still talked back to me. Are you ready to be a good boy now?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Okay,” she says. “Step into this, honey.”

“Wait…can I go poop first, please? I really need to.”

“Okay, go to the toilet. I’ll wait right here.” She crosses her arms but he looks at the toilet with a weird expression, like suspicion. “What?”

“Um, that’s going to hurt. Um, sitting down…”

“Ohh, right. Yeah, it’ll hurt. Are you gonna go?”

He starts twisting his shirt between his hands very fast. “I was wondering, if, maybe, um, just this once, I could poop in the pull-up?”

“Sweetheart…Okay, fine. You can go poop in the pull-up. Help me get it on you.” He tries to hide his excitement as she slips the pull-up up his legs and makes sure it’s snuggly on his hips. “Squat over the floor.” She points a finger down and he obeys, wrapping his arms around her legs. “Now go poop in your pull-up.”

His face scrunches and she hears a crackling sound from the diaper. “Umf,” he groans.

“Are you finished?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Stand up. I want to see the damage so far.” The pull-up has a huge lump in the back and is wet from where he involuntarily pissed himself while pushing. She wraps a hand around the lump and shakes it a little. “That’s not a very big log,” she says.

“There’s definitely more,” he says. “I really need to go.”

“Can you finish standing up?”

He nods and braces himself on the counter, and then she watches as his pull-up expands to its limit, a huge, hefty log pushing against it. Holy fuck, that’s hot, she thinks to herself as he groans again.

“I’m all down now,” he says.

“Good boy,” she says, wrapping her arms around him and ruffling his hair again. “Come on back to your puzzle. I’m going to put a stack of towels down on your chair so you can keep working for a little while without worrying about leaks, because there’s no way I’m changing you again so soon. Besides, that’ll feel better than sitting on the hard chair right after a spanking.”

“What!! You expect me to sit in a—“

“At-tat-tat,” she says, shaking a finger.

“Sorry. Thank you for changing me, mommy. And thank you for letting me go number two in my pull-up.”

“Good boy. Let’s go back to the table.”

[xtreklx]

You're hurt ~ Ninja Turtles x reader

Headcanon: Bayverse Turtles x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: SFW, angst + a little fluff, mention of injury

A/N: really appreciate all of the love shown to my last headcanon post, so I thought I'd do another one! switching up the tone tho and doing a little bit of angst ~ hope you enjoy!

__________

~Leonardo~

we all know that Leo probably has the best handle on his emotions of all the turtle brothers

so when he sees your injured form, on the outside he probably looks a healthy amount of concerned 

but inside he is absolutely going beserk

like amber alert sounds going off in his brain fr

he asks Donnie what to do as they quickly tend to your injury but as they work, there is a ringing in his ears 

when you wake up from being unconscious, the first thing he does is let out a big sigh of relief, and then "how're you holding up, princess? can I do anything for you?"

and when you smile softly back at him and say "I'm okay now, love, I promise" his heart is going to shatter and then put itself back together again all at once

he is so quick to do anything and everything to alleviate your pain

while you are healing, of course he takes the main shift in caring for you

he is constantly refilling your water bottle, bringing you food or tea, changing out your bandages

he'll even sit on the chair next to your bed and read to you, just to take your mind off of any pain you may be experiencing

our guy in blue is very motherly and nurturing in that way

but lowkey, he will take any chance he gets to step out of the room because of how much it pains him to see you like this

he'll lean against the wall outside of the lab/infirmary and rub his temples, furrowing his brow ridge and holding in tears

his most precious, delicate flower, trampled by the cruel, outside world

but he won't let you see his pre-grief; you only see him with a smile on his face

it's only when you start making visible progress with your injury that he starts to feel okay again

because the physical proof that you are going to recover reassures him that he is not going to lose you any time soon

