#it’s kinda like when I need a shirt I’ll keep repeating that I need a shirt for like 2 weeks

[changetyre]

Heyyyy I just read something with Lando and he says “I wasn’t asking” and I’m going to need moreeee please & thank you 😍

F*ck you!!! || Lando Norris x Reader ⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: You absolutely despise the way Lando can having you screaming in anger and then pleasure in a matter of seconds…right? Part 1 Here

WARNINGS: **18+**, hate sex

A/N: I love me some hate sex, denying your feelings kinda fics

It was the worse feeling in the world, no doubt. Your first victory was right there, your hands ready to grasp it you could touch it with the tip of your fingers only for it to be ripped away from you.

The race had gone perfectly, exactly as you’d planned both you and your team had done an excellent job in what was undeniably one if the not the best race of your career, making your way up from P12 after a bad qualifying.

No further action

You read and re read the text ready to waltz into that damned stewards office and give them a piece of mind right before lighting the damn building on fire. That’s the amount of rage you felt right now.

Some part of you was absolutely ready to spend the rest of your life behind bars if it weren’t for that idiot of a man you so very much loved to fuck showed up in your drivers room.

“What the fuck do you want?” You scoffed, right about ready to slap him too.

He’d been the cause of it, happily taking the victory for himself without a care that he’d cost you your race and first and well deserved victory completely.

“I came to apologize.” Lando spoke, a smirk on his face that you wanted to wipe off but a fucked up part of you still enjoyed.

“Fuck off.” You shoved him out of the way as you continued grabbing your things scattered around the room to pack them.

“I am really sorry.” Lando repeated.

“Right you really did look sorry when you were happily spraying champagne up on the podium posing for any camera that pointed your way.” You bit back.

“Let me make it up to you then.” Lando grabbed your waist stoping you from moving around the room.

“Don’t touch me.” Lando almost believed you meant it if it weren’t for the fact you made no attempt whatsoever to get his hands off you.

“Wanna touch me instead baby?” That stupid confident smirk appeared on his face again.

“Fuck you!” You huffed angrily looking up at him.

“I bet you do.” Lando laughed before pushing his lip on yours.

You moaned in annoyance but once again didn’t try hard to push him away. Lando basked in the way you accepted it and tried fighting for dominance with your lips which only for today he’d be okay with giving you.

“I hate you.” You whispered as you yanked Lando’s hair back allowing you to trail your lips down his neck.

“I bet you do baby.” Lando only spurred you on as he felt you leaving marks across his skin.

“I do…so fucking much.” You almost moaned the words this time as you ripped Lando’s shirt off him letting your lips continue their journey downwards before yanking his pants down too.

“Show me how much darling.” Lando knew he had to be quiet, despite the fact that your little adventures weren’t secret to many anymore being victims of your loud ventures around the paddock after a day like today it didn’t seem wise to give people more to talk about.

You didn’t feel like prepping him, you quite frankly didn’t care for anything other than taking out your frustration on him, to make him whine and ache at your hands.

So as you began harshly sucking on his length you basked in the way his knees buckled from under him forcing him to find the nearest support to keep himself upright.

He tried to sit down but you were quick to deny him that luxury.

“You sit down and I’ll stop.” You threatened and you reveled in the way he obeyed, straightening up and his eyes begging for more.

Your own cheeks hurt with how hard you sucked him and you knew he wouldn’t last long, and you watched for the tell tale signs carefully.

“Sh*t that’s so good baby.” Lando panted as he gathered your hair in a ponytail.

His head fell back in pleasure, as he tried his hardest to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape his lips.

“I’m almost there…keep going…ah…ugh!” Lando’s groans got louder.

Just as he was about to release you stopped.

“WHAT THE-“ Lando absolutely hated the feeling, the ache that settled in his core with his pleasure being ripped away right at the last second.

“Feels shit doesn’t it.” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“You little-“ Lando hated the fact that he for 1 second believed you’d make him feel good and forget about today.

“Have fun taking care of that.” You poked Lando’s rock-hard dick before getting up, grabbing your bags and leaving him.

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #changetyre #f1fic #f1smut #smut #f1 smut #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #dom reader #dom reader x lando norris

[yourmidnightlover]

needy

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: reader gets xaviers attention and turns to tease him.

warnings: reader rides xavier, sub!xavier, kinda soft dom!reader, teasing hehehe, very soft and giggly aftercare at the end, its short and spicy and sweet

a/n: this is a shrot little smutty blurb with SUB XAVIER bc he totally is. and the votes on my next actual fic has turned to be make up smut SO this is to compromise. we get subby xavier, and make up smut. win-win!

it had started innocently, you wanting more attention as he was playing his game, but once you started kissing his neck you knew he was done for.

now, here you were riding him in his gaming chair, his headset long since forgotten on the desk and his game still going in the background.

“god, you feel so good,” you groaned in his ear as your hips stilled on his dick.

“please,” he whimpered, his fingers definitely leaving bruises to be seen tomorrow. you loved it when he got so needy, even though it started with you needing him more.

“please what, love?” you tilted his chin up to face you. “use your words for me,” you leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. the way his chased after yours as you pulled away made you chuckle.

“please, i need you,” he began massaging your thigh with one hand, letting his other trail up to your waist. “i need you so bad. please?”

“what do you want me to do?” you attached your lips to his neck. you just loved how flustered he got when you were all over him. his subtle huffs of breath along with the whimpers that would leave his mouth.

“move?” his hips were rutting up into you, as little as he could without it being too obvious. he hated getting in trouble for being impatient. “please! please, i’ll do anything for you. i just-you just feel so good. and i-oh god, please?"

"you're so cute when you beg," you nipped at his earlobe, his hips rutting sharply into your own. "aww, such an eager guy you are, huh?"

he threw his head back, practically gasping for air as he was gripping your skin to ground himself. you began to roll your his into his, not lifting at all, simply grinding. "oh god," his head flew forward onto your shoulder where he pressed lazy, open-mouthed kisses. "thank you, fuck, thank you."

you put your hands on his shoulders as you started lifting your hips, waiting a second before slamming them back down to meet his. you repeated this until he began to whine in your ear even more, his voice getting louder with each movement.

"can i touch you?" he was practically drooling. "please?"

"go ahead, xay," you grabbed the hand that was on your thigh and brought it to your clit. "can you make me feel good?"

"yes," he nodded eagerly as his eyes met with your still clothed chest. "can-can i...?"

"you wanna play with them?" you awed at his shy nature. it only really came out when you were vulnerable like this, or when you were just alone with each other. "go ahead, take off my shirt."

"really?" a smile graced his face, his eyes lighting up fervently as he obeyed your orders. "you're so perfect."

your heart always warmed at his complements, even at times like these when you were getting naked in front of him. you could always tell he meant what he said.

"you can touch," you nodded at him before he connected his mouth with your nipple, his tongue keeping the same rhythm as his fingers on your clit. "just-just like that, xay. holy fuck," you felt your climax building quicker as he switched to your other breast, letting his free hand massage the neglected one. "always such a good boy for me. my good boy."

"mhmm," his hips rutted into yours once more. "'m close," his voice seemed wary.

"don't worry, me too," you ran your hand through his hair, getnly tugging so he would look at you. a smile was adorning your face before you connected your lips sloppily with his, "just keep going, baby. just like that."

you could practiclly feel his dick twitching inside of you, "i-i'm about to cum, where-"

"inside of me, xay," you ordered as you held onto his face with both hands. "cum inside of me."

"oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," his hips were jackhammering into yours as his fingers only sped up on your clit, sending you over the edge with you. "holy shit, you're so tight! christ, yes!"

"so good, xay," you were still tugging on his hair as you fucked each other through your highs. "so fucking SHIT!" your body was spasming as his came down from his high, giving him the opportunity to hold onto you with his free arm, still working you through your orgasm with his fingers.

"you're perfect," xavier repeated as you slumped against his chest. "so fucking perfect," his fingers were stroking your back, likely drawing some random picture on it.

"right back atcha," you laughed as you winced slightly, his dick still moving from each movement.

"sorry," he helped you stand and get off of his chair.

your legs were extremely wobbly, so you let him do most of the work for you as he guided you to the bathroom. he dampened a washcloth to wipe off both releases from yours and his thighs, laughing at your hissing from the sensitivity.

"hey," you nudged his shoulder. "i'm sensitive, asshole."

"oh, i know," he nodded with a shit-eating grin. "i mean, you were spasming on my dick not even ten minutes ago, so..."

"y'know what?" you snatched the washcloth from his hands. "i can clean myself up," you rose your brows with attitude before he simply picked you up from the bathroom counter altogether.

"nope," he shook his head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "i get to take care of you. you can't walk."

"it's not my fault your dick is big," you poked his cheeks as they began to blush. he dropped you on the bed a bit haphazardly before crossing his arms as he stood in front of you. "hey," you drew out the word, reaching to grab his hand. "you're not gonna leave your girl high and dry without cuddles all night, are you?" you pouted, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes.

"i like your cuddles too much for that," he plopped on the small bed beside you, loving it all too much when you curled into his chest. "so this is really just a selfish act on my end."

"we could call it mutually beneficial," you shrugged as you pulled the blankets over both of your bodies. you took a moment to breath him in. for some reason he smelled so good after sex. maybe it was the hormones that just draws you to him, but whatever it is you hoped it never stopped happening. "i love you."

"i love you," xavier pressed a kiss to your forehead. you felt his smile. "you're my favorite person. you're my person."

"i'm your person," you agreed. "you're my person."

"goodnight, my love," his raspy, sleepy voice proclaimed.

"goodnight, xay."

#xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe x reader smut #xavier smut #xavier wednesday #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday fic #wednesday netflix

[slvtforfiction]

Jake smut but with a super innocent reader. And he explains in kinda to her and she turns her stuffed animals so they’re facing away before it n stuff 🥹🥹

Little Sweetheart

☆ ANON STOPPPPP

☆ OMG LOTS OF LOVE SWEETIE 💜

☆ Jake Webber X Virgin!Reader

☆ Smut (porn w no plot?)

☆ Sorry it’s so short :( x

☆ Masterlist

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

I rolled over in bed next to Jake and rested my head on his chest as he kissed my forehead,waking up.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said smiling as he rested his head back letting out a low groan. “Hi.” I smiled up at him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him looking up at him from his chest. “Nothing baby,just gonna have a shower.” He said getting up and stretching his arms.

My head just peaked out of the covers but I could see his boxers larger than normal.

“Do you want help with that?” I asked him whilst looking up at him,doe eyes. He smiled at me sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You sure love? You only choose one person to give your virginity to.” He said to me and I sat up in bed.

“I promise.” I told him as I smiled up at him, we had been dating for around 4 months and he had known of my virginity before we had started dating.

I was always ready when I was with him. “Yeah?” He asked affirming my decision, “Yeah,I want it to be you.” I whispered and he smile walking over to me and back into bed.

I pulled down my panties,leaving my shirt and looked at him expectantly,with a smile he told me to come sit in his thighs for a moment after taking his boxers down.

I looked over at my studies and saw them staring back at me,I quickly turned them around and Jake laughed softly to himself.

“I’ll walk you through it,okay?” He says and I nod, “Words princess.” He says and I smile, “Okay.”

He puts his hands on my waist,lifting me up with ease,and I can feel the tip of his cock against my entrance. “I’ll go slow okay?” He says and I nod.

He lowers me down and the first few inches feel uncomfortable but not harmful,until he got further.

“Jake it hurts!” I say and he quickly stops lowering me, “Tell me when it feels better and we’ll keep going.” He says softly and I nod as I sit there,half way down him.

“You okay baby?” He asks and I make a small nod,we repeat this a few times before I get used to the feeling and reply with “You can keep going now.” In a faint whisper.

He slowly lowers me further until he’s fully inside of me, “You can start whenever you want to,okay? I’ll let you do it so you can pick the pace,all you need to do is bounce up and down,when you get tired let me know and I’ll help you,okay?” He asks and I nod as I began to slowly bounce up and down.

The feeling is pleasurable and I quickly start moaning,the feeling of Jake’s hand on my waist only egging me on. I begin to go faster,still slow but getting used to the feeling.

“You okay princess?” He asks with a grunt in between, “Am I going too slow?” I ask worriedly and he laughs softly, “No love,take your time,it’s okay.” He reassures and I smile as I get faster. “Jake!” I moan as I pick up pace.

“That’s it baby.” He says proudly as my pace stabilises at a fast speed. Jake began to grunt and moan,pushing me further into a tight knot in my stomach.

“Jake! Jake!” I all but scream out as the knot in my stomach releases and I collapse against his chest, desperately trying to keep my pace to make him finish too. Soon enough I feel my insides painted and warm and I lie on Jake’s chest as I pant out like a dog.

I felt his cock soften inside of me and I he lifted me off his cock and kept me lying against his chest. “Thank you love.” He says,kissing my forehead.

I smile and plant a small kiss to his chest with the energy I have left as I wrap my arms around him. “Such a good girl for me.” He says whispering small praise towards me.

“I love you.” I whisper before falling into sleep,quick enough not to hear the response from him,though I knew he said he loved me back.

#spotify #smut #song #romance #cute #fluff #colby brock smut #sam and colby #sam and colby fluff #colby brock #jake webber fluff #jake webber smut #jakewebber #jake webber #jake webber x reader

[darthannie]

day four: creampie with Jim

pairing: Jim (the delinquent season) x f!reader word count: 912 warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, L-bombs teehee, smut(duh), Jim is possessive a/n: Finally, something kinda soft. I need Jim so bad it’s not even funny. He and I are endgame.

kinktober masterlist

“God, it’s absolutely freezing out there.” You walked into Jim’s apartment and shrugged off your wet raincoat. You hung it up to dry at the entryway and took off your shoes, leaving them to dry as well. 

Jim stood to the side and waited for you to acknowledge him. When you finally looked at him he opened his arms and you gladly accepted his embrace. He gave you a quick kiss and then you both made your way to the couch. You threw yourself down and he sat next to you. You cuddled into his side and he put his arm around you. 

This was the usual routine. You had both recently made your relationship official, but not much had changed. Your relationship was that of an old married couple, though there was less bickering. You could see your relationship going for the long haul, and the prospect was as exciting as it was petrifying. 

You and Jim had your typical end-of-week debrief. He told you about a new book he was reading, and you told him about a new dish you were planning on making. He mentioned how you should both make it together at his apartment. 

You looked up at him and grinned “That’s a great idea. I’ll finally be able to cook you dinner.”

He looked at you with a soft gaze. There was something on his mind. You looked at him confused and then he said it.

“I love you,” he blurted out. “I am so in love with you.”

Your mouth opened slightly; you were in a state of shock. He hadn’t said it before, so you hadn’t bothered, but hearing it from him now was like a bomb had dropped. You took a moment before you replied. 

“I love you, too,” you took a breath, “I love you so much.”

He gave a little wag of his head, “Come here.”

He pulled you in for a kiss and he was glad he did. That one kiss turned into a make out session on the couch. Things got heated fast and soon your shirt was off. Then his was too. Somewhere along the way the button of his pants was getting undone and he stopped you. 

“Not here. Bedroom”

He practically dragged you over to his bed. Once you were settled on the bed he took his shirt off, followed by his pants and underwear. He grabbed your pants and underwear by the waistband and pulled them down. You giggled at his sudden forwardness. He flipped you on your hands and knees, making you face away from him.

He grabbed your hips and entered you. Your moans came with every thrust. You didn’t mean to, but you were completely in sync with him.

He used to fingers to touch your clit while he fucked you. It was so much at once that your arms faltered, causing you to collapse in the bed, back arched. This let Jim reach a whole new spot, causing a chill to run through your body. 

He pulled out and you whined. 

“Jim, fuck, keep going.”

“On your back. Need to look at you.”

