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izurou · 2 years

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“babe, i swear this isn’t what it looks like.”

tetsurou raises a hand in surrender, shifting his guilt ridden gaze between you, the television illuminating the living room, and the baby girl whom he has resting on his hip.

you went out for a couple hours, a movie and a few drinks with some friends—non alcoholic for you, of course.

the thought of leaving tetsurou to watch your seven month old for the evening, all by himself, is one that would have worried you five years ago—back when responsibilities and parenthood were nothing but words. now, it’s the idea of leaving her with anyone else that bothers you.

he’s done the dinner, bath, and bed routine dozens of times before, more or less without fail. you figured tonight would be no different—feeling nothing but absolute confidence and peace of mind throughout your entire outing.

so, when you return home and see this, you can’t help but wonder what led to it.

“oh, i see,” you mumble as you step forward, easily recognizing the dull tune emanating from the tv as your daughter’s current favourite. “you haven’t kept our daughter up an hour and a half past her bedtime for a…dance party?”

you can hardly call it dancing, his hips are far too stiff for that. still, catching the tail end of his rigid movements, seeing the pure elation on your baby’s face as he bounced her to the music—have you ever had a worry in life? it doesn’t feel like it.

“of course not,” he scoffs, and a look of disgust flashes across his features—as if he’d ever do such a horrible thing. “i put her in her crib, but she wouldn’t stop fussing, figured this would tire her out faster.”

typical tetsurou—just can’t stand when one of his favourite girls is upset.

“and the tiaras? the uh, the tutus?” you wiggle your finger at them, gesturing to the silver crowns on their heads, and the purple tulle sitting atop their pajamas.

your husband’s tutu is clinging to his waist, visibly stretched and causing his black tee to bunch up—and he looks ridiculous, truly, but he also looks exactly how you’d want the father of your child to look on a saturday night.

“well, pardon us for dressing to the occasion,” he grins, smug and sweet all at once as he tilts his head towards the dancing princesses on the tv.

and you get it, you’re not one for leaving her when she cries either—but this tactic is sure to do more harm than good, having her on a schedule is what keeps you sane.

“it’s bedtime,” you order as you reach for your daughter, and she reaches for you too—all smiles and wiggly feet as her tiara and the little plushie she was holding tumble to the floor in unison.

“look at her go,” he chuckles as he bends over to retrieve her belongings, “she wants you to join us, right sweetheart?” he coos at her, and her chubby little arms start to wave up and down.

“tetsurou,” you sigh, and you can see it in his eyes that he knows he shouldn’t push any further—and maybe it’s that precious smile on his little girl’s face, or the tiny tiara cutting off the blood flow to his brain—but he pushes further.

“i know, i know,” he admits, resting his hands on your hips and tugging you a bit closer. “but she’s already up, what’s a few more minutes?”

“you’re a real pain in my ass,” you mutter, leaning into the warmth of his chest as he presses his lips to your forehead, and then your daughter’s.

“but you love me, right?” he stares down at you, with hope and love, and a little apology swirling behind his eyes.

“i do,” you say, “just not in this outfit, princess.”

and your daughter is quiet, eyes fluttering open and closed as she leans against your shoulder, fighting her sleep.

“really? the short skirt isn’t doing it for you?” he asks, holding his hands out and gesturing to himself—short skirt revealing nothing but his plaid pajama pants.

“no, you’re setting a bad example.”

he slaps a hand over his mouth, feigning a look of pure horror before laughing it off and wrapping his arms around you again, careful not to disturb the baby sleeping in your arms.

“well, true love’s kiss will turn me back to normal, won’t it?” he smiles at you, in the dull orange hues of your little living room, and you feel like you’ve never had a worry in your life, ever.

you kiss him. it’s short and sweet, but it’s warm and it feels like home—he feels like home. you flick the flimsy plastic off his head, presumably turning him back to the tetsurou you left your daughter with five hours ago.

“so, i’m the hideous green ogre?” you eye him, curious to see how he’s going to answer such a dangerous question.

“no,” he grins, “just the love of my life.”

#izurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #haikyuu x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo x you #kuroo hcs #hq x reader #hq headcanons #hq hcs

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daddy-suguru · 1 year

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toji + getting a pet together?

anonymous-asked a question!

Holding four squirming kittens to your chest, while looking Toji in the eye and rambling, “It was a trap! I picked up one and three others ran out. And based on the clouds it’s going to rain tonight and it’s cold. What am I supposed to do? Let them die like how you let me die of loneliness when you leave!” The fierce wiggly of the largest kitten causes you to set the siblings down. While they rush over to Toji’s legs.

All of them sniff at his sweatpants while he glares down at them. He sighs and crouches, grabbing a fuzzy black one by its upright string tail. And just before he lifts the kitten off the ground one of the other kittens bites his hand. Causing him to yank his hand back out of more surprise than pain.

Smiling while informing him, "That not how you hold them, good girl looking out for your brother." Scooping the fluffiest one up. She's small enough to stand up on both of your hands together

He points at the black kitten and grumbles, “Fine but if you get a hair ball in my shoes - ow! Little asshole.” The kitten had taken to sinking it’s teeth into Toji’s finger. “With how much they are biting me they work for guard cats.” Toji wiggles his finger, only making the kitten sink it’s nails in.

Crouching down and grabbing the little black fuzz ball so Toji could free his finger. While you claim in their defense, “They are trying to play with you, they like you! And I get so lonely. What if one doesn’t want to cuddle, but another one does? So if I have four of them, I will get cuddles from either you or a cat!” Toji chuckles before asking you,

“Do you live off cuddles?”

#toji fluff #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk fluff #jujustu kaisen #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro fluff #fushiguro toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader

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wonderlandleighleigh · 1 year

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Maisel/Weissman’s over engineering how to pull one of the kids loose tooth out and say Lenny or someone being the only one the kid trusts

Hello, Sunshine, January 1964

The tug on his hand gets his attention, and Lenny looks down at his step-daughter curiously.

Esther looks nervous. Her little six-year-old face troubled.

He kneels down in front of her. "What is it, Darling?"

She takes a deep breath. "Lenny, Papa and Uncle Noah and Pop are talking about tying my tooth to a doorknob and then shutting the door and I'm scared."

Lenny frets along with her. "That is cause for concern, isn't it?"

Esther nods aggressively. "And Mama is working tonight on the show, and Softa is out, and Bubbe and Zeyde aren't here."

"Okay," he sooths, rubbing her arms comfortingly, kissing her forehead. "It's all going to be alright. How's the tooth feeling?"

"It's wiggly and it hurts," she pouts softly.

"Okay," he nods. "So here's what you do. I want you to wiggle it really, really hard with your tongue a few times, and then give it a good push, and do not swallow it when it falls out, okay?"

Esther nods firmly, does as she's told, and a few moments later, she spits out the tooth (and a little blood).