~Raphael~

omg when Big Red saw you injured... his world literally came to a halt

like record scratch type of halt

his biggest fear in the whole wide world is losing his family, and you are a part of his family now

so he is simply beside himself with fear and worry and is absolutely desperate and angry until he knows that you're going to make it

he will be snapping at whoever is tending to your wounds, if anyone tries to pull him away from you he WILL FIGHT THEM

he is very not okay and very emotional

once he gets a moment alone, he will definitely let the emotions take over and cry to himself

when you first wake up, he will say or do whatever he can to make you feel tough, because he doesn't want you feeling weak while down for the count

"damn, you really showed 'em, huh tiger? you shoulda seen the guy, he was limpin' away after the stunt you pulled."

swears up and down that he will kill whoever touched you, and even though raph is a violent guy, he's not a killer. but he 100% means what he says

however, a big part of him is going to blame himself. for not being with you, for letting you get in the way of danger, for even allowing you to be a part of a life like this to begin with.

but you can read the big guy like a book. so you give him a knowing smile and tenderly reassure him: "I wouldn't do a thing differently. I love you, and I want to be with you no matter what."

you got him fucked up, that's for sure

and while you are healing he is in no way shape or form leaving your side for a SECOND

he will fall asleep next to your infirmary bed, he will eat meals next to you, he will do whatever Donnie tells him to, but he will not be able to physically bear leaving your side

man's top quality is his loyalty, and while his fears or insecurities may get the best of him every once in a while, he's in it too deep now, and he'll do anything to be by your side

~Donatello~

as we expect, Donnie is able to keep his head on straight when he sees that you're injured

he knows that he has to have his wits about him because he's the only qualified medic of the group

but deep, deep down he is in full-on panic mode

Don keeps different groups of tabs open in his brain (like on a google chrome browser), and while one of the groups is flipping through every medical textbook he has ever read, another group is just going "Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N--"

over and over again like a computer system error

his brothers are trying to help him tend to your injuries but he is extremely strict with whatever they do and has a very hard time letting go of the reins

as he's talking to them, he looks concentrated and steady, but his voice will not stop cracking

once he has decided that you are stable and going to be okay is when he breaks down

he's definitely also a crier, and can't help but think about how he almost lost you and can't function without you

but he gets a hold of himself, continues to chronically monitor your vitals and pain levels, and then immediately gets to work on a new invention to keep you safe

when you first wake up, now that he's feeling a little more confident with your condition, he'll say something silly to cheer you up, like "well hello to my newest little experiment"

and you'll smile back at him with a joking "hi, Doctor Dee", insisting that you're fine as he asks you a bunch of analytical questions about your symptoms

after he's done playing doctor, he'll just sit next to you for a moment in silence, looking apprehensive

but you know exactly what he's thinking, so you say "you're my hero, Donatello. you know that, don't you?" 

he gets so blushy and flustered at that, but has the biggest smile on his face 

~Michelangelo~

surprisingly, when Mikey sees you hurt, he goes quiet

you would think that with our goofball in orange, his reaction would be super over-the-top and dramatic

no, mans goes dead silent

he never gave much thought to what his fears in life were before this, but he has realized that one of his biggest fears has just come true

he asks Donnie what he needs to do, and he doesn't think he has ever sounded more desperate in his life

he does his tasks immediately and with the utmost attention to detail, no protests and no questions asked

his brothers have never seen him like this before in their lives: so focused and concerned and quiet

they'll tell you about it later, as a testament to how much the guy lives and breathes for you

once Don has confirmed that you are stable and going to be okay, he lets out the biggest sigh of relief and overall goes back to his old self

when you wake up from unconsciousness, you're a little confused as to what happened, and he just goes "you got hurt on your way down from heaven, angel!"

he does everything he can to comfort you and make you smile and relieve your pain while you're recovering

he'll bring his speaker in and play you some of your favorite songs, sometime putting on elaborate performances to get you to laugh

he'll try and cuddle with you in your hospital bed and whine when Donnie protests

"awe come on, Doctor Dee! help a dude out a little!"

but he'll be successful whenever Donnie is sleeping or too engrossed in one of his other projects, and he'll lay next to you and stroke your hair

but whenever he remembers that moment when he thought he had lost you, he will go dark for a moment or two

and he will do whatever it takes to ensure that it never happens again.

