#they were supposed to have babies and keep the house alive

[thisonetimeinmeridian]

Honestly? Still kinda ticked Gendrya didn't end up together and that all the surviving Stark children were BY THEMSELVES at the end of the series even the whole point of their story was their love for their family and wanting to find their way back to eachother

[naamahdarling]

Augh

[piastappies]

would you maybe write an smau (oscar x norris or leclerc!reader) where the reader is just super clumsy and everyone makes fun of that?

��ᡣ𐭩 SUCH A KLUTZ ! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary. in which reader can’t walk straight to save her life and formula fans (as well as some of the drivers) find it extremely amusing, while her boyfriend is the greenest flag of all time.

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 89 623 others.

yourusername rumour has it that the best couple on grid is enjoying the summer break and the rumors are TRUE! though it is also said that the girl in third slide fell off the scooter and got a concussion so her boyfriend took her phone away for three days — this may or may not be true!

view all comments!

user1 oscar is so whipped the guy is the first like whenever she posts something 😭😭

user2 i know ehic isnt a thing in monaco unfortunately but my other european girlies please remember to get yourself an ehic card if you travel across europe it can save you a lot of nerves if you injury yourself on vacay 😭😭😭

priniya european girlies always remember to have a valid european health insurance card! <3

oscarpiastri she might say its not true but it is 👎👎 the girl almost gave me a heart attack

landonorris yourusername someone should lock you up because at this rate youre gonna hurt yourself by breathing

yourusername im having a brat summer ☹️

arthur_leclerc dont think its how it works lutin

francisca.cgomes rumour has it that she didn’t take her girlfriend with her to her trip

lilymhe rumour has it that she broke her other girlfriend’s heart

yourusername NOOOO IM SORRY 😭😭😭 LET ME MAKE IT UP WHEN THE BREAK ENDS

marverstappen1 girl how do you even function with that clumsy brain of yours?

yourusername kellypiquet please tell p that max is making fun of me because i got hurt

kellypiquet she’s making you a card rn

maxverstappen1 our house turned into a glitterlandia because of that card

yourusername I LOVE HER SO MUCH

user3 i honestly cant wait for the pyn reunion in zandvoort 🥹🥹🥹

yourusername same shes my true one 👊👊

charles_leclerc oscarpiastri take your aussie hands off my baby sister or ill crash into you in zandvoort 😁

charles_leclerc for legal purpose this may or may not be a joke

yourusername crash into him and i’ll do something worse than have his hands on me and make you watch

francisca.cgomes

liked by pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 432 621 others.

francisca.cgomes a girls night gone wrong…

— tagged alexandrasaintmleux, yourusername

view all comments!

user4 i bet my LIFE that yn had to go to the er 😭😭😭

pierregasly THIS is what you meant by a surprise??????

francisca.cgomes surprise . . . 😦

alexandrasaintmleux it was fun while it lasted . . .

user5 WHY DOES THE COMMENTS SEEM LIKE YN DIED WHERE IS HER COMMENT

user6 yn rn 💀🪦🪦

user7 you are not funny! hope that helps ❤️

charles_leclerc girl where is my sister 😭😭😭😭

yourusername WHY ARE YALL ACTING LIKE I DIED?????

user8 SHES ALIVE YOU GUYS

oscarpiastri kika you were supposed to bring her back in one piece?

francisca.cgomes sorry it was not my fault

francisca.cgomes literally not my fault this time a guy bumped into her shoulder and she fell 😭😭😭

yourusername i sprained my ankle :(

alexandrasaintmleux we still love you 🫶

user9 ngl i would give my leg to be a part of this friendship

user10 same

landonorris petition to keep yourusername locked in a cage

user11 😧😧😧

yourusername you gotta catch me first 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

pierregasly i second this

lilymhe i third

alexandrasaintmleux ily yn but i fourth ☹️

twitter !

user13 WHEN ITS GONNA BE MY TURN???

user14 i need an oscar in my life but idk if i wanna be yn 😭

user15 you r so real for that oomf

user16 ngl i wish i could be oscar to be with yn

user17 god just knew that if she made yn flawless she would be too much for mortals

user18 she ?

user17 god is a woman and her name is pascale leclerc 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

user19 LMAO

lando.jpg

liked by alex_albon, yourusername, logansargeant and 772 812 others.

lando.jpg never accept an invitation from yourusername for a dinner at her house because there’s a 100% chance she’s gonna burn herself while making you food

view all comments!

oscarpiastri shouldnt have invited YOU

lando.jpg ??? MEAN ???

oscarpiastri dont make fun of my clumsy girlfriend

yourusername when he’s protective ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

yourusername i burnt myself while YOU ALL WERE LAUGHING

user20 oscar was laughing too?😭

arthur_leclerc he was glaring at everyone laughing while looking after yn

user21 oscar is the bestest boyfriend possible i need an oscar in my life

user22 yourusername can you fight?

yourusername i have three older brothers, go figure it out

user22 (｡•́︿•̀｡)

charles_leclerc cant believe they didn’t invite ME and they invited YOU

arthur_leclerc she invited me and enzo LOL

user23 lando.jpg comeback to make fun of oscars gf 😭😭😭

charles_leclerc SHE WAS MY SISTER FIRST

user24 yn is a klutz first human second

oscarpiastri

liked by pascale_leclerc, nicolepiastri, yourusername and 921 728 others.

oscarpiasti a few things that summer break gave me: a dog (yes, i’m officially a dog dad), relaxing time with my friends n family, a fiancée and lots of headaches due to the clumsiness of my gorgeous fiancée.

view all comments!

yourusername i love youuuuuu

hattiepiastri THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT???

hattiepiastri yourusername YOURE MARRYING MY BROTHER????

hattiepiastri HOW DID THAT HAPPEN??

yourusername i flipped a coin

georgerussell63 it probably hit you in the face too, no?

user25 IMAGINE THE FAMILY GATHERINGS???

user26 hold on is oscar gonna go there as charles’ son or yn’s throphy husband??

user27 the family dynamics must be crazy??? because wdym his girlfriend’s brother ADOPTED him??

oscarpiasti fiancee’s*

user27 oh hes not playing

user28 this gon be soooo awkward at the family dinner

yourusername BURN THE PAPERS charles_leclerc HES MINE NOW

charles_leclerc HE WAS MINE FIRST

nicolepiastri i’m pretty sure he was mine first 🥰

pascale_leclerc now we have to share children nicolepiastri

landonorris love you guys but you shouldn’t have a wedding because with yns abilities she might turn the party into a funeral

mclaren so glad to have yn in the mclaren family! 🧡

user29 engagement this engagement that we KNEW you would tie the knot sooner or later WHAT IS THE DOGS NAME 🗣️🗣️🗣️

oscarpiastri pepper :)

user30 yn and lorenzo both engaged in 2024?? leclerc siblings are going STRONG

lewishamilton congratulations to you guys 💚💚

sebastianvettel lots of love and patience with that one, oscar :)

user31 not the girls not congratulating oscyn… fake friends?

user32 gtfo they prob knew abt it already and congratulated them IN PERSON and not in instagram photo comments

francocolapinto lost my chance 😞😔😭😭😢

user33 LMAOOO??? bro saw her at ONE (1) race and fell in love

user34 honestly cant blame him

user35 pls never media train him

yourusername pls franco never change 🫶

pierregasly pls dont elope i need that free food

yukitsunoda0511 dude youre a MILLIONAIRE?

pierregasly dude gtfo

yukitsunoda0511 if i were them i would elope just to spite you

oscarpiastri dont give yn any ideas pls

yourusername no eloping for us i need my brothers to walk me down the aisle 😁😁😁

georgerussell63 to make sure you don’t trip over the dress?

yourusername youre officially uninvited 👎

user36 SHE WANTS CHARLES ENZO AND ARTHUR WALKING HER DOWN THE AISLE??? OH IM GONNA KILL MYSELF

[emmyrosee]

[12:23 am]

Osamu swears he’s going to hire someone for the graveyard shift.

He can’t keep doing these obscene night cleaning-shifts alone, they run him exhausted and keep him from coming home to you for a vast majority of the night, keeping you both from each other.

You leave before he wakes up. He’s back after you’ve gone to bed.

He’d assured you that, tonight however, he was going to be home at 9, come hell or high water, to spend a night with you like you deserve, because if anyone deserves his attention for being a good sport, so patient and loving and kind to him, it’s you.

But he’s not perfect, despite what he’d love to believe.

Because counting the registers turned into resweeping the floors. Then, when he realized it was still before 9, he started to wipe the counters. By the time that was done, he’d noticed the sacks of rice that needed to be moved to the kitchen from the pantry in preparation for tomorrow’s rush. He needed to scan them in for inventory, then he needed to pencil them in to make another note of how much he needs to order from Kita-San.

All this… until his watch cruelly reminded him of the time.

Past midnight.

Now osamu drives home in silence, a massive hand scrubbing down his face while the other weakly holds the steering wheel.

It's a miracle he's alive to tell the tale.

His eyes are heavy as he pulls into your driveway, home silhouetted in the moonlight like a beacon of hope. He shambles into his home, carefully maneuvering around his dark home as to not wake you. He knows you're asleep in bed, curled on your side with your head on his pillow bc it smells like him, and he'll have to move you so gently and try not to melt at the sleepy smile you give him.

Tonight, however, you surprise him.

The room is lit with candles that are placed on top of books that lead like a trail to the bed, the lamp covered with a thin, red cloth that adorns the room in a pink hue. Melted chocolate strawberries are plopped on his nightstand. He smiles at the sight of you, his onigiri shirt which pools around your body and a pair of underwear, curled up on the bed and sleeping soundly, using your pillows as a blanket.

He sighs as his heart aches from all the clear effort you put into the decor, bowing slightly to blow out the candles- he’s honestly amazed the house hasn’t burned down- all before making his way to the bed and slowly sitting down. He smiles fondly as your brows furrow at the dipping of the bed, and he rests a loving hand on your back, thumb running back and forth soothingly.

“All this work and I couldn’t be quicker, huh?” He mumbles to you, knowing you can’t hear him, but he chuckles as you shuffle to be closer to the new warmth. Finally, your eyes twitch to slowly open, and you yawn as you slowly blink awake, sleepy gaze drawing up to Osamu. You smile and try to curl closer to him, “hi, baby,” you mumble sleepily.

He clicks his tongue fondly and moves his hand to cup your cheek, stroking his thumb over the creases from your smile, “hey sweetheart… what’s all this, hm?” He asks, smiling happily when you chuckle and close your eyes again.

“Wanted us to have a romantic evening,” you explain, and osamu wants to kill everyone who kept him from you tonight. “I miss our time together, but we’ve been so busy and…” In your sleepy haze, you must realize what you’re saying because your eyes fly open and you stop yourself from finishing your thought, but Osamu already knows what you’re thinking before you can even tell him otherwise.

“And I was supposed to be here,” he sighs. When you say nothing and your eyes do your best to avoid his, he scratches the tiny hairs at the nape of your neck, “I’m sorry, baby, I should’ve been here.”

“You were working,” you hum, head nuzzling against your own arm more. “I get it.”

“I just don’t have the time anymore for stuff like this-“

His words trail off before they can dive from his tongue, but he wonders if it was worth it, because the silence is suffocating, and he can already tell by the way your brows furrow in pain that even you’re surprised with his words.

“Have the time…” you begin, slowly sitting up. “For… what?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he corrects, but at this point, he’s watching your face contort from shock to just… sadness. He feels his heart break, he knows he needs to fix this. “I just meant I didn’t have anymore free time.”

This time, you slowly sit up, still facing away from him, and he hates the feeling of you being so appalled by his audacity when he’s trying so hard to fix it- even if there’s nothing to fix.

There’s nothing he can say, not much else he can do, he’s done his damage, and now his price is to watch your glimmering eyes blink a line of tears that quickly get wiped away with the back of your hand.

“I didn’t realize I was free time,” you choke, and he moves his lips to try and form words, but not a single one comes out to try and fix the situation.

You’re not, he wants to say. That you take all his time, you’ve earned all this time, all he wants is you, all the time, and he’s been shitty and he’s amazed you haven’t upped and left him for all he is when it’s all he deserves.

Why the hell can’t he just say it?

“I’m… I’m gonna go out to the couch,” you say, finally looking up at him and sealing the final nail in his coffin. Your sclera’s are red with tears, and your voice croaks from the lump of embarrassment that settles against the chords.

“No, no, no baby, c’mon,” he pleads, reaching out to grab your wrist. “We can still have a good night, yeah?” He brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles, “have some strawberries, drink some champagne, right?”

You offer him a small, fake smile, but your eyes glimmer in betrayal, “it’s okay. It’s late. You’ve got to be up tomorrow morning.”

“But-“ he squeezes your wrist tighter. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he whimpers. “We can still cuddle, I always have time to cuddle with ya.”

“Do we have to pencil that in as free time too?” You scoff. He deserves it, he know he does, but he reels his hand back like he’s been burned, heartbreak squeezing his chest.

“Baby, no… god, no, I’m sorry-“

“I know you just tripped up your words, Osamu,” you confess, wrapping your arms around yourself as an attempt to comfort. “But you clearly were feeling that way, that’s why the thought was there. You meant what you said, even if it wasn’t how you wanted to say it.”

"But-"

"We can finish this tomorrow," you whisper, and he hears it in your throat that you're fighting back tears. "I'm tired."

"Yeah... okay..."

But you don't go to sleep.

Osamu knows this.

Because he never went to sleep either, staring at the ceiling while he listened to you wail on the phone with your best friend, his own tears biting his eyes, hot like fire as they roll down his face.

[itoshiexx]

running your fingers through their hair

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you. 

“excuse me?”

his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair. 

“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you. 

“that’s absolutely not true.”

“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”

rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?

you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”

his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”

his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”

smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.

“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”

his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them. 

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.

“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend. 

despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions. 

however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone. 

especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear. 

“liebling? you okay?”

it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.

but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.

you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.

“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”

his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.

eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.

“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”

you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you. 

you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”

his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?” 

michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”

“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”

your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen. 

“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”

your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”

you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one. 

“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more. 

your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.

“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom. 

“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”

though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes. 

“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”

“hey!”

“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”

the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.

“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours. 

“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”

your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining. 

you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:

“it’s always been you, too.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! House Of The Dragon x Game of Thrones! Reader|Part 8

<<< Part 6

Gulit is eating you alive upon realizing that you might have been the cause for Rhaenys death, but that didn't explain why you made sure to check on Aegon daily.

You weren't supposed to feel pity and sympathy towards a man who stole your mother's birthright.

But he reminded you of your grandsire, Viserys.

He reminded you of when Robb was murdered.

You were right there beside him when he opened his eyes, staring at him with your soft eyes.

Of course, you called the maesters not giving yourself the chance to hear him call out your name in his broken voice, trying to reach his hand out.

Aemond was burning inside with jealousy, but decides not to kill his older brother espically when Aegon claims that he 'doesn't' remember anything.

On the other hand with the Blacks, Corlys makes the decision to continue supporting Rhaenyra, especially after finding out you were taken hostage.

Your mother becomes paranoid to the point where she wished to ride Syrax and burn down Kingslanding.

All Rhaenyra could think of, is having you back in her embrace like she did when you were a baby, but her advisors are standing in her path.