"There it is!" Lenny crows, grabbing a tissue from his desk and snagging the tooth from her. "The tooth fairy's gonna see this and be very impressed."

Esther beams at him. "It doesn't hurt anymore! It just feels funny!"

"That's normal," Lenny chuckles. "Let's get you some juice, and we'll show the brain trust in the living room so they can stop plotting your tooth's demise."

Esther smiles wider and hugs him. "Thank you. I was scared of the door slamming and hurting."

He kisses the top of her head and then scoops her up. "To the kitchen!"

#fic #tmmm #au #Midge x Lenny #Esther Maisel #In honesty it's been a while since we've had reason yet to smile #so come on sunshine

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captainjunglegym · 1 month

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PISSSSSSSS TELL ME ABOUT THE PISSSS CHARLOTTE

haha i knew if i wrote the word piss you'd be coming in my box. excuse the phrase.

Yes so this is a sequel to Drinking Light Chardonnays. More purposeful piss play, including Henry riding Alex while desperate:

Henry had started to experiment a little. Holding it here and waiting to use the bathroom there. Just to see if Alex would notice. Obviously, Alex did not. Alex is the smartest person in most rooms, but not the most observant and Henry had avoided getting pants pissingly desperate like in the limo, so maybe he was being a bit too subtle. But still, he wiggled a little and touched himself and found that it was turning him on more than he’d expected. This wasn’t just for Alex anymore and he wanted to play. It was a red carpet event. Lots of free drinks and schmoozing. And Henry was dying. “You okay, baby?” Alex says as they wait for their Uber. “You seem a little…wiggly.” Henry smirks at him, but he’s sure it must look a little like a grimace. “I need to piss very badly.” You could almost see Alex’s cock perk up. “Oh. That right?” Alex pressed his large palm over where Henry’s bladder sat full and throbbing. He didn’t push, just held his hand there as if it were a warning. “You’re gonna hold it for me tonight?” “Already have.” Alex chuckled lowly, “oh baby, we haven’t even started yet.”

Summarising my fics badly

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changingplumbob · 4 months

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Villareal Household: Chapter 5, Part 4

Luna and Devin catch up after work, an infant tosses a plate, and I do my best to squeeze in some milestones before the birthday party begins. My babies Devin and Luna's infants become toddlers.

For ease of reading IF the infants are trying to say real words I'll put the English in brackets, otherwise it's babble. Luna (mummy) and Devin (mama) use some German and Italian.

Schatz (German) meaning treasure Schnucki (German) meaning sweetie but doesn't have an exact translation Bambino/s (Italian) meaning male child/children Amore (Italian) meaning love Piccolo (Italian) meaning little one Caro (Italian) meaning dear Zia/Zio (Italian) meaning aunt/uncle Tante/Onkel (German) meaning aunt/uncle Nonna/Nonno (Italian) meaning grandfather/grandmother

At home Devin and Luna spend some time working with Alfred and Rilian on their crawling and standing.

Luna: How was the film shoot

Devin: Good amore, I think it might do well, despite the plot holes

Luna: Will they franchise it

Devin: If it goes well, but most superhero films star men so we’ll have to see. How was class today?

Luna: You know how I’ve been helping them with these projects

Devin: The ones they’re getting really engrossed in? I remember

Luna: Well this morning the head of the university announced that projects should be scrapped for test preparation

Devin: Why on earth would that be a good idea

Luna: Apparently the university is underperforming

Devin: So what did you do

Luna: *laughs* He’s the boss but not the boss of me. I let the class present their projects before we did a small bit of test prep, they loved it

Devin: I know I loved my uni presentations. Did you get any test prep in

Luna: A bit. I don’t think they needed it because they all got fabulous marks on the test

Devin: Who’s hungry bambinos?

Rilian and Alfred: Me mama

Luna: Woah, they are getting better at this talking thing

Luna: For your testing pleasure tonight gentlemen, we have…

Devin: Oaty O’s! It may look like you’re holding banana chips, but that’s just acting

Rilian blows a raspberry while Alfred wobbles in his seat. Devin begins to feed Rilian, but again the cautious bambino is unsure if he likes it or not. Luna tries feeding Alfred, and, well, there are issues. As in she tries feeding him from a jar…

Alfred dislikes the food. So what does he do? Fling up his little infant arms and push the plate off the high chair… He then looks at his hands as if thinking, oh damn where did my food go. He eventually realises his snack is gone and can only sniffle in regret.

Rilian happily plays with his food while Devin and Luna look forlornly at Alfred.

Luna: I guess he really doesn’t like them

Devin: It’s okay, we give them bottles as well, he won’t go hungry

Alfred: *cries*

Devin: Alfred, caro, just wait for everyone to finish eating

Luna: And for Rilian to finish playing

While Rilian plays patty cake with his food Alfred has the audacity to look at the food on the floor and think, what’s that? Gee buddy, I wonder what it is, total mystery.

Devin: I think we’re all done, good job Rilian. Next time Alfred, try keep the plate in front of you

On the ground Alfred blows a raspberry at the food mess, he didn’t like it anyway.

Devin: Milk time then night night I think

Luna: Come here schnucki, oh you are a wiggly bambino today

Alfred: Mummy ig ig way (I wiggle away)

The twins get put to bed and Devi works on soothing them to sleep while Luna begins the next task. Two chocolate birthday cakes for the bambino’s to have tomorrow.

Luna: One cake down, one to go

Devin: I don’t know how much anyone will eat, but I suppose we need them for the age up

Luna: Have you invited everyone

Devin: My family, check. Your family, check.

Luna: Don’t forget to tell Joey about his room

Devin: Oh fudge, I had completely forgot with the awards show

Luna: And I’m thinking of inviting my brother and Miriam to stay for a bit after, maybe Hugo as well

Devin: We do have two spare beds

Luna: I can’t believe they’re aging up already

Devin: They are so small, I wish we could freeze time

Luna: We can’t though. Let’s just enjoy what we have while we have it schatz

Devin: You’re right. Kids are meant to grow up after all

The boys are changed, fed and burped. Then it’s time to try fit in some more milestones. Luna has taken the day off work to be with the family for the party so the bambinos have two parents to work with them.

Devin and Luna sit down and try their best to encourage the bambinos to crawl. It’s a rocky start, with both spending lots of time falling to their tummies. A few times they manage to push up to all fours but they have trouble holding it, let alone moving forwards.

Devin: Oh look, he’s sparkling

Luna: That’s our boy, come on Alfred

Slowly Alfred turns over, pushes himself up and holds himself there. Then he begins to put one limb in front of the other, he’s crawling!

Devin: Well done caro

Rilian: Al! Awl ear (Alfred, crawl here)

Alfred: Ye ye ri (yes yes Rilian)

The women swap twins and Devin works with Rilian on his crawling while Luna tries to get Alfred standing. Many holds later, Alfred begins to sparkle again. He crawls over to the conveniently placed chairs and carefully pulls himself up to stand.