He helped you onto your back. He wanted to look at your face while he fucked you. He interlaced his fingers with yours and pinned your arms down. This time it felt different. Romantic. 

“You are so beautiful,” he said with all the sincerity in the world.

His ragged breath turned into shaky moans and sweet nothings as he set a fast pace. He kept repeating mine, all mine, you’re all mine. 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from being too loud. You liked hearing the sounds your bodies made together. You could tell when he was close, he started getting sloppy. His usual breathy moans became fully voiced. He said your name like it was a prayer falling from his lips. 

To both of your surprise, he came inside you. And it was a lot. Neither of you had agreed to it, nor had you thought of the consequences. It just happened. You came soon after him and you bucked your hips towards him as you did. It felt warmer than usual. No one had ever cum inside you before.

He untangled his fingers from yours and sat up, still inside you. He ran his hands down the sides of your body. Your breathing settled and so did his. This was brand new territory. Unsure how to proceed, he tried to snap the tension with a joke, “Well, I guess now it’s time to enjoy the show.”

You laughed lightheartedly and he pulled out. His cum pooled out of you. You saw his cock twitch as he watched what he had done. You tightened your muscles and more dripped out. You reached down to try and push some of it back in. You started fingering yourself, mixing your wetness with his cum. That did him in. He watched and stroked himself. When he was fully hard again he leaned down and kissed you. He moved to your neck and nipped at the skin, careful not to leave any marks. He shooed your hand away from your pussy and positioned his tip at your wet hole. He watched as he slipped in with no resistance.

He was getting drunk on the pleasure. At that moment he decided he was going to see how many times he could watch his seed drip from your cunt in a single night. 

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthologyy, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka, @no-fooking-fighting, @flwrs4aust

(If something is up with your tag or you would like to be added, let me know!)

#kinktober ‘23 #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #jim delinquent season #jim the delinquent season #jim the delinquent season x reader #jim delinquent season x f!reader #jim delinquent season x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x fem!reader

[skywlker-sluvtt]

jealousy angry sex to fluff what do you think I really love a jealous ani like in the clone wars

I adore jealous clone wars Anakin. The whole Padme and Clovis thing was just so 🤤 especially when Anakin beat the shit outta him. Here's a lil headcanon-y piece. I went a lil overboard but...I kinda like it 🫣 I hope you enjoy lovey.

Warnings: degrading, dirty talk, no protection (please be safe), spanking, possessive asf behaviour, and more 18+!!!

Word Count: 1.5k

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ

➮ Anakin is so vocally jealous. He’s a cocky ass hole and he will talk to the person flirting with you in the most condescending way ever and it gets on everyone’s nerves.

➮ He’s just so possessive of you and wishes you just wore a sticker on your shirt saying “Anakin’s my husband go away” so everyone fucks off. He also starts getting annoyed at you if you seem to be entertaining someone's flirtatious behaviour. Anakin’s watching you with some douchebag and he’s thinking “Yeah I bet that dick head can’t make you cum as good as I can” cause his mind goes straight to sex.

➮ It starts with his firm assertive ‘I’m the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy, fear me fucker’ voice. He stands up straight, with crossed arms and a clenched jaw as he storms over to retrieve you. (this part is incredibly sexy because he’s so hot and jealous)

➮ You can just feel the envy radiating off his body and you almost enjoy it. Anakin will make some shitty excuse to take you away making it somewhat obvious you’re his and only his. He’ll firmly grab your arm basically pulling you away from the guy. Anakin shares his partner with no one. If anyone is even talking to you with any kind of suggestive tone Anakin will go for their throat and sometimes it can be a little embarrassing if he makes it seem like you can’t take care of yourself.

➮ “Anakin! That was humiliating I can look out for myself I don’t need you constantly lurking around me asshole” You complain pacing your shared bedroom. “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend,” He says sarcastically. “You possessive jealous little boy. Get over yourself” You roll your eyes frustrated with his behaviour, but knowing where it will get you is the real goal here 🤭

➮ “Possessive? I’ll show you possessive” He growls standing up and towering over you. His large muscular frame is just too much to deal with. He grabs your face gripping your jaw to make you look at him. “Do you not value my protection love?” He asks his eyes are dark with lust. “I don’t need you over my shoulder constantly” You huff. “You’re so naive Y/N” He states. You turn your head avoiding his dangerous gaze. “Darling, who do you belong to?” He asks in such a fake-sweet-sounding tone. This is when he decides he’ll just fuck the bratty attitude out of you. “I don’t belong to anyone” You reply. He scoffs before pressing a hard, lewd kiss to your lips.

➮ Knowing what’s coming next you return the kiss threading your fingers through his hair as you both fight for control in the kiss. His tongue dominates yours and he pulls away smirking. “Strip for me, then get on the bed” Anakin whispers lowly in your ear giving your ass a smack and you’re quick to do as he says. As you take your panties off he snatches them from you. “Hey!” You try to grab them back and he smirks. “I think I might keep these in case I have to gag you” He replies swinging them around his finger and making you turn bright red.

➮ He’s the kind of guy to act fake sweet and humiliate you before angry fucking you till you can’t cum anymore.

➮ Slowly, you get on the bed as he takes off his own robes. “Touch yourself” He states still standing at the end of the bed. “What?” You reply shocked by his request. “Touch. Your. Self. Don’t make me repeat myself” He says again as you hesitantly move your hand down to your dripping heat. Biting your lip you slowly begin to circle your swollen cunt and Anakin can’t help but smirk watching the way your eyebrows are drawn together and the breathy moans you let out. “For someone who doesn’t need me you’re soaked princess” He sneers coming even closer to you, his eyes trained on your pussy. “Not for you” You reply. “Really?” Anakin laughs. “Should I leave? Maybe I’ll find someone at a bar who wants me” He sighed getting up. “N-No, no Anakin I-I didn’t mean it,” You whine reaching up to grab his arm and pull him back.

➮ He puts you on your back and cages you between his arms. “That’s what I thought, you're just my needy little slut aren’t you,” He chuckled, the sound of his breathy laughter making you rub your thighs together in pleasure. “I am” You whimper pulling him down for kisses. You yelp as he flips you on your stomach and roughly squeezes your ass while kissing your neck and back. Anakin’s a sloppy messy bitch and decides to lick up your spine and make you squirm first. “Ass up,” He says firmly. You shift positions gently and he gives you a few hard spanks making you moan.

➮ “God you’re so easy,” He tells you grabbing your hips and pushing his hard cock inside of you. “You just love all this attention don’t you, is that why you flirt with these creeps? You’re an attention whore huh?” He asked. You stay silent and he grabs a handful of your hair tugging you upward and keeping your back to his chest. “Answer me” He whispers biting your earlobe. “Yes” Is all you whisper wiggling your hips desperate for him to move. “Please Ani” You continue before he lets you go and starts fucking you at a merciless pace letting out his pent-up anger on your tight pussy.

➮ You’re whining into a pillow moaning at how deep he is inside of you. Anakin’s hands gripping your hips, his cold metal hand probably leaving marks. “You like it when I fuck you, dumb sweetheart, I bet your boyfriend couldn’t make you feel this good” Anakin grins in your ear. “H-He’s not my b-b-boyfriend” You stutter barely being able to speak from pleasure. “I’m the only person that can turn you into such a dumb cock drunk whore” Anakin continues his dirty talk the whole time.

➮Then he reaches down and grabs your throat pulling you back into him. You let out a loud moan at the angle change and he’s holding you up tight against him while he’s fucking you. “Ani” You whimper and he gently squeezed your airway closed. “Good girl taking me so fucking well” He rasped. He lets go of your throat he uses that hand to play with your clit. “Tell me who owns this pretty little cunt baby” His sadistic grin is crazyyy. “You do Anakin! You” “Mhm yeah I do”

➮ “Please l-let me cum Ani I promise I’m yours all yours” You moan before he flips you on your back. Anakin loves the sight of you all messy and sweaty desperate for his dick. “Good girl, you are mine. You don’t need anyone else” He continues fucking back into you causing you to start scratching his back. “I’ll make sure they all fucking know your mine” He groans leaning down to suck the biggest, purple hickeys across your neck to get his point across. “Cum on my cock sweetheart,” He says licking across the marks. “Anakin! Oh, fuck Anakin” You moan coming undone around him quivering in ecstasy. “Mhm, baby I’m gonna cum so deep inside you, get you all p-pregnant with my child. No one will ever touch you if you see you big and fucking swollen with my baby” He growls before finishing deep inside of you.

➮ Afterwards he goes all soft on you. “I love you so much” He whispers so softly making you grin at his sudden change in tone. “You know that?” He asks. “Course I do…I love you too” Laying beside you he smiles and presses the softest kisses to your face. “Y’know I don’t mean any of that right?” He makes sure. “I know, it’s fun” You grin squeezing his bicep. “Let me get you cleaned up pretty girl” He grins.

➮ He’s quickly cleaning you up and getting you a cold glass of water. Eventually, you’re just cuddled up to his chest as he strokes your hair. “I’m sorry for getting so jealous. I just hate seeing other guys talk to you like that. I know you can handle yourself…I just like protecting you” He blushes. “It’s okay, I like how possessive you are Skywalker. It’s cute” “I’m not possessive, I just love you” Anakin whispers kissing your temple making you giggle. He he fully believes with his whole heart he is not possessive, but like bro he so is “Don’t laugh at me” He grins kissing his cheek. “Love you Ani…m’all yours,” You say softly. “I’m all yours too” Anakin replies pecking your lips once more.

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin smut #anakin headcanons #anakin fic #anakin x you #anakin x reader #ani wani #tcw anakin #jealous anakin #anakin angst #star wars fic #star wars smut #sw prequels

[hey-august]

Hi hii

Do you also write angst?

If so...I'm genuinely curious on what's your take if Buggy's partner was severely injured and in the verge of death in his arms.

Don't mind me,,just craving a freshly baked Buggy angst 🤡

-soupsprout

Ahhhh, sorry this took a bit!

I love angst, but I've only ever written relationship-angst. Like poor communication skills or intense self-loathing.

This was a fun one to try! Fun and painful! I kinda hurt now! 🥲 I hope it hits the spot for you, @soupsprout

The ending is ambiguous and there isn't comfort because I like the pain, but I have an idea for an uplifting ending and one for a painful ending. LMK if you're interested in hearing about either 😉

Edit: Sad ending here

WC: ~900 Warnings: NSFW - grievous injury & blood, Buggy x GN!reader, established relationship, angst no comfort

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Injuries are inevitable during a fight, and this was a fucking ambush. The crew was bound to collect new wounds and scars when they started at a disadvantage. But when shit hits the fan, they’re relentless. This time, that was a bad fucking trait.

As the din diminished and the ship drifted into eerie post-battle quiet, Buggy found you sitting against a wall. The crewmates you fought alongside were also in various states of reprieve. Leaning on crates, crouching on the ground, some even laying down as they caught their breaths. But none of them were sitting in a growing puddle of blood. None of them looked as ashen as you did. The sticky red hand squeezing your leg told the story.

Ripping his bandana off his head, Buggy sprinted over to you and kneeled on the dirty ground. He peeled your hand back, exposing the gash. This was real bad. The placement was bad. The depth was bad. He could see the surge of blood come and go, following your heartbeats. Biting the hem of his bandana, Buggy tore it into strips and wound them just above the wound. Tight but not too tight - he remembered that much.

You winced as he tied a knot and tried to push his hands away. Adrenaline dulled the pain from the original wound, but all this extra shit was too much.

“Stop,” you whined, smearing blood from your hand to his wrist. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Just a little more, okay?”

“Don’t, Buggy…it hurts enough, just leave it.” 

“Fuck, no! Listen, we need to stop the bleeding. I have to…” 

Buggy didn’t know how to tell you that he needed to pack the wound and it was not going to be pleasant. It had been years since he had to dress a wound like this. He didn’t have to do this for himself since eating the goddamn Devil Fruit and his crew had a doctor to tend to the others. Right, a doctor!

Dragging the closest crew member over by the collar of their shirt, Buggy started shouting, “YOU! Go get the doctor, get a medic, fuck - just go get someone! Get fucking Mohji!”

The pirate scrambled to their feet and yanked another mate up to join him in a search for help.

“Mohji?” you repeated with a soft laugh.

“He can help. He takes care of Richie, maybe he knows-”

“I’m not a lion, Buggy. It’s not the same.” 

Your over-dramatic condescending tone could have fooled the pirate into believing you were okay if your voice didn’t shake. If you weren’t talking more with your eyes shut than open. If you hadn’t lost enough blood that it was seeping into the knees of his pants.

“I dunno, you’re as annoying as Richie.” 

You smiled but didn’t respond. 

Buggy glanced around the room, which was nearly empty. The only ones left were the ambushers who didn’t survive and anyone who couldn’t run through the ship. No one had come back with any fucking help, though. 

“Hey, keep your eyes open,” Buggy said, squeezing your cheeks. 

You did what he asked, but it took a few tries. Your eyes fluttered shut more than once before you succeeded in keeping them open.

“M’tired, Buggy,” you said in a low voice. A sad voice. A scared voice.

“You can sleep later. I’ll even let you sleep on my side of the bed, okay? Just stay awake for now. Captain’s orders!”

Another smile, softer than the last one. Even Buggy could hear the desperation cracking in his throat.

“I have to do one more thing to stop the bleeding, alright? It’ll hurt and then you’ll feel better. Take a deep breath for me, okay? You can do that?”

You nodded and inhaled. It was slow and stuttering as you tried to take in as much air as you could. Buggy waited until you were too focused on breathing before jamming a wad of torn fabric into the leaking wound. He winced as you let out a loud groan and your whole body stiffened in pain.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m all done. You did so good.” 

Buggy rushed to comfort you, pressing kisses to your forehead and wiping away the tears falling from your eyes with the back of his hands. Blood didn’t make him nauseous, but the sight of his palms stained red with yours did. Nauseous and nervous.

Your eyes were closed again. He asked you to open them. He asked again. They cracked open just a little. Enough to make him feel better and feel worse.

“Hey, what do you call a lion at the South Pole?”

“What?” Your head tilted and your brows tightened. You were thinking.

Buggy watched your lips move slowly as you repeated his question.

You opened your eyes a little wider and looked at him with as much confusion as you could muster. You shook your head slightly. 

“Oh, you don’t know?” he teased with a big grin. A fake smile to keep you distracted. “Keep thinking about it. If you just can’t figure it out, I’ll tell you when you get better. Alright?”

You mouthed an affirmative response, but didn’t make a sound.

“So it’s a deal? You’ll get better and then I’ll tell you the answer. You gotta get better, though, okay?” 

Buggy grabbed your hands, hoping you couldn’t feel how he was shaking. He wished he couldn’t feel how cold you were.

You nodded and closed your eyes to think.

#buggy angst #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy

[dylan-o-yumm]

Hi there! I just wanna say that I love your writing it’s so good 🫶 anyways I can’t stop thinking about Leon coming back from a mission terribly hurt, and the reader just worries over him and takes care of our sweet boy 🥺 giving him the love and comfort he deserves 🫶 stay safe out there and remember to hydrate! 🫶

Firstly, thank you for the sweet and kind words, anon 💜 you’re precious

Okay so I changed it up a little bit just because I have a longer fic in the works that’s exactly this request lol, so keep an eye out for that one! This one is more… moody? And the love and comfort is more... frustration and argumentative. Hehe

And I imagine RE6/ID Leon for this one but you can imagine who you want!

WARNINGS: wounds/gore, if you're squeamish then maybe don't read just to be safe. Reader is also kinda a bitch, but we all know Leon loves his challenging women lol

“Hey, kid. Mind if I come in?” He asks, already slinking his way inside your home, his hand clutching his right shoulder that was scratched and torn up, leaking blood down his leather jacket and spilling small droplets onto your floor as the blood slid down his bicep and trickled down his fingers.