"My sweet little girl, she must be scared, my poor girl"

Jacaerys destroyed everything in his bed chambers, all he could think about is what his monster of a uncle would do to you in his absence.

Not knowing that Aemond did nothing but speak softly to you, and lay his head on your lap every night, while sharing his deepest thoughts and emotions.

There is one person who you wouldn't mind staring at for the rest of your life.

Ser Gwayne Hightower, he reminded you of your father, Jaime Lannister.

But Gwayne thought you found him handsome, so he flirted with you.

He truly thought he could charm you into marrying him or something.

Yet you only smiled, before handing him a letter to give to his youngest nephew.

"Tell Daeron that I don't wish to keep in contact with him anymore nor will I send him anymore letters, Ser Gwayne"

[contemplatingoutlander]

It has fallen to me, the humor columnist, to endorse Harris for president

Isn’t this what a newspaper is supposed to do?

I love that The Washington Post satirist Alexandra Petri took it upon herself to endorse Harris for her paper after Bezos pulled the plug on the editorial board doing so. This is a gift🎁link, so feel free to read the entire article. Below are some excerpts:

The Washington Post is not bothering to endorse a candidate in the 2024 presidential election. (Jeff Bezos, the founder of Blue Origin and the founder and executive chairman of Amazon and Amazon Web Services, also owns The Post.) We as a newspaper suddenly remembered, less than two weeks before the election, that we had a robust tradition 50 years ago of not telling anyone what to do with their vote for president. It is time we got back to those “roots,” I’m told! Roots are important, of course. As recently as the 1970s, The Post did not endorse a candidate for president. As recently as centuries ago, there was no Post and the country had a king! [...] But if I were the paper, I would be a little embarrassed that it has fallen to me, the humor columnist, to make our presidential endorsement. I will spare you the suspense: I am endorsing Kamala Harris for president, because I like elections and want to keep having them. Let me tell you something. I am having a baby (It’s a boy!), and he is expected on Jan. 6, 2025 (It’s a … Proud Boy?). This is either slightly funny or not at all funny.  [...] Well, that world [the baby will be born into] will look very different, depending on the outcome of November’s election, and I care which world my kid gets born into. I also live here myself. And I happen to care about the people who are already here, in this world. Come to think of it, I have a lot of reasons for caring how the election goes. I think it should be obvious that this is not an election for sitting out. The case for Donald Trump is “I erroneously think the economy used to be better? I know that he has made many ominous-sounding threats about mass deportations, going after his political enemies, shutting down the speech of those who disagree with him (especially media outlets), and that he wants to make things worse for almost every category of person — people with wombs, immigrants, transgender people, journalists, protesters, people of color — but … maybe he’ll forget.” “But maybe he’ll forget” is not enough to hang a country on! [...] I’m just a humor columnist. I only know what’s happening because our actual journalists are out there reporting, knowing that their editors have their backs, that there’s no one too powerful to report on, that we would never pull a punch out of fear. That’s what our readers deserve and expect: that we are saying what we really think, reporting what we really see; that if we think Trump should not return to the White House and Harris would make a fine president, we’re going to be able to say so. That’s why I, the humor columnist, am endorsing Kamala Harris by myself! [color/ emphasis added]

How far The Washington Post has fallen into the "darkness" it used to work so hard to ward off to help keep our democracy alive.

[edited]

[avatarkv]

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (1)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc; 3104)

Jake knew a saying; held onto it ever since he had resided amongst Na’vi– every person is born twice. While he believed that it meant that the second time is when you earn your place here in Pandora, Eywa had a clever way of broadening the idea. His very children were proof of it.

He thinks it’s the great mother’s way of compensation, perhaps a second chance for him to do better– to do his very best to keep them alive on behalf of those he lost. 

While Kiri was a special case enough, you too were an odd one. 

You are Tsu’tey's daughter. Turns out, he had someone in secret while he trained to become olo’eyktan– when he was supposed to take Neytiri for himself. It was taboo��� absolutely wrong to become unfaithful to one’s mate. But following the carnage of the great war, when Tsu’tey had so selflessly sacrificed his life, only then did Tsi’ewa came forward; told everyone of their love and what could have been. She was a simple songstress along Ninat, but it was her round and bulging belly that caught everyone’s attention.

It caused an uproar and understandably so. After all, Neytiri had only announced her rebellion with Jake not long before, but when the people connected the dots themselves and both stories had become one, they understood that their hearts merely yearned for another and no one should have ever dictated otherwise. Arrangements had been made and condolences were exchanged— everyone can only look back and wish that things could have been different.

Jake was supposed to take you under his wing as a way of honoring him– he owed Tsu’tey his life and perhaps an apology as big as so. But after your mother had unfortunately died during your birth, he knew to himself that he had to take you in; not as a responsibility, but as his own blood and flesh. His first daughter.

You were the loudest baby, he recalled. That day, Jake had rocked your body back and forth in his arms frantically, while Mo’at and Neytiri did everything within their power to help Tsì'ewa. Your cries were ear-splitting, enough to wake the whole clan up. 

“Just what do I do with you,” He muttered under his breath, eyebrows knitted in frustration– just where do he hold you? Is he doing it right? Are you hurt? Why are you crying so loud?

“Jake, the baby!” Neytiri’s shout from inside had cut his train of loud thoughts, snapping back to your bawling. He wasn’t doing such a good job. 

“I’m trying, Neytiri– this thing won’t budge.”

Neytiri had emerged from the hut, stomping her way to Jake with a scowl. "That is not a thing, you skxawng!" she exclaimed before gently scooping you up from his arms, cooing softly to you– though it was more like mocking him instead. “Does Jake here make you cry?” She said, patting your thigh soothingly. “He’s not at all pleasant to look at, but you have to get used to it.” 

Almost in an instant, your cries had died down. You babbled along with her, like you were agreeing with her every word. He slowly pulled himself closer to Neytiri, eyes wide with curiosity as he watched your small hands playing with her long braids. “Heh, she has Tsu’tey’s eyes,” He whispers, unable to look away. 

The flap of the hut swinging open was the only thing that got their attention, momentarily away from yours as they looked at Mo’at with anticipation. With a single shake of her head, sorrow surged their hearts, eyes traveling back to your innocent ones. They mourned for you; an unknowing child should never have to carry such grief. They had to make a choice– A responsibility they weren’t expecting to have so early. 

Jake mindlessly trails his finger down your stomach, gently, like you were the most fragile thing. Your little hand wraps around it and it was like you had binded his scattered thoughts into one big understanding. 

Sully. You’re one of them now.

Jake releases a breathless chuckle as he gazes upon his lover and you with a newfound clarity, a perspective so bright it illuminated in his very eyes. Then came an idea– the desire of having children of their own. Perhaps that’s why Neteyam came after only two years. You were quite the ploy; the push they needed to start a family.

You were truly blessed– the genius of your age was undeniable, your remarkable talent soon earning you the admiration of all who had seen it. By the time you turned six, you had already mastered many of the abilities that a hunter would need– your skills with a bow were unrivaled by most of the children your age, let alone those who were much older than you. They'd marvel at your accuracy each time you took aim with an arrow. You could never miss. You had to make sure you didn’t. 

By the age of 12, you had already accompanied Jake in hunts. You had developed a knack for planning, coming up with routes and back-up plans that were often surprisingly effective. You have proved to be helpful plenty of times. You were quick, silent– full of poise. They often wondered if you were an old, seasoned soul trapped inside a little girl’s body. 

But as quickly as the spotlight had shone down on you, it left almost as soon as it had come.

(“What you did today was reckless, y/n.” Jake settles his bow on the table aggressively, emitting a sharp thud. You were just as frustrated, throwing your satchel down the floor of the hut. 

The mission had gone rather wildly, with things not going along the plan. There was another airship– one that no one was aware of. Your instincts jolted your body, immediately throwing an explosive towards it which had it blowing all over the place– its pieces crashing and causing a wildfire. 

Jake argued that there could’ve been a more safer way. One that didn’t have to risk more of our resources and supplies; one that didn’t have to injure the other warriors. Of course you knew to yourself that you did the right thing. You did what you had to do. 

 ‘You could’ve been hurt and got others killed! Just what were you thinking?” He continued to berate you. You jest that if this went on, there’d be steam visible above his already heated head. 

“I had to take a risk– not everything goes to plan and this is proof of it.” You answered back with a scowl, “If I hadn't, there would’ve been more casualties.” 

“That’s not a call for you to answer to! Jesus Christ,” Jake runs his palms down his face, grunting, before looking back at you– expression suddenly tired and soft. “Come on kid, where’s that sweetheart who always listened to what I said?” 

You had scoffed, a hurt forming on the pits of your stomach. “That sweetheart once had a place in plans before.” You said, eyes unwilling to look at him. It weighed in your heart heavily– why did people assume that you were the only one who changed? You didn’t understand. “Pretty sure the Jake before was a good listener too.” 

The wrinkle in between his eyebrows deepened in confusion, but he never was one for confrontation. With a single dismissive grunt, he turns his back against you. “I’m way past your attitude. You’re grounded. Go.”)

As you grew, the resemblance to your father became ever more apparent. Jake started noticing the many similarities between the two of you; the way you walked– how you sauntered confidently through a crowd. Your braids would move along your heavy steps (and perhaps, that’s where Neteyam got his mannerism of swaying his too.), shoulders wide and proud. You even had his signature snarl, something Tsu’tey was known for that unfortunately seemed to have been passed down to you too. 

However, it was more than how you brought yourself. You were strong-willed– stubborn. 

There was another thing about you too. You didn’t call Jake dad anymore. It hurt him– left a heavy feeling on his chest every time you regarded him so distant. It was unfair that you still called Neytiri mom, why did it have to change with him? He didn’t have the heart to address it. Couldn’t ask you what went wrong. 

Because he knows damn well why. 

Lo’ak was enough of a headache, but you were a different kind of royal pain in the ass, more like a personal problem. It was tiresome. Petty. There was not a day that you and Jake wouldn’t argue and bite each other’s ass off– and yet, there was never a day where you two would talk it out. The fights would blur itselves out and before they knew it, things would be back to normal, only for it to fall out again over something small. It was routine. The only thing normal for you both. 

He missed you– missed his baby. Just when did you grow to become so distant? When did he start to overlook you?

You’ll admit, you might have indulged in the folk’s gossip. They always had a story for everything and they have plenty about your father. Tsu’tey was a fit olo’eyktan. He had proved so in his training and determination. Of course it was a low punch in the gut when the throne had been passed to an outsider– a demon, most of all. It was unfair, he knew it wasn’t right. A washed up marine had taken something he had worked for like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. 

You pitied your father and you feared you’d be like him– like nothing. 

And history might just repeat itself. You weren’t clueless– wasn’t blind to the fact that Jake had trained your brother more. He adored him so much that the very moment he was in the right age to train, you were off to fend for yourself; trained all alone while Jake went over the routine with Neteyam like he did with you. You remembered waiting for him every afternoon because he promised that he’d make time– that time was yours and yours only. But as the light bled and neared eclipse and you were too cold to wait outside, you learned never to wait again. 

They would come home soon after– smiles on their faces and a handful of apologies for you. 

Soon enough, your suspicions proved you right as the people started to talk again; Neteyam– the golden child. He would make a good olo’eyktan. 

Perhaps that would explain the drift between you and Neteyam too. Could they blame you for it? You had lost their attention so early– while you still needed them. You weren’t their kid and you were reminded of it everyday. In times when you didn’t know if you had space in the family hammock while they sat together, telling stories under the starry sky. You pretended to have fallen asleep everytime; back against them as you listened. In times where the family was growing and growing, until the small table wasn’t big enough for everyone anymore– or in this case, for you. 

(“Come on, ma’ite, what are you doing so far from here?” Neytiri had called for you when she noticed how distant you were from everyone. You silently scooted beside her, wooden bowl in your lap. “Look, I prepared your favorite.” 

It wasn’t. You hated it. You hated the tangy taste of it so badly. But you had decided to eat what was left on the table after everyone had gotten their meals and there wasn’t usually enough for you. Neytiri thought nothing of that– didn’t think that you eating only scraps and dried fruit was because there wasn’t anything else for you to have. She simply thought that it was your favorite and had been making it for you ever since.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her. Not when she thought she had been doing well with preparing it. You kissed your teeth, smiling tightly as you lifted the food to your lips, eating silently. “Thank you, it’s good.” You muttered under your breath after.) 

But you were family; they said so themselves. When they tucked you in to sleep, when they patted your head. They were still present now, just not in the way you wanted– not in the way you longed for. It seemed like making them angry was the only way you could have their attention– particularly, your dad. You could never make Neytiri mad. She tries to understand you, she does. Explaining now just seems so.. Petty. So childish, you decided to push her away instead. 

What do you tell her? That you only let dad blow a fuse or two was because you missed him? Because you didn’t know what went wrong? 

So there goes your routine. 

“I just don’t understand why I can’t be olo’eykte.” You had brought up again, lips in a familiar snarl. “You tire me and for what? Kiri is already training to be Tsahik– just what would my place in this clan be?” 

“We are not having this conversation again, y/n. Not tonight.”

Jake had just returned from a particularly bad hunt; went home empty-handed and with a patience as thin as a strand of hair. He continued to sharpen his dagger, movements almost aggressive. Everyone immediately went out of his way, not wanting to be on the end of his temper– not you though. You could never get a hint, it seems.

“Yes, tonight! My ceremony is almost near, sir. I have been waiting.”

It wasn’t like he had a reason anyway. Jake couldn’t tell you because he had no reason as to why. Why couldn’t you be olo’eykte? You had all the skills to be one, even more so. But in the back of his mind, a thought so deep and petty that he couldn’t bear to say, tells him that the name he carried was something to gift his eldest son. Olo’eyktan was a privilege reserved for Neteyam. He never thought to have you so early– he always dreamed of having a son first. 

“Wait more.” 

“This is insane– sa’nok!” You had turned to Neytiri, eyes pleading. She quickly grasps your arm and tries to tug you back towards the exit, speaking in a soft but firm voice as she tries to soothe the tension.

“Ma’ite, why don’t we go out for a walk?” She whispers. To be frank, she was tired of this– never of you, no. But at the way things had been. Parents aren’t parents automatically just because they have had children of their own. It’s a skill they have yet to muster– to truly understand. She didn’t know where the line between you and her had blurry along the years. Didn’t know where this constant need of yours to be seen came from. 

You jerked your arm away from her, almost too harshly. It tugged on her heartstrings, not knowing what was going on with you. “I cannot wait anymore.” You said, taking two steps towards Jake with an unreadable anger– an anger he didn’t know when had stemmed from. 

“Is it because I’m not your daughter?” 

His eyes widened. A flash of vulnerability visible in his gaze, momentarily softening his glare. “You stop this right now, y/n.” He had stood up, tucking the dagger back to his loincloth. Jake’s larger frame towered over you, telling you to drop it– to leave the conversation. But you weren’t backing down. 

“I am your eldest–! You trained me earlier than Neteyam, I have been here long enough–”

“You aren’t ready!” He had shouted with the same fierceness, earning a dirty look from Neytiri.

“Why won’t you see me?” Your voice had softened, borderline begging– just a bit, but enough for his ears to flatten in response. He knew that beneath those few simple words lay many layers of underlying meaning; emotions that have yet to be spoken. 