Luna: Well done schnucki! I knew you could do it

Devin: Hey Lu, Rilian is sparkling now

Luna: Aww, just look at you two, learning so much

Sure enough, Rilian follows in his brothers footsteps, beginning to crawl around independently.

With Luna confident that Devin has everything under control, she goes to harvest the days plants.

Devin: Okay piccolo mio, let’s try holding ourself up

Rilian: Mama eye (why)

Devin: Because you’ll be toddling today, it’s good practice

Alfred: Mama ri an ri an (Rilian can, Rilian can)

Devin: Here come the sparkles!

Rilian uses his tiny arms and with great pizazz pulls himself into a standing position. Well done bambinos, just in time.

Luna heads back inside to begin a paper she needs to write for work. She needs to up her research and debate skill as well, but one step at a time. Devin carries the bambinos to the dollhouse where both Alfred and Rilian begin to investigate the strange castle. Luna didn’t have time to water the plants so Devin takes care of it while updating her social media account. Bring on the followers!

Eventually Alfred and Rilian decide to nap where they are rather than call for a lift. Devin sets out for her livestream jog. She didn’t fit in a workout yesterday, and the replies are full of sims congratulating her on her award. How does she run down the hill while replying on her phone? Magic is my guess. When she gets home, following a quick shower, it’s time for the birthday party to begin!

First up, eldest infant Alfred. Devin walks him over to his cake and with a flurry of celebration behind him he breathes in. Together he and Devin blow the candles out and he is ready to age up! He gets the top notch infant trait, which I’m delighted by since both Devin and Luna work. Blue joins green as future favourite colours.

Rilian is next. He needs some extra encouragement from his mummy as he’s nervous with the house so full of sims. Luna bounces him and once he’s cheered up takes delight in blowing out the candles. He also gets the top notch infant trait! He ages up in a red shirt so red joins yellow as a favourite colour.

Welcome to toddlerhood *rolls dice* independent Alfred and angelic Rilian!

Previous Part ... Next Part

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #the sims #Rotation8 #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #VillarealHousehold #DevinVillareal #LunaVillareal #AlfredVillareal #RilianVillareal #simblr #R0804

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garbagefarm · 3 days

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Garbage Farm #51

2024-04-25, session #51 of Garbage farm! Spanning Winter 26 of Year 4 to Spring 3 of Year 5!

cast:

me ( @mothmute )

E.B. ( @blueherin )

Kimi ( @2kimi2furious )

Highlights include, but are not limited to the following:

Year 4:

Winter 26:

We're starting late, 'cause we always start late!

Kimi has acquired additional purple shorts

E.B. dies in the mines.

I barely escape the mines with my life, putrid ghosts are the worst

E.B. dies a second time! (Harvey's nightmare came true!)

Then E.B. doesn't make it to bed and dies a third time in one day!

Winter 27:

Kimi's turn to die in the mines

E.B. meets Grandpa Jr. for the first time

I go and crack open some geodes and artifact troves

Kimi dies again!!

Grandpa Jr. visits Kimi to console her

Winter 28:

It's New Year's Eve!

Elliott gives me a bottle of wine. Not grape wine, just wine wine.

(Harvey and Alex didn't get E.B. and Kimi anything...)

Possum gives me a perch :')

trading some jade in the desert!

EB reports that the guys're all watching gridball at the saloon, and that George skipped church for this. (The seahawks are losing.)

It's keg day!!

Kimi dies, but the quest is completed!!

HAPPY GARBAGE YEAR! Kimi called it an early night, but E.B. hands me some chocolate cake to celebrate

#blessed

Year 5:

New year resolutions for the garbage crew:

I wanna befriend Leo

Kimi want more purple shorts

E.B. wants to complete all her skills

Spring 1:

Elliott's resolution is to write, write, and write!

Mr. Qi wants a prismatic grange, incredibly annoyingly.

Planting strawberries!!

(I acquire farming mastery late in the night...)

Kimi dies halfway into bed

Spring 2:

Lewis sends me 500g. Is this a bribe? Is he trying to get me to rat Kimi out?

The ducks have been released, but they're still completely useless

HORSENAPPING (nah it's fine, take care of Frucko for me)

I'm still trying to find Cave Jelly...

Spring 3:

OH RIGHT, I had wine in the casks! We're gonna make big wine bucks tonight!

Kimi gets a magical makeover!

Hitting the point of the session where I dunno what to do with my time

Kimi has to step away for IRL reasons, doesn't make it to bed

EB doesn't make it to bed for regular reasons

Wiggly money!! (best quality: his wiggles)

Spring 4?:

end of session, gotta call it early

for those who haven't been keeping track: that's 9 deaths tonight! E.B. with 4, Kimi with 5, and I miraculously managed to survive.

Kimi demands "SPLODE ME", but I don't have any bombs on hand

(by the way, Kimi's house is amazing)

TO-DO:

we need to process a ton of gold and iridium so I can finish the crystalarium shed

I wanna reorganize the storage a little bit; there's some good bones, but I think we can do better!

We've still gotta fill out those masteries!

Gotta find Cave Jelly, River Jelly, and Sea Jelly so we can smoke a fish and give it to a raccoon!

(I've still got such a long shopping list......)

Good garbage, everybody!

#stardew valley #garbage farm

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peacockeryabound · 10 months

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The Stormwatchers - Part 1

(From the story of the same name on my Archive)

Synopsis:

“Crew is crew.” A shrug. Simple as that. --- A violent storm attacks The Revenge, revealing new layers to the "Spewer" story that the men aboard want to rectify.

Pairings: Ed/Izzy, Black Pete/Lucius Spriggs, Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet, Izzy/The Crew of the Revenge

Storms at sea were as common as birds on the wind.

Every sailor worth their salt anticipated them, through the light buzz in the air and the peculiar colors of the clouds. Though never made official in the civilized sailing world, it was a rite of passage among the dreamers and wanderers to brave the most wicked of gales and still stand on one’s own feet.

For the men of The Revenge, it was simply expected that the tough bastards on Blackbeard’s payroll would be most unfazed by a little thunder; this was the rainy season, after all. No, all seem as expected…until Fang spilled the beans and Lucius lapped them all up.

"Izzy the Spewer", who shat himself in all his glory during such a night an untold age ago, was tonight's topic of interest as they sat there on the main deck, idling about and enjoying the cooler temperatures after the sweltering midday heat. They watched him, like sandpipers eyeing a little crab, smirking and checking each other’s looks of pity as the big man himself stood at one of the rails, gripping the edge tight enough to break a finger.

Fang was the only one among them that was sputtering the loudest, babbling apologies and being held back by Ivan. He had pined so badly to make amends with his superior, shame evident in how close he looked to crying and had quickly stopped looking Lucius in the eye after the third shared glance.