“Leon, go to a hospital. You’re making a mess,” you grumble, shutting the front door that you had just opened to greet him, and turning around to glare at him with your arms folded over your chest.

“Nice to see where your priorities lie,” he quipped with a hint of humour in his voice. “I’ll clean up any mess I make, I promise.”

You watched him as he made his way to your bathroom, grumbling to yourself as you looked at the floor and saw the trail of blood that he was leaving behind him.

You’ll have to mop again. Even though you just mopped the floors this morning... Maybe you wouldn’t care about the mess if Leon was actually dying. However he loved to come to your house to patch himself up after, almost, every mission. This wasn’t a once off, this was a reoccurrence.

Last time it was broken ribs, which you got into a fight with him about. You were determined that he go to a hospital and seek actual medical attention, but he was adamant that he was fine and would heal on his own. The two of you had a screaming match— well, you screamed, he was pretty calm the whole time. You were paranoid that he would pierce a lung, and then what would you do? You had no medical practice aside from when he would visit, you’d have no idea how to help him. Turns out all he needed was some ice and lots of rest, so it wasn’t too bad.

The time before that, he had a pretty severe concussion. Which again, resulted in the two of you fighting about if he should or shouldn’t go to a hospital, but the night ultimately ended with you forcing him to stay awake so he didn’t die in his sleep. You realised fighting would probably make his condition worsen and he was too stubborn to give up and go to a hospital so you lost a lot of sleep that night, keeping him awake by talking since watching tv would also worsen his condition. So Google says anyway.

The time before that it was a dislocated shoulder. The time before that it was a nasty slice on his thigh that desperately wanted to get infected. The time before that— well, you get the picture. You are Leon Kennedy’s personal nurse whether you like it or not.

“Hey, kid. Come here,” he called out to you from inside the bathroom and you sighed heavily, ready to see whatever injuries he had. It was going to be bad and you were going to yell at him to go to a hospital and he would refuse and you would end up helping him. Rinse and repeat.

You made your way to the bathroom, dodging the drops of blood on the floor so you didn’t walk even more of a mess throughout the house. “I keep telling you, I’m not a fucking doct- oh fuck!”

The moment you saw him, you stumbled and fell back against the bathroom door, feeling your stomach drop while bile rose in your throat.

His jacket was off and hanging over the shower door while his shirt was half off, hanging around his neck and his left arm as he had freed his right arm. Though it wasn’t the lack of clothing that disturbed you, it was the pair of tweezers he was digging into his bloody shoulder, clearly trying to dig something out.

More blood was gushing down his arm and the sickening squelch of him digging around inside his own flesh made you very light headed.

“Hey, come here I need an extra pair of hands.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Come on, I can feel it, I just can’t get a hold of it. Need that bad boy outta me before I can stitch it up.” He barely looked at you, instead frowning deeply at his shoulder while he dug around his own flesh.

You were going to kill this man with your own bare hands.

“Bullet wound?” You ask, swallowing the bile in your mouth.

“Not sure.”

“How are you not sure?!”

“Just— help me would you?” He sighed, giving up on the task at hand as he took the tweezers out of his shoulder, handing them towards you. Both the tweezers and his fingers were covered in blood, warm and sticky. You wanted to cry. Or scream. Or punch him. All of the above.

You took the tweezers and grabbed the open bottle of rubbing alcohol off the bathroom counter, spilling some over your hands and the small tool. Leon watched you silently, sitting comfortably on the closed toilet lid, man-spreading and slouching as if he didn’t have a gaping hole in his shoulder.

“I hate you so much, just FYI,” you told him as you placed one hand on the top of his shoulder to steady him and yourself while the other hand with the tweezers came up and slowly dug into the hole. Leon hissed, probably because of the antiseptic, but he was soon calm once again. The man had probably been through so much pain in his life that this felt like a breeze.

“You wouldn’t be doing this if you hated me,” he smirked, watching your face while you were very focused on finding whatever it was that was inside his arm so you could get it out safely. And also not throwing up on him as the squelching noises of the tweezers moving around inside him made it very hard to control your stomach.

“Maybe you hate me then. Having me do this for you even though you know how much I hate it, when you could just go to a fucking hospital.” You grumbled, frowning at his arm. You could feel the small piece inside him, scraping against it with the tweezers, you just had to grab it and pull it out without accidentally pushing it further inside.

“That’s not hate. That me being selfish,” he looked away from you, his smirk dropping and his eyes hardening. “I trust you more than some stranger to poke around inside me with a pair of tweezers.”

“You shouldn’t. I have no idea what I’m doing.” You huff.

He was silent then but not because he didn’t have a response. He was more focused watching you pull out a small golden bullet from his arm, that was slightly crumpled from the impact at which it was fired.

“Well what do ya know? It was a bullet,” he sighed heavily, though relaxing further into his seat. The both of you looked closely at the piece that was once in his arm, but now sat firmly between the pincers of the tweezers.

“What the fuck else would it have been?!”

“Trust me you don’t wanna know.” He scoffed. “Anyway, time for you to stitch me up.” He clapped his hands once, wincing at the pain that shot up through his arm as he did so. He leaned forward slightly and rested his elbow on his knee.

“Leon. I’m not a doctor,” you huffed, dropping the bloody bullet into the small trash can beside the toilet. You then dropped the tweezers into the sink and ran some water to rinse them off. “I understand you trust me more, for whatever reason. But this isn’t fair. I hate doing this. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I thought you cared more about the mess I was making in your house.”

You rinsed your hands in the sink next, watching Leon’s blood swirl down the drain. Though his snide comment had you shutting off the water and turning to look at him with a hand on your hip and an unamused look on your face.

Leon parted his lips and avoided your gaze, sighing as he realised you weren’t in the mood for his playful attitude.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head and grabbed a handful of toilet paper to start wiping away the blood on his arm. “I know I shouldn’t put you through this. I know it’s unfair on you.”

You crouch down in front of him and place your hand on his knee. “Tell me why you do it. Why do you come to me instead of a professional?”

Leon continued to clean his arm, avoiding eye contact with you but the fact that he was being quieter and softer now made your frustrations ease a little. He was acting more unlike himself and more like a soldier, hardened by the many wars he faced.

“When I’m out there on the field,” he pauses what he’s doing and looks up, but he doesn’t look at you, instead his eyes remain distant, unfocused. Maybe lost in a memory. “I look forward to this. Spending time with you. It’s not the best circumstances I know, but after seeing the shit I see... coming back to see you is like a breath of fresh air. I guess I just wanted to be selfish about something, you know?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and you looked down at your hand that was resting on his knee.

He didn’t get to be selfish a lot in his line of work, it made sense that he would just like to be doted on and cared for instead of being the one who cares for everyone else. This was his break, his vacation.

“I guess—“ you swallow the lump in your throat, refusing to meet his gaze, not that he was looking at you as he was quite flustered after what he just confessed. “I’ve been pretty selfish too. I mean you show up with a bullet wound, bleeding everywhere and I... I mean I’ve been pretty bitchy,” You chuckle but you don’t feel very good about yourself.

“Look,” you start, “what if you come see me more often? Preferably when you’re not bleeding. We can watch movies, relax. Give you the down time you deserve. Just... if you have a crazy injury like this, please get it checked out by a professional? That’s all I ask. I’ll pamper you as much as you need afterwards, okay?”

You’ll give him a vacation that he actually deserves.

“I’d like that,” Leon smiles, closing his eyes to take in the warm feeling for a moment longer. When he opened his eyes again, you couldn’t look away this time. His eyes were so blue, so expressive, so inviting.

You’re not sure what compelled you but your eyes lowered to his lips, so soft looking, only a little chapped, probably from being a little dehydrated after his mission, or maybe the blood loss. Either way you felt yourself leaning forward, inching closer and closer.

Until he cleared his throat.

“Do you mind sewing me up? I’m kinda bleeding out here.” He chuckled softly and you felt your face heat up and your eyes widen.

“Oh fuck, right,” you quickly jump to action, finding the needle and thread, cussing silently to yourself for being so stupid. “We could have talked after I patched you up, you know?”

“Ah where’s the fun in that?”

#leon x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #resident evil 2 #resident evil infinite darkness #resident evil imagines #re leon #re4 leon #re6 #Leon Kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x you #re4 x reader

[neptoons1998]

Together forever

Summary: They were always meant to be. even after all these years/

Tag gang: @somethingcleaverandwhitty @s0lam33y @xchoxix @mal-urameshi

A/N: Okay I hope this will give your Halloween fixes.

Summary: Riri couldn’t help but be pulled to the mysterious woman’s aurora.

Riri felt her stomach unsettled as the car rocked back and forth, why on earth did she agree to do this job? Because you need money her mind retores. Riri leaned her head back as she sighed when she got there she was going to get the most significant story that would make her career. 

She was meeting THE Shuri. The famous artist. Her art has been hung around many art museums and has been sold for millions. 

“This would finally get you on the map!” MJ, Riri’s roommate exclaimed with cheer. Riri was over the moon when her boss picked her to do the interview.  Riri remembers packing her clothes in a small suitcase. 

The catch is she has never been interviewed. Anytime someone wanted to she would politely decline the invitation, except now that is. Riri felt the jolt of the car coming to a stop.

“Where here ma’am,” The driver’s rough voice out his pierced blue eyes looked into Riri’s. 

Riri smiled stiffly at the driver, “Yes thank you.”

“Miss,” The driver started before Riri could leave the car, “Please be careful. Anyone who goes in doesn’t make it back.”

Great Riri thought as her stomach dropped for the second time today, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And with that, the driver quickly left the young woman at the gothic mansion in the countryside.

“Get the interview and leave,” Riri repeated in her thoughts as she hiked up her bag. 

Before she could knock on the door creaked open as if she knew she would arrive at the mansion. It took everything in Riri not to run over for the hills, Think about the paycheck. Think about the paycheck. 

X.X.X

Riri bit the inside of her cheek as she went into the building. The mansion had a smell like leather and old paint that hadn’t been dried yet. Different art pieces were placed around the long hallway they looked like they were made years ago. 

“Hello,” Riri called out as continued walking, “Ms. Udak I’m here for the interview?”

Riri pressed on, she couldn’t but feel like she was being watched. Riri slipped herself into one of the many rooms of the mansion. She hoped to find the main residents there, but she did find a painting. The painting had a black woman in on a chair looking regal. Her eyes seemed to follow Riri’s. But was weird about this painting it kinda looked like Riri. Before Riri could get a closer look at the paint the floorboard creaked causing the young woman to turn around to the source. 

“Oh,” Riri gasped in surprise as she turned to see the artist. Shuri was taller than Riri thought she would. The woman wore a flowy dress shirt and black slacks, “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have been here.”

“No my love,” Shuri said, “You are where you’re supposed to be.”  

Riri’s throat was closed by Shuri’s comment. Riri clicked her pen as she felt Shuri’s walk around her. 

     Like a panther to its prey. 

“You’re so kind,” Riri commented finally able to grab her senses back, “I’m sure you tell it to all women who interview you.”

Shuri smirked at her as if she knew a unique secret that Riri didn’t know, “Only you. ”

Riri could feel her heart race at the woman’s response, “Where do you want to do the interview?”

Riri couldn't believe how alluring Shuri was to her. The young woman felt like she had known this woman her whole life. They talked about things for the interview, but Shuri would make conversation about anything. 

“I think I have enough for the paper,” Riri commented on her notes.

Shuri gave her a quiet smile, “If not you are more than welcome to come back, Riri.”

Riri smirked, “If I did that. I’ll probably will never leave.”

Shuri’s eyes watched her as she was packing her things, Riri felt the pressure to hurry up and get out of the woman’s way. Riri gave a quick gto realize that she wasn’t looking at her as if she was a bug underneath her shoe; instead, something that she had lost and was overjoyed to have back. 

 “Well I really should leave,” Riri commented as she moved to give space between the pair. Shuri’s eyes followed her. 

“Not that I don’t love being h-here,” Riri commented as she continued to ramble.  

“You can’t leave,” Shuri replied. Riri’s heart quickened with that statement.

“W-Why?” Riri asked pulling her bag close to her. 

“The storm is coming here,” Shuri explained as she showed the Riri on her phone, “It’s too dangerous now, especially with rain and all. You should stay here,” Shuri commented. 

Riri looked out the window now seeing the dark clouds that were brewing, “Are you sure? I’m sure there are some hotels I could stay in.”

“Nonsense,” Shuri relied as she pulled the curtains to close them. Shuri pulled Riri closer to her, “After all my home is your home, my love.”

   X.X.X

In guest bedroom was very spacious at least in Riri's view. The room had a bathroom attached to it. The canopy bed is in the hue of deep greens and blues. The indoor plants sat across the ceiling window. 

“I hope you like it,” Shuri said as she stayed behind the door. Riri continued to look around the guestroom. 

“Like it?” Riri repeated as she turned to look at Shuri, “I love it! These are my favorite colors.”

“I’m glad the room is up to your expectations,” Shuri teased causing Riri to make a cute pout. That squeezed Shuri’s heart. 

“I’ll be in this room two doors down,” Shuri explained as she started to leave Riri, “Enjoy your stay Riri.”

                                    X. x. X.

Shuri couldn’t believe that she was her. Her greatest love has been recreated, it took over a thousand years but she was here. She acted the same in some ways and different in others. Shuri couldn’t help but feel glee with her soulmate. 

This time her name is Riri Shuri thought as she continued her routine for “bed” waiting for Riri to fall asleep before she could do her nightly hunt. 

#ao3 #fanfiction #shuriri #shuri x riri #riri williams #writing #halloween fanfics

[switch4cb97]

My hero (18+)

Warning: STRICTLY 18+ CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE!

Pairing: Bang Chan x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 965 words

Warnings: afab reader, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, swallowing, hickeys galore!, swearing (duh), kinda dom!reader (only if you squint), reader worships chan's body, praise kink, face-fucking (mild)

Note: this isn’t beta-read so please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors. Also, do tell me if I missed any warnings. I absolutely love feedback so please feel free to comment/reblog!

Much love, Sahriel 🐺

“Shhh stop talking” you let out breathlessly as you dive back in to kiss your boyfriend Chan on his full, plump and now scarlet lips, cutting him short in his plea to start preparations.

“Mmmh, babe as much as I’m loving this right now, we HAVE to get ready, your parents will be here soon, no?” He said, almost drunk on you.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, right now, I want you. I want you so fucking bad, this can’t wait”. You start kissing his neck and relishing how he writhes in pleasure under you. You sitting on the kitchen island and him standing in front of you is really giving you the height you need to hold his neck and tower over him, all dominant like you want to be right now.

He moans, lightly and it’s almost like he’s trying to suppress it, not wanting this to pan into a long session of pleasure, just to keep it civil. However, you’re not having it. “Don’t fight this, baby. I need to taste every part of your body right now or I’ll cease to exist. I NEED you to survive. Please?”

You know he loves it when you beg for it. Especially now, you’re begging not for your pleasure, but for all of his. There’s no way he’s not gonna yield, right?

“Well, since you asked so nicely, and I need you to not perish, ever, I’ll allow it, just this once” he tried to sound nonchalant but his cock now pressing against your belly showed how much he wanted it, how desperately he wanted you.

You smirk, one eyebrow raised and pull him by his T-shirt, and push him down onto the couch, his bulge now growing by the second. You quickly get rid of both your tees and shorts, leaving you in your sexy lingerie, the one he loves admiring you in, and him shirtless, in only his underwear. Perfect.

You seat yourself on his lap, grinding slowly on his clothed erection, as you kiss and suck the skin all over, starting from his neck, collarbones, shoulders, pecks, nipples, abs, V-line, and stop just above his pubic bone.

All this while he’s muttering curses softly, hissing and writhing in pleasure and praises for you spill from his lips like divine chants. “Fuck baby, you’re making me feel so good. I’m so addicted to how your lips feel all over me” you’re incredibly wet but this isn’t the time.