But he turns his back against you dismissively anyway. “Neytiri, get her out of here.” 

Neytiri grabs you by the arms again, although a bit forceful now, but just enough for her to touch you– to have you in between her arms. She embraced you, like she was trying to keep the words from escalating. She feared one of you would say something out of line; something you both would regret. 

But on the brink of the tension– the severity of the situation, you had muttered. Your voice was muffled, but it was clear. The message was oh so crystal. “You took everything from my father.” 

Jake grunts, “Yeah? Well maybe your father wasn’t enough either.” 

“Jake!” Neytiri hisses and although Jake couldn’t see her, he knew very well he was getting quite the conversation with his mate too. 

It was a low blow. Unnecessary. A straight strike to the gut. It was a pain so bitter, you didn’t want it to linger any longer– you were nauseous. You wanted no more than to vomit everything that spiraled out of your stomach. 

“You want to lead so badly and you can’t even control your temper. No clan wants a hot-head for a leader.” But he kept going– relentless and cruel. “You ought to be someone else’s shadow.” 

“But I’m your daughter,” Your tone had softened, almost cracking as the lump in your throat grew. Tears blurred your vision, threatening to escape as Neytiri held you close. 

“And yet you never listen to me— because I’m not exactly your father, yeah?” With one last glance, he stepped out, passing his children who stayed just outside the door, listening. Jake opens his mouth, desperate to ease the tension– the discomfort written in their faces, but he quickly shuts it and continues to walks out. He had said enough for tonight. There was nothing saving his face from this. It was best if he left instead. 

“Oh, ma’ite.” Neytiri rocks her body along yours, drawing soothing circles on your back but the embarrassment settles in your chest– gnawing at your body. You catch a glance of the pitiful looks from your siblings as they try to enter the hut silently. 

How could you make a mess out of yourself in front of them? Why had you let this blown over?

You retracted slowly from your mother’s hold, wiping your tears before running the opposite way from where Jake had gone to. It was better if you left instead.

mauve here! finally done writing this after racking my head for weeks. wanted it to be relatable (??) as much as possible, idk why. there is just something therapeutic w writing about your past issues <3 but i hope this one's alright!!! really excited to finally post this heheh

lots of kisses!

[lulunothulu]

“Picture Proof”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: when you see there’s been an accident on one of Jake’s missions, you beg him to send you proof he’s alive.

Contents: talks of death, but mainly just worry/anxiety and fluff

‘Reports have said that there has been significant damage to the pilot and their jet. No names have been given but we will keep this situation updated. This has been…�� ‘Multiple sources have told us that the pilot is at the hospital in critical conditions—’

You stare at the TV screen, eyes going foggy with tears.

There was an accident. A pilot got caught in a bird strike, their jet went down. Jake was supposed to be flying this morning. What if it was him?

Jake is fine. He has to be.

You couldn’t stop the tears from coming. Everything in your heart told you Jake was fine but until you heard from him, you wouldn’t know for sure.

Pulling your phone out, you text: Jake, please text or call me when and if you see this.

Two hours pass and still no word from Jake. You’re shaking at this point, trying to keep yourself from driving to base and walking to his normal hangar. Worry fills the pit of your stomach when you haven’t heard from him another two hours later.

You started praying by the end of those four hours. You weren’t one to pray, but you were now.

“God,” you cry. “Please don’t let it be him. Let him come back to me. Please.”

———

You were pacing now, Jake hadn’t texted or called you back in six hours and your mind was already trying to accept the fact that he might’ve been the pilot that went down.

Heart pounding, hands sweating, and mind racing, you text him again.

Jake, please PLEASE text or call me back when and if you see this. I love you.

Your vision blurs when you see the iPhone blue bubble turn green. Nononono. Please don’t have taken him.

A son chokes through your clenched jaw as you drop to the floor, hands on your temples to hold in some of the sobs. You feel a guttural scream erupting from your chest but you stay silent.

“The navy would’ve sent someone to the house if it was Jake,” you tried to reason. “Jake is fine.”

You smile to yourself, begging yourself to believe it.

“Jake is fine, he’s just busy doing pilot shit.”

You take a deep breath before squeezing your eyes but and nodding softly.

“Jake is—”

The text chime scares you out of finishing that sentence and on your phone screen you see a text from Jake.

Without skipping a beat, you unlock your phone and read his text.

Hi baby, I’m just now seeing this. We were in the air longer because of a flight gone wrong. I love you too.

Relief washes over you and you’re sobbing again. You clutch your phone close to your chest, sobbing even harder when you reread his text to you.

You: Send me proof you’re okay.

It takes a second, but Jake sends you a selfie. He’s in his flight suit and gear, hair unruly and eyes relaxed, mouth slightly apart. Behind him, the huge American flag inside the hangar.

You smile down at his picture and half sob and laugh when he adds:

Still looking hot as ever, aren’t I? ;)

When you don’t respond right away, his caller ID fills your screen. You answer and hiccup, “Hello?”

“Darlin’,” he drawls. “I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

“You’re glad?” You laugh, wiping your tears away. “I was terrified it was you that got caught in that bird strike. When you didn’t call or text me…”

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I couldn’t text you right away because Mav wanted everyone accounted for and then Cyclone wanted to have an emergency formation…it was a mess. I only now just got released.”

“Okay,” you say, choking back a sob.

“Darlin’?” Jake says in the other side of the phone. “Y/N, talk to me.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” you croak. “I’m so fucking glad you’re alright.”

“I am too,” he tells you. “I’ll be home in a few minutes, okay? We can cuddle and watch some of your girly movies tonight.”

You sniffle and nod. “Okay baby.”

“Okay,” he says, you can practically hear him smile. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Now, as a man who may have gotten hurt today, you better take that back.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Never.”

Short and sweet but still effective 🥹

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi, I would like a Yandere request. Would the Targaryen family react if the baby reader were abused?

tw: mentions of sexual abuse and death/torture.

I assume you're talking about sexual abuse, right? If not, then I'm sorry, but I'm going to answer as if you were, which is how I understood it! 🥰 Btw, I choose just some characters because I thought they'd more interesting than others in this scenario.

This scenario, in which bby!reader would be abused, is one of the few moments in which the entire family, the Targaryens, the Hightowers and the Velaryons, would come together. For the first time, the rivalry between the Greens and the Blacks would give a truce for you.

The priority is bby!Reader and discovers who was responsible for a horrendous act against his ward, the baby of the family. And how the hell did your guard, the person who was supposed to protect you, let something like this happen to you? Your sworn protector will be executed for his incompetence in protecting you.

Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Rhaenys would be very busy trying to comfort and help the Reader in any way they can. Offering space and peace if the Reader wants it, but also, in a way, never leaving the Reader's side. The women would make agreements among themselves to check on you one by one so as not to scare you too much or overwhelm you. And they would be very strict about other men, even family members, getting close to you.

Rhaenyra is completely shattered that her baby was a victim of something like that. She will not stop until she figures out who did it and avenges you. If she was already an overprotective mother, this would get worse. She will become increasingly suspicious of everything and everyone and will not trust anyone with you beyond herself.

Viserys, if he is alive, would be giving orders to everyone to find out who hurt you, find out who abused you for him to kill them himself. Otto will act according to the king's orders but will also use his resources and riches from the Hightower House to find the culprit and will not rest until he finds the culprit. Corlys will also not be different, using the richness of his house for the benefit of the Reader and justice. Nothing can stop them.

They will try to give you comfort and support, although not as directly as the women are very cautious about other men getting close to you.

Daemon and Criston, who hate each other deeply, would have formed a kind of alliance, an agreement between them, to discover and find the guilty person. Any hatred that the men may feel for each other will be put aside for the good of the bby!Reader.

Both men are your fathers (although there are differences of opinion), they want to help you and avenge you at the same time. Daemon will burn the whole of Westeros with his dragon until he finds the bastard and he will find him. He will spare no effort and brutal methods to get what he wants. And he will not stop until he finds it. He may even end up allying himself with Otto and Corlys since the motive is you. Anything for you.

Criston is in an explosive fury from the moment he finds out what was made to his baby, his child. Although alone he can not do much, he has the whole family next to him and he will do whatever it takes to protect his baby and make sure to destroy the one who dare to hurt you. He will beat, kill, and torture those who get in his way.

Just like his mother, Criston will try to find better ways to keep bby!Reader safe. Whether it's with new, trustworthy guards by his side at all times or he won't leave your side, since he'll be so paranoid and worried that he won't trust anyone to keep you safe.

Aegon and Aemond will be together in their quest for revenge. They will be by your side, offering you comfort but also looking for the culprit first and foremost. They will stop at nothing to find him and I imagine they will join forces with Daemon to do so. As mentioned, rivalries will be put aside for now.

And once the person is found... He will never have been born. He will be tortured for months and months, begging to die but death will take a long time to come, that is, if it comes at all. Everyone in the family participates in the torture, especially Criston, Daemon, Aegon and Aemond. They will insist on it.

Aegon may want to feed the abuser to his dragon, but this may depend on whether others let the bastard dies.

Bby!Reader will receive all the support and care possible from everyone and can be sure that her abuser will never come near her again and that nothing like this will happen again.

Never again.

[namelessgakusei]

Meant to be yours!

Variant!Mark Grayson x reader

Warnings: suicide, mentions of violence, death, op hadn't watched a single episode of invincible and relied on fanfics, first fanfic written and posted

Notes: Brought to you by someone who's stalking the mark grayson x reader tag everyday. This man has me on a chokehold I swear. I heard Meant to be yours and this idea has been living in my head rent free. This is purely self indulgent.

"All is forgiven baby! C'mon get dressed, you're my date to the pep rally tonight!"

Variant!Mark who, after snapping from pressure of hero work, turned on Earth and started killing people. GDA? Guardians of the Globe? The resistance formed not long after his killing spree? All gone.

Variant!Mark who, all bloodied and smiling, bangs at the door of your room/the safe house you're hiding at. You may not have escaped on time or had joined the resistance, but it's okay baby! He forgives you! Just come out!

Variant!Mark who, despite completely going off the rails, genuinely loves you. You were he only one keeping him sane ever since shit went down during his time as Invincible. You were there when Cecil's missions got too hard, when his dad turned on Earth, when being Invincible is starting to become more like a burden. You're the only one worth keeping alive in Earth, babe! Please open the door!

Variant!Mark who, starts begging for you to let him in. He won't hurt you, don't be scared! He would never! He'd rather skin himself alive than make you cry! Is it because of the blood? He'll clean up! Was the violence too much for you? He never meant for you to know about his outburst! Stupid Cecil for broadcasting everything and sent out warnings to everyone! The old man had it coming when he ripped his head off. Everything just became too much and he's so, so sick of it! He'll do anything, just please don't shut him out! :(

Variant!Mark who can easily pry the door open but he respects your decisions! You'll come around in time! This is just one of your silly fights right? You promised that you'll still love him throughout everything! You're meant to be together, he knows that! You know that! You're all that he needs and he's all that you need!

Variant!Mark who starts to get antsy at your lack of response. He's begging here, can't you see? He's starting to get worried, baby. Don't make him come inside! Despite his loose screws, he doesn't want to push your boundaries!

Variant!Mark who breaks open your door, apologizing with a bowed head and pouty lips, who looks like a kicked puppy than a bloody murderer. He's really sorry, but he's getting worried! What if something happened to you? What if those rats that he let live out of a whim came to get you? Don't be mad at him, he'll fix your door later! He just wants to know if you're okay, and maybe get some hugs and kisses?

Variant!Mark whose expression drops from bashful to horror at what he saw. Who drops to his knees upon seeing your hanged corpse. There is no sign of intruders nor resistance, did you do this yourself? No! Why?! No!

Variant!Mark who wastes no time getting your body off the ropes, desperately looking for a pulse and feeling like his insides were put in a grinder when he feels nothing but your cold body.

Variant!Mark who broke down as he cradles your dead body. His breath erratic as he clings to you like a lifeline. No! This wasn't supposed to happen! You were going on a date with him this weekend, right? This isn't happening! You're... You're just... Please don't leave him alone... You were all he could trust! He can't do this alone! He needs you!

Variant!Mark who is completely out of control the moment he understood that he was truly alone. Earth burned under his control, humanity is nearly wiped out saved for those fools who kept trying to take him down. Everything just felt, numb. Even when he kill, destroy, cry, he returns empty. What's the point of all of this?

Variant!Mark who was deep into his grief that he seriously considered following you, got offered to go to the Mainstream!Universe in exchange for his help with its destruction.

Variant!Mark who finally had a glimmer of hope when he realized that he can have you again! All he has to do is follow some orders and you two can be together again! Wait for him babe, he's on his way!

Variant!Mark who, after finishing his location, zoomed towards your house. Clever one, you evacuated already! Don't worry, he knows you, he'll find you again! And that he did when he stood at the other end of the door, getting deja vu at the situation.

Variant!Mark who doesn't let what happened back then repeat itself. Casually slapping the door open, he trapped you in his arms. He apologizes for opening the door like that and scaring you! He's just too excited! You're here again! You two can be together again!

Variant!Mark who doesn't understand why you're struggling against him and screaming that you aren't the one he's thinking you are to be. What do you mean you're not you? Silly, did you hit your head? What are you talking about? Of course you're you! You're his lover! His baby!

Variant!Mark who's never going to let you be alone again. Kidnapping you back to his home dimension or settling in another place is fine, as long as he's with you! He's still shaken from the stunt you did back home, so don't blame him for being handsy for at least a few years!

Variant!Mark who really, really loves you.

[nayaesworld]

Made Men

Mafia!Terry Richmond x Black reader

Warnings: MDNI, Family trauma, mentions of murder, betrayal

A/N: Happy Lovers Day y’all…I hope y’all enjoy💕

—

Summary: Focus on your studies, mind your manners, and stay away from that Richmond boy. Your aunt sang that same tune to you over and over again…but destiny had better plans. And In a world where most people experienced death long before love, how could you deny fate when it came wrapped in a 6’3 package with a crimson bow on top..made men made the underground world go round and yours just so happened to be a bit off its axis..

His very own Miss Universe. The epitome of black beauty and radiance, and he loved you. For all the things that were terribly wrong and fucked up in his life, you were that one right thing in his world that kept him grounded and humble. He loved you for all your weird quirks and interests, for all your loud laughs and giggles, and yet life was telling him yet again that he couldn’t have it all.

Why did the two of you deserve to pay for the past grievances of your families? Why did the two of you have to pay for something that y’all weren’t alive to experience? People were trying to keep her out of his reach, without knowing how far he’d go to get her. No limits. No fucks given for the lives he’d take so they had better stay out of his way. No more separation from her. He couldn’t live that way, couldn’t live without her.

She was worth the trouble, she was worth the risk.

Hands tapping lightly against the steering wheel of his 1969 Ford Mustang. Smoke billowing in the cabin of the car from his cigar. He had learned early on that patience was a virtue and honing it for the right moment made all the difference. He was watching and waiting for his cue, a signal from his baby. It was such a shame he had to even go to such lengths to bust her out of that prison they called her home. A sit down was what he was hoping for, a little chat of some sort to get down to the bottom of this bullshit. So much bull shit. Terry knew who he had to have it with and he played out how things might go in his head, but he’d take any chance if it meant peace with her.