Perhaps Ivan was doing it out of respect for what dignity the first mate had left. Perhaps, Lucius thought, he too was enjoying the karma. He was not an easy one to read.

The scribe was biting his lip. As much as he agreed with the others that teasing Izzy was good to help him become less of a bitch, even he knew when things went a little overboard. Izzy hadn't even done anything in the last hour to earn any of what the others were quietly gossiping about. He had, by Lucius' scattered observations, kept to himself and his usual routines until Buttons had started barking a fuss over something on the horizon.

The question now was the same to them all: How could a dread pirate from the Queen Anne be so afraid of such a common part of sea life?

“Babe.” Black Pete rubbed at his back. “You’re spacing again.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Lucius mused. He wiggled closer to his lover and gave him an apologetic peck. “You thinking what I am thinking, yeah?”

“Maybe.” The man’s voice was sly, but it also held no malice. He glanced around to the others, who at this point were slowing their chatter, their faces more serious. Another rumble of thunder came down upon them; Izzy locked his legs and tightened up his shoulders.

“It is pretty sad.” Pete concluded.

“Yeah. Poor little fecker.” Wee John said from atop his rope seat.

“I can fuckin’ hear you, twats. ” Izzy hissed. The tremble in his voice was blatant.

“Hi Izzy.” Lucius waved, even though the man’s back was still turned.

"Hey, Iz." Black Pete giggled.

“Shut up-”

“Izz-eeeeee.” Frenchie also greeted him, obnoxiously, while strumming a few strings on his lute.

“Izzy-Izzy .” Lucius happily sang out, earning a high five from the bard.

"Shut it, all of you."

“Little wiggly.” The Swede politely noted his legs.

“Patas de bebé, yeah.” Jim smirked.

“You doing alright, Izzy-Iz?” Lucius called out again.

“Shut the fuck up! ”

“Whoa now, don’t spew yourself.” Black Pete snorted. He cast an affectionate side eye to his boyfriend, knowing what Lucius was intending to do and, as always, was happy to show his support.

Lucius Spriggs figured himself the spokesman among their sorry lot. He met gazes with each of his mates as he adjusted his jacket and loosened his neck kerchief.

As amused as they all were, the men of The Revenge reveled in the irony of being miscast for the name. They had their fun on the unfortunate nicknames, but fear was a very crippling thing and no person deserves to be isolated for it- not even the rude little first mate of the legendary Queen Anne .

If Blackbeard himself could turn from a bogeyman to a bouncy pomp just like Bonnet then surely, truly, there had to be layers to his spitefully angry first mate.

Even Jim was getting up to make their approach, Izzy's dagger in hand as a peace offering. They had been sharpening it during all of the banter, as they didn’t let their opinion on the man affect how they appreciated his own blade skills.

They only stopped halfway when Lucius overtook them with a halting gesture and a kindly smile.

No, he didn’t fear Pissy Izzy. Rather, he was still waiting on an actual response to the sketch request. Until then, he was content to keep his footsteps light and his cough small as he joined him at the siding, his arms crossed over the bar.

“Sorry about all the “Spewer” jokes.” He said.

“Piss off.” Izzy spat, though his tone was elevated. His gaze could not leave the horizon, eyes blown wide and desperate to catch the flashes first. His jaw shifted- possibly grinding his teeth.

Lucius smiled, finding no fear in reaching out. He did hesitate for a moment where his hand hovered over Izzy's shoulder, but he was prepared for the flinch when he gave it a soothing rub.

"Don't touch me."

"It's just a pat, love."

Another peal of lightning cracked through the air. Lucius fanned his fingers and pressed firmly into the bony dips of Izzy’s ribs, chasing where the thin body tried to wiggle off to. One would call it a tickle, but Israel Hands would never agree.

He was quick to notice Jim finally joining them, flanking Izzy’s other side. He watched them nudge elbows, just enough to distract and pass the blade.

"It's an ocean away." Jim smirked. “We got miles for now. Storm isn’t going to fuck with us.”

Lucius wondered what Izzy's expression was, to be able to get both of Jim's brows to perk up.

They too gave him a pat and laughed right in his face when he pushed back.

"I'm not a blithering toddler...get off!"

But try as he might, his little shakes were unmistakable. He had the full capability to walk away, and yet they both looked down to catch his legs trembling. Between them both, his shoulders tensed up and he stuttered through his next exhale.

Jim and Lucius made a silent and collective agreement to stay until he was ready to stab them. They scratched and rubbed patterns despite the push back, themselves mumbling the most practiced lies they could think of.

"Olu's afraid of storms too." Jim mused. "Yeah, he sometimes goes to our cabin when they come."

"He's dicking around on the chum barrel behind me." Izzy growled. He was starting to lurch a bit from the growing churn of the waves.

"Hey, I said "sometimes", hombrecito."

"Both of you, fucking fuck off."

"Easy, Iz. Keep mouthing off and you'll spill more than that." Lucius chirped.

He frequently found it cute, how much Izzy insisted he was badass when he cursed.

Lucius moved his hand to smooth down the damp curls above Izzy's neck, and took a moment to retrieve his own handkerchief to dab away the sweat.

Behind him, he heard Oluwande quietly talking.

"So, what's the real deal on this."

Ivan's voice rumbled, just high enough a whisper to still be heard over everything else.

"Hm? Ah, well…captain said that years ago, Iz's first captain used to crack him hard across the back whenever there were storms. Apparently to beat the weak out of him."

"Oh no…" the Swede quietly gasped.

"Yeah. Talking real bad lashes. Pus and tears and all-"

"Enough!" Izzy screeched. He finally struggled out from his hold, his eyes shiny and lips peeled in a snarl. "Get back to securing the fucking supplies. Or I'll cut your tongues out for sponges! "

He was as graceful as a foal on new legs, leaving his fuming departure to be nothing more than an embarrassing stumble that left everyone sitting in awkward silence.

Ivan deadpanned when he was swatted upside the head in passing. He kept his ear out, only nodding when he heard a distant door slam. Everyone else began to chuckle as they stood up.

"Real ray of sunshine in this." Frenchie was still fiddling with his strings.

Pete smirked, though his expression turned gentle when his lover approached. He nodded before the question was even asked, taking Lucius’ hand and following him downstairs.

Roach looked up from his chopping block when he heard an off-kilter shamble. He removed the blunt from his mouth to peer beyond the smoke.

"Never thought you ate," he smiled upon seeing the culprit, "First time I've seen you in here."

He buried the blade of his cleaver into the wood with one sturdy chop and wiped his hands along the belly of his apron as he stepped around. His stance shifted into a curious tilt when he was within spitting distance of the shorter man.

Izzy was clinging to a hanging net along the back wall, his shoulder blades pushed so tight together that they bulged against the leather backing of his vest. He avoided Roach's gaze.