You look up at him with the prettiest doe eyes you can muster in that flustered state, and sink down to the floor, your face now right in front of his hard-on. You tease a little, gliding your fingers over his hip bone as you make a show out of pulling his underwear down. Eventually you yield to his whines and requests, freeing his gorgeous, delicious huge thickness to stand tall and proud.

Your mouth waters as you look at the glistening slit and you breathe out in a gasp. “Just sit back and let me taste the rest of you, baby” he takes one look at you and bites his lips at your lustful expression, running his palm softly across your cheek before he places both his palms outstretched on the top of the cushions.

This is exactly how you wanted him: all manspread just for you to map out every inch of him with your mouth. You dove in and repeated the same kiss-suck-lick you did with his torso, but now to his pelvis, his thighs, his calves and his cock, all while moaning and relishing every bit of him.

His eyes were closed, head thrown back as he ascended to every heaven there must be, occasionally whispering “oh you’re so good with that mouth, oh yeah baby, you know how to suck me dry” and “fuck yes, milk all my cum like only you can, baby” as he held out a hand to grab your head, not to guide you (cause he doesn’t need to, you know him that well) but to caress you as thanks for pleasuring him so well.

His good little girl. His girlfriend. His little bitch.

You made him feel the highest levels of pleasure and belonging, because he realised that only he gets to see you like this, to feel your pretty little mouth all over him, to stare at your perfect body in that sexy lingerie, and most importantly, only he gets to fuck you until you’re not thinking (or walking) straight anymore.

Soon, he’s screaming your name and shooting out all his cum deep down your throat, as he opens his eyes and looks at the most beautiful girl he’ll ever lay eyes on. His girl. Only his.

You smile triumphantly as you kiss your way back up his godly body to his lips and hum into his mouth, “thank you for saving me, my hero.” You surprise yourself with how lustful and husky your voice sounds, but that’s probably also because your throat’s fucked, literally.

He smiles, his eyes still closed, and his dimple makes an appearance, much to your doom. He lets out a light snort, opening his eyes, all dazed and blissed out, and manages to breathe out a “you’re welcome, miss. My pleasure, really.”

You both chuckle at how good of a pun that was, and make out like hungry wolves for a bit more until your phone rings and the caller ID says “Ma.” Uh-oh. Your orgasm will have to wait, you suppose.

That is, until Chan answers the call and says “hello, yes mom, it’s me… oh that’s a bummer. We’ll wait, no worries. Bye” and you don’t even let him complete saying “traffic” before you start kissing him with your hungry tongue. 😏

#stray kids bang chan #christopher bang #chris bang #skz bang chan #stray kids chan #chan x reader #skz hard hours #chan smut #lee know smut #skz lee know #skz smut #han #changbin #hwang hyunjin #seo changbin #han jisung #felix #lee felix #thunderous #kim seungmin #seungmin #yang jeongin #jeongin #i.n. x reader #skz imagines #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader

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

Super Secret Services

Summary: Izzy sees a sex worker but not for what you might expect. He finds himself paying for your services every time he is in port, only the lines between fantasy and reality begin to blur until he can’t tell what’s real and what’s not.

Word Count: 9414

The room was filled with quiet chatter and the clinking of cups. Things were relatively slow for an afternoon but it was normally quieter than the evenings, that’s when everything normally picked up.

The establishment you worked in was far from your worst option. It wasn’t anything special but it was held in good regard on the port it was located in, the people you worked with were like a family, and the madame that ran the place cared about those who worked for her.

You were tucked away in a corner, talking to one of the girls you worked with, Val. The two of you pressed close to each other to share private conversation in a room where privacy wasn’t often given.

“I’m telling you, I think you have a bit of a regular now,” you insisted. The same man had been by once a week for nearly a month now, and always waited until Val made an appearance to approach anyone.

Val just hummed, glancing over at the familiar man. “He’s not too bad. Knows what he wants and leaves decent tips,” she shrugged.

“Ah, good man,” you laughed a little to yourself.

She laughed along lightly but her face only truly brightened when he looked over your shoulder. You just cocked an eyebrow at her questioningly.

Val inched a little closer, her smile morphing into a small smirk. “Look who just wandered in,” she nudged you. You rolled your eyes fondly but still subtly looked over your shoulder, seeing the one and only Israel Hands walking into the mainroom. “Your boyfriend’s back,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“Boyfriend,” you huffed, turning back to her with a glare, “shut up.”

“Aw, I think it’s cute. He won’t even talk to anyone but you,” Val continued.

“Knows I can give him what he needs,” you winked, making her laugh. Once her laughing died down, your expression turned serious. “Seriously though, remember what I said?”

“Not a word about the first mate,” she vowed, just as serious, “can’t help but notice the pattern, though.”

This wasn’t Hands’ first visit to you or this establishment but he appeared to keep those visits a secret. When he had first sought you out, he had paid extra and stressed just how confidential he expected this to be. Of course, you had agreed, but other people who you worked with were bound to notice his repeated appearances. Thankfully, your line of work included a lot of secrecy and confidentiality, so nobody had a problem with keeping it to themselves.

“Gotta go,” you give Val a smile before turning away from her. Val chuckled to herself, fixing up her hair before getting back to work.

Izzy was sat at the bar, ordering himself a drink. You sauntered over casually, leaning against the bar with a cocked hip, just a couple inches too close to the older man. “First mate Hands,” you greeted him with a smile.

“Afternoon,” Izzy nodded back politely. You bit back a bigger smile. He could be so adorable, barely even able to look at you.

“Sammy!” you called the young bartender over. He slid over with a smile. “I’m gonna head up to my room for a bit if anyone asks for me, it’s kinda slow around here.”

“No worries, I’ll let them know,” Sammy nodded, sweet and knowing. You thanked him and gave Izzy a meaningful look before heading up to your room.

It wasn’t long, but an appropriate amount of time later that left room available for plausible deniability, before Izzy walked into your room. He didn’t greet you, only looked over to acknowledge you sitting on the foot of your bed. He locked the door behind him, shutting the world out.

“You look stressed, love,” you were in front of him in an instant, stepping into his space and loosening the collar of his shirt. The click of the door’s lock triggered the beginning of the session, meaning you were allowed to touch him.

“Always stressed,” Izzy murmured, watching your hands as you worked.

“I’m sure, you have a very stressful job,” you sympathised. It was true, Izzy always came in here stressed, but there was something different this time. “Something new happened recently?”

“...boss has a new plan, I suppose. Working with a new crew,” he told you as you finished undoing the top couple of buttons of his shirt and loosened his cravat.

“They any good?” you asked, smoothing your hands over his chest.

“Terrible. Half of them aren’t even sailors, the captain is a rich ponce who just bought a ship and gives the crew a wage.” Izzy was so much more willing to talk than he was during his first visit, having asked for silent company rather than anything else. He opened up so much more these days, trusting that you kept your mouth shut.

“A wage is generous,” you hummed. “Not the way things are usually run though. You working for this new captain?”

“They’re trying to talk me into it, can’t see myself ever answering to that man,” Izzy scoffed. You bit back a small smirk, seeing his stubbornness raising to the surface. “Doesn’t matter though,” he sighed, sounding far too defeated for your liking. 

“‘Course it does,” you insisted, hands stroking down his arms, resting against his elbows. “Why do you think it doesn’t matter?”

“The captain doesn’t respect me, neither does his crew,” he told you.

“What? You’re Israel Hands, how can they not respect you at least a little based on that alone?” you asked, face scrunching up in genuine confusion.

“They don’t care. Don’t fucking listen,” Izzy shrugged. He was tense, clearly he needed a little trip to this port.

“Alright. Would you like a choice?” you offered. Izzy nodded, relaxing a little like a physical weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Do you want to talk about this some more or do you want to get comfortable and forget it for a while?” you asked kindly, making sure to speak in a way that didn’t influence his choice. Izzy always seemed to find these things easier when you gave him choices rather than open ended questions, you had learnt that pretty quickly about him.

Izzy let out a breath, relaxing further. “Get comfortable,” he decided.

“Can I remove a few layers?” you asked and he nodded.

All that leather just couldn’t be comfortable, he had to be overwarm in the middle of the Caribbean, but he always came in wearing the same thing. You carefully unbuttoned his waistcoat, removing it and folding it before putting it down. Then you removed his cravat, something he hadn’t let you touch during your first session but now trusted you to do so. You folded the ring in his cravat and placed it safely down with his waistcoat.

Taking Izzy by the hand, you led him over to the bed and sat him down on the edge. He just watched as you knelt down in front of him and removed his boots, you slid them off and neatly placed them by the bottom of the bed.

“There we go, darling,” you smiled as you stood again.

Izzy didn’t speak, just let you arrange the blankets and fluff the pillows before making yourself comfortable. You gestured for him to join you and he did, lowering him down by your side. You guided him a little closer, encouraging him to relax even more. He followed, draping himself over you and dipping his face down against your neck as you played with his hair.

Despite the type of profession Izzy had sought out all that time ago, cuddling while mostly fully clothed was the most physically intimate thing the two of you had ever done during his visits to your room

You could remember the first time he approached you, it would be pretty difficult not to remember being approached by Blackbeard’s first mate.

It was an afternoon like any other, you hadn’t even noticed him walk in. You did, however, notice him sitting alone at his table in the back corner, nursing his drink. He was assessing the room, waved off anyone that approached him but wasn’t particularly rude about it. He looked like he wanted to be left alone, so you didn’t approach to offer him some of your time. You remember thinking it was a bit of a shame. He was handsome, you wouldn’t have minded spending an hour or two with him.

It was Sammy who had told you exactly who that man was, always being up to date with the latest coming and goings on this port. Israel Hands, Blackbeard’s first mate. It only increased your interest in him but he did not look like he was looking for company, so you kept away to lessen your risk of being maimed.

It must have been about an hour after you noticed him that he approached you, pulled you to the side. A part of you actually expected him to ask for directions or something, maybe to see your madame, maybe they had business together. Instead he asked if you respected the idea of client confidentiality, you assured him you did, of course. Anything the two of you did during your time together, unless somebody got injured, would be completely private and wouldn’t leave those four walls.

You still don’t know what he saw when he assessed you after that, but it must have been what he was looking for because he asked to speak in your room. It wasn’t standard procedure but you figured you could make an exception for such a well known name, so you led him to your room. He had placed a large purse coin down, more than a client would normally pay, and you found yourself almost worrying about what he wanted from your services.

Then, he asked you to sit with him. To just…be in each other’s company. He was stiff, sat at least a foot away from you. You were half way through the hour he was paying for when you first touched him, just a hand against his shoulder. He seemed like he needed that touch…something soft and kind.

It was almost miraculous to you that the man you met that day was the same man that lay with you now, face pressing closer to your neck with your hand buried in his hair.

“I haven’t seen you this tense since the first time you came to see me,” you massaged his scalp “I hope things begin to get easier soon, love, or at least get back to normal.”

“Can we…just not talk for a while. Just want to…feel…” Izzy requested, which thrilled you a little. Asking for something so vulnerable, it felt like some sort of progress. Even if you still weren’t completely sure what it was that the two of you were doing together.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you agreed, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. You heard him let out a surprised little breath but didn’t comment on it.

The two of you lay in silence for a moment. He had relaxed against you but his muscles were still tense under your hands. Izzy had never actually fallen asleep in your room before and, while you thought he looked in need of a nap, he didn’t seem to be trying to fall asleep now either.

“Do you want me to call for a bath or do you just want to lay here?” you asked. A good soak could really help with all that tension.

Izzy was quiet for a moment, you knew by now that meant he was thinking. You didn’t rush him. “...a bath sounds good,” he whispered.

“Gonna take good care of you, love,” you vowed. Izzy smiled against your neck, tucking his face in a little closer in an attempt to hide it. He believed you, because you always did. Ever since you first lay a hand on his shoulder, you seemed to know what he needed.

-

A month later, the Revenge docks at the familiar port. Izzy moves like he’s in a trace, just going through the motions, but his feet know exactly where to take him. He trudges off of the busier streets and slips through the door of the small establishment, taking a seat at the bar.

He orders his drink but just stares at it, the chatter around him fading into a constant buzzing sound. A hand settles against his shoulder, feeling heavier than it actually was. It made everything in Izzy’s body tense until he caught a faint familiar scent, it was whatever you usually wore. A perfume or lotion of some kind, a smell that Izzy had come to associate with comfort.

“-I’ll be in my room.” He caught the end of your sentence and then your hand was lifted, the only thing anchoring him to his seat. Without it, he felt like he might float away.

Normally he would leave some time before following you up, just long enough for plausible deniability, but this time he didn’t wait. Couldn’t even consider it. He left his full cup on the bartop and slipped from his seat, heading up to your room.

You weren’t on the other side of the room when he entered, you were right by the door, quick to lock the door and usher him inside. His dazed state continued but he felt the plush give of your mattress as you sat him down.

“Izzy, you with me?” you asked steadily, hands gentle against his shoulders, just enough pressure for him to know that you were there.

Izzy nodded weakly. He could hear you, but he didn’t seem quiet with you. Something about him felt so absent.

“Breathe with me, okay?”

You crouched down in front of him so that he would meet your gaze, taking his hands in yours. He gave another small nod and followed you through some breathing exercises, trusting you to lead him in the correct direction.

After a couple of minutes, though Izzy really didn’t have much sense of the time that passed, he was feeling more grounded and present. He wasn’t on the Revenge anymore or wandering through town. He was inside your room, his hands in yours. The place he felt safest in this port.

“Izzy…what happened?” you asked, nothing but worry and concern on your face.

“...Bonnet left,” was the only answer you got, his voice void of any emotion.

Bonnet, the other captain they had been sailing with. Izzy didn’t like talking about it but it had been obvious that he didn’t like the man, you would have thought that him leaving would be a good thing.

“Okay…okay, and what else?” you asked carefully, just wanting to understand, wanting to know how to help.

“Edward he…he’s different. He’s hurt and…fuck…” his voice caught in his throat, voice cracking slightly.

“Alright, love, it’s okay. You’re safe here, just breathe with me,” you were quick to soothe him again, an instinctual reaction to his distress.

“Come on, lets get some of these suffocating clothes off.” 

When Izzy didn’t protest, you slowly removed his waistcoat and cravat, just like you usually did. The only difference was you being a little more on watch for signs of protest or discomfort than usual.

Then you moved onto his boots, removing one and then the other. As you slid off his second boot, you saw the bandage wrapped around his foot. You frowned to yourself, thumb tracing the edge of the bandage. Was he missing a toe?

“Oh…what happened?” you weren't sure if you would get an answer and you wouldn’t push if he didn’t want to talk about it.

“It doesn’t…” Izzy was going to dismiss it, brush you off, but then he looked down at you properly, made the mistake of meeting your gaze. You were looking up at him through your lashes with sad, caring eyes. Fuck, if he didn’t know any better he’d think you actually cared. “It was Edward,” he found himself almost unable to lie to you, “punishment for Bonnet leaving.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you knew better than to discuss that mess with him, but you made sure to give him the sympathy he deserved. “Does it still hurt?”

“Yeah, it’s healing alright, though,” Izzy admitted.

“I’m so sorry, Izzy,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his ankle, short and tender. Izzy choked on a silent gasp, but you moved on like it was nothing. “Do you want to talk about it?” you asked.

“No…no, please.” He couldn’t talk about it, he just couldn’t. Right now, he just wanted you to do whatever it was you did that made everything feel manageable again.

“Then it won’t be mentioned again, love,” you promised before releasing his injured foot.

You stood again but remained close. You undid a few buttons of his shirt, hoping it might help him feel like breathing was a little easier.

“Want to lie down?” you asked. Simple choices were probably the best thing to offer him right now.