A light switched on and off twice in the living room of the house. His signal..and a sign that things might not be going so smoothly inside for her. He blew out a stressed breath before he stepped out of his car, frustrations were running high but he tried to remain calm and let the bite from the wind chill his hot head. They were supposed to be on the road by now. Long gone and doused in the warm sun deep in Jamaica. A retreat..an escape from this life, and her Valentine’s Day gift. Yet here he was February 13th a day before…bulllshit. His long black leather trench coat blew in the wind as he advanced towards her childhood home.

__

You

Things were bad again between you and your aunt. The packed bags and visible passport sent her into a fit of rage. Only this time you met her frenzied haze of nasty words and disappointment with your own anger. You were beyond fed up, her constant overprotective nature and disregard for your feelings was wearing you down.

“What? You thought I was gonna just let you run off with that boy…he’s no good?!”

“You never even tried to get to know him, you’re a fucking hypocrite, you’re ruining my damn life and you don’t even care!” Wet hot tears streamed from your face endlessly, your body running high on emotions and you were lightheaded from all the yelling.

“I know enough about his family that I shouldn’t have ever let you get close to him! You don’t know what you think you do and I’m sick of repeating myself.”

“Yet again you're speaking in a riddle like I’m some child..tell me the truth. If you care for me how you so often claim. Tell. Me. The. Truth.” Your fingers hit your palm after every word. Beyond fed up with your aunt's silly little rants, this was not going to be how you continued to live your life.

A heavy knock at the front door shut her mouth before she could lie again. The knock was loud and solid, but knowing who resided on the other side of it made your hammering heartbeat calm down enough for you to finally breathe.

Your protector.

Your calm in the loud world.

Your Terry.

You rushed to open the door, almost pulling it clean from its hinges in your rush to get there before your aunt. Leathered hands reached for you and pulled you into his embrace, the smooth cool leather not hiding the rapid thump of his heartbeat. He was angry too..and rightfully so.

“Are you ok..did anybody put their hands on you?” He fired off questions quickly and I shook my head no before he placed me behind him and stepped into the house.

“You’re not welcomed here..bold of you to show your goddamn face.”

“I’m welcomed wherever she is. Because unlike you I have her best interest..period.” You watched him reach down and set a timer on his wristwatch before he rolled his tense shoulders.

“Five minutes. That��s how long you get to tell your niece the truth, or I will. Tell her why you can’t bear to look me in my face…why you can’t tell her the truth after 25 fucking years of raising her.”

Vanessa; your aunt stared daggers at Terry. She reached into her purse and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter. A sign that she was getting overly irritated and anxious but you could care less. She owed you this and so much more. She pat the bottom of the pack before pulling one out and quickly lighting it.

“ I don’t owe her or you a motherfucking thing. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d watch your next words carefully.” Deflection. It was typical with her.

“Tick-Tock auntie, you do it or I will.” His usual smile ridden face was still and frozen in anger. A stark difference from the man you cracked jokes with.

“You damn Richmond men..always coming around taking what doesn’t belong to you. A bunch of no good ass niggas!” More riddles. More rage.

“Tell her how your obsessive and lustful behavior behind my uncle put her mother and father in harm's way. How you knew he actually wanted her but you didn’t mind playing the back field just as long as you were around him.” And there it was, the truth that for some reason I wasn’t owed. The reason my parents were murdered.

“Tell her! How even though you knew her mother had no interest in my uncle, you still planted those seeds into his head that got her parents murdered..you knew he couldn’t take her rejecting him and you sat back and watched this unfold anyways.”

Sobs escaped your mouth and threatened to choke me with their escape. The truth really did hurt and right not that pain was feeling more physical than mental. All that time without the truth..without your parents. Your child would never know this kind of pain and despair. You pulled the white mohair cardigan tightly around your little bump. You and Terry were going half on God's greatest gift to earth…something to live for and do better for. Your sole reason for wanting to get the hell away from this place. You had done your time here tenfold, it was time to get away and raise your baby with your fiancé.

“Go put your bags in the car baby..I’ll be right behind you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and handed your bags to you.

“Hmm so you just gonna choose that nigga over your own flesh, how are you any different from me neice?”

I rushed over to rearrange her face but Terry grabbed me and pulled me to him. My shaking hands were covered by his large ones and I let their warmth mingled in with his protective gaze soothe me.

“Remember what we’re fighting for, baby. She’s not worth it, you know that, it’s just me, you, and our future.” He bent down into a squat and pressed a kiss to my belly, whispering kind words and affirmations to it.

“That baby will have his last name… his DNA. That’s no family of mine. You leave this house,you're dead to me girl!”

“I’m counting on it.” And with that you grabbed Terry's car keys and slowly carried all your belongings outside. Freedom at last.

__

Terry

“I haven’t heard from Terrell in a week, what did you do to him? I’ll have your body parts scattered from here to fucking South America..don’t test me boy!”

“My uncle is dead..and if you don’t want to meet the same fate as him I’d advise you to watch what you say next Vanessa. This is the bed you made, lay in it.”

“Terrell was a good man! He had his bad days, name a person that doesn’t…he loved me and you took him from me!” More deluded thoughts of “love” but what this really was was a sick obsession.

“My uncle was a sorry ass nigga. A scum that deserved to be wiped clean from this earth…behind her you gotta know I’ll get rid of anybody so please don’t be so surprised.”

Terry stepped into your room and headed to her walk-in closet where she had the rest of her valuables packed and tucked into a corner. He slung the duffel bags over his shoulder and grasped the photo album containing pictures of her and her parents before walking from the room. Vanessa sat in the recliner near the window watching Y/n settle into the passenger seat. Envy written across her face clear as day. She wanted what she couldn’t have, so she had planned to live vicariously through her niece. But those days were over.

“For what it's worth, she really did love you. Long before you broke her heart and crushed her dreams, you meant something to her once upon a time.” She squinted her eyes at him and walked over to stand toe to toe with him. Smoke from her cigarette blowing out of her pity and into his face.

“Get out of my house. And if you or her return to this city I won’t stop her uncles from going after either of you.”

Terry simply smirked to himself before walking away and out into the cold air. The constant purr of his car welcoming him back.

“Where will we go?” He stared into her pretty shining eyes, hands stroking her cheek.

“The time I had to spend away from you…I had something built for us, a haven. I promised you a home to raise our child in, someplace silent and serene. That place is ready love.”

__

“Baby you have to secure her head first..I promise you won’t break her.” You laughed softly at the panicked look on Terry’s face as you slid your one month old daughter into his arms.

Peace and bliss had befallen you and Terry those last months of your pregnancy. As he promised he had you nestled away in the beautiful woods of Fairburn, Georgia. The 3,000 square foot lake house sat on the Chattahoochee River smack dead in the middle of two acres of land ; it had a wrap-around porch and had three bedrooms and bathrooms. Your pregnancy was safe and your baby was healthy because of it, the quiet air surrounding you was a safety net.

You found peace everywhere on the property. Sitting on the front porch sipping your favorite red wine,arranging a savory dinner on the marble island in your kitchen, splashing your feet into the river while your fire pit crackled beside you, or those sweet nights where you laid in bed curled into the hard ridges of your fiancés body. Now your favorite times were spent nursing your daughter Clark, and adjusting to and loving the everlasting changes of motherhood. The love between you and Terry grew constantly and sometimes you’d wonder how it was even possible to love someone with every fiber of your being…how you could love everything about him.

“That little eyebrow arch she does is all you, and she thinks it’s so funny…hi my little dumpling aren’t you just the funniest sweet thing.” Your squeaky baby voice had Terry chuckling as you moved away to prepare her bottle. You poured the cooled breast milk into a four ounce bottle before placing it inside a bottle warmer to be heated. You squirted a bit on your wrist to test its temperature before walking into the living room and handing it to Terry. You watched her as her little hungry coos filled the living room and her tiny hands reached up to pull in her father’s shirt.

You munched on oatmeal chocolate chip lactation cookies and stroked the fine hairs along his neck. “Thank you for rescuing me. All I had to do was mention my situation one time,you never questioned me,never hesitated, all you did was act. I’m blessed that Clark has you for a father, she won’t ever feel what I felt growing up.”

“You thank me? I did what a man was supposed to do love, you don’t see that light around you..that light that binds me to you. I’ve killed for you…and to keep this peace I’d do it again. Because there is no price too high to pay for what you give me, what you just gave me.” He racked down and pecked a kiss onto the baby’s head before pulling you in for a tender kiss.

“We’re raising our daughter together, she’ll always have us…always feel the love we have for her. She's gonna grow up here and never have to lift a finger. She’ll be beautiful and smart just like her mommy because that’s what we intend for her.”

“And so it will be darling…next on our list the wedding”

“You ready to become Mrs.Richmond and give me a bunch of babies?”

“I’ve been Mrs.Richmond since we were seventeen having baseball tournaments in the park.. I loved you then and I still do…and I’ll give you a hundred babies, pretty boy.”

“Mm you want me to lay Clark down so we can work on number two right now..I think she wants a sibling, look at that face.” He held her up and matched the cute pouty expression on her face.

“My baby said no such thing..but mommy does need some loving from daddy. Can you have her down in ten minutes?”

He put her in the crook of his arm and began rocking her slowly. “Make it five, and put that new lace set on…I wanna tear it off you.”

You took off running towards your shared room and slipped into the racy pink set. You sank into the plush bed giggling softly to yourself. Thank god for made men…

__

@kirayuki22 @uniqueoutlierblog @rose-bliss @kaylalb @blackpinup22 @henneseyhoe @slvt4her @ruewritesoccasionally @writingsbytee @melalsworld @mauvecherie-writes @venusincleo @meadowshelby @cocooned-butterfly @playgurlxoxo @piscesdashcam @otfniah @23jammy @that-one-anxious-mango @ch33z3grits @melosliving @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @kenshisluvrgirl @rawflwrs @becauseimswagman1 @ranikyani @blyffe @keehendrixx @ovohanna24 @yassbishimvintage @pocketsizedpanther @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[shysuccubusstuff]

Bodyguard! Mr. Scarlatella:

Content: Yandere! Mr. Scarlatella but he is actually human + assassin + farmer! scarlatella; non proof-reading; female anatomy + dubcon/noncon + kidnapping + usage of substances (once for the kidnapping) + mindbreak + lovesick! Mr. Scarlatella; cunnilingus + breeding kink + baby trapping + possessive! dom + overstimulation + orgasm denial + creampie + impregnation + trophy wife! reader (kind of?)

Summary: You never imagined that the guy that was about to end your father's and your life would end up falling head over feels for you, but hey, at least you're alive, right?...

Word count: 4240 words.

Note: I just hate how my brain decides to get dry af as soon as I end with my exams/essays... btw, Merry Christmas to everyone who reads this!! I'm thinking about making a kind of pt. 2 but with Mr. Crawling, let me know if you would want to read it!! It's weird to go back to the more dark stuff when I had started to write less heavy stuff... I feel I may have gotten a bit too creative for his personality, so let me know!!

Note 2: Let me know if any content tag is missing-- I wrote this over a whole week so I may have forgotten some...

You were the daughter of one of the wealthiest so it was only natural for you to live under the feeling of being targeted by someone, even since you were a child. So when your father presented a new bodyguard for you, it was nothing out of the ordinary, just some new guy who would probably quit by the month (at most). So he arrived, long black hair falling in a cascade and deep purplish pupils that pierced you through his polarised glasses.

"Dear, this is the new bodyguard, I hope you know how to behave yourself, I don't want to keep on complaining to that damn company, they keep saying it's your fault, but it's impossible for it to be solely your fault, I mean, it's been over 10 bodyguards in less than two months... Anyways, I have to leave, Daddy has some work to do." With that, your father left, his expensive cologne lingering in the air as he slammed the door, the new bodyguard still on the entrance of your room, a slightly unsettling smile creeping on his lips as he stood there.

"So you won't even introduce yourself? Seriously, the quality of that damn company is so freaking low... Can't believe they didn't even teach you how to introduce yourself." The man bowed a bit, taking a small notebook and giving it to you. "What the...? So you're saying that you're still learning the language and don't want to mess up? Ugh, ok, whatever. What's your name?" The man with crimson hair refused to speak, stating that he had not received a proper code name yet. "Seriously? Can't even call your name cause they didn't gave it to you, well that's just perfect. Don't bother me, just stand outside or whatever, as if I care." With those last words, the man left, finally leaving you alone in your room. "What the heck is wrong with that dude? I'm gonna complain to that fucking company of security, how am I supposed to trust him when I don't even know his name..."

As time went on, you were slowly able to get to know him, getting to know that he was actually coming from Japan because of some "old acquaintance" he knew since many years ago, that he loved magic tricks and that he was actually quite... cute. It hurt to even think it, but it was true, he was a cute man, always behind you when you allowed him, always running around you with your delicious drink ready and your purse hanging off his shoulder. God, he even learnt how to do your nails, makeup and hair in case you wanted to get it done on the days you were just too lazy to get out of the house... He was even there that night.

You had waken up by around three in the morning, making your way to your door so you could get something to eat in the kitchen, soon noticing that Scarlatella (as you liked to call him in a kind of playful way because of his hair colour) was nowhere to be seen, but hey, he was human as well, maybe he just went to the bathroom or something like that. As you were about to arrive to the kitchen, you noticed that the mansion was a bit too quiet, one would even say that it would have been possible to listen to a pin dropping to the marble ground. Unsettled, you quickly made your way to your father's bedroom, but you soon found out that the bed was completely cold. Now alarmed, you run to his studio, the sound of your feet resonating all over the empty corridor as you forced the door open, soon finding a terrible scene.

It was your father, well, what used to be your father, as his body was already turning cold, his skin turning slightly blue with clear signs of choking. Just as you were about to scream, your vocal cords were unable to produce a sound, your lungs being completely filled with a strange air that made you gasp for hair before you started to feel lightheaded. As you felt your conscience drift, you silently cursed that stupid company and that useless yet slightly charming man.

By the time you woke up, you soon noticed that your whole body was intact, expect for slight marks of rope on your wrists. As soon as you recovered a bit, you took a deep breath, deciding to try and scream to the top of your lungs in case someone could hear you.

"Hey! Someone there? Some crazy jackass has kidnapped me and---!" Suddenly, the heave iron door was opened, a familiar face entering the room.

"Good morning, dearest. I'm so glad you were finally able to open your eyes, you see, it was a bit difficult to get the amount of dose correctly, as I have never tried to keep someone as tiny and beautiful as yourself." Your old bodyguard entered, the heavy door closing behind him as he brought a tray on one of his hands. "Here, I brought you a few things I know you like." You looked at the delicious-looking food, your mouth watering as you saw all your favourite desserts, together with a bunch of your most beloved fruits. Despite the confusion, you tried to keep it together, looking to the other side and refusing to do what he asked. "Dearest, you've been asleep for over t--" Before he could end his sentence, you had already hit the tray with one of your legs, sending the appetizing food.

"Why the fuck are you here? You failed protecting me-- Fuck, you left my father to die, you're lucky I'm tied here cause I would crush your fucking skull with my---" The crimson-haired man got closer, dangerously close, in fact, his warm breath hitting against your face.

"Oh dear, I always knew you had quite the filthy mouth, but you must have been quite shocked to see that pig like that... I understand, I would never stop loving you for something trivial like that... Nor for anything, to be fair." His cold hands touched your face, the callouses in his hands making you frown even more than before.