Roach got his answer faster from another distant crack of the thunder. To bear witness to a shiver was strange, coming from an uptight little prick like Israel Hands…but it was far too pitiful in the moment to rag him about it.

"Need some tea?" He asked.

Roach hadn't realized he had his hands on his knees until Izzy peered over his shoulder and gave an offended squint. As he adjusted himself, he gave an apologetic little shrug.

"I can put ginger in it. Good for, you know." He made a wavy motion with his hand.

Izzy surprised him by silently contemplating the offer. The cautious look still persisted, even as he untangled his hands from the rigging and glowered elsewhere.

"Make it a coffee." He mumbled.

"I'm gonna suggest a tea, mate." Roach smiled. "Easier on the stomach, especially with the acids." More calming too, but he didn't voice that aloud. "Go on, find a seat."

He too had chuckled at the Spewer story when he heard it, but he was also not that big of a twit to be picking fights in a room full of sharp objects. In truth, he was more concerned about Izzy crumpling in his galley, as the little bastard looked as pale as a sheet.

That, and coffee was notorious for speeding up…other end affairs, and he really wasn't prepared to deal with that part of the story repeating itself.

He was quick to return to his station, and had fished out a bulb of ginger from his seasoning crate by the time Izzy had finally shuffled over to one of the many barrels they all used for chairs.

As was expected, Izzy still refused to meet his eye, instead slumping and rubbing at his face while anxiously bumping his heel against the bowed wood.

Yeah, coffee was not going to calm that. Roach didn't need a damn woodpecker in his space.

"Make it strong." Izzy’s voice was small, too soft for either of their likings.

Roach nodded, shaved off a small portion and began to mince it all into a gritty paste.

"Just going to warn you, this is a lot." He mused, showing the mash on his cleaver.

"Don't care."

Roach forced down his chuckle. That was pretty typical tough talk, from a man who drank his coffee like tar.

"It's going to be pretty spicy, just saying." He shook his head as he began preparations for the tea.

They were both set fairly low in the ship, but even he caught the growing sway of the items around him. The storm above was getting closer, though he wasn’t sure if the muffled sounds above their heads were of his own mates or shit falling over. He stared up at the ceiling while popping the lid to his tea tin.

Another bellow of thunder thrummed through the walls, this time heavy enough to rattle some of his bottles. A heavy wobble got him looking over his shoulder to check his smaller crates, though his eyes widened when he glanced back.

"Ah, shit…come on…" he abandoned his post to scurry back over, crouching again and trying to stare up through drawn-in legs and tightly wound arms.

"Come on, mate…" He shook one of Izzy’s knees.

He heard Izzy mumbling something.

"Come again. Can't hear you-"

"Not a word." A squeak, shaky and uncertain. He tightened in on himself, his thin body almost perfectly set inside the perimeter of the barrel.

Roach stared. He nodded, even if Izzy couldn’t see it.

"Yeah…yeah, of course."

It was a very awkward situation to be in. This same aggressive blight upon their ship was almost whimpering like a toothless pup, made worse from the natural whine to his wheezy voice. Roach himself was not the sort to comfort so easily, but he employed his best attempt at rubbing the soft leather along the tender leg.

He wasn't a superstitious man, but he understood beasts, and nothing was more uncomfortable than a twitchy one gone still.

"Easy, Iz. Easy…it's not going to come down here."

His hands, such nasty things of great butchery, cupped Izzy’s elbows with a delicateness that left them both surprised.

Izzy peeked out at him.

He swallowed.

They both watched each other as he carefully unwound the thin arms, grip just loose enough to return the man to a somewhat dignified sit.

“Why are you doing this.” The first mate huffed. He was trying to tense back every muscle he had, all the way up to his eyebrows. It was incredibly jarring to see how sad it made him look.

Izzy bit his lip when he saw Roach shrug, the man’s lips crooking at one end to form an uneven smile. At any other time, he would have felt threatened by it, finding the gesture cocky. Arrogant. He sat there, almost popping his own joints from the strain, heart rattling in his scrawny chest as Roach gave him a gaze that he was far too undeserving of.

“Crew is crew.”

A shrug. Simple as that. Roach gave the first mate his peace by turning back to resume his duties at hand.

Whether or not Izzy actually believed him was irrelevant; nobody goes hungry in his domain. If anything, Bonnet would go over the moon twice if he ever found out had his special reserve of jasmine tea was to be served for the most fussy man on The Revenge .

"So babe," Lucius mused, "Sky, or Die?"

Pete thought for a moment. He then tried to bite down his grin.

They had been walking for a few minutes now, inspecting every room they encountered, so the question instantly brightened the situation.

"Oh…well after that "daddy" thing, I wanted to say Die?" He scratched the back of his neck while squeezing his boyfriend's hand. "And yet up there was pretty cute so…yeah, no, no. Yep, definitely Sky."

They both shared a laugh and a few elbows.

It had become a game between them when they "browsed". “Sky” referred to the elation of a chance to sleep with someone while “Die” was…rather self explanatory. Lucius knew Pete had also been denying his want to shake Izzy's sheets upon first meeting him. The man was a nightmare to work with, but the silver fox look paired incredibly well with the leather getup.

"You should have seen his face when I asked about the sketch thing." Lucius purred. His next step was a light skip.

"That "bitch" was so wrong out of him." Pete mused. "I think he floundered a chance, babe."

Lucius shot him a scandalized brow wiggle.

"Oh, I'd let him call me daddy."

They both leaned into the next door frame to glance around. Why had they both assumed Izzy would even want to sit in the Ball Room?

“Do you really buy what Ivan said upstairs?” Pete asked as they continued on. “I mean, Blackbeard is pretty badass. You know, he lights his beard on fire for raids.” He stopped to stand before his partner, hands on hips.

Lucius smirked and reached out to scratch at Pete’s own stubble.

“Yeah, and he also wears tights now.” He tapped his lover on the nose. “People got layers, love.”

Pete wiggled his nose and quietly chuckled.

“I know, I know…it’s just dumb to think a man like…” he mimicked Izzy’s uptight posture, “...would be afraid of storms? Like, that’s half of pirating.”

Lucius licked his lips, brows knitted.

“I think it’s cute, really. Izzy the Spewer is now Izzy the Shaker. He’s still a Sky for me.”

He resumed the pep to his step, shooting back a playful squint while he approached the next door.

“So, I got a question for you, since you think you got a good read on Blackbeard and crew.” His hand pressed against the wood, his expression shifting back to one more thoughtful. “Was Izzy what you thought he’d be?”

Pete stopped, sputtering for a moment and squinting.