“Please,” Izzy breathed out.

The two of you found yourselves huddled up in the centre of the bed like you usually did, cradling Izzy close to your body. “I’ve got you, Izzy. Just close all of that out for now. That��s out there, in here it’s just us,” you reminded him softly. 

Outside was cold and dangerous and difficult, but in here it was warm and soft and safe.

It was like you flipped a switch, Izzy snapping and finally letting the dam break. The first broken cry he let out made your chest again, you had never seen him this bad before. He sobbed into your neck, letting out everything he was feeling. You didn’t care that he was wetting your clothes or pillows, you only held him tighter.

You weren’t keeping an eye on the time as he cried, just focused on soothing the way his body shook. When the tears dried and the shaking stopped, you wiped the left over wetness from his face and kissed his forehead.

“Sleep, love. You need it.”

Izzy knew it wasn’t a good idea to fall asleep in your bed but he didn’t have it in him to protest or tell you all the reasons why he shouldn’t. He finally let the exhaustion flood over him and sink into his bones. He fell asleep in your arms.

When Izzy leaves that session, it was reluctant, a look of longing and dread mixing in his features. He left a larger tip this time than usual, as if you needed monetary reparations for holding him through his breakdown. You supposed he was just paying you for a service and you certainly didn’t make a habit of forgetting that with clients, but you couldn’t deny when real connections formed and occurred.

-

Two months passed with no sign of Izzy. It was uncommon these days to not see the man on his nearly timetabled visits, but you tried not to let it bother you, tried not to let the others see the way you scanned the bar for the familiar leather. He was a pirate and a client, it wasn’t something you should even think about, certainly not something you should dwell on. But the state he had been in when you last saw him…

“Your leather clad little man hasn’t dropped by for a while,” Mark commented one morning, managing to catch you alone.

“Do you all know about him?” you asked with a small huff. First Val, now Mark.

“He kinda stands out,” Mark defended himself.

“Oh, we’re talking about your pirate?” Val asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You just sighed, accepting your nosy co-workers. “Something go wrong last time?”

Despite how concerned you had been for Izzy after his last visit and how it had sat in the back of your mind, you hadn’t spoken a word to any of your friends. You had promised that much to Izzy and you would respect that.

“He’s just a client,” you insisted petulantly.

“Maybe so, but you at least care about him somewhat,” Mark pointed out as if it was obvious. You just glared at him. “You know that young, quiet fella that comes in here?” you sighed and nodded, letting him make his argument. “He’s a sweetheart. Ain’t gonna fall in love with him or nothing, but I wish him the best. Kinda care about what happens to him,” he admitted with a small shrug.

“Fine, alright…I guess I’m just worried,” you confessed.

“Worried?” Val frowned a little. They knew he was a pirate, a pretty renowned one, but you had never seemed overly worried about him being at sea before.

“He normally comes in about once a month, right?” you recalled and they nodded knowingly. “His ship circles back here regularly, he comes here when they dock. It’s a little strange they haven’t stopped by for two months and last time he admitted that the situation was a little…uncertain,” you didn’t want to give too many details, nothing about Izzy’s condition, but your friends wanted to support you and maybe you needed their support.

“Think something happened to him?” Mark asked.

“Maybe. Something was just so wrong last time I saw him, y’know? Can’t quite let it go,” you dragged your hand over your face. You had never gotten attached to a client. You’ve had sympathy for them in certain circumstances, you were all human after all, but never like this.

“Hey, we’re here for you,” Val’s voice was soft and comforting as she embraced you, letting you deflate against her.

-

It was another two months later because a familiar leather clad figure walked into the main room.

You were perched on the edge of a table, speaking with a group of men, giggling at their shitty jokes and batting your lashes at them. Glancing over at the door when you heard it had become a habit for you, so it wasn’t surprising that you saw him almost immediately.

At the sight of the familiar man, you froze. You felt like your body was buzzing. “If you excuse me gentlemen, I think I need to get myself a drink,” you tried to maintain your sultry expression as you slipped off of the table. You think you managed to play it pretty cool. “I’ll send some of my friends over?”

The men all gave an affirmative, cheering among themselves. You flashed them a final wink before spinning and crossing the room, instantly forgetting all about them.

Izzy was standing by the bar, but he just waved Sammy away when he asked what he wanted. He turned at the sound of footsteps, there was only one person here who bothered approaching him anymore.

“My room?” Normally you would be so direct, would play the little game you usually do, but something felt like that was necessary this time. It didn’t feel like it was expected.

Izzy nodded.

You turned on your heel, hearing your blood rushing in your ears as you walked up to your room. Izzy didn’t linger behind, only a few steps behind you. You entered the room first and he locked the door before just looking at you, seeming unsure of himself. Your routine had been disturbed, he didn’t know where he stood. All he knew when the ship docked at this port was that there was only one place he actually wanted to go.

“You’re alive,” you observed intelligently.

“You thought otherwise?” Izzy asked, though he didn’t actually sound very offended or surprised. It was a valid risk in his line of work.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure. After what you said last time and it being so long…I was worried,” you confessed. You always wanted him to be open and vulnerable with you, it only felt fair to offer some of the same.

Izzy frowned a little. “Worried?” 

He was…surprised? Confused? “Of course, I was worried, Izzy,” you rolled your eyes fondly, shaking your head in disbelief. Could you spend so much time with somebody in such a vulnerable state without coming to care for them in some way?

“Well, uh…I’m alright,” Izzy reassured, like he had never had to do that before. Not sincerely anyway. 

“Good,” you smiled, hoping that he knew that you truly were happy he was alright. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking,” it had been bugging you for months now but you knew there was a good chance Izzy wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“Edward didn’t want to stop at ports for a while, I won’t get into it. Bonnet came back and things were…I wasn’t sure how things were going to go,” Izzy admitted, something close to fear flashing on his face. A memory of the Gentleman Pirate’s return. “Guess things have just gone back to normal, they finally decided to stop by a port and restock properly, repair the ship. Things are…still getting figured out, it’s unstable but…it’s better.”

“And you?” As pleased as you were to hear that things appeared to be looking up for his crew, you were more concerned about how he was.

Izzy blinked at you, head tilting ever so slightly to the side. “What do you mean?”

“How are you?”

Izzy seemed to consider it for a moment. He was a lot of things, had been a lot more things over the last few months, most of which he had tried to repress and push down as deep as possible. “...tired,” he admitted, shoulders dropping.

You smiled affectionately, a little sadly. “Let’s get you some rest then, yeah?” you both knew what that meant.

“Yeah,” Izzy sighed, giving his assent.

You worked in silence as you carefully went about your routine, stripping him of his more confining layers. As you removed his boots, you sneaked a peek at his two to see that it was more healed than when you last saw it.

You lay him down on plush pillows and blankets before joining him on the bed, caressing his cheek. Izzy let out a soft breath, leaning into your warm touch. “Glad to have you back, Iz,” you whispered out into the silence, “I missed you.”

It makes him ache, that somebody might actually be able to say those words to him and actually mean it. It was those moments that he craved the most with you, and yet they were the same moments that most reminded him that you were being paid for just this.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from yours as you brushed your thumb over the tattoo under his eye. You shifted forward and then your lips were touching his. The kiss was light and tender, chaste even. Izzy still gasped into it, still stared at you like you hung the stars when you pulled back from him.

“Let’s get you comfy,” you smiled, letting him curl up into your embrace.

-

Izzy’s next visit was about a month later, and you were pleased to see that your usual schedule seemed to be returning. He also seemed more like himself than he was on his last two visits, and that pleased you as well. He was always stressed, you were beginning to think it was in his nature, but he seemed less stressed this visit. Maybe things back on his ship and with his crew were doing better these days.

You didn’t go about your normal routine of telling Sammy that you would be in your room where Izzy could overhear so he could join you a few minutes later. He just followed you up. 

When offered a nap or a bath, Izzy chose a bath. It both surprised and pleased you, he seemed to enjoy his bath the last time you offered one. 

You had the tub filled with warm water and set up the room divider to offer some privacy. Izzy disappeared behind the divider and sank down into the bath.

You listened to the movement of water from the otherside of the divider. “Mind if I come around?” you asked. You had seen him bathe that last time, gave him privacy to climb into the tub before sitting with him just the same, but still thought it best to ask.

“Sure.”

You rounded the divider with a smile and sat on the stool beside the tub. “Want some help?” you offered.

Izzy considered it for a moment. You thought it was such a big step that he was even considering it, if you had offered such an intimate gesture during his first couple of visits he surely would have ran from the room. 

He had only bathed in your room once before and you hadn’t touched him during it, just sat and talked with him while he soaked. Izzy took a moment to remind himself that you had always been beyond respectful of his boundaries, only wanting to give what he wanted to receive.

“Yeah, okay,” Izzy nodded and you tried not to let your glee show.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you worked, first starting with his hair. Lathering the shampoo and massaging it into his scalp. Izzy found himself drifting away under your touch, a fuzzy feeling appearing in the back of his head. You were really good at this, he couldn’t remember the last time somebody washed his hair for him. Must have been when he was a very young boy.

Once his hair was cleaned, you moved on to washing his body. You took your time, taking things slow, making sure you didn’t surprise him with any touches, that he could always anticipate where your hands were going next.

You knew he was hard, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t. Your hand had brushed against him as you dragged the soapy cloth over his stomach. It had made his breath hitch loudly but neither of you commented on it, letting it pass as an innocent accident.

Once you were satisfied with your job, you placed the cloth down over the side of the tub but dipped your hand back into the water. It was still warm but cooling. Your fingertips grazed against his knee, making Izzy twitch but he didn’t comment on it, just watched you. 

Slowly and softly, you slid your hand up the inside of his thigh. Before your hand could reach the very top of his thigh, Izzy caught you around your wrist and you stopped immediately, meeting his gaze.

“You make the rules, Iz, you set the boundaries. Will only do what you want,” you reminded him, soft but serious.

Izzy assessed you for a moment, eyes flickering over your features. He must find what he was searching for because he slowly released your wrist and took his hand away.

“Will you let me make you feel good, Iz?” you asked, still not wanting to progress without clear consent. Izzy nodded, you smiled softly. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Yeah…” Izzy’s voice was quiet but it didn’t shake, he sounded sure.

“Thank you, love.”

He nearly fucking passed out. Did you just fucking thank him? Thank him for letting you touch him, letting you get him off, what the fuck?

Your hand was soft and your hold was just firm enough. Your touch was sweet and slow, nothing about it feeling rushed. Izzy gasped out, more from surprise than anything. He’d been tugged off before, it was…fine. This was better somehow.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked.

Izzy nodded and was rewarded with two things. Your mouth against his and a twist of your wrist, he gasped into your mouth again.

The way you kissed him was deep and slow, all consuming. It set his nerves on fire, his hands gripping on the edges of the tub. He could touch you, he supposed, didn’t think you would scold him for it, but still avoided it. 

Instead, he just let himself lose himself to the sensations you provided. Your kisses trailed over his jaw and neck, covering every inch of flushed skin, but they were always soft and sweet, never hurried or biting. Like you were fucking savouring it.

It wasn’t long, almost embarrassingly quick, before Izzy felt the fire curling in his belly. You just praised him for his release, smiling sweetly at him. You worked him through his high, pulling your hand away just as overstimulation began to creep in.

You took the dirtied cloth to quickly clean him up again before pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

Izzy followed your lead, stepping out of the bath and drying off. He only put his smalls back on before climbing into the bed, the most undressed he had ever been in your sheets.

You lay on your back, cradling his head against your chest and playing with his hair. Izzy just lay there, being held by you, his mind racing. He couldn’t help but feel like he had tarnished something.

He was under no illusions about what this was but he had felt like your little arrangement was somewhat…pure. You both understood what you had, what you were doing, and now he felt like it was tainted. And it was his fault. He had ruined this.

This was literally your job, to be whatever he paid for, right? It was his own fault for feeling some sort of connection that didn’t actually exist, that you had fabricated by his request. If he didn’t feel pathetic before, he did now. Surely, getting off was what most people aimed for when hiring your services, it was his fault for asking for something different. He could keep playing along but he was worried that you would assume he had gotten what he came for, that all of these visits had just been some elaborate build up to his orgasm. But, surely, if he just kept paying you…you would still do all the things he liked, right? The company, the gentle touches, you would still hold him and let him talk, right?

You sighed as his breathing evened out and Izzy fell asleep on you. You planted another kiss to the top of his head, just for yourself. You didn’t think you would have it in you to wake him when the time came, he just looked so peaceful.

It really had been difficult for you to bring yourself to wake him when the time came but you knew you had to, he would only be leaving stressed if he was off schedule. So, you woke him up gently and helped him dress just to see his face heat up.

You saw him out like you usually do but this time you asked for another kiss before he left. He granted your request, even though he didn’t understand why you would even make the offer when your time was up.

The kiss was just as gentle as the one you previously gave him, a little more chaste. It was sweet and tender, and left the first mate reeling as he made his way back to the ship, feeling looser than ever.

-

As soon as Izzy was dismissed for his shore leave about a month later, he waited for the chattering crew to diverse before making his way to his usual spot. He knew the route like the back of his hand.

He went about his usual routine, setting up at the bar and ordering a rum that he may or may not drink. Of course, he noticed as soon as he was through the door that you weren’t there in the main room. He could wait, though. 

Izzy tensed as two forms came up on either side of him. “They’re in their room, it’s they’re day off,” the young man on his left told him.

Izzy paused, looking between the two of them. A young man and a young woman on his other side, both vaguely familiar. They worked with you, had probably noticed he was a regular of yours. Best not to ask many questions.

“Right,” Izzy nodded as he stood from the stool, making to leave the little establishment. 

“Hold on!” the young woman stopped him. “You should go see them,” she advised.

Izzy squinted at her, “...they’re not working today.”

“Listen, man, I’ll give you one piece of advice,” the man placed a hand on his shoulder, only confusing Izzy further. “Ask ‘em out.”

Izzy pulled abruptly away from the other man’s touch. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He couldn’t help but feel like he was being mocked.

“Just do it,” the man rolled his eyes.

“You know their room,” the woman winked before dragging the man off with her, leaving Izzy thrown and confused.

As Val dragged Mark away, he complained about people being dense while she chastised him and told him to ease up on the whole thing a little.

Izzy shook his head, trying to be reasonable. They probably just meant that you might take the job anyway, he did tip well after all. He might as well give it a shot, could always blame your friends if you laughed in his face.

He trudged up the stairs and came to your door, reconsidering before convincing himself to just knock on the door. He barely had to wait before the door was pulled open.

“Izzy?” you were clearly surprised to see him but your face also lit up at the sight of him. Izzy just wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“Sorry, I know it’s your day off. Two of your friends, I think, sent me up,” Izzy felt the need to explain himself.

“That was probably Val and Mark,” you sighed, not all that surprised that they had to get themselves involved. “So, what’s up?”

“I, uh…I don’t know, I guess.” You still couldn’t help but be endeared by him.

“Well, like you said, I’m not working today,” you repeated, seeing the way Izzy’s expression dropped slightly as he nodded in understanding. “But I could go for something to eat, you could come with me if you want,” you suggested, feeling like taking that chance was the right thing to do.

“I don’t…”

“Yeah, sorry, stupid idea,” you shook your head, cutting him off before he could drop his rejection. You knew it was a long shot, asking a client and infamous first mate of the mighty Blackbeard out on a date was absolutely ridiculous. If anyone you worked with saying they were going to do the same thing, you would laugh in their face. A terrible idea.

Izzy at least picked up on your slight panic. “No, it’s not that. Just…you want me to go with you?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“I’d like some pleasant company,” you shrugged, “if you want to go with me, that is.”

For a moment, Izzy was certain he was misunderstanding you or something. But, no. You were asking him to go get some food with you, and that felt like…something. “Yeah, sure, let’s go,” he agreed.