"Listen fucker---." The man covered your mouth with his much larger hand, the shivers resulted from the cold shifting into goosebumps from the fear.

"Shh, dear. I understand, no need to explain it to me. I will make sure to re-educate you so you can go back to your natural self, that pig tricked your poor mind, but I will be able to fix it for you, see? I’m being such a good man for you, after all, I was supposed to kill you, but I even decided to turn my back to my client and let you live, I even avoided someone to think that you were alive. It was a bit of a hassle, but hey, I would do everything for you, dear.” The man finally got away from your face, taking the tray that had fallen to the ground because of you, together with the food that had been smashed to the ground. “It’s ok, dear. I understand this will take some time, luckily, I have all the time in the world, you just need some… hard love. I’m sure you will start to appreciate my company and care soon enough.” With that, the man smiled one last time to you, leaving the room with the sound of the heavy iron door closing, leaving you in the middle of the dark.

Since that moment, your slow torture started. The man left you in the dark for who knows how long, covering your eyes with a soft cloth, only taking out when he was around so he could start to… kind of associate him with the light, you supposed. He kept bringing you scrumptious plates, from your favourite foods to exotic ones. Of course, that was until the… maybe over tenth time you had throw his tray to the ground. That time, he simply took the tray, taking once again all the food on the floor and leaving in complete silence. The next time you was him was after… maybe one whole day? Your stomach kept rumbling, and what began as anger quickly became desperation, then crying and finally crying while screaming.

By around two months, your mind and body had become completely accustomed to his timetable and behaviour, letting him pet you as you ate what he brought, letting his hands clean your whole body and hair, not even complaining when you felt his hands drift towards your more private parts. Scarlatella looked extremely content with his work, rewarding you with constant praises and even a “pretty” collar for you. Despite it was a clear symbol of your turn into a kind of pet, the collar was beautiful, the gold glistening under the cold light as the beautiful charm with the form of a heart made a small noise of a bell each time you moved.

“Do you like it? I wanted something to congratulate you, after all, you have finally graduated. You are now back to your natural self.” You nodded, letting your head fall on his lap as he kept petting you. “I was thinking about giving you whatever you want, you can just ask.” He waited patiently until you were able to think about something other than the warmth that was coming from his body.

“…Freedom. I want to leave this room, please.” His eyes widened a bit, perhaps surprised that you were still able to think about your freedom.

“Dear, I know this can get suffocating, but you must stay here, it’s for your sa—”

“Please! I can feel my mind… slipping. This is getting worse each day, I… I don’t want do it, but the constant darkness is making me… think about… Just give me a bigger place, I don’t need something as fancy as my house, just something bigger than this room.” Scarlatella looked at you with a puzzled expression, his hand still massaging your scalp as he thought. Finally, he answered, not before letting a deep sigh.

“I suppose that’s fine. I can think of a story to explain your sudden appearance. Give me a few days so I can get everything ready, yeah? Promise I will do it.” As soon as he said that, he got up from the sofa that was in the room, quickly leaving the place before you were able to beg him to keep his promise.

Contrary to what you believed, Scarlatella kept his promise, coming back with a small suitcase and some clothes for you to change yourself, taking your hand as he made you walk with your eyes covered by that well-known cloth. When you were finally told to take it off, you were in the middle of a beautiful flower field. All the flowers were spider lilies, making it seem as if it was some kind of blood-filled battlefield.

“Do you like it, dear? I had to pay some money so they could build this house, together with planting these flowers.” He kept his grip around your wrist tight, not hurting you, but not letting go either. As he opened the door, you finally saw the house. It was a beautiful villa, completely decorated with cottage-like furniture.

“Yes, I like it.” Scarlatella smiled, a strange sheen in his gaze.

Soon, you realised why was he looking at you like that. You had fallen completely into his plan for turning you into his wife. He had created some complex story about you being his wife for over eight years, having to separate because you had been taking care of your sick father while he worked to the bone to get you as much as he could for the moment you came back to him. Everyone in the small hometown believed him, after all, he had been working there as farmer for quite some time, using it as a mere disguise so he could plan every little detail, creating a perfect façade so everyone would simply nod and smile to whatever he said. After that, your role became the one of a housewife, making you bake, cook, and clean, keeping the house warm and tidy by the time he arrived back home.

Soon, the days started to melt together, and your deep engraved hatred for him turned into a less bitter resentment. After all, he was the one that was providing for you, keeping you all warm and cozy while buying every single thing you asked him for, never doing anything that could hurt you. Slowly but surely, your mind started to reshape once again, now seeing him as a still intimidating, yet protecting figure. With that, it was finally the perfect ground for Scarlatella to create his perfect little wife.

Since that moment, Scarlatella started to become more physical with you, helping you around with all the cooking, “accidentally” rubbing his groin against your ass while he pretended to search for something on the top shelf. Not only that, but he made sure you could see him as a capable man, carrying the animals over his shoulder with ease, other times he was simply fixing stuff around the place. But the last moment he needed for your brain to start to see him as a possible partner was when you found him around town playing with the small children from the orphanage. He was surrounded by all of them, lifting them around and making them fly across the hair, his relaxed smile plastered on his face as he tried to make them control themselves as they waited their turn. Your eyes widened a bit, surprised to see him in such a… casual scene. So when he got back home, his working shirt slightly drenched because of the sudden rain that had started quite recently. The shirt was getting clung on his body, making his lean and muscular body stand out even further.

“Hey dear, how was your day? I hope it went great. Sorry I’m late, can’t believe I got caught in the middle of the rain while I was finishing some errands…” As he said that, he made his way around the kitchen, taking off his shirt and leaving it hanging on one of the chairs, surrounding your smaller frame with his arms. “I missed you so much, dear.” You tried your hardest to pretend not to notice, but of course you did, fuck, his groin was rubbing against your ass, and even then, it was clear that he was quite… gifted, down there. Still, you simply tightened the grip on the knife, biting your lips as you kept trying to focus on the food you were cooking.

Ever since that moment, you were no longer able to control yourself, always orbiting around him with your hand tightly wrapped around his arm every single time any other persons started to look way too affectionately at him. Scarlatella quickly noticed this, looking completely pleased with how he had been able to fix your precious little brain into a loving wife. In fact, he even started to pamper you even further, kissing your forehead every morning, asking you to let him shower together… Of course, you said yes.

So then, the two of you entered the bathroom, slowly undressing each other as the water started to warm up. “Love, you look so nice like this… All naked for me… I could just eat you up.” His hand drifted around your body, making your body shiver under his hands, and even if you were about to kiss him, he got away, extending his hand so he could help you get inside the bathtub. “Let me help you, dear.”

As the two of you finally entered the bathtub, he calmly traced your body with the sponge, making sure to scrub your skin without causing any type of harm. Then, he moved to your hair, taking the bottle of shampoo and scrubbing it while he hummed a little tune. Then, he focused on himself, redoing everything he had done to you. As he did that, your naked bodies kept pressing against each other, making you squirm at the slightest touch and forcing you to let small whimpers out every time you felt his lower half rub against your back. Finally, Scarlatella lost his composure as you kept pressing against him on purpose. “Dear… I have a feeling that you’ve been quite, eager to make our relationship more physical, am I right?” His eyes were now fixated on your face, making you feel even more flustered as you avoided his gaze. “Oh sweetheart, if you wanted that, I could have given it to you any time, after all, I do believe it is time we get to expand our little family.” And despite you would have normally shivered in disgust, this idea now started to charm you. So you nodded, accepting whatever he wanted you to do at that point. “Then we should get to business, let me get you ready love.” With that said, Scarlatella finally kissing your lips, his tongue entering your oral cavity as if he had been starving for a long time. “You taste so good… I could stay like this forever.” Scarlatella kept kissing you, his hands starting to glide towards your chest, starting to play with your nipples as his tongue kept exploring your mouth. “Dear… I think we should move to our bedroom; I don’t want your first time to hurt.”

“Oh, that’s fine, not like it’s my first time, you know, I did it a few times before you became my-.” Before you were able to finish your sentence, Scarlatella was already getting the two of you out of the bath, lifting you up and carrying you over to the bedroom he had been preparing for quite some time. Despite his gaze looked a bit crazed out, he let you down softly on the bed.

“It seems I was a bit too gentle with you, that was my fault. I suppose you must prefer someone meaner, treat you as if you were a little fuck toy, I suppose your brain is still not that adapted to having a husband, that’s ok, I will fix it.” With nothing left to say to you, he got on top of you, towering over your smaller body as he started to kiss your neck. “I just wish I could have arrived earlier… Get to be your first, let you make me yours…It’s a shame we had to meet under those circumstances.”  And even regardless his almost apologising words, his actions were crude, clearly showing his uncontrollable desire to make you completely his. “… I should definitely get you pregnant, make sure everyone knows who your husband is, let’s see if any other fucker tries to get with my sweet wife.” As he kept mumbling to himself, his lips started to make a trail towards your chest, moving even further down as your moans got louder. Suddenly, he got away from you for a second, taking something from the small nightstand. Still quiet, he opened the small bottle, letting the sticky liquid help him prepare your pussy for him. “Not like you will need it, apparently you were more prepared than me.”

“Come on, it’s not like we are… fuck, I don’t know, it’s just, it’s not like you are a virgin, right? There’s no need for---”

“I am.” His hands stopped for a second, his fingers a few inches away from entering you. “I’ve been investigating so I could make it as comfortable for you as possible, but that’s ok, I will make sure our next time is perfect… Let’s just use this time for letting you know how this works.” Without further due, Scarlatella started to tease your entrance, rubbing his fingertips against your entrance, while his other hand started to move towards your weak spot, starting to tease your clit as he kept kissing your neck. As the minutes went on, you started to notice a weird warmth inside your cunt, making your tears swell up in your eyes as Scarlatella kept teasing you.

“Stop— Can’t—It feels weird, like really weird, it’s not normal!” Scarlatella smiled wickedly, his eyes darkening as he saw how your pussy kept releasing your sticky fluids, with no shame, he got his face closer, starting to leave kitty licks over your clit before he began to fuck your entrance with his tongue, making you cry due to the overstimulation as he kept stopping just before you could release. This torture kept going for a couple minutes, making you clench the sheets, biting your lips as you kept mumbling barely understandable words: “Please, please… Just—Please! Fuck, please, let me cum, please, please…” Your words kept slurring, making him smile at the beautiful portrait he had been able to turn your gorgeous face into, he caressed your face with one of his hands, his lips still curved into an amused look as your face had become a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva. Suddenly, you felt Scarlatella’s arms wrap around you, lifting you from the bed and letting you lay on his lap, his unclothed erection rubbing against your clit, rocking your body back and forth as he kept taunting you.

“I just can’t believe you preferred some random person over me, love. I’ve waiting for you my whole life, I even learnt all this… tricks to get you to feel as good as possible.” All of sudden, his tip went in, barely letting you get ready as he kept pushing it inside and out, making your eyes water as he kept tormenting you for a few minutes more, his gaze becoming more and more obscure as his erection just kept growing. “Fuck, whatever… I’ll just have to prove you that nobody will ever fuck you like I can, get you pregnant so you can only see me… love me…” His eyes lightened for a second just from the thought, and before you even noticed, your back was once again pressed against the mattress, with Scarlatella towering over you as he was finally able to gradually introduce his whole length, the stretch making you whine and cling to his back. “You feel so good around me, love… Just wait, I’ll fill you up, fill your pretty pussy with my cum so nobody ever tries to get too close to you—You’ll look so pretty with your tummy all round—” As Scarlatella’s hips started to punish your sore cunt, you were finally able to cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs locked around him, as a poor attempt on getting him to stop for a second.

“Wait—Too soon, I can’t get pregnant yet!” You pushed a bit against his lower abdomen, your hands barely stopping him as they kept shaking because of the constant orgasms that just kept pilling up, forcing your brain to become more and more fuzzy each time. It was then that Scarlatella wrapped his own hands around your waists, using them as mere handles for him to push the tip of his cock just a bit further, just enough for you to cum once more with a pathetic whine. Despite you had already cum all over him, Scarlatella’s thrusts didn’t slow down, if not growing stronger as his mind was already too far gone.

“Gotta get you pregnant—That’s all I need—Fill your pretty pussy with my cock and get you to- Fuck- cream all over my cock, that’s it baby… Cum all over your husband, make a mess on my cock, you’re doing so good love…” His words kept resonating in your mind, almost as if it was some kind of chant, and despite you tried your best to endure it, your brain gave up, after all, Scarlatella had been taking care of you so nicely… It wouldn’t hurt to let him keep doing it for the rest of his life… right? As Scarlatella kept muttering to himself, his cock was already twitching, signifying just how close he was to releasing his essence inside of you. With your mind now completely broken, you smiled, your arms and legs tightening around his waist as his cock kept hammering against your cervix, one of his hands carefully pressing against the lower half of your abdomen, causing the pleasure to just build up even further as he finally released his load inside of you, his constant groans now turning into soft praises and kisses. “You did so good, love… Let me take care of everything from now on, I will make you the happiest wife ever, no need to think about anything, just promise to tell me everything you need or want, yeah? I’ll be the best husband int the world.” His hands kept petting your hair as his cock started to deflate inside you, still remaining inside as he refused to pull out in case some of his essence spilled out. “Let’s wait a bit, love. I will prepare the bath in few minutes; I just want to make sure everything goes correctly.” He peppered a few kisses all over your face, his hand rubbing your tummy as he kept imagining that near future he had been longing for.

[dreamwritersworld]

His daughter (sully family x reader)

It was rare for Navi’s to have twins. So with Neytiri’s pregnancy with Lo’ak and Y/n it was safe until it wasn’t, she had almost lost Y/n in her womb. It would’ve left Lo’ak by himself, the rest of Neytiri’s pregnancy was the worst. She knew her baby girl was going to be born weak, so when they pulled her out of Neytiri’s womb it was like they were taking the life right out of her. Neytiri immediately went to grab her, longing for her daughter’s heart beat. Compared to Lo’aks body Y/n was small and fragile..from then on the connection with their daughter was strong, they needed to be in order to keep her alive.

So from then on Y/n was Jake’s baby girl, his precious daughter. It should be noted that she was Lo’aks twin and was raised along side him and Kiri.

Of course as any child would, Lo’ak and Kiri had selective hearing when it came to their father and his many rules growing up. However, Y/n listened. She was the only one out of all three who truly cared about her fathers opinion. In the eyes of the clan Y/n was Jake’s golden heart.

*

“Mhm and Ooo! What is this papa?”

The child had wobbled to her mothers chain of flower, she had planned to surprise the girls with.

“ahhh, that my little one is not for you!”

“…are you sure papa? It looks nice on me.”

Y/n twirled around with the flower crown, smiling with glee and grace.

“It does!! But your mother would kill me if she found out I let you-“

Neytiri had walked through the home before he could even finish his sentence

“Ma’Jake?! You were supposed to hide it!”

“She got a hold of it!”

“It looks amazing mama-”

While spinning however, Y/n fell to the floor and both parents looked at her in disbelief. They froze for a moment waiting for the cry’s to begin..but they never did. Y/n just laughed at herself and laughed at her parents for worrying more than she had. Jake’s smile couldn’t hide, he knew that Y/n was strong and he loved that about her.