If it had been one thing everyone else would thank Izzy for, it was that his presence alone had effectively quashed the incessant tall tales that Black Pete often wove, all intricate and farcical and more outlandish than the next. First he had sailed under Blackbeard, kicking that saga off during every dinner or downtime with increasingly herculean feats of grandeur the presumed devil wrought. Then, when the others grew bored of his blustering, he next moved on to anecdotes of saving Blackbeard’s life or being lauded for plans he supposedly made, never outright stated but under the implied banner of being his first mate…then came Izzy, and the days on the Revenge became much more quiet and cynical.

Lucius knew he had killed the wind in his lover’s sails, plain as day from the gentle pout on that sweet dirty face. It was the lingering shame that brought him closer, into a hug that was kindly returned.

“I know.” He cooed into Pete’s neck. What joy the man had to call his own over the others had sank to the bottom of the sea, the day Israel Hands cut his strings.

“...I want to hear his stories.” Came the mumble against his ear, to which Lucius grinned and squeezed harder.

“I do too, love. I want to write them down.”

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #crew of the revenge #stede bonnet #blackbeard #fanfic #fanfiction #edward teach

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mythica0 · 2 years

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Tickletober day one; teasing

A/N: is this late? Yes. Am I going to be dumping all the ones that are supposed to be done at the same time? Also yes. Have fun reading! Edit; okay, I lied; not all at once, but I’m gonna try and have them all out!

Fandom; The Owl House

Lee!gus Ler! Willow

Ship; none! Purely platonic!

Summary : Gus may or may have not pranked willow with his illusions,willow gets revenge slowly

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Oh my titan! This was gonna be so awesome! The plan was set in place, all he needed to do was wait….. ok, In three twooooo…. One! Suddenly a flesh-eating fairy popped right into Willows face! “Eeek! What is that!“ She screamed. then, as suddenly as it had appeared , it was gone. “Hahaha! Gotcha Willow! You should have should your face! Hahah! “ Gus revealed himself, laughing. “Gus! That wasn’t funny! … okay, we’ll maybe a little, heheh, but you scared me! “ The other replied. “C’mon, it’s just a prank! No harm, no foul right?” “Not quite… you seem to want a good laugh, so I’m gonna help with that…” Gus closed his eyes waiting for her to strike! …….and nothing. He opened his eyes in suspicion “huh?!“ He exclaimed . “Oh don’t worry, it’ll still happen, you’ll get your comeuppance soon enough. Just . You. Wait. “

And he did. He very much waited. All day. He went on his day /almost/ normally, albeit a bit more jumpy. Throughout the day as willow gave him teasing winks and wiggly fingers he became more and more nervous, waiting for when she would finally strike .

It didn’t happen until late that evening. Everyone else had gone to bed. When willow stood up, and walked towards Gus with a mischievous smirk on her face . Once she got to him, she held his arms above his head and said, “y’know, no one’s here to save you. I told them we were having a sleepover tonight and not to disturb us. “ He gulped . She grinned. She lifted her hands a wiggled her fingers just above his belly. His veeeeeeerryyyy ticklish belly. His face broke out into a wobbly smile. “Awwwww,” she cooed, “I haven’t even touched you yet! Imagine what will happen when I really start” He blushed at this, and Willow giggled. “You’re so cute like this y’know? Like a playful young kitten!” He blushed even darker. “Okay~ I’ve had my fun, now it’s time for you to have yours~ “ and she finally dug in.

Gus burst out into laughter almost immediately, telling willow to; “StOHAHAP MhohOhoVe SoOHOHOMeWhehehehRe EhEHELSEHe” “But, Gus, I’ve just begun!” This was gonna be a looong night.

#parrotwrites #sfw tickle community #owl house tickles #toh tickle #lee!gus #ler!willow

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howdoyousleep3 · 2 years

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☾ 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚, 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ☾ (𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑤𝑜)

Rating: Mature (M) Summary: “Kitten,” Steve tries right away, going in for the metaphorical kill. “Baby, why don’t you get in the car. Lemme give you a ride home.” Tags: Developing Relationship, Light Angst, Daddy Kink, Sexual Tension, Bucky is Fed Up, Feelings, Steve is awful at being in a relationship, Making Up and Making Out, Referenced/Implied Sex Word Count: 2.8K A/N: I've been flying through books lately and read a scene in one that made me want to write something like it, but of course, these two took me in another direction. The stories I post of these two are in a wack timeline, but in my head this one comes before "when i think of paradise (i think of you and me)". Hope you enjoy. 🖤 You can find the series here and the playlist here.

“It’s only a few blocks! I’ll be okay, promise.”

Wanda won’t have it, keeping your hand in her firm grip outside the nightclub, pouting where she stands. She only pouts when she has liquor in her system, when her usually sharp words don’t have the influential effect they tend to have. The pout is your weakness too, her words and stern voice one you can wiggle around, but not this. You giggle where you stand anyway, a sway in your full-body movement as you squeeze her hand, pat her cheek.

“I’m serious! Fuck what I’m about to say or what it implies…but fucking hell, woman— look at you! Someone’s bound to shoot their shot within those few blocks, snatch you up.”

Someone’s bound to shoot their shot within those few blocks, snatch you up.”

You giggle again, your noise morphing into a scoff, and roll your eyes. You do feel nice tonight, letting loose after the week you’ve had, wearing the shortest black dress in your closet. Satin, thin straps, low back, a neckline that has your tits looking phenomenal; you don’t indulge like this often. Complete with strappy heels and your hair cascading over your shoulder, you feel on top of the world.

The three phone numbers tucked away in your small purse may have something to do with that as well.

Wanda smirks and you know it means no good. “He bought this for you, didn’t he?” she mock-whispers with a wiggly brow, other hand coming up to squeeze at your hip. “Your big, bad Daddy buy you this to make up for being such an asshole?” The mention of Steve has your stomach swooping. You immediately deflect with a flair of dramatics brought on mainly by tequila.

“He is not my Daddy, Wanda,” you whisper back at her, flashing images in your mind of tattooed fingers between your legs and a basement deep voice in your ear betraying you, reminding you of otherwise. “And if he just so happened to…to buy this dress for me in a shit form of apology then so be it. Who cares?” You sniff while shrugging your shoulders.

Wanda hums. “He’s got good taste even if he won’t commit or communicate.” You’re very inclined to agree.

“I promise to text you,” you swear once more, squeezing her hand and finally letting it drop as you start to walk away. You bring your finger over your heart and cross it, blowing her a kiss before you watch Wanda head back inside to be with the others.

With it being Friday night, with the weather warming up, the sidewalks are full of people getting their fill of the start of the weekend. It’s just before midnight and yet you aren’t fazed by stepping around groups of friends, maneuvering around others that are much more inebriated than you are. The bit of chill in the air feels like heaven on your flushed cheeks, your ears ringing from the almost unbearable noise of the few clubs you managed to get into tonight.

You’re happy though, happy and revived after being with friends and drinking, letting loose.