[idleoblivion]

"Hey Man I Love You, But No Fucking Way" Jamil Viper x GN Reader

Synopsis: The time has finally come for you to leave, but he isn't ready to lose you. Surely you'll hear him out, right?

Word count: ~900

A/N: I usually prefer fluff but thought I'd experiment with a little angst, though I don't think it's too intense. Never written any kind of yandere stuff before so sorry if it's tame.

Warnings: angst, yandere Jamil

This day was bound to come. He knew it, you knew it, everyone did. That didn’t make it any easier for him, though. 

He knew you had started bugging Crowley harder about going home after the second overblot. And harder again after the third, then his, and so on. He wanted to meddle, but Kalim kept him busy. Plus, his faith in Crowley was so low he thought he’d have more time. Time to win you over, time to convince you that your place was with him. And he had made progress, you two had become very close despite what went down in Scarabia over the holiday. But the time for you to go had come regardless. 

He knew you had people you missed and places you still wanted to see. He knew that at the end of the day, no matter how much he’d grown to like your presence, you were not meant to be in Twisted Wonderland. 

But he still held onto that naive hope he had that you would hear him out tonight. Perhaps too tightly.

“You know how much you mean to me, don’t you?”

“I do.” You answer almost emotionlessly.

“Then… then please-” “Don’t ask me what you’re about to ask me. Don’t do that.”

He should’ve stopped there, but he couldn’t. If there was any chance of you staying with him, he had to fight for it. So he kept going.

“Please… you don’t know what my life was like before you. Please don’t leave me like this.”

You don’t say anything back. He could already feel himself unraveling, but tried to hold it together the best he could. 

“You’re the only person I can be myself around. You’re the only person who I can show what I’m actually capable of, the only-” “Jamil, you need to stop this. Now.”

“I love you.” He admits with desperation. “I love you, please, you can’t leave me like this. I’ll never…” he trails off, holding back tears.

“I love you too, Jamil…” You sigh deeply.

“Just not enough to stay?” He snaps without thinking. The look on your face immediately tells him that was the wrong thing to say. “How fucking dare you? You think you’re the only person I’m allowed to care about? I have people that I miss, Jamil. That I’ve been missing. I had a life before this school, sorry that hurts your feelings so badly.” He hadn’t expected you to get so angry with him. 

“I didn’t mean-” “I had a life. A life without magic and overblots. Where I didn’t spend every waking moment waiting for something else bad to happen. Where people didn’t want to fight me just for existing, and I wasn’t almost constantly in some kind of trouble or danger.” You’re crying now too, and you turn your back to him as you continue. “I can’t do it. I can’t stay. There’s nothing good for me here.” “What…what can I do? There’s has to be something I can do-” “No, there isn’t. I’m leaving tomorrow and that’s that. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

“I…I told you, I love you!” “And I told you I love you, but I can’t do this for you!” You wipe your face as you turn to face him again. “You think I’m happy about leaving you? Of course I’m not! But I’m not going to suffer here for your sake. I have to do this, for me. Why can’t you understand that?!”

And in that moment, he finally did understand. You didn’t want to hurt him. You weren’t trying to, you just needed to look out for yourself. He couldn’t blame you for that. You said you loved him, and he believed you. He watches you sniffle in front of him and put your face in your hands. He feels remorse for how this world has treated you, and guilt for not getting what you really meant at first. Yes, he understands perfectly. 

It was the rest of the world that was the problem. You could be happy in Twisted Wonderland, you just didn’t know it. With Crowley and overblots and other stress always wearing you down, of course you didn’t think you could stay. If you were constantly hurting, how could he expect you to?