*

The only issue with Y/n was that she wore her heart on her sleeve. She loved to love everything in site, and she often gave people the benefit of the doubt. Jake saw that, and he trained her very well. He had her perfected and established to be a role model for the clan. Despite all his efforts, y/n didn’t find it in her heart to view the world as he did. So, he kept a watch fall eye on her to keep her safe, and Y/n was never allowed anywhere without someone around.

*

“I’m going around the village! By-“

“Nope! Not without your sister!”

Y/n had tried her hardest to remain patient with her father, settling on not saying anything and instead holding her frustration in. All she desperately wanted was time to herself; she was exhausted from spending time with everyone.

*

In many ways Y/n knew how to capture anyone’s eye. She was the most vibrant out of all siblings. All siblings remained close, but they had never gotten to the point where they would speak about..the cracks within their house..

*

Jake had been furious that he found both of his sons wondering around the forest, with no care in the world.

“Lo’ak are you stupid?! You were given orders! Stay away from those areas of the forest!..and you! Neteyam how many times do I have to tell you to keep an eye on your siblings!”

Both boys would blink their tears away..

*

It wasn’t just them..

*

Y/n had been eating her dinner alongside her family when an elder adult approached her. They had instructed her to fix something, in an aggressive tone; almost as though they were demanding it be done now. For once, Y/n retaliated gently, slightly annoyed that she was constantly interrupted when she was trying to connect and eat like the rest of the clan.

“Im sorry, can it wait till im done eating? then I’ll be happy to do it! thank you.”

The elder had gotten annoyed because it was the first time, Y/n declined aiding. The women had walked away in a rush, upset at the girl.

The siblings quickly exchanged confused faces about the situation before leaping back into their conversation but Jake couldn’t shake off the emotions he was feeling about Y/n denying the women.

“..that was rude why did you treat her like that?”

Y/n looked at her father with a questionable look..

“She was rude first.”

“So? She is an elder..”

“I said I would get it done later sir, im eating like the rest of you. She can wait.”

“Y/n that is not the behavior you should be having towards the clan.”

The pair had went back and forth in hushed voice as the rest of the family watched.

“..why is it that she can toss orders at me and you can be completely fine with it?”

“Y/n you can’t be talking back to me-“

“Can our daughter not eat in peace Jake? Please can the both of you be quiet.”

The pair turned to Neytiri and all Y/n could do was pass a gentle smile at her mother, glad she had stepped in. It was very rare that Neytiri ever did. Both Y/n and Jake were so used to getting what they wanted, that the pair would often clash heads…

*

The arguments didn’t start until Y/n got older. She had gotten so eager to finally go out by herself and be more independent. That’s just the person Y/n was, she was willing to take risks and adventure. Funny enough Lo’ak was the same, yet he got away with majority of the things he did because it was expected of him. Y/n always had to come back home looking the same as she did before she left. Not a hair or seam in her outfit out of place, if Jake knew she did anything he wouldn’t approve of he’d be furious.

To Y/n , that was the most frustrating thing of all. Everyone of her siblings would be able to go out, except her. She had hated it, she always felt watched. When the people came up to her she felt as though she couldn’t truly connect, she was absolutely terrified of the things they’d tell her father if she did.

For her father’s approval, Y/n conquered more than you can imagine. She had more talent in her body at her young age than any male soldier.

You can only imagine how eager Jake was to leave the forest. His sacred children were held at gunpoint, what more of a signal could there be as a warning to go?

So the family left their home; tears fell from everyone’s eyes as they were now torn away from their friends and families. Y/n eventually grew with excitement and encouraged the rest of her siblings to feel the same, she knew something good was coming. Eywa was going to treat them to a reset button.

When they arrived on the island Y/n stood tall and confident. The clan looked at them with the most disgusted faces, confused as to why they were there and what they’d be asking for..

Time had passed and when Ronal got to Y/n, she didn’t hesitate to poke at her body. She had no shame in Critiquing it, in-front of her people…

“This child! She won’t last-“

Neytiri hissed, frustrated at Ronal for even implying that. Jake had told her to calm down, yet again putting his foot down.

“Do you think this is what we want here? Your children’s bodies won’t survive in our ocean, their demon blood runs thick..”

Ronal continued by picking at Kiri and Lo’ak next.. degraded was an understatement of how Y/n felt. She looked at the crowd furiously, until her eyes settled on a boy who had just came onto shore. He had teased her siblings here and there before meeting her eyes.

Ao’nung could feel the madness within her eyes, how fragile and frightened this experience was for her. Those eyes told everything. He had made the abrupt choice to put the teasing to an end, deciding it wasn’t worth it. Nothing could perfectly describe the way Ao’nung viewed Y/n , she was breathtaking to him. Different than the rest of the Navi’s but comforting.

When he was walking them to their Mauri he had gotten quiet, glancing at her the entire walk. She looks so comfortable in her skin, confident even! But when you took one look at her eyes it was like they captivated you and told you her life’s story. He was so interested in her background..

Y/n had remained quiet the rest of the night, she was excited before but now…the anxiety and sadness settled in. She missed the forest, she missed home. Y/n missed it so much that she regretted being at least a little excited, she threw herself to go back to grieving. All her siblings seemed eager to learn, but she knew that if she didn’t get any of it right or if her father didn’t think she was trying hard enough he’d made her relearn to all over and over again.

So there she was, picking at her food…fighting the tears. In that moment she realized she pushed those excited emotions on herself, at home she had a role to withold and the people were always so eager to speak to her. Maybe she took it for granted sometimes but, she would always take the time to say hello and ask how everyone’s day was.

“Y/n? Y/n? Y/n!”

She had been pulled out of her transit once again.

“Yes?”

“I know it’s hard. But we can’t sit at the table with upset faces. When you’re out there? You smile. When they don’t smile back? You smile. Even when They’re not here you must smile. they cannot know you have a distasteful thought while being here.”

She was mad. Mad that he was still holding his guard up. Upset that he had managed to order her around even when he wasn’t trying to. Frustrated that he couldn’t see that they should be allowed to grieve the loss of their home. Neither of them realized how exhausted and how easily irritated both of them could get after the amount of traveling they did.

“No ones here except family-“

“So? Your siblings feel your emotions! You’re making everyone upset.”

“How is that my fault? I’ve been trying-“

“Well try harder! Cause that face isn’t showing it.”

Those furious tears fell from her eyes as she stared at her father. He wanted to control everywhere she went, and now he wanted to control her emotions.

“..Well you can’t go around acting like that either..”

“Don’t cry now Y/n.”

“Yup, that’s me being dramatic. Once again, father knows everything!”

“I know everything! Because I do everything.”

Y/n got up from her spot and walked away from her meal, exhausted from her father. She was beginning to get the strength to just forget pleasing him. Y/n no longer wanted to be her father’s golden child, it had gotten so bad he’d even describe her as a burnt out star..

Even when it was visible Y/n no longer wanted to argue, Jake kept pushing and he followed her as she attempted to walk away.

“..cause you don’t let me do anything! I could help more if you just let me go!”

Neytiri gasped, fear reaping right out of her. What she feared was true, Y/n did notice how tight Jake held onto her, and she felt suffocated. The true truth was right between her words.

“Please the both of you are just tired, finish eating.”

“No Neytiri. I’m tired of this behavior. Y/n! With the way you’re acting, you are doing the opposite of help!”

Neteyam grew accustomed to taking the siblings out the room when anyone was arguing with father, he knew because it’s what he would’ve wanted. The most harshest punishments come from their father.

“I’m doing the best I can! What else do you want from me?!”

“I want you to be better! And to maybe spend some time thinking about how you’re effecting this family! I can’t keep arguing with you! This year has been a wreak! And it started with you, constantly acting out. You don’t get to be sad when you became reckless with the clan when they needed you.!”

Y/n started at her father for a brief moment, she gave her heart a moment to break. The clan meant everything to Y/n and yes, sometimes recently she had denied their demands to stay late and aid within their homes simply because everyone has their moment when they were tired of everything. The face of betrayal came across her face once again..

“…you may tell me how to shoot a gun, or train or who I get to hang out with, but you don’t tell me how to grieve my home and clan! I’m done with this conversation.”

“Oh!! Now I get it, this is about your training, that you fell down from!”

“Oh my goodness! This has nothing to do with my capabilities! But since we’re on the subject just because I mess up with small details, doesn’t mean that I won’t succeed in life! You do not get to tell me that!”

“I get to tell you all of it! Because I made you! Remember that Y/n!”

“Yea dad…you made me..okay..that’s fine..”

Neytiri wanted to cry at seeing her daughter’s shoulder weaken, her posture fall with her tears, and her hair detach from her scalp once again since she had run her hand through it. The volume in her voice got low and cracked, her daughter had accepted defeat in Jakes argument.

The siblings walked back in and watched Y/n walk into a dark corner of the Maui, turning her back to her family..

They sat there and didn’t bat a word at Jake, simply gotten used to his behavior and treatment of Y/n. They didn’t believe he was right for it, but what can you do when you know she’s at least fighting for herself? All siblings and mother accepted that she would never change.

Y/n laid there weeping silently, allowing her body to fall into a deep rest she needed badly.

!💗!

HEYYYY HOPE YOU LIKED IT MWAH!!!

@venomsvl

[inthelibrarybtw]

back to shore | r.c

RAFE MASTERLIST

pairing: bsfb!rafe x kook!reader

summary: A few hours could define anything and he wasn't going to let go that easily. He couldn't give up that easily, whatever the outcome was going to be, he was going to be there. Maybe the waves were going to be kind this time and allow him to bring you back. To bring his home back. part two of this.

word count: 3.9k

content: cursing, angst, inaccurate weather/ocean talk, Christian faith, prayer mentioned, talks of death, loss of a parent, CPR, medical terms may not be 100% accurate, crying, trauma.

authors note: I teared up again but this time it was for different reasons. I hope it makes sense I'm very tired, so excuse me.

Rafe returned to where the Coast Guard and the police had settled on the beach. It was around 2 AM, and he had decided he would go back home, grab his boat, and then look for you. He didn’t care if he died from exhaustion; he needed to know he at least did everything he could to find you. 

He was acting impulsively, but he also needed to be cautious. What if he found you? You would need medical attention. So, he went to tell Shoupe what he was going to do. Shoupe knew better than to try to reason with Rafe in this situation, so he gave him a radio to communicate with them just in case. 

As he drove back to his house, he felt the need to cry one more time. Your things were in his car just as you had left them, but you weren’t there. He took a deep, shaky breath and left your things right where you left them because you would come back and move them if you wanted. You were coming back. You had to come back. 

He got into his boat, and before he could even get the keys into the ignition, he cried one more time. “Please let her be alive… please.” 

He took another deep breath, wiped his tears, and drove away. He started close to where the police had already checked. But they could’ve missed you, so he checked again. He kept listening to the radio; he didn’t care because none of the words coming out were “we see something” or “we found her.” 

He stopped for a few minutes to gather himself. He was starting to feel desperate. Very desperate. It was supposed to be just a nice day at the beach, but nothing went as planned. It was like the world was playing him a cruel joke, laughing in his face because he took too long to ask you to be his girlfriend. If he had just asked earlier, he would’ve enjoyed more time with you as his girl. And now you were still his girl because you were alive. You had to be alive, or he was going to lose all sense of living. 

He wished he was joking or exaggerating. That statement was loaded, but you were everything he never thought he was missing. You were his reason to smile, to keep going; he would do anything for you. Anything but live without you, because a life without you was nothing. You had always been there; maybe he found you annoying when you were kids, but that was then. He was little; all the girls were annoying to him.

He loved you. He had always loved you; it took him a while to get there, but he eventually did. He didn’t know a life without you. He didn’t remember when you were born, but he knew he was two when you and Sarah were born. Some pictures proved it—pictures in which he was sitting between two baby girls: Sarah and you. Your mom and his mom were best friends, so, of course, having baby girls a month apart was the dream—best friends birthing best friends. At first, it was just a little joke, but it became a reality.

So yes, maybe there had been a time when he didn’t have you, but to be fair, he couldn’t even recall those times. He remembered meeting Sarah, vaguely, but he remembered. He recalled more when he was four and two little girls were babbling and running around, taking his toys. Or when he was eight and two six-year-olds wouldn’t let him be at peace. Or when he was ten, at a birthday party to which you had also been invited. You gave him his gift and a small hug that your mom had made you give him, but it made him blush, so he just left. He also remembered going to at least one homecoming with you in high school. Sarah had begged him to invite you because she was dating Topper, and she wanted to have her best friend close by just in case something happened, so he did. By this point, you two had started talking more, so he didn’t need much convincing. 

Again, Rafe didn’t know a life without you, even if he tried to remember those first two years of his life. You were there as a baby, toddler, kid, pre-teen, teen, and adult. He never wanted to know a life without you, so he prayed again and again, pleading with God to please keep you alive or bring you back to life. He needed to hear you one more time, to see you one more time. He just needed time. He just needed you.

He thought back to his mom. Losing her felt much like what he was feeling right now. He had been 19 when she died in a car crash, a drunk driver. He hated remembering that moment. He couldn’t lose the only person who had stood by him during that time, because now, who would be there for him? He would break. He wouldn’t be the same, and he didn’t think he would survive. Losing his mom had caused enough pain. He didn’t need to lose the love of his life too. That would be too much pain for someone to endure. 

He would love to have his mom at that moment. She would’ve gone with him in that boat. She would be there with him, looking for him. Maybe she was. He always told him that his mom was always looking out for him, keeping an eye on him, and helping from heaven. Because that’s where she had gone—heaven. Where else would his mom go? The best mother in the world, in his world, had to have gone to heaven. He wiped his tears again. Thinking back to his mom was not helping at all. He just wanted to cry more because it hurt. And it scared him to have to deal with another loss.

“Please, Mom, help me out here… She believed you were always with me, so I will believe. Help me, help her.” Lost in all his thoughts and talking to himself, he didn’t notice when he had gotten so far from where he had originally started.

—

You were coming in and out of consciousness. You didn’t know what time it was. Water kept hitting your legs. You were shivering. It was extremely cold. You remembered wanting to move, scream, and pee; maybe you had done it. Or had it been a dream? You didn’t recall. Everything was blurring together. You had dreamed of Rafe, your friends, and your family. That was the only thing you knew for sure. In the dream, it was a warm Christmas. Hot cocoa and cuddling with Rafe. Gifts, parties. New Year's. Fireworks—bright and loud.  

A flash.  

Light.  

Has that happened? Or had that just been your brain playing games with you? Had that flash come from somewhere, or was it part of your memories, and were you hallucinating? You wanted to move to check, but you felt heavy. It hurt to breathe, but you still did it, opening your eyes. Again, just rocks, water, and the sky.  

A light. A flashlight, to be more specific. With whatever energy you had left, you were going to try to scream or make some noise in hopes of being found, even if it meant dying. At least someone would find you.

—

Rafe pulled out his flashlight to illuminate the area further. There were many rocks, and the water was a bit calmer there, but it was still pushing the boat to the right. He kept directing the flashlight at the rocks.  

A splash. Not a water-hitting-the-rocks splash. An intentional one.  