You ride this high for approximately two more blocks until a familiar black car, sleek as the night itself, pulls up next to you. Your steps don’t falter. You keep your chin held high, not daring to glance in the car’s direction, to acknowledge it in the slightest. You feel your temper building though, that familiar frustration of his audacity running hot on the back of your neck, fueling every step you take.

You’re followed for half a block before you finally hear a window roll down.

You’re proud of the way your heels continue to pound against the pavement even after you hear him say your name like that, but damn, would you love to drop to your knees and listen.

“Kitten,” Steve tries right away, going in for the metaphorical kill, the purr of his voice stroking its way down your spine. “Baby, why don’t you get in the car. Lemme give you a ride home.” He speaks from the backseat. You’re only two more blocks from your apartment, the amount of people on the sidewalk thinning out. Your body yearns to take a few steps left and to climb into this car and join him, but you power on. Steve Rogers deserves to wait.

“I’ll walk, thank you.”

His sigh has your frustration flaring. You should have seen it coming, alcohol getting the better of you, but when you go to cross the street the car turns and stops in front of you, cutting you off. You openly huff, move to sidestep around the car, when Steve’s door opens and then there is a broad and all-consuming male form in your way as well.

You’re eye-level with an open collar, salt and pepper chest hair, and tattoos you’re becoming incredibly familiar with spanning the column of Steve’s throat. You’re hit with a wall of comfort and warmth, Steve’s scent, that mixture of light cologne and him one that you have so desperately missed. You give it your best attempt to not obviously scent him, to deepen your inhale, but you know given the distance that he notices right away.

Your own throat bobs as you swallow.

“How’ve you been, baby?” Steve asks you, voice dropped low enough you’re surely the only one that can register it. The heat radiating from him is almost unbearable, almost a valid match for the heat building in your core for him, in response to him. The only reason you tip your chin to meet his eyes is because you’re a stubborn sonofabitch and you know he expects you to be greatly affected by his proximity. You’re much more affected by the flush of his cheeks, the sensuality that encompasses his gaze as he looks down at you.

“You would know if you would have called me,” is what you say to him, voice hard and smoky, something you’re proud of as you continue to hold his eyes with your own. The two of you are but a step away from each other, your fronts mere inches from one another, and fuck you’ve missed him. You’ve missed his attention, his touch, his time, his affection. You know you’re crumbling where you stand, but you know he deserves the absence of your attention as well.

When he sighs your name, runs the back of his artfully inked hand along the front of your throat, you’re forced to lock your knees to remain upright.

“You know it’s hard for me, this. You know I don’t do this well, don’t have a fuckin’ clue what I’m doin’ with you. Sent you presents, this,” he gestures at the dress hugging your body, a touch you know he wants to give but is too cautious to do so. “You like that, right? That means somethin’?”

You burn where you stand, breeze flipping your hair around your neck doing nothing to cool you down. There are very few things he could have said that are worse than this, a reminder that he hadn’t been listening to you in full during those hard conversations, during your last one. The way he looks down at your lips, down to the front of your dress, indicates to you that he has no idea how hurtful his words are. When he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, you yank it back from his grip right away.

You hear an exhausted and frustrated sigh come from the car before another window, the passenger one, is rolling down.

“Really, Rogers?” Bucky huffs, not even bothering to look in his direction. “You mope around for two weeks looking at your phone and bein’ pissy, gotta stop you from gettin’ into fight after fight tonight, liquor bein’ the only thing that finally makes you crack and wanna come find her…and that’s what you say to her?”

You could kiss Bucky. You should kiss him. Maybe then Steve would realize he’s got someone special slipping from his grip, that he’s one more fuck up away from disappearing and never returning. When Steve doesn’t respond right away, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you curiously, you turn to Bucky.

“Hey, Buck,” you murmur, voice sweeter for him in order to pettily dig under Steve’s skin as much as you can. He turns his head to smile at you and you can see how exhausted he looks even under his steely facade, the circles under his eyes, the strain in his voice. Hair pulled back into a bun, sharp cheeks, dark suit, tattoos scattered across his hands and neck and face— he still somehow looks incredibly breathtaking.

“Hey, doll. How you been?”

“Better,” you admit quietly. “But alright. He’s really been drinking?”

Bucky huffs again, adjusts in his seat as he runs a hand down and over his face. “Yeah, shit ton of tequila. Had to cut him off, was tired of him tryin’ to rough up strangers. Tired of a lot of his shit.”

Steve’s fists clench at his sides and you can practically hear his teeth grinding together as he listens to himself be talked about as if he weren’t there. Let him be upset. You’re surprised by this news though, that he’s been drinking and to the point where he wants to get into fights. Steve doesn’t enjoy being inebriated, doesn’t enjoy not being in total control of his mind and body at all times.

“Yeah?” you push, selfishly wanting to hear more about how miserable Steve has been without you. Bucky doesn’t hesitate.

“Yeah. He’s been a real prick since you put him in his place and—”

“Buck.”

“Shut up, punk. You act like m’lyin’ and like I ain’t the only chance you got of gettin’ her into this car with you.”

Steve bristles, tilts his head and tips it to the sky, silently begging for strength. You cross your arms over your chest and look up at him, taking a slow step towards him, as Bucky continues. If Steve won’t talk to you, you’ll gladly take listening to the second best.

“Ever since you left that night— proud of you by the way— he’s been miserable. Snaps at everybody, barely sleeps, drinks. You know he doesn’t drink. Been tryin’ to get him to call you, to go to your apartment every goddamn day. Why you sendin’ her gifts when you should just fucking talk to her? Stubborn fuck.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs on the corners of your lips. It feels wrong to smile in this moment, to hear that Steve, the man you’re so dreadfully smitten with, has been hurting since you turned your back on him in his office and didn’t look back. After you practically begged him to let you into his world, to take your budding relationship seriously enough to trust and to embrace in full.

Your smile is bittersweet. Bucky’s words take the edge off your own pain over the past few weeks. When Steve lowers his eyes back down from the sky, yours are there to meet his head-on. Damn the liquor still working its way through your system, damn the way your heart can’t seem to bear the thought of letting go of Steve in full. Damn the way he looks down at you with those eyes blue like unknown oceans depths, look alone proving to you that Bucky’s words ring true.

You press closer to him, tilting your head back further to maintain eye contact with him, hand reaching for his belt to tug on softly, playfully. Bucky continues on.

“I’m not one to pretend to understand the kinda hold you got on him, doll, and I’m sure as shit not telling you to take him back, but…I swear to Christ if I’m not in my bed with my cat and a facemask on in ten minutes, I’m gonna tell Ron here to drive our car off the Brooklyn Bridge, without hesitation.”

You know Bucky is serious, even if it’s laced in humor and exhaustion and a bit of love, he’s serious. You can see it in the way Steve’s eyes sparkle, can feel it in his hesitancy to touch you even as the skin you find yourself seeking out of his own grows hotter under your own touch. You’ve missed him, your everything aching for his touch and his care since you didn’t look back that night. No calls, no texts, no stops by the bakery, his delivered gifts accepted but with no gratitude.