But, why hadn’t you just said that from the start? If you knew how much you meant to him, didn’t you also know just how far he’d go for you? The mountains he would make move? The people he’d dispose of? Wouldn’t you do the same for him?

Of course, you would never have to do the same for him. He would do everything, take care of everything. Nothing would keep you two from each other. All you had to do was be with him and be happy. He could make that happen, he was sure of it.

He decides that those kinds of plans don’t matter right now, though. What matters most is that you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life, and he isn’t going to let you.

“Look at me.” “Jamil, I’m done with this. I-”

“I get that, okay? Just…please, look at me one more time.” He was pleading, and his voice sounded so terribly dejected. You sigh again. You lift your head up from your hands and meet his eyes.

“I told you, I’m sorry. I really am. I-” “Snake Whisper. Follow me. You’re not going through that mirror.”

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 6)

cregan x reader

A/N: feel free to let me know if this is a shit chapter because there were far too many people in my vicinity when i wrote it and focusing is already hard enough

series masterlist

word count: 1,500 words

Thunderstorms. Fuck. It’s hardly welcoming that, as you enter the North, in the last weeks of your journey, it would be pouring so hard that the men on horseback can’t see through the rain. The travels all have to come to a rest, annoyingly prolonging your time spent on the road.

There’s a knock on the door before it swings open to reveal Cregan, looking very damp. But still, a goofy grin graces his face.

Before anyone else can say anything, Safia speaks. “Oh. my lord! You must come in to get away from the cold rain.” She insists and he gives her a nod as he directs the grin at her.

Cregan knows you likely wouldn’t grant him entrance so he takes your handmaiden’s words at face value and steps into the carriage. “Thank you, ladies.” He says and both of your handmaidens blush. Since they sit together, the only free space is by your side and he seems to have no qualms with making himself comfortable. “I do hope lightning doesn’t frighten you, princess.” He says with a light teasing tone.

“You smell like a wet dog.” You say firmly and glare at him.

“I suppose that I would. Perhaps I need to dry off?” He says almost mischievously and then shakes his head side to side, flinging water droplets from his hair. Safia and Rose squeal and giggle at his actions. You just groan.

“Ugh! Cregan, stop that.” You say in a frustrated tone.

“Oh, are we on a first name basis now, y/n?” You want to sigh at how nice your name sounds when he says it, dripping from his tongue like nectar. It makes you angry.

“I did not mean to say it.” 

“I think we ought to call each other by our first names. We are to be man and wife very soon.” He says with a smile and you take in the sight of him, his damp curls, his goofy grin, but you quickly snap yourself out of it.

Man and wife. What a plague.