A noise. An animal? It didn’t sound like one; it was a peculiar noise. He tried to see where those sounds were coming from. A small but strong wave hit his boat and pushed him further to the right.  

Another splash. Another noise.  

—

The light on your face. 

You scrunch your face, and you hit the rock where you were sitting once more. 

—

He pointed his flashlight at the source of the noise.  

Another splash.  

Time stood still, yet he reacted and brought his boat as close as he could. He got off the boat. The water was freezing, but he didn’t care. He needed to get to you, to ensure he wasn’t imagining you there, and to help you. God, he needed to make sure you were okay.  

You felt a surge of strength. Adrenaline, maybe. You tried to move, but your body felt numb from the freezing water you had been in for hours. In any other circumstance, you would make a joke about being left to marinate, but right then, you needed to reach for him.  

He got to your side and didn’t speak; he just reached for you, and you could swear your body sensed it before your brain could register that Rafe was there, and it was real. It was real because the pain was there, the numbness was there, and it was too cold for this to be a dream.  

He had no idea how he did it, but he got you to the boat. He felt your cold body against him and your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you. He didn’t understand why you weren’t shivering anymore; you were freezing. Once in the boat, it was as if your body knew you were safe again, and you collapsed.  

Rafe’s eyes widened, and he grabbed the radio Shoupe had given him.  

“Found her,” he said in a shaky voice, “She—she collapsed, she…”

"Copy, we are sending people to your location."

He didn’t remember ever giving them the location, but at that moment, he didn’t care how they knew. The important thing was that they knew and they were coming. He got close to you again, softly tapping your cheeks. 

“Princess, wake up for me, please. Y/N, come on, baby, wake up.” He checked your pulse; it was weak. “No, no, no, you’re not doing this to me. Come on, pretty girl, wake up.”

You were breathing slowly, and your heartbeat was slow and weak, but it was there. He wrapped a towel he had in the boat around you to try and warm you up. The paramedics arrived quickly, starting to stabilize you and checking for major injuries. They removed the towel to use insulation blankets and placed an ambu bag over your face to help you oxygenate better.

Rafe didn’t hear anything they were saying; he was focused on you. One of the paramedics drove his boat back because he was not leaving your side. He wasn’t even processing what was happening. The only thing he heard was that you were alive, had some degree of hypothermia, and needed urgent medical attention.

He held your hand the entire ride back to the beach, throughout the ambulance ride, and only let go once you reached the hospital. They had also given him an insulation blanket, and one of the nurses brought him scrubs to wear as dry clothes. They were rolling you away on the gurney when your vitals started dropping. Rafe felt as if his heart had dropped to his feet.

After intubation and warm IV fluids, you were stable. You had some internal injuries—a concussion, some bruising, and water in your lungs—but with proper oxygenation and medication, you were going to be okay. The cut on your hand from the rock was cleaned and stitched up. Only two stitches were needed. What was more concerning was your body temperature, so they were working on warming you up so you could regain consciousness. But the most important thing was that you were alive.

After Rafe changed into dry, warm scrubs a nurse took him to your room. Seeing you with all the tubes and connected to different machines broke his heart. You were back, but it still didn’t feel like you were. He knew it was you; he recognized his girl, but this was just half of who you truly were. He was still worried for you because you hadn’t woken up. He needed to hear you, see your eyes again, to be able to breathe in peace once more.

—

Your parents had arrived, and the doctor filled them in on what had happened. Rafe hadn’t been made aware of your parents' arrival. When the doctor called him out, he reluctantly let go of your hand, but he knew your parents needed some time alone with you. When he stepped out of the room, he was met with the embrace of your mother. 

“Thank you for saving my baby girl,” she said, her voice a bit choked. Rafe didn’t feel like he had saved you; he felt like he had failed you by allowing this to happen. “You found her and she’s safe again,” your mother said, holding back her sobs. 

“I…” Rafe trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to share or say to your mom. It had been too much in a very short time. He was tired, both physically and emotionally. He needed to sleep; maybe he wasn’t completely aware of it, but his body was. 

“We can stay with her; go rest. She needs you to be well-rested.” Your mom squeezed his hand, letting him know it was okay. He just nodded before walking back to his car. He hugged your parents goodbye and made his way to his vehicle. 

One more time, he turned to see your things on the passenger seat. You were coming back to pick them up. This time it was certain; he didn’t know how soon, but it was going to be soon. He hoped it would happen soon.

—

Rafe got back home. How? He doesn’t remember, but he returned in one piece. When he entered his room, he saw something he had forgotten was there: a necklace, your necklace. Well… you were yet to know it was yours. After dinner, he planned to take you back to his place and give you that necklace. You had always told everyone that you wanted an initial necklace, but only if it came from the right guy. You had also mentioned that you wanted to receive it the day you got engaged to ensure it was a forever thing. Rafe knew he wasn’t proposing, at least not yet, but the necklace was a promise that he would propose someday.

The necklace was his promise to you: to love you forever, to stand beside you, and to eventually make it a forever thing. It was a promise that he not only wanted you as a girlfriend but also as his wife. He wanted to grow old with you and experience life by your side. There was no other person he wanted or needed. So whenever you decided to wake up, he would be there waiting for you, necklace in hand.

—

Three days. Three long days had gone by, and you were still not waking up. The doctor had said it was normal; your body needed to rest from all it had gone through, so it was just a waiting game now. Rafe was struggling with his lack of patience, while your mother kept reminding him that you were okay and doing better. You no longer had a tube down your throat to help you breathe; you had a cannula to maintain oxygenation, an IV to provide fluids, medication, and anything your body might need.

Rafe had gone back home after spending the morning with you. He kept busy with things when he received a call. Your mom was calling him, he picked up immediately.  

“She’s awake and asking for you.”  

He forgot how to breathe at that moment. You were awake and asking for him. You had finally woken up. You were okay. His vision blurred, and he smiled.  

“I’m going right now,” he said before ending the call. He grabbed everything he needed and ran to his car.

The ride to the hospital was something else. He was probably going to get a few speeding tickets, but he didn’t care; in fact, he was happy to pay the fines. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. You were awake and asking for him, so everything else was not important. Even in all the chaos, he bought you food and flowers. You had to be hungry.

He ran as much as he could, and as much as the nurses let him to get to your room. When he stepped in, it was as if time stood still. Your eyes met his, and you were faced with the very blue eyes you had fallen for; this time, they were as watery as yours. 

You both smiled and cried. Your mom grabbed the things he had brought and placed them on the table next to the hospital bed; afterward, she left the room so you two could have a moment. He didn’t waste time and sat on the edge of the bed to hug you. One hand rested on your back, and the other cradled your head, while your arms rested on his shoulders and were looped around his neck.

“Princess…” he said in a shaky voice. “You gave me the biggest scare of my life.” He pulled back and cupped your face. You held onto his wrists. “You’re here… you’re back.” You just nodded and gave him a sad smile.  

“I thought I was going to…” You couldn’t finish your sentence because you broke down. “I was so scared.” With that, Rafe broke. He held onto you as you both sobbed. He kissed the top of your head over and over again to comfort you.

“You’re safe, baby… I’ve got you; just let it out,” he rubbed your back in circles.  

“I didn’t want to die… I didn’t want to leave everyone. I was scared,” you said between sobs. “I—” he cut you off gently.  

“Baby… breathe with me. Can you do that? I need you to breathe,” he waited for you to mimic him, and when you finally did, he had you do it again and again until you were breathing better. “There you go…” he cupped your face again.  

“Are you okay?”  

“Baby, you are the one in the hospital bed; I should be asking that,” he chuckled softly. “Now that you’re awake, I’m good. How are you feeling?”  

“I’m alive…” you said in disbelief.  

“Yes, you are; thank God you are,” he said with so much emotion, and you nodded.  

“Yeah… He kept me alive, and then you found me…”  

“Yes, He did… He kept you safe just like I prayed for,” he confessed before kissing your forehead. “Fuck… I thought I lost you…” he said, trying not to cry again. “I can breathe again now that you’re back.”

—

That afternoon, he spent it with you, holding your hand, helping you eat, and just keeping you company. You still needed a lot of rest to recover from what had probably been the worst experience of your life. While you were sleeping, he pulled out the little velvet box that contained the necklace. He didn’t want to wait any longer; he had waited enough, but he also knew this wasn’t the best moment.  

“Hope this is not how you’re proposing,” you said as you began to wake up from your nap.  

“Hey there…” he said with a soft smile as he gently brushed away a strand of hair from your forehead. “Not proposing yet, princess, but I do want to give you something…”  

“Yeah?” you asked in a whisper, adjusting the bed to see him more comfortably.  

“Yeah… I can’t wait any longer. You have no idea how much I regret not asking you to be my girlfriend months… hell, years ago. I almost lost you, and we just started this. Y/N… I love you, and I know you know that, but I will keep saying it for the rest of my life. I love you with all I am, and I always will. I have loved you since before I knew what love was, but you are the only person I want to share the good and the bad with. I want us to grow old together, to fight, laugh, cry, and enjoy every little thing life throws at us.” He paused. “I’m not proposing yet, but I will. Eventually, I will, but this…”

He opened the velvet box, revealing the necklace inside. The letter "R" in the center made your heart melt, and you smiled, wanting to cry again but for different reasons. “Rafe, this is…”

“I know you said you wanted this the day of the engagement, but this is my promise to you that I will do it. In the meantime, you will wear this not because I own you, but because I know you and I love you, and I don’t want you to ever forget or doubt it.” You smiled and cried at the same time.

“I love you so much, Rafe,” you paused to take a breath. “I will never stop loving you; you are the best thing that has ever happened.”

With that, he kissed you ever so gently, scared he might break you. When he pulled back, he wiped the tears that had fallen down your cheeks. He smiled at you and helped you put on the necklace.

The journey to that moment had been anything but perfect, but both of you felt at peace again. Maybe the beach would never be your happy place again, maybe you would eventually walk by, but you would never set foot near the water again. Rafe would never let you go somewhere if you didn’t feel like going anymore, and this rule also applied to him.

He couldn’t risk it, not anymore. He needed you to be alive and safe, and he needed to be there for you. He was scared of losing you, but he was equally scared of not being there to protect you if you ever needed him.

 You were back, and he was going to make sure you never went away again. You were his home, and he was yours. He would never leave your side, and you would never leave his. The connection you two had was beyond comprehension. Your parents were shocked at how easy it was for you to do all the physical therapy when Rafe was around, and how easy it was for you to fall asleep when he was there. All the nightmares of that day at the beach were gone every time he slept next to you. He always said you were everything he never knew he needed, but it was the same for you; you never thought you needed someone like him until you couldn’t picture a life without him. 

Life without him was not life for you, and life for him without you was not life. This chance you had gotten to keep on living, you were not going to take it for granted. It was not just about Rafe; it was about the people you loved and about your hopes and dreams. So whatever was in your future, besides a life with Rafe, you were going to enjoy it, good and bad, surrounded by your people.

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[anjelicawrites]

Days back home

Paring: John Price x wife!reader Synopsis: your husband John is finally back from deployment.

Warnings: angsty sex, P in V sex, cuddling, idiots in love, domestic John, kissing, handjob, crying, a bit of daddy kink, John is bad at compartimentalizing, John doesn’t know how to relax.

A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns used when needed.

You hear the rustling of pots and pans from the bedroom. Still half asleep you grab the cricket bat hiding under the bed, thinking Intruders! Before you realize how silly the idea is: are those intruders going to make themselves breakfast while ransacking your home?

Still brandishing the bat, just in case, you make your way downstairs, trying to be as silent as possible in your socks; with your shoulder you open the door connecting the corridor to the kitchen, just a crack, to check who’s at home with you, only to see the back of John’s body, clad in a green T-shirt and jeans, his ridiculous hat forgotten on one of the chairs; he’s making his ‘I’m back home pancakes’ while listening to the radio, the kettle already on the stove.

NSFW and 18+ only please!

“So, this is how I am welcomed back home?” He quips.

You have married the biggest idiot on earth and you wouldn't change him for the whole world.

You abandon the bat next to the door and leap to hug him from behind, smelling him in, feeling his hard body against your own, after too long.

He smells fresh, you know he has had a shower before driving back to you, because he doesn’t want to soil your shared sanctuary with his work; he still berates himself that he and his team had crashed your practice and that those were the circumstances he’s met you.

“You know me, I’m always ready.” You answer, taking another whiff from him, your hands sneaking to his front. “Welcome home my love, I think I will have to have words to whomever is in charge of the rations you eat: you’ve lost weight baby, I will need to fatten you up once again.”

He laughs, under your hands his muscles rip.

“I don’t think Major Williams would survive that.”

Swiftly he deposits another pancake on the pile standing on his left. Before he can pour some more batter on the pan, you lift your arm to his nose.

“Do I still smell like barn? I was on call and was out most of the night. I did take a shower but all I can smell is wet hay.”

His right hand wounds around your wrist, warm and calloused against your soft skin, to keep you still as his nose is filled by the sweet scent of honey; this is an inside jokes of yours, that he sticks to the neutral smell of his army mandated soap, whilst you try every different shower gel you can get your hands on, with various results. This time is nice, he likes how honey complements your natural scent, other times not so much, like the body wash that was supposed to be lemon, but smelled like dish soap, or the obnoxious candy one that’s still hiding somewhere in the guests’ bathroom.

“Any adorable litter of kittens?”

“No, twin calves, pretty fast and incredibly both born alive, and one of the Jenkins’ sheep that kept me up all night. I got into bed a couple of hours ago.”

John turns in your embrace, his big hands finding home on your hips.

“My capable vet, looking after all creatures, great and small.”

“Very funny, mister, I’m in a puddle of laughter.”

But there is a smile on your face that echoes his own: you have missed him, and the small quips you share.

It’s still too cold to eat breakfast in the garden, but there’s enough light that it bathes you both as you two sit at the table by the windows, your legs on his thighs, his hand caressing your calves in between bites as you both demolish the astounding amount of pancakes John has made.

“Go back to bed, love.” He tells you. “I napped on my way back. I’ll do a couple of chores around the house.”

You look at him, taking him in: he’s not antsy, but he’s thrumming with all the nervous energy from combat that needs to be released. There isn’t much to do around the house, but this wouldn't stop John from picking up random jobs, or even call at work to see if he’s needed back at the base, until you know he will simply crash and burn, utterly spent and miserable.

“I don’t think so, mister.”

Neither of you wear the wedding rings usually. You work with animals all day and for John is more of a security breach issue, the chance for someone who doesn’t belong to the small circle of people he trusts, to know about you.

For this reason you’re the ring bearer, keeping your engagement and both wedding rings on a thin, long chain usually worn under your clothes; the other tradition that marks John’s return home is you two exchanging them again.

You have to fiddle with the clasp for a moment, before you can release everything on the table, in between tea mugs and plates.

Your rings look so small in John’s thick fingers. Carefully he picks the engagement one, inherited by the male firstborn in his family to pass down the first son and slips it on your extended ring finger; a smile crinkles the sides of his eyes when you put his ring on his finger, stating your claim once again. He’s so used to be Captain Price that he forgets he has space where he is allowed to simply be John, your husband who has missed you dearly and who wants to make sure you will always have everything you desire.

“The house is fine.” You say with a smile. “The random dead light will not kill us all. Same goes with whatever is going on at the base: you and the boys did your job, now it’s time for others to do theirs. Come to bed with me, I have missed sleeping in your arms.”