That had you smiling properly again. “Great, I know somewhere good.”

You quickly grabbed your jacket and locked your door before heading out with him. As you left, passing through the main room downstairs, you didn’t see Val anywhere but Mark caught sight of you and shot you a wink as you passed by. You shot him a glare in return before slipping out of the door with Izzy.

Izzy found himself following you through the familiar port town, unsure where exactly you were leading him but allowing you to anyway. A part of him expected you to walk a little ahead of him, since you knew where you were going and he didn’t, but instead you stayed firmly by his side.

“Huh.” The soft noise made Izzy look at you, caught off guard by the way you were looking back at him. Eyes sparking.

“What?” he asked gruffly, insecure under your gaze.

“I’ve never actually seen you outside, like, in direct sunlight,” you mused.

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” Izzy cleared his throat, keeping his gaze straight ahead, unable to look at you.

You laughed a little, slapping his arm playfully. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Talking down to yourself,” you chastised softly. “You’re handsome, and you’re good to spend time with, you need to start seeing that.”

Izzy felt his heart clenching in his chest. You sounded so sincere, like you really meant it, and it was killing him. “You remember I’m not paying you right?”

You laughed again, though more in disbelief than with humour. “I’m a very good actor but you never paid me to act. Never lied to you, Izzy.”

Izzy sighed slightly, trying to put the pieces together, trying to figure out what you were trying to say. “You’re very good at your job.” He wasn’t exactly sure why he said it but he meant it, you always managed to make him feel…wanted.

Another soft laugh. “Thank you but I’m off duty, and would you look at that,” you lent in conspiratorially. “I still want to spend the day with you,” you smiled, nudging your arm against his.

“Why?” Izzy couldn’t help but question you, couldn’t just let himself accept something nice like this.

“Because I like you, I’ve told you that,” you rolled your eyes but were still smiling fondly. “Now, any dietary requirements?”

Izzy frowned as he looked at you properly, your question throwing him off. “What?”

“I’m taking you out for food,” you reminded him.

“Oh, right. Uh, no dairy.”

“Got it!”

Even though it was exactly what you said you were going to do, a part of Izzy was still a little surprised when he found himself sitting outside of a little eatery with you, eating and talking. It was…well, it was nice. He felt comfortable.

Izzy offered to pay for the food instead of paying for your time, but you had tutted and paid anyway.

“I would have paid,” Izzy muttered as the two of you started walking through town again.

“I know, which is why I paid,” you sighed, coming to a halt. Izzy frowned, stopping as well and turning to you. Once he was properly looking at you, you spoke again. “Listen very clearly Izzy. I am not working right now, I am not doing anything currently that is related to my job, I am just getting something to eat with somebody whose company I enjoy.”

“...oh.” Izzy really did just need it all spelled out for him, didn’t he? You supposed it was fair, considering what your arrangement had been up until now. “Okay.”

You smiled at his acceptance. “Come on,” you took hold of his hand and started guiding him through town again.

As you walked, Izzy stared down at your intertwined hands. His mind raced, trying to fully comprehend what was going on, while just letting you lead the way. Was what the two of you shared real? Had it become something real or were you just humouring him? 

Despite spending most of the time worrying about, well, everything, Izzy found himself actually having a good time. Enjoying your company, finding himself relaxing. It had all been going so well, until the usual nuisance appeared out of nowhere. 

“Izzy!” an excitable blond man approached with a bright smile, making you pause. It only stung a little when Izzy pulled his hand out of yours. “Is this your recruit?” he asked.

“Recruit?” you frowned at Izzy, confused about who this man was and what he was talking about.

Your confusion was almost overtaken by concern when you got a good look at his face. The poor guy looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.

“Oh, perhaps Izzy hasn’t mentioned it yet,” the man cleared his throat like he was preparing for a speech. “I’m Captain Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate, of the Revenge and we are looking to recruit new crew members. We’re a little on the short side and we have sent the crew out to find any new recruits with potential.”

Oh, so this is Stede Bonnet. It made sense with the descriptions and complaints Izzy had uttered from time to time.

“It’s a pleasure, Captain Bonnet,” you nodded politely before turning back to Izzy. “So, am I your recruit, Izzy?”

“I…” He was shaking.

“Well, do you have any skills that would be useful on a pirate ship?” Stede asked, covering for, what he perceived to be, Izzy's poor social skills.

You and Izzy looked at each other, trying to get a feel for what the other was thinking. His eye twitched, you’re just amused.

“I’m great with knots,” you declared proudly. Izzy had to cough to cover up a startled laugh.

“Wonderful!” Stede’s smile widened. “They seem like a wonderful pick, I’ll let you finish up here. I suppose I might see you both back at the ship later on,” he nodded his goodbyes before continuing his path into town.

“Good with knots?” Izzy raised an eyebrow at you once Stede was out of sight.

“I am! Maybe I’ll show you one day,” you winked, earning a sweet blush from him.

“Let’s just move before Bonnet decides to come back,” he grumbled but you only laughed as he tugged you away by the hand.

Once Izzy felt that there was enough distance between him and Stede Bonnet, he began to relax and slow his pace. That’s when you decided to speak again.

“So you’re looking for new crew?” you asked.

“Edward finally came to his senses, realised that Bonnet’s crew is too small to properly maintain the ship. Even if they were decent fighters, we’re too outnumbered to conduct worthwhile raids,” Izzy explained. “Bonnet’s brilliant idea was to send the crew out at port to pick up any interested parties.” Of course, he thought he and Edward should be in charge of recruiting, with Fang and Ivan offering assistance. You know, since they actually knew what they were looking for.

“So, do you have an eye on anyone for the job?”

“Haven’t really looked around yet. We docked just before I came by your place,” he shrugged. You smiled to yourself, thinking it was just a little sweet that the first thing he did was come to see you.

“I am really good with knots,” you told him.

“Nautical knots?”

“Yeah.” He raised an eyebrow at you doubtfully. “What? I’ve met a lot of sailors,” you huffed, making Izzy laugh.

You laughed along softly, liking that your job doesn’t freak him out. That he can laugh about it just like you can, that he doesn’t get uncomfortable about. Still respects you and still accepted your invitation to dinner.

“I mean, if you’re looking for a new career, you could easily bluff your way into the crew,” Izzy shrugged. To be fair, he didn’t think they would be that difficult to fool.

You looked at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or not. “Really?”

“Bonnet seems to like you enough, Edward would probably see through you but give you a chance anyway if Bonnet likes you. The crew would like you and you’d probably be a better pirate than most of them.” You really couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“Izzy,” you spoke a little firmer than usual, bringing him to a halt. “Are you asking me to join the crew?” you asked.

“It’s your choice-”

“No, Izzy, listen,” you cut him off, needing a direct answer to a specific question. “Are you, Izzy Hands, asking me to join your crew. To sail on the same ship as you. Are you asking me to sail with you, as an actual deckhand, where you will see me every day?” 

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other. Izzy processing exactly what you were asking and exactly what him inviting you to join the crew would involve.

“...yeah,” Izzy answered before squaring his shoulders, looking a little more confident when he spoke again. “Yes. I’m asking you to join the crew, if that’s something you would be interested in.”

Well, that was fairly direct. Still, you needed to know one more thing. “I have one question,” he nodded for you to ask it. “Was this, today, a date?”

“A date?” he repeated dumbly.

“I didn’t come out with you or spend time with you for money. Was today a date?” 

“You’re the one who asked me to get something eat.”

“Okay, then, would you have liked it to be a date? A proper date.”

He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. You felt yourself deflating. Even if he did want that, if he couldn’t say it, you couldn’t join the crew. It wouldn’t be fair to you and you wouldn’t do that to yourself. You were just about to give up when he spoke.

“...yes.” The answer was quiet, making you look at him for some sort of confirmation that you had heard him right. He was blushing, his face a deep red, and was averting his gaze. “Yes, I guess I would,” he nodded, still not looking at you properly. There was…something like embarrassment in his expression.

“Izzy?” you spoke softly, shifting a little closer to him.

He looked at you then, determined but nervous. “I know it’s your job, I know I was paying you and it was just that. I knew I needed what I was asking for you but I guess I didn’t know how much I needed it. I have seen whores before, for the same thing…they were never as good as you. Thought you were just better at your job but began to realise that…that I just happen to like you more,” he confessed.

“I like you too, Izzy,” you smiled softly. “It was just a job, it was for a long time, we know better than to get close to clients, to buy into whatever they’re presenting. But I guess I just couldn’t help it with you, I grew fond, grew attached.”

Your little admission seemed to give Izzy the spark of confidence he needed to officially make the offer. “It’s fucking insane, I know that, but do you want to join the crew of the Revenge?”

“Yeah…I think I’d like that,” you nodded, suggesting, “and maybe we can get to know each other properly?”

“I’d like that too,” Izzy smiled back at you.

“Izzy?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Izzy swallowed down the lump in his throat and nodded, not trusting his voice enough for a verbal response. Maybe those kisses you had given him had been genuine, done out of your own desire rather than obligation.

You stepped closer yet again, closing the distance between you both. Your hands cradled his face as you brought your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

You hadn’t kissed him goodbye that last time because he paid you or because you felt you had to provide an experience, you were off the clock. You had kissed him goodbye, all sweet and lingering, because you wanted too. Just like you were kissing him now. Just because you wanted to.

Izzy kissed you back, not held back by the worry that you didn’t actually want him. You did want him. You wanted him and were choosing him. You held him and kissed him because he meant something to you.

Maybe it was because of that that he kissed you like he may never get another chance. You had kissed him before but this was different, this felt like the true first, those boundaries crashing down around you both. Allowing each other to know how you really felt.

When you pulled away from the kiss, you were smiling, hands falling down to his shoulders. “I guess I’ll have to pack so how about one last visit to my room before we head to the ship?”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Izzy almost felt like he was dreaming, like this wasn’t actually happening, as you led him back to the brothel. When the two of you entered, Val was in the main room but Mark wasn’t this time. She just grinned when she saw you, following you both up to your room.

“Thought you weren’t working!” Val teased, following you both inside. Izzy felt his face flush while you just rolled your eyes.

“I’m not!” you huffed. “Uh…well, it’s kinda sudden but there’s something I need to tell you…”

Val listened intently as you told her about your new plans, about how you were going to become a pirate. She had smirked and looked at Izzy now and again, knowing you had no real interest in pirating. That wasn’t the reason you were stepping foot on that ship. Of course, she expressed her concerns but supported your decision.

As you packed your things, Val was chastising Izzy and making him promise not to let anything bad happen to you. Izzy made those promises sincerely while you just laughed at her protectiveness.

Once she was satisfied that he wouldn’t let you get gutted on a raid or by an angry captain, she insisted on fussing with his hair until you were done collecting what you would be taking with you. You were pretty sure she was testing him in some way only she understood.

Thankfully, it didn’t take you long to pack the things you would be taking with you.

“Alright, you,” you batted Val away from a tense and flustered Izzy, giving him some space. “We’re leaving later, I want to say goodbye to everyone first.”

“You better and you better send letters,” Val scolded.

“Val!”

“I’m going!” 

She barely got the words out before you had closed the door on her.

-

Izzy stood back with your bags as you said your goodbyes. Then men and women you worked with pulled you into embraces, pressed kisses to your face and the top of your head as they wished you luck and told you to write.

The Madam had embraced you, kissing both of your cheeks and your forehead before releasing you. She had always been a good and fair Madam, had always been good to you and you would miss her. You would miss all of them. 

Said Madam had also snuck off to threaten Izzy with torture and death if he did wrong by you, he had taken it and promised everything he could. She must have believed him because she left his side without maiming him. Leaving him to watch you say your farewells.

You went back for a few more hugs before returning to Izzy’s side, telling him you were ready to leave. He insisted on carrying your bags for you. You had rolled your eyes fondly and let him carry them as he led you to the Revenge.

When you arrived and boarded using the gangplank, the crew was already gathered on the deck. Stede was standing beside Edward, looking rather disappointed.

“Iz!” Edward grinned when he saw the first mate, not faltering at the unfamiliar face beside him.

“Ah, at least somebody found a new recruit,” Stede huffed. The rest of the crew murmured apologies, having apparently failed their tasks.

“Unsurprisingly, I’m the only one who did the fucking job,” Izzy grumbled.

“Oh come on!” Lucius scoffed. “They’re a pirate but I’m not?” he asked knowingly. You just winked at him, making him shake his head.

“Lucius, please, be welcoming to our new crewmember,” Stede scolded, earning a dramatic sigh from Lucius.

“Welcome aboard! Let me give you the tour,” Stede was dragging you off before you or Izzy could even protest.

Thankfully, the crew didn’t have much to say to Izzy and started to busy themselves with idle chatter. Edward, on the other hand, sidled up to Izzy with a small smirk.

“Really, Iz?”

“Shut the fuck up, Edward.”

“I think it’ll be good for you,” Ed threw an arm around Izzy’s shoulders, giving him a friendly shake. Izzy muttered a string of curses, beginning to wish the sea would open up and swallow him whole.

At least the teasing felt worth it when you emerged from below deck, conversing with Stede. Whatever you were talking about clearly had Stede’s full attention, his smile growing as he animatedly contributed. Your smile was bright and friendly, but your expression noticeably softened when you looked over at Izzy. Yeah, it was worth it. He had made the right decision.

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #ofmd izzy #our flag means death izzy #ofmd x reader

[roseandgold137]

Fleet-Footed Fever

Bart grumbled as Max dragged him along the path. He ignored his clammy skin while he pulled his goggles off. The headache behind his eyes was just from them, obviously. No other reason. “You know I run hot! You said it was a speedster thing!” 

“Running a couple of degrees warmer is normal for speedsters,” Max agreed. “Running almost ten degrees warmer is not. I’m surprised you’re even able to have this conversation with me at all.” He took Bart’s goggles with his free hand, and Bart stumbled to keep up with his long strides. Any other time, he’d have sped ahead, but it was like he had some kind of block in his head. “Once we’re home,  you’re going to drink some water and then you’re going to bed.”

“It’s not even six yet!” Bart exclaimed. “I feel fine!”

Max stopped abruptly and cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so? Then I’m sure you’d have no trouble running home?” He held Bart’s goggles in front of him. Bart knew he was being baited, and hell was it working. Bart snatched the goggles with a scowl, stomping a bit away from Max before tugging them over his head. He stomped a few feet away, then took a deep breath. Who did Max think he was, anyway? Bart knew he was fine. Max was just overreacting. 

Bart sprinted off in a crackle of thunder and lightning, tearing right past the house and beyond. Yeah, he’d kinda meant to stop there, but whatever. He’d prove to Max just how fine he was. Buildings were there and gone, biomes shifted from rural to urban to some kind of tundra, and Bart kept running. He was fine. He could run around the world, like, fifty times over right now. No problem. Bart dodged some sort of tall lopsided tower and kept running. He ran, faster and faster and faster, to the point where he couldn’t even see his fleeting surroundings. His breath came in short puffs. Faster, faster, faster –

——

Bart came to groggily in – in his bed? Huh. Okay. He sat up, dizzily taking in the room. Comic stack on his desk, clothes on the floor beside it, Max in the doorway, Superboy poster Kon had given him as a joke – 

Bart blinked blankly at Max. Max stared back, then spoke. “Did you enjoy your run?” When Bart didn’t answer, Max continued. “When I suggested you run, I meant for you to go for a short sprint and realise that you were in no shape to continue. You’re only lucky you weren’t running across the Atlantic when you finally gave out.”

Bart flopped back down with a groan. “I was doing fine.”

“Was,” Max repeated. “In any case, your temperature is up again; I’ll have some soup ready soon. Try to get some more sleep in the meantime.” His face softened. “I’ll call the school, let them know you won’t be in tomorrow.” With that, he turned and left. Unfortunately, not even the promise of no school made Bart feel better; now that he couldn’t deny it, he did feel miserable. His head was pounding and his throat felt like the Gobi Desert. 