“Of course… Cregan.” You say through gritted teeth and though you don’t sound like you’re talking to a lover, he seems more than pleased with the progress.

~~~  

You do have to admit that the North is beautiful. You’ve seen winter. You’ve seen snow, but never like this. You want to press your face against the window like a silly child. It’s all you’ve wanted to do since you entered the area a few days ago, but you can’t. Because it is time. Winterfell must be just around the corner because the procession stops. There is a  want to make a big show of you and Cregan as a united front, side by side on horseback as your dragon flies overhead. So that must be what it is time for, you think as the carriage door is opened for you. 

“My dearest betrothed.” Lord Stark says as he holds out a hand for you. You feel the cold air nip at your cheeks as you accept it and step out of the carriage. You shiver a little bit. “You are cold.” He says as he removes one of his own furs.

“I am fine, my lord.” You say but he drapes it around your shoulders anyhow.

“I thought we agreed that you would call me by my name in non-formal settings.” He says a bit teasingly.

“We did.” You confirm and he chuckles when you don’t address him further.

You hold his arm as he leads you to the front of the procession. “Your horse.” He says as you approach a silver mare.

What a coincidence, a silver horse for a Targaryen.

You like the look of the beast anyhow. Even if you never had much need for horses before, you still are a skilled rider. By the time Cregan is motioning for a mounting block to be brought over, you have already helped yourself into the saddle with the stirrup. He looks almost surprised.

“If one can mount a dragon without aid, then they can do the same with a horse.” You say to him.

“Of course.” He replies with a little smile before mounting his own horse next to you. You wonder if you look like a true Northern lady, riding next to Cregan Stark with furs draped over shoulders. You assume the dragon flying overhead ruins that image. People cheer as you make your way into their city and stare in awe at the Hellion, Sȳndror. You assume that a majority of them have never seen a dragon.

They are lucky to lay their eyes upon him.

When you ride through the gates, into the courtyard, a small greeting party waits for you. The maesters, the advisers, they all express how delighted they are to meet you. What surprises you the most is the girl you are introduced to.

“My sister.” Cregan says.

Sister? He doesn’t have a sister.

“Your sister…” You repeat as you nod your head at the woman who seems to be around your age.

“Sara Snow.” He finishes and you try not to let your surprise show. Nobody expects to be formally greeted by a bastard. Cregan treats her like she’s trueborn.

You wonder what prompted him to allow her to be introduced this way. Perhaps he always treats her like an equal. Perhaps you like it.

“It is a pleasure to meet my future good sister.” You say sweetly because she looks a tad bit frightened.

“It is my pleasure entirely, princess.” She says back with a smile.

“I am tired from my travels.” You say to nobody in particular. “I would be seen to my chambers.” You speak as if it’s a preference but Lord Stark knows it isn’t a simple request.

“Would you like to eat first?” He asks tenderly.

“My food can be brought to me.” 

“Of course. I have some things to tend to first but I shall check on how you’re settling in later.” You allow him to press a kiss to your hand before you are led away, through the castle.

“Girls, go and figure out your accommodations. I will be alright without you for a moment.” You say to Safia and Rose and they scurry off as you enter your chambers with Ser, Robert where there’s servants bringing things into the grand room.

“How is it still fucking freezing? We’re inside.” You murmur and Robert laughs. “Boy, light a fire.” You say to one of the servants who puts down the chest he was holding and immediately gets started on the fire.

Even after the fire is burning in the hearth and you’ve worked to set things up in your space, with the help of your handmaidens once they returned, you’re still cold.

“Rose, please run a bath and then you both may leave me. I want some time to myself.” You say quietly as you look out the window, contemplating your new home. You barely notice when they do leave but you know you should undress soon, before the water grows cold. 

You’re just about to when there’s a knock at the door. “Enter.” You call out.

Cregan walks in. “Is the room to your liking?” He asks gently. You’ve never known such a formidable warrior to look so nervous. Though, he hides it well.

“It’s a fine room.” Is all you say.

“It’s very close to my chambers. One of your chambers’ doors connects to one of mine as well.” You’re not sure how he expects you to react to this information. “But it shan’t be used without your permission.” He adds.

“Hmm…” You hum in response to show you heard him. “I was just going to have a bath.” You say.

He blushes at that, actually blushes. “Yes, it shall take you some time to get used to the cold so i’d imagine that would help.”

He stands there for a moment too long so you shed your cloak. He clearly didn’t get the hint that the conversation was over. You begin to untie the back of your dress as well. Poor Lord Stark is clearly stunned.

“You’re undressing.” He says dumbly.

“The water is getting cold.” The water is still steaming and would burn a normal person.

As you continue to untie the gown, his eyes follow the curve of your neck, to your shoulder, and then for a moment, to the swell of your breasts before quickly flicking back to yours. You’ve got the man flustered like a virgin now.

“Of course, my apologies. I’ll leave you to your bath.” He says quickly before leaving the room as swiftly as he can.

You giggle to yourself as you drop the gown, baring yourself completely before you step into the tub, enjoying the burning warmth. You know Cregan Stark is a proper gentleman but you also catch yourself wondering how long he would’ve stayed if you didn’t open your mouth, how many garments he would have let you remove.

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