John’s body is tired, the small nap on the flight back has barely scratched the sleep deprivation of the last weeks, but his brain is still running, still analyzing all the information harvested, still valuating all the plans he’s come up with, still trying to answer the age old question: will he be able to do better next time?

“I would like my husband back.” Your free hand finds his to squeeze his roughened palm.

“He’s here.”

“In body. Where is his mind though?”

He knows you’re right. When he’s out on the field, or simply at the base, it’s easy to let go of his civilian life; he can’t say the same when he’s home, his brain doesn’t compartmentalize the way it should.

“Not here.”

He pulls on your arm until you sit on his knees, your head on his shoulder, staring at him with half lidded eyes filled with love.

You’re full and nuzzle your face against his chest when he tries to feed you some more, mumbling ‘your loss’ at your refusal: you’re just happy that he’s back, unscathed and that you can have this slow morning where life isn’t intruding and you two can be fools in love.

You fall asleep like this, lulled by the sun shining through the windows and John’s comforting smell, his warmth creating a safe cocoon where you can huddle.

You don’t feel his kiss on the top of your head, nor the silent way he carries you bridal style up the stairs to your shared bedroom, where he deposits you on the unmade bed, careful to cover you with the light duvet; he stares at you and the way you curl on his side of the bed, in your sleep you’re still seeking his scent, even though the pillow must have lost it.

The weight of the chores he knows are waiting for him around the house is pushing him to go downstairs and busy himself, making sure you have nothing to do today and tomorrow; it’s the way he’s been raised, in a house where being lazy was never an option.

Life with you is different, it clashes, sometimes, with his training and his upbringing, with whom he’s become, with his heart missing you, his skin hurting now that it’s not in contact with yours: so easily you break him down and reshape him in the man you love.

He doesn’t jostle your body when he slides under the duvet and arranges your limbs so that you’re hugging him and your face sits against the hollow of his throat, your breath a soft tickle against the sensitive skin there.

A smile finds its way on his face when you wriggle closer to him, almost as if you want to meld your body to his and he hugs your tighter, until there’s no space left between you two, only the cotton of the sleep clothes you’re both wearing.

When he wakes up you’re staring, owlishly, at him: you must have awoken not too long ago.

“I need to do something.” You mumble.

Before he can answer, you wriggle in his embrace to kiss the freckle on his nose, then you nod to yourself, proud.

“I missed doing this.” Your face finds home against the hollow of his throat, again.

His arms curl tighter around you, his nose in your hair to smell the familiar scent of your shampoo.

“I love you.”

His heart still misses a beat when he says those words.

Before you, he had never had the courage to say it out loud to a partner, you have unlocked that in him, not sappiness, but honesty.

The two of you spend the afternoon pottering about the house, him changing a couple of light bulbs and writing down the grocery shop list for tomorrow, before you entice him to lay on the sofa with you.

“You don’t have to earn your down time, you know?”

“I do.” Not exactly a lie, but he’s an old dog still trying to learn new tricks.

“Just saying.”

He moves the two of you around so that you’re laying with your back against his chest so that he can read the book you two have started before his deployment; nothing too high stakes or complicated, a simple story with simple threads he can pick up after a couple of sentences.

“Shall we go to the farmer’s market tomorrow? After we go grocery shopping? Alfred is going to be there with his honey.”

Alfred being your mentor, the vet who had founded the practice you now own who, at the ripe old age of eighty years old, had finally decided to retire and follow his new calling: beekeeping.

“Sounds lovely.”

John likes the old man, he’s straightforward and with a dry sense of humor that reminds John of the captains he had served under when he was a lieutenant.

Seven pages down and a couple of chuckles on your part, you close the book to stare at him.

“I think there’s something going on between my vet tech, Johnny and Simon. Don’t laugh!”

“It wouldn't surprise me. Those two are a package deal, or are each other’s ‘Your friend Steve’”

“You should have told me! I had to ask my vet tech because I felt there was something fishy going on!”

“You didn’t!”

“I did. Asked if the men knew about one another and got lectured about polyamory!”

John’s body is wracked by laughter, so much so that he ignores you trying to elbow him to make him stop.

“It’s not funny John!” He keeps laughing. “You’re horrible!”

His arms lock around you as soon as you try to stand up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” There’s a huskiness in his voice that travels deliciously down your spine.

“Away from my unsupportive husband!” You whine.

His right hand travels leisurely down your body, until he can grab the fat of your thigh to spread you open.

“I think we can reach an agreement, you and I. A way for me to show you how sorry I feel.”

His thick fingers tease the hollow of your thigh, right next where your panties are.

“You should show me, as a proof of your good will.”

His warm lips kiss your neck as his fingers deftly slide under the damp cotton of your knickers.

“As you wish” he growls.

Sleeping back home the first few days is a matter adjusting himself back around you and the quiet of the neck of the woods where you two live: waking up when there’s too much silence or when your body moves next to his, opening one eye, hand ready to grab a weapon that’s not there, only to stop himself before waking you up. There are nightmares, sometimes, that propel him up with a scream locked behind his teeth and his fists ready to strike; those are the nights when he feels remorse at disturbing you with the horrors he carries within himself, those monsters he doesn’t want to bring home to you, but which manage to slither their way inside, scattered away by your hands on his skin and your voice telling him to follow you to the kitchen, that you’re going to make him a nice cup of war milk with honey.

This time there’s no nightmares, only the silence waking him up and the moonlight illuminating your body huddled under the duvet: it’s a warm spring, for the UK, but the nights still carry the chill of winter with them. Without disturbing you, he kisses your exposed shoulder and pulls the covers tighter around your frame, before hugging you as tight as possible, his nose buried in your hair.

Slowly you two approach this new day, your lips on his neck and his hands under your pajamas until his need, and yours, burns too bright to control and he slips inside of you, moaning against your naked chest when your muscles rip around his cock.

He luxuriates in your warmth, when you lock your legs around his waist and tell him not to move, to stay where he is, that you need to feel him. It could be hours when you beg him to move, slow pushed and pulls that bring you to an orgasms that leaves marks down his back, your cunt wounding so tightly around his cock that he spills with a shout.

It’s almost lunch time when you two arrive at the farmer’s market. To John’s dismay you had to use your old truck, the one everyone in the area can recognize, but the road has too many holes for the suspensions of his car to survive.

There’s always a bit of uneasiness on his part, whenever he is out and about with you: he’s trained to look for danger, even when there’s none and his body misses the weight of his weapons, the security they bring him, even more so now that he’s with you, out in the open, where anyone could attack you.

Not that it would happen, being alert is part of who he has become, a nagging guarding dog he can’t put to sleep.

“You happy?” You ask, arms wrapped around his, big smile on your face even though you can feel some lingering stiffness in his body.

“Yes, love.”

He has two jars of honey in a small bag dangling from his fingers, both gifts from Albert who has refused any sort of payment and has roped you two into going to dinner to his place one of these days.

He’s not lying to you when he says that he’s happy. Today the sun is shining, warm against the button down shirt he’s wearing, a trusted beanie to protect his head and you by his side in a nice dress, busy pointing the stalls you want to browse: despite all the food in the trunk, he knows you’ll buy more, just so you can spoil him and fatten him up a little bit, with the excuse that’s homemade and the ingredients are all healthy.

By the time you two walk back to the car, you both are saddled with too many bags and yet he had to convince you to stop buying food, and plants for the garden.

“Do you want to go and eat lunch at that cafe on the river?” He asks after he’s secured all your purchases.

“Are you happy to go?”

You don’t want to push him, you’re well aware that he needs some time away from the crowds to re calibrate; that your man will always be alert is something you have learn to accept, but you could feel him tense up a little too much by the time you were done with the last stall.

“I am.”

Then again, he’s not lying. The guard dog in him still has its bristles up, but John doesn’t want to waste a beautiful day such as today, barricaded at home, not when you look so happy and full of life.

He thoroughly knackered by the time you two make it back home and start putting away everything you have bought. The big lunch doesn’t help with the drowsiness he feels, paired with the sun and the general tiredness left by the last deployment, he’s ready to go lay on the sofa and just watch something inane on the telly, at least for tonight.

He shivers when your hands find their way under his shirt, your body plastered against his.

You follow the shape of his abdominal muscles, more prominent now that he’s lost the body fat you adore so much. Before him, you believed a defined six-pack meant strength, now you know that muscles born from exercise and not aesthetic, come with a healthy dose of body fat, to which you’re now addicted.

“I need you, John.” You purr, kissing his shoulder.

“I’m here.” His voice is gravelly now that your fingers are deftly opening the buttons of his jeans. “Christ love!”

“Let me take care of you.”

Your hand is gently fondling his cock and balls and he’s already a goner: anything you ask you shall receive.

You maneuver his big body to the sofa, where you sit him between your splayed legs, only then you free is half hard cock from the confines of his briefs.

You take your time with him, helping his erection to grow gently, with slow, long strokes from his base to the flared tip, fondling his heavy balls with your free hand, your teeth worrying the soft skin of his nape.

He’s so warm under your skin, his manhood leaking precome steadily on your fingers, his moans music to your ears now that you’re stroking him faster and faster, his strong hips pumping steadily to follow the punishing rhythm you’re imposed him.

“Love!” He groans, after a vicious stroke. “I’m…”

“Come for me John. Make a mess.”

He tenses in your arms, heels digging in the plush carpet as pleasure builds and builds in his gut, his nerves screaming with it, his hands grabbing at your skin desperately, leaving bruises he will kiss, scratching and kneading, moans and curses spilling until pleasure overtakes him, his seed splashing against his belly and your fingers.

“I love you so much, John.” You murmur, helping him ride the last shock waves of his orgasm, milking his cock until his hand grabs your wrist.

He’s panting in your arms, body still shivering, heart beating violently in his chest: you’re going to be the death of him.

His head turns when he hears you licking your fingers and palm clean from his seed, your lips sinfully sucking on your fingers with filthy moans that go straight to his cock.

“Take your clothes off.” He growls.

“Yes, daddy.” You giggle, sliding from behind his burly body.

You make a short work of the dress and your underwear, standing naked in front of him; you feel a special kind of pleasure at being naked while he’s still dressed, long legs spread and arms on the backrest.

He’s devouring you with his eyes, hunger burning wildly now that he’s taken the edge off.

He doesn’t have to ask you to kneel, you do it as if it’s your natural state to be between his legs, tongue busy with cleaning him, kissing his hardening length into fullness again, throat open to receive him.

“Come up here.”

His hand in your hair pulls you up, until you straddle him, wet cunt enveloping his erection.

“I need to feel you.” You beg, drunk already on the pleasure of his head sliding against your swollen clit. “So bad daddy please!”

He has to manhandle your squirming hips until he can impale your body on his cock, molding your hungry cunt around himself, until he can bottom out inside of you, him grunting and you keening like a wounded beast.

“Don’t” You beg when he pushes inside of you. “Let me feel you, please.”

His hands travel to your face, his roughened palms cupping your cheeks to stare into your eyes.

“You tell me when you want me to move, love. Shh, don’t fret. Shh, I’m here.”

His thick arms curl around your trembling body, his lips on the crown of your head to soothe you before you wound yourself up too much.

His voice is deep and calming, like liquor pouring down your throat. It cancels all your needs, your fears of the past weeks; only the gravelly nonsense he’s murmuring in your ear has a place to exist in this bubble, the calloused skin of his hands on the silk of your back tethering you back to him, to the present, where his lips find your collarbone to kiss and nibble and lick, to mark you as his.

“I missed you.”

Tears flow down your cheeks, you’re raw nerves now that your body has wrestled control away from your brain and has thrown to the wind all the reassurances you kept repeating to yourself while John was away.

“I’m here.” He murmurs against your skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“John!”

Your hands find his short hair to pull his head back and slant your lips on his, the kiss desperate and deep, filthy and wet with the salt of your tears.

On him you grind, his fingers tight on the fat of your hips to help you move, faster and faster against his body, clit brushing against the thick air around his base, choking on your words with every clench of your cunt around his cock.

“There! There!” You scream. “Please!”

You fuck yourself on him as if possessed, his cock head presses against your G spot relentlessly, pushing and pushing, throwing you into the depths of pleasure when your body stiffens in his embrace, muscles wounding so tightly around his cock that he comes inside of you, thick sprouts against your battered walls, until he’s spent inside of you.

You’re still trembling in his arms, wet face hidden in the curve of his neck; he doesn’t force you to look at him, he shifts your bodies so that he can hold you tighter, grounding you back into yourself.

“You with me?”

Your try to burrow closer to him, to breathe him in until all you can feel is him.

“Yes.” Your voice sounds small and muffled. “I don’t know what happened. That wasn’t the direction I had in mind.”

He kisses the crown of your head again, until you sit back on his thighs and he can see your wet face.

“I have no idea of what has gotten into me. I was scared, all of a sudden, afraid you would disappear.” You bite your lower lip, face turning to the side. “Jesus John, I’m so stupid!”

“No, you’re not!”

His hands are on your face again, sure they wipe away your tears while guilt nags at him.

When he was on his own it was easier to leave, sometimes for months, he didn’t have someone to go back to, someone who had to bear the weight of his deployment as well; he comes back saddled with all he has to do to keep this world safe, but you have to deal with his absence and what it does to yourself.

Swiftly, without jostling you off your perch, he removes his shirt to wrestle you into it, hoping his smell would help you settle.

“Have you been going to the meetings for the spouses?”

You know what he’s talking about, those hours spent with other wives and husbands and partners of deployed soldiers, simply opening up about your complicated feelings and nagging fears when your loved ones are away.

“I have been going, and it helped. I just…”

Your eyes land on his dog tags half hidden by the furry hair on his chest: all his basic information are there, but he’s so much more than that.

“Let’s get you a shower.”

You know John is strong, that his muscles aren’t for show, but you can’t help the yelp that leaves your lips when he stands up with your legs around his waist and your arms by his neck.

“John! You back!”

“My back has never been better, love.” He winks.

His chest hair are so soft against your front, his hands so strong and secure under your arse; you giggle a little when his fingers start massaging your cheeks, kneading the fat with a pleased hum.

He sits you on the small space next to the sink to open the water in the shower and then he disappears, leaving you questioning what the hell is your husband doing.

He pops back keeping one hand behind his back and motions you to stay silent when you try to ask him what is going on.

“Do you trust me?”

Oh, you shouldn’t fall for the amused glint in his eyes and the way his crow’s feet show, now that he’s smiling.

“John…”

“Close your eyes.”

You don’t know what his plan is, what you’re certain is that he’s trying to cheer you up and your heart is swelling with all the love you feel for him.

You feel and hear his hands rucking the shirt off your body, his fingers steady around one arm to help you navigate the small space to the warm stream.

“Are you going to join me?”

“Just a second, love.”

More rustling as you imagine him getting rid of his remaining clothes; he groans when the warm water hits his skin, the sound so low and primal flies to your cunt.

Then you smell it.

Too sugary, so sweet your nose tickles with it.

“You’re going to stink like that for days!”

John smiles.

“And so will you.”

The blasted shower gel banished to the guest’s bathroom!

John is happy to smell like a full bakery just to make you laugh has you hug him and cover his face with kisses.

“You’re so silly, John!”

“And yours. Never forget that.”