The Superboy poster judged him as he slunk out of bed, like a disgruntled slime creature. Bart needed to do something. Yeah, rest, whatever, but first, water. After much stumbling, he managed to reach the doorway. Max had put him in loose pants and a looser t-shirt, and he kept tripping over the ends. With the wall as a support, he made the trek down the hall. He could have sworn the house was way smaller than this. And he was pretty sure the walls moved less.  

Max found him ten minutes later, dozing on the carpet. “Bart? What on earth are you doing here?” Bart hummed, but didn’t bother with moving. Max crouched next to him with a sigh. “Can you please get up? This is hardly comfortable.” Bart grunted, and managed to make one arm flop to the side. Max murmured something, then scooped Bart up by his armpits. Bart made an indignant noise. 

“You can complain all you want once you’ve eaten,” Max said, hefting Bart onto his shoulder. Bart dangled there limply, closing his eyes against the nauseous spinning of the hall. Max dropped him onto the couch, and tossed a fleece over him. Bart couldn’t much react beyond a slow blink and a hum. Max returned with two bowls, which he left on the coffee table. Bart sunk deeper into the couch. 

“I’m not hungry,” he croaked, and winced. He’d never actually made it to any water. 

Max frowned, brow furrowed. “You’ll still have to eat,” he said. “You can’t take the medicine on an empty stomach.” At Bart’s grimace, he added, “Try a few spoonfuls, at least. It’ll do you good.” He pushed one of the bowls towards him. Bart picked it up with shaky hands, bringing it back towards him as soon as possible. The warmth from the soup was pleasant on his stomach. 

Max took his temperature again while he stirred the soup. His face twitched at the number. Bart made a questioning sound around his next spoonful. 

“It’s… fine,” Max said, not very convincingly. “Don’t worry about it.” Bart narrowed his eyes at him, or tried to, but the room began to spin again, so he quickly gave up on that endeavour. Max dropped a hand to Bart’s hair, stroking lightly as he thought. “We’ll keep an eye on it. How’s the soup?”

“Good,” Bart said. It was good – Bart wondered if Max had actually made it, or if it was one of those canned ones in the store. The trouble wasn’t the taste of the soup; it was his rebellious stomach. He left the spoon in the half-full bowl, and dropped it to the table. “Thanks. Sorry.”

Max hummed, but he didn’t push the issue. “I’ll get the medicine, so.”  Bart closed his eyes and listened to Max’s regular footsteps fade away down the hall. He’d fallen into a doze when Max returned, blearily sitting up to take the portion Max offered. Swallowing made him wince, and the medicine burned slightly on the way down. He coughed into his elbow. Max turned on the television, setting it to one of those ocean documentaries, and pulled out one of his newspapers. It wasn’t long before Bart began to nod off. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he felt Max tuck the fleece more securely around him before he drifted off completely. 

——

Bart’s shadow stretched in front of him, illuminated by the light from the kitchen. He couldn’t even remember why he’d wanted to go outside, but he’d gotten antsy, just sitting around. A little run to clear his head couldn’t be that bad, could it?

He wandered out onto the grass – oh, he’d forgotten his shoes – and kicked a few leaves aside. Just a quick run, yeah. Make his bones less jittery. He made it all the way to the gate before he remembered that he wanted to run, really run, not amble his way around. He leaned on the fence, eyes drooping of their own accord. Yeah. A quick run. Nothing too serious. 

He’d hardly started when Max grabbed his collar, holding him aloft like an unruly kitten. “Bart, what are you doing?” He plopped Bart back onto the ground. 

“I was going for a run,” Bart said, though it came out almost as a question. Max sighed, and turned Bart so they were facing each other. 

“Bart, you’re sick. That means rest. Not midnight sprints.” He held the back of his hand to Bart’s forehead. “Hmm. We need to check your temperature again.”

“But why can’t I run?” Bart whined, trotting glumly behind Max. “I’m going to go crazy, Max.”

“You’re not well enough,” Max said. “You don’t have the energy left over for running; all of it has to be dedicated to getting better. Which is why your little run around the world left you unconscious, and why you will not be repeating that again now.”

“Oh,” Bart said.

“Oh,” Max agreed. “Now, go back to bed. And stay in it, this time.”

——

“Max? Max, where are you?” Bart fumbled with the blanket. It wouldn’t budge from where it had been tightly wrapped around him. He gave up with a huff. “Maaax.”

Max’s hand ruffled Bart’s hair from behind the couch. “Relax, Bart. Go to sleep.” Then he was gone again. Bart wriggled in his prison of comfort, wrangling a single arm free and flailing randomly until he hit something – Max’s now-cooled tea. In one uncharacteristically slow blink, Bart watched as the mug was propelled off the counter in a lacklustre arc. Bart could already imagine the stain that would be left on the carpet. He wondered if Max would make him clean it up. That wasn’t what happened. 

Max’s hand reappeared, shooting forward and saving the mug from its untimely death. “Careful.”

Bart made a frustrated sound, pushing himself up on his freed arm. “I’m bored.” He kicked against the blankets fruitlessly. “Let me go.”

Max huffed a laugh. “Well, I don’t think I could necessarily trap you here, even if I had really wanted to. But I think it’s in your best interests to just let the medicine work. And go to sleep, Bart.” He tucked the blanket back around Bart’s formerly free arm, and settled in the armchair, a new cup of tea in his palms. “Would you like to watch anything in particular?” Bart grumbled nonsense. Max nodded sagely. “Yes, of course. My favourite. How lovely of you.” The television switched to some miscellaneous nature documentary. Sea slugs? Bart squinted briefly at the screen then promptly gave up, turning his face into the arm of the couch. It didn’t matter, anyway, he’d probably hear about it tomorrow morning at breakfast. 

——

Hear about it he did. Bart stared blankly at his soggy cereal while Max gave him a rundown of the show, even though they both knew that Bart wasn’t retaining any of this information at all. Bart coughed into his elbow and sunk into his seat. 

“All good?” Max said, lowering his newspaper. Bart coughed once more and dropped his head to the table with a groan. Max rubbed his back sympathetically. “Feeling sick?” Bart shook his head. “Headache?” Bart shrugged. “Hmm, maybe you should go back to sleep for a bit.” 

Bart grumbled. He didn’t want to go back to bed. He’d been in bed basically all weekend. He was Impulse. He couldn’t be beaten by some stupid cold. “‘M fine.”

“I’ll tell the school you’ll be there soon, then.”

“Max.”

“What? You’re fine, aren’t you?” Max’s face stayed the same, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. Bart huffed, pushing himself up, and only wobbling a little bit on his way to grab some of Max’s herbal tea. Max took his temperature again while the tea steeped. “That’s far better than it was, anyways. You should be alright tomorrow, I reckon.”

“I’m alright already,” Bart said, sipping the tea and letting it soothe his throat. The room wasn’t even spinning around him anymore. Ergo, he was doing fine. Perfect, even. “Besides, Preston needs me to do the science project with him.”

“I thought the science project wasn’t going to start until next week?” Max said, reaching for another mug from the cupboard. 

“Preston wants to get a head start. He texted me earlier.” Bart slurped his tea. Max tapped his head. “Carol said she’d help him too, but she’s in Mallorca all week ‘cause her brother won the trip.”

“Well, I suppose we need to get you in top shape, then. For the science project.”

“Yeah,” Bart agreed. “For the science project.”

——

Bart pulled his goggles over his eyes, letting the familiar yellow lenses colour his vision. The Impulse suit felt refreshing, after so long spent in pyjamas or oversized clothes. Max stood off to the side, not quite hovering, but not quite giving Bart free reign yet either. Which, frankly, seemed a tad dramatic. It was a flu, not the plague. He really was fine now. 

“Just a quick jog,” Max said. “Around the town, by the river, and when you come back, give me a list of at least fifteen things you noticed.”

Bart grinned widely at him, quickly dropping into a ready stance as Max counted him down. 

“Three… two… one.”

Bart was gone the millisecond the word left Max’s mouth, nothing but the memory of lightning behind him. 

#this is a bit over 2k btw #bart allen #max crandall #impulse #max mercury #impulse 1995 #my writing

[stackthedeck]

homecoming rewrite 🤭

okay so you guys remember my fic let's see how far you've come that's a more comic accurate Peter in the mcu where he's older and more experienced that's just a rewrite of civil war? Yeah I planned to do that with every mcu Spider-Man movie but that was really ambitious but I did write a whole outline for homecoming

The fic loosely followed the plot of homecoming with the vulture and all that, but Ned and MJ already know Peter's Spider-Man. Peter and MJ are on a break because Peter can't prioritize their relationship and he's biting off more than he can chew with hero work. This is why Peter wants Tony to be better and move away from the big picture and look out for the little guy. But I know Tony can't do this, but I also know Peter needs a partner. So the plan was to keep the high school part of homecoming even though the spider trio has already graduated college so I put Miles and Ganke in Peter and Ned's place and replaced Liz Allen with Tiana Toomes. Miles is a big help to Spider-Man because his Uncle Aaron is part of Toomes' gang and Miles learns all the details. Miles is kinda Peter's guy in the chair for this and they'll be an "end credits" scene where Peter teaches him some moves. (the plan was that if I did the whole MCU, Miles would get bit by a spider (made by Tony stealing some of Peter's blood) and take over as Spider-Man while Peter was snapped in infinity war). You know that scene where Peter gets trapped under the rumble at the end of homecoming? Yeah, his "get back up" moment was supposed to be the ring he was going to propose to MJ with falling out of his pocket. God, I wish I had the time and motivation to write this fic!

anyway have a snippet

“Call me if you need anything,” Happy says, “keep me updated.”

Peter laughs nervously. “I appreciate the offer, but this was a one-time thing. I’m not like…a baby Avenger or something.”

“Just a normal Avenger,” Happy says, still not unlocking the door, still crawling through traffic.

“Nope,” Peter says, “nope, absolutely not.”

“Are you su—”

“Listen, this has been great—” Peter rolls down the window, pulling himself through as Happy pointedly does not stop driving “—but I’ve really got to go.”

“I’ll text you,” Happy calls.

“Please don’t,” Peter quietly pleads mostly to himself.

Peter ducks into a nearby alley and changes into his spider suit. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and he’s off. He climbs higher and higher, getting closer to the heart of the city with each swing. The wind stings his face even through the mask, the air reeks of filth and trash, car horns blare and people shout almost just as loud. God, he’s missed this.

Peter gets back to Aunt May’s place and after climbing through the window, flops into bed. Just as he’s pulling the mask off, the bedroom door flies open.

MJ stands in the doorway. Her dark curls are practically glowing in the morning light. She looks like she’s ready to kill him.

“MJ,” Peter sighs with a smile, “light of my life—”

“Cut that shit out, Parker.” Her arms are folded over her chest and her combat boots are still on.

“You can still be the light of my life when we’re on a break,” Peter says.

MJ steps inside the room, closing the door behind her. She uncrosses her arms, revealing she’s got a Daily Bugle brand Spider-Man shirt on. A shirt whose sales Peter doesn’t see a penny of—neither as Spider-Man or the photographer that made him famous. Peter loathes that shirt and MJ only wears it when she’s pissed at him.

“Damn it,” Peter sighs, falling back onto the bed, “before you yell at me, can you crack my back? I can feel my spine digging into my lung.”

“What did you do?” MJ says, glaring at him. Well, Peter assumes she is, he’s got his face buried in his pillow. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t slept in at least 48 hours.

“Got my ass kicked by Captain America,” Peter grumbles.

“I repeat,” MJ says, at least sounding somewhat concerned this time, “what did you do?”

“Got kidnapped by Tony Stark,” Peter sighs.

“Two days Peter,” MJ says. She’s pacing around the room now. Oh shit, she must have been planning this speech. “We agreed to take a break and then you disappeared for two days. I called you to get you to pick up your stuff, but you didn’t answer. Peter, you’re an asshole but you’re not a dick, you wouldn’t ghost me. So I went to your aunt who said you were at Ned’s and Ned said you were with me. But you weren’t with me. Do you know how many times I called you?”

Peter rolls over to dig his phone out of his bag. He turns it off airplane mode and it immediately starts vibrating. “57 times,” Peter says.

“Where were you that you couldn’t answer one of those 57 calls?” MJ asks.

“Germany.”

MJ stops pacing.

“Germany?”

“I don’t have an international phone plan,” Peter says.

“Germany?” MJ repeats.

“I told you—” Peter shrugs “—I got kidnapped by Tony Stark.”

“And got your ass kicked by Captain America.”

“And got my ass kicked by Captain America,” Peter agrees, “which really hurt by the way so can you—?”

“You couldn’t have said something before you left?” MJ asks, pacing again. He probably should have, but there was a lot going on. And it was only two days. The last time Spider-Man disappeared it was only for three days and Peter was fine. Well, he wasn’t fine, he got kidnapped by Kingpin. But the time before that he was gone for a week and that was because he was being hunted for sport and the time before that it was an existential crisis and the time before that—

Yeah, two days is a concerning amount of time. He should have texted.

#ask game #asks

[hournites]

The Doctor’s Orders

Hournite fic 

~.~

“I don’t need you to-” 

“Shh!” Beth does not hesitate to boss Rick around if she has to, sitting him down hard on the Whitmore-Dugan couch. He tries to protest, but she shushes him again, her finger right over his lips. Rick goes crosseyed staring at the digit. “I said shut up, Rick!” 

“Damn,” Cindy mutters under her breath, quietly impressed. “I didn’t think Lil Chapel could do that.” 

Yolanda glances at Cindy, hovering by the door with a fresh glass of lemonade, her wavy hair still loose, hanging down her back from their training session out in the woods. She, for one, is not surprised. She has seen Beth calm Rick down from the beginning on the very first day they fought at the Pit Stop over what to do to avenge Court. 

The girls watch as Beth hauls over the first aid kit from Pat, rummaging through to unravel the pristine white bandage as well as grab wipes to disinfect Rick’s gash. Climbing onto the couch, she keeps one hand pressed firmly against his shirt, the other in the kit, keeping him still as though if she lets go of him he’ll run away.

“It doesn’t even hurt,” he complains. Rick hates being taken care of even when he needs it and Yolanda suspects after letting him go with that broken rib last Summer Beth has finally snapped.

“Don’t you want to at least stop dripping blood on your shirt?” Beth gently tilts his head back against the cushion. “Or, the carpet that doesn’t belong to you?” 

Rick glares at her but it loses its heat when she raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Fine,” he sighs. 

“Thank you.” 

Knowing they were being stared at, Beth says, “If you want to watch a medical drama so badly, I think a new Chicago Med comes on at 8.” 

Yolanda nearly chokes on her straw. Cindy gawks at her too, momentarily stunned. She recovers quickly though, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a muttered, “whatever,” strutting down the hall to bother Courtney’s mom for that lemonade. 

Instead of following Cindy, she raises her chin up. “It’s just kind of fascinating, that’s all.” 

“What is?” Rick’s eyes are closed as Beth finishes up, careful with the medical tape to keep the bandage fitting properly through his sifted hair. 

“Watching you fold like that.” 

Rick’s face turns bright red and he struggles to move again. 

“Yolanda!” Beth groans. “Why would you say that before I’m done?” She turns to Rick and grips him by the shoulders. “Repeat after me:‘Getting medical attention isn’t embarrassing.’”

“Beth, c’mon.” 

“Say it!” 

Rick cracks an eye open, meeting Yolanda’s amused gaze from across the room. He scowls, turning away to meet Beth’s expectant face. “I’m not saying that.” 

“I will wait here as long as it takes.” 

“Why don’t you just leave?” Mike asks genuinely, popping his head in, clearly eavesdropping from down the hall. 

“Mike!” Beth snaps. “Not helping!” 

“I think he kinda likes Beth like this,” Yolanda whispers so they wouldn’t hear. 

Mike pulls a face. “Gross.”

“I have his car keys,” Beth explains. 

The bandage is done, already turning pinkish at the site of the forehead gash. Yolanda isn’t sure how Rick puts up such a fight. 

Beth sits down next to him, grabbing his arm. “Why is it so bad that I want you safe?” 

His shoulders drop, his eyes guilty. “It’s not...It’s not bad.”

“Good,” she smiles encouragingly, stroking his arm. “I still want you to say it though.” 

Rick sighs. “Getting medical attention isn’t embarrassing.” He grimaces through the sentence, but at least it sounds like he doesn’t completely disbelieve it. 

Beth pats his knee with a grin. “Good job!” Yolanda notices Rick flushing again, but Beth doesn’t notice as she springs up and packs away the first aid kit. “Stay here. I’ll get you some lemonade and then I’ll give you back your keys.” 

Rick nods, a hilarious mix of both fond and defeated. 

Beth shares a look with Yolanda as she passes by and she ends up taking her glass for a refill too despite Yolanda not saying anything about wanting more. 

“She’s going to end you one of these days,” she teases. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yolanda laughs and leaves Rick alone to sulk. 

#stargirl #beth chapel #rick tyler #hournite #rick x beth #hn fic #fluff #tkv fic

[the-resurrection-3d]

alright @synthergy and everyone I finished your Two Minutes of Nick Hate. 

“Wheres the minecraft part?” Writing is hard okay. Don’t test me, I’ll cry on you. 

tw for implied self-harm aftermath and Nick being a fucking freak, as per usual

----

The second time Luca finds himself shivering in a towel in Nick’s kitchen, the room is empty. Nick isn’t there.

The first time had been in a fluffy red towel in the kitchen of Nick’s mother’s apartment, rather than of Nick’s mother’s summer home. Bottles and red cups and bright, shiny soda cans hadn’t been lined up on every square inch of countertop, nor was the sink full of knives and an empty pizza box. The sun had only just set, but the city is never truly dark, so it took Luca looking at his phone and seeing it was 8 pm to realize he’d need to either beg Nick to take him home or call home and beg his mother to let him stay.

Here, it’s dark enough to see the moths crawling along the windows, white wings fluttering in annoyance. Here, Nick isn’t standing in the dim blue light of his refrigerator, skin still glistening from the bath, nothing on but a thin golden chain and its dangling cross. It’s just Jason in yellow swim trunks peeling some black peppers off a slice of pizza.

“Where’s Alberto?” Luca asks. Jason is humming to himself and it takes Luca a moment to realize the red cap along his ear is gone, so Luca repeats himself a little louder.

Jason’s eyes still widen when he looks at Luca, wrapped up in a pink beach towel with his tail swishing along his ankles. Seems they both need help remembering the differences.

Luca is grateful that both times he was allowed to keep his boxers.

“He should still be with Nick,” Jason says. Luca and Alberto had been sitting in the deep end of the pool when Diego had poked Alberto’s shoulder with the pole of a net, said the movie was over and that Nick had said to come back inside.

Alberto had looked at Luca like he was almost going to ask. But he didn’t.

So Luca had stayed outside, let himself be roped into a game of poolside basketball with John and Hank and Sam, who had all filed out behind Diego with red-rimmed eyes and shirts already half peeled off.

Thus the story of how Luca learned the word “cuck.”

 Luca feels his shoulders drop. “Oh.”

A quirked brow. “You don’t wanna join?”

Luca shakes his head, carefully moving the empty candy bags and crumbled cans from the nearest chair to the table so he can sit. “I don’t do that kinda stuff.”

The first time, Luca had stood there in the doorway of Nick’s bedroom watching as Nick had straddled Alberto’s hips and rubbed knots out of Alberto’s still-scaled shoulders, whispering, Now take a deep breath…

The first time, Nick had sat down on his couch and taken a hit off his silver vape and poured himself some iced tea into a plastic yellow cup.

The first time, Luca had sat down beside him, exhausted down to his core, and they’d stared at the empty TV together.

Nick had held his vape out to Luca, but Luca had shaken his head.

“Did you notice how much longer that took?” Nick asked, less of an accusation than Luca had expected. Truthfully, Luca’s thoughts were still caught on Alberto striking the ground with that baseball bat and cursing like he could strike the earth open and fall into the nothingness underneath. Part of Luca still wondered if he’d truly gotten out all the dust that had been blown into his eyes.

“I thought the bubble bath was nice,” Luca said softly. “I’ve never had one before.”

Nick took another, longer hit, breathing out artificial cherry.

And Luca hated it, but with the kitchen light halo on his wet blonde hair and the pleasant pink flush on his cheeks and the wisps of vapor rolling off his lips, Luca remembered why he ever thought Nick was hot.

Ever thought. False past tense. Luca hates that even more.

“It’s just a part of our routine,” Nick continued, like he was explaining how to care for a special-needs pet. “Every time, when I get him home, I give him one of his Kit-Kat bars”—counting off on his fingers—"I give him a bath, I rub his back, and I fuck him. And with rare exception, he’s out like that.” Now a finger-snap. “So the only part we didn’t do today was the make-up sex, since he fell asleep right after I got that big knot out of his back.”

“I don’t know how you can do that,” Luca had said, arms braced on his knees, eyes pointed down to watch himself scratch at the little pinkened slips of flesh peeling away from the sides of his fingernail.

If he looks between his own legs, he won’t have to look at Nick’s.

“I mean, your… you have to stay hard, don’t you?” 

Nick lolled back into the couch, shrugged, and finally picked up the remote from underneath Luca’s tail, earning a shiver that rolled down into Luca’s toes. “It’s easier than you’d think,” he said.

“I just don’t get how you can see Alberto just breaking down and hurting himself like that and…”

“And how much sex have you had?”

Luca looked back at Nick from over his shoulder.

Nick knocked back a sip of his tea. “Exactly.” A moment passed as he skipped around on the TV, pulling up a horror movie right in its middle. “And when you have to deal with him yourself, if you don't wear him out like that again, he's gonna be all over you.” 

“You think so?”

Nick nodded. “I know so, because he’s gonna want to know that you’re not mad at him.”

“Can’t you just say that?”

“You can say a lot of things, doesn’t mean anyone has to believe it.” But the stricken look on Luca’s face must have moved him, for Nick sighed and said, “You know he's terrified of hurting you, right? He says you always look frightened whenever he tries to make a move."

With a hand towards Luca’s shoulder that Luca instinctively shuddered away from.

"It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

"I--"

Then a little laugh. "Yeah. My bad. I know I can come on a little strongly, sometimes.”

“I’m just—I’m just not ready to be doing that kinda stuff. You know?”

Another laugh. “I don’t. That’s why we’re at an impasse. But Alberto’s a real gentleman; he’s not a horndog like me. Well, he is, but he’s a respectful horndog. Whatever it is you’re worried about, I promise you, it’s all in your head. Hey,”—and here again Nick ran his hand across Luca’s shoulder as Luca turned away, face heating. “He cares a lot about you, you just gotta let him show you.”

The hand squeezed, pulling Luca back until Nick’s voice is in his ear. “And just between you and me, I think it’s making him feel like you don’t like him as much as he likes you. You know how he gets. I know he can’t help how he grew up, but he can get so irrational about this kind of shit.”

And what could Luca say to that?

Jason takes a bite of his pizza, brows furrowing. For a moment, Luca almost thinks he’s going to ask, Are you sure you’re in the right place?

To which the answer is Of course not. But if Luca is honest with himself—a realization so sudden and cold that it rings once inside of his body and then is gone, like someone closing their hand over a bell’s hammer— he’s never been able to say Yes, either. 

#nick tag #2d nonsense #luca

[alyjojo]

Gift Ideas For Your Virgo - December 🛵 2023:

What they want: Knight of Pentacles & 8 Pentacles

What they need: 5 Swords & 8 Wands

The thought behind it: Ace of Cups & The Hanged Man

Main Energy: 6 Swords

Gift ideas for Virgo:

I laughed out loud 😂 Virgos wants are very on-brand here, all Virgo energy, but what they actually need is to go tf off on someone, and let some of their pent up anger out. They’ve taken their time trying to see a situation from every angle, probably regarding their work, and someone is either yanking their chain or wasting their time, they need an outlet…or a good scolding, to be put in their place, if they have no problem letting all of that out. You know your Virgo best, and you love them - Ace of Cups, you just want them to move past 5 Swords and towards the 6, taking all of these lessons with them to calmer waters, where they can have peace of mind. And some actual progress, which is what they deserve.

1. Anything related to their work or what they do, they put a lot of time and dedicated effort into what they love and would appreciate positive attention or appreciation regarding that, even if it’s a monogrammed pen, and refills, if they’re someone that uses pens. A nice tie, a printer/scanner or some helpful tech gadget, a new set of…scalpels, dress shirts, insulated work pants & gloves, etc. Or crafts/hobby, something they’re really into and do all of the time. Knight of Pentacles & 8 Pentacles, the level of focus and detail, time and attention, this is describing looong hours and mentally/physically taxing effort, always giving it 100%. Like a surgeon, or a clay sculptor like the picture shows = scalpels.

2. Snarky gifts about things that are slow, I’m getting they like to take their time with everything and hate being rushed. Things with sloths 🦥 on them, snarky bumper stickers like “honk and I’ll go slower”, a cubicle sign that says “slow down, we get paid by the hour”, gag gifts to make them laugh, regarding the things they complain about. Virgo tends to have a great sense of humor, even when they’re bitching about the world and its shortcomings.

3. Something new and interesting for their downtime, they’re probably open to suggestions because they’re kinda stuck in a funk day-to-day. They could be someone that repeats the same things they’ve always loved and you could suggest something newer & more current that would peak their interest. I heard Dr. Who, not exactly new, and back to the medical thing, do they like medical shows? Maybe they would. I know it’s not medical but the Dr. part triggers “medical” and that keeps showing up as a message. Everything is digital now, except maybe not them, you could help them get comfortable with more current-age technology, a grocery delivery subscription, a subscription based app like Hulu, Amazon Prime/Firestick, a phone (if they don’t have one), with every helpful app already installed, a list of their passwords handy, and lots of time…for you to teach them. I’m definitely picking up on someone’s parent for this row.

#Virgo #gift ideas #holidays #gifts #shopping #December 2023 #astrology #zodiac signs

[perlukafarinn]

idea by @ltleflrt​

Dean has been growing out his hair.

It takes Cas a little while to notice but one morning at the breakfast table, he watches Dean brush a stray lock from his forehead and realizes he's never seen him do that before.

"Uh, yeah, I guess it’s getting kinda shaggy," Dean mutters when Cas points it out. There's a strange hesitancy as he adds, "Do you mind it?"

He's shy, Cas realizes. This is Dean being sensitive about his appearance, afraid of being judged.

"It suits you," Cas answers honestly.

A faint blush rises to Dean's cheeks. "Whatever. Guess I'll keep it for now."

Cas smiles, knowing his answer pleased Dean even if he's not quite willing to admit it.

Wearing his hair a little longer does suit Dean. It makes him appear softer, yet another layer of protective armor pealed away now that he's got the safety to do so. There is also more to hold onto (or even grab) when Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair now, a fact that pleases them both greatly.

But it does make Cas wonder about his own hair. He's never had much of an opinion of his physical appearance before but he’s found that with his newfound humanity comes a certain vanity.

He examines himself in the mirror that afternoon. His hair has grown, which shouldn’t be a surprise but somehow is. It’s longer than it’s been since Cas first took on this vessel; longer, Cas realizes, than he likes it to be.

Unsure of what exactly the protocol is for getting a haircut - does he call a barber or just show up? How does he find one he knows will be suitable? - he asks Dean.

"You don't need to waste money on a haircut, we've got perfectly good scissors at home."

Cas frowns, tugging uncertainly at the hairs by the back of his neck. How is he supposed to cut his hair if he can't even see it?

"I'll do it, dumbass," Dean says in response to Cas' unasked question.

"You?"

"Yeah, me." Dean crosses his arms, defensive. "I've been cutting my own hair since I was thirteen. Hell, I used to cut Sam's too, back when he would still let me at that mop."

“I would like it if you cut my hair,” Cas says.

“Oh.” Dean clears his throat. “Well. Good, ‘cause that’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Now?”

“No time like the present.” Dean puts his hand on Cas’ shoulder, patting it. “Let’s go Rapunzel, we’re not doing this in the kitchen.”

They go to the bathroom first. There are scissors in the cabinet by the sink, which Cas had always assumed would function as a concealed weapon in case of attack. There are enough of those hidden around the house that it wouldn’t be unusual. It hadn’t occurred to him that they were for personal grooming.

Dean grabs them, as well as a comb and a towel, and instructs Cas to wash his hair and then come out to the porch.

“Less to clean up if we do this outside,” he explains. “Besides, it’s a nice day.”

Cas finds himself in agreement as he joins Dean outside a few minutes later. The sun is out and the air is warm and still, a rarity so late in the fall. Dean has stripped down to his t-shirt, the towel slung over one shoulder, and he gestures for Cas to sit down in one of the patio chairs. 

Cas obediently sits, feeling a little strange as Dean wraps the towel around his shoulders. 

“To keep the hairs from getting on your clothes,” Dean explains.

“I’m aware.”

“Just looked a little lost there.” 

Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair and Cas finds himself closing his eyes on instinct. Dean’s touch is soft but assured as he gently untangles the damp locks from the top of his hair to the back. He repeats the movement a few times, fingertips caressing Cas’ scalp lightly as he goes, 

“How short do you want it?”

“Hm?”

Cas hears Dean chuckle but he doesn’t repeat the question, simply keeps combing his fingers through Cas’ hair. His fingertips dig into Cas’ temples, kneading, loosening a tension Cas didn’t even know was there. His thumbs rub in circles behind Cas’ ears, down the sides of his neck, and Cas feels like he’s melting in his seat, like every bone in his body has been replaced by jelly.

“Man, you really like this,” Dean muses quietly. “Bet if you were a cat, you’d be purring.”

Cas doesn’t doubt he’s right. 

“Seriously though, how do you want your hair?”

How Dean expects him to speak when he’s this comfortable and relaxed, Cas has no idea. Still, he manages to mumble, “Don’t care. You decide.”

Dean’s fingers go still. “You sure?”

“I trust you.”

“...Okay.” Dean’s voice sounds oddly strangled but he starts kneading again so Cas figures he said something right. “Your funeral.”

Rather than begin cutting right away, Dean keeps massaging Cas’ scalp for what simultaneously feels like hours and mere seconds more. By the time he finally picks up the scissors, Cas has started to nod off. 

The feel of metal against his ear wakes him up. There’s a soft sound as Dean starts to cut, close enough to his earlobe that Cas would be nervous if it were anyone else.

It’s a different sensation than the massage earlier but a relaxing one as well. Dean isn’t touching him as much but his movements are efficient and confident, almost rhythmic. There’s a kind of pleasure to it, to the knowledge that Dean could hurt him now and the certainty that he won’t. 

Cas isn’t sure how long he sits there, listening to the scissors work, feeling Dean’s fingers comb and pull.

“There,” Dean finally says, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “I think that’s it?”

Cas opens his eyes. He looks up, meets Dean’s eyes as he leans over him, still running his fingers fussily through the hairs at the back of Cas’ neck.

“How does it look?” Cas asks.

Dean grins. “Looks good, babe.”

#spn fanfic #destiel #deancas #perlukafarinn writes #fluff #domestic #post canon #established relationship #hope this meets expectations 😳 #this idea just inspired me to write and that hasn't happened in way too long #i'm sure this is kinda clunky but i've spent way too long rewriting and editing #i need to just post it