It’s been more tiring on your mind, body, and soul to fight him, to ignore him, to avoid him than to accept him and his apologies.

The skin of his stomach feels like a lick of flame itself when you reach under his untucked shirt and press your hand against his flesh. His eyes look as if they’ve been licked with the same flame, flaring to life as you curl your fingers into the fuzz of Steve’s stomach. It isn’t an innocent touch, but it is one you give him for comfort, one that is selfishly more for you, the need to touch him overwhelming.

His hands slowly moving to cup your hips, his big capable hands, has your eyelids fluttering.

“I’m still mad at you,” you whisper as he dips his head and brushes his lips across your brow. His exhale is shaky and you blame such an obvious tell on the liquor he’s consumed.

“I know, kitten…I know.”

“And I have a right to be mad at you.”

It’s a reminder for both him and for yourself, his hands on your body and his breath mingling with your own weakening your walls just as you foresaw. You can’t be hurt like this again, refuse to be. You deserve to be cherished and loved and listened to, and if Steve isn’t the one to give that to you then you need to move on. You have a feeling this time around might be different for the both of you though.

He nods his head, breathing picking up, chest rising and falling as his grip on you tightens.

“You do, you do. M’a fuckin’ idiot, sugar.”

“You are, you really fucking are sometimes, Steven,” you whisper harshly, your emotions getting the better of you as he blazes a trail of hot, slow kisses down the column of your neck, your eyes filling up with bottled up tears. Your own hand goes right to his neck, fingers delving through his hair with familiarity, gripping it tightly when he makes a noise that can only be described as relief.

The hair of his beard, while soft, is going to leave your skin rubbed raw. You’re not opposed to that.

His next set of kisses are biting ones, ones along your jaw, ones accompanied by a bend at the waist, holding you where he wants you, thick arm aligning with your spine, fingers circling around your nape. No one touches you like this, commands your body so, comes even remotely close to making you feel like this.

“Fuck, I missed you. God,” Steve whispers into your cheek messily, his vocalized words echoing the ones you thought. You can smell it then, practically taste, the alcohol on his breath, an unfamiliar scent mingling with an incredibly familiar one. You purse your lips against his cheek, the corner of his mouth, hand on his waist and other hand coming around to cup the hinge of his jaw.

“Daddy missed you so much, kitten,” Steve repeats, voice dipping into dangerous territory, a rough one, one where you can feel his words grate against the front of his throat as he presses them into your skin. Fuck, you can’t hold back your tiny mewl, can’t hold back your reaction after wanting this for weeks.

“Missed you, Daddy,” you find yourself whimpering quietly into his open mouth. His hand grabbing at your ass, material of your dress sliding up with the forcefulness of his grip, has you foggily wondering if the two of you are going to make up right here right now against the side of his car. You can feel his arousal, his erection digging into your stomach, hot and heavy and—

“Alright lovebirds,” Bucky drawls without enthusiasm. “We’re all so touched and thrilled. Get in the car before I tell Ron to drive and leave your asses behind.”

#my writing #howdoyousleep #put your loving hand out #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #gender neutral reader #fanfics #mafia daddy steve #mafia daddy steve and reader #x reader #read and heed the tags #all mistakes are mine

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littlepupthoughs · 3 years

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An Aftercare One-shot. 💕

--Written so that the reader has no set gender and the Alpha is no set male character! So go ahead and input your fav--

Cw: Extra Fluffy with a side of smut. Aftercare. Creampie. Bath. A/B/O. Male!Alpha. nonspecific reader

AN: I'm writing this half asleep because I can't get the idea out of my head. I didn't bother with any editing. Just had to put this fluff out in to this world.

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You woke up with a small start, the cold tickling sensation that woke you up turned out to be cum leaking out of you and on to your thighs. You smiled sleepily and sniffed the air. It smelled like lavender and pine and orange and sandalwood...And...something else.. Your smile grew even larger as the smell of your alpha filled your nose. Exactly what you imagine heaven to smell like.

His body stepped out of the haze of steam with a smile, "did you fall asleep again y/n?"

You responded with a sheepish nod. "I've only been gone for a few minutes little one. Did I tire you out that easily?" You only blushed this time, he already knew the answer. "Mmm my poor little omega. Just one moment love, I'll be right back." He stepped out of the bedroom and in to the hallway.

When he came back he scooped you up and carried you to the bathroom as you nuzzle in to his chest. The tub was full of bubbles and purple swirling water beckoning you in. Your alpha gently lowered you in to the large tub like he had many times before. You were already playing with the bubbles when he sat in the tub behind you. They were so fun to pick up and stack on to long towers in your hand. The perfect play thing for your little spaced out omega brain.

His hands started working shampoo in to your hair massaging your scalp. You leaned your head back humming and wiggling happily.

"You have to hold still you wiggly beast or you'll end up with soap in your eyes," he chastised.

"No alpha! That stung so bad last time," you whimpered at the thought squeezing your eyes shut.

He rinced the suds out of your hair careful to avoid your face and began smoothing conditioner through it. The warm water felt so good on your sore body, the Epsom salts soothing your skin.

His hands began massaging your shoulders making you melt even further in to the bubbly water. After he felt you were sufficiently relaxed he squeezed some of his body wash on to a washcloth. You perked up at the scent and looked back at him questioning.

"If I wash you with this you'll smell even more like me," he smiled knowingly. "Of course this doesn't mean I won't be scenting you after you're all cleaned up little one."

"Of course Alpha!" You enthusiastically twist around and nuzzle in to his neck.

"Not yet my pup, we have to finish your bath first," he said laughing and patting your head. He continued to wash your body gently cleaning your thighs of tonight's sticky mess. You whined softly, washing it away always made you sad. Your inner omega disappointed even though you know it must be done to get clean.

"It's ok little one, I can stuff you full again tomorrow," he purred as he ran his fingers up your thigh and against your sensitive skin, still raw from the rough fucking earlier. He cleaned up the very last of his seed and smiled at you. "That's my good omega, sitting so still for me. All that's left is rinsing your hair one more time, then we are all done."

The bubbles were dissolving in to the water as he was finishing up getting all the conditioner out. He stood up but stopped you as you began getting up to join him.

"Hold on, you stay right there, I'll be right back with a little surprize." He wiggled his finger at you with aa grin. As you sank back in to the water you felt like you were vibrating with excitement, thinking hard about what the surprise could be. He stepped back in to the bathroom with a towel over his arm. He gestured for you to stand up then wrapped the towel around you tightly. The towel was so warm and soft that you melted in his arms, your eyes closing with a happy sigh.

"Do you like that my sweet omega? It's fresh out of the dryer just for you," he cooed, helping you step out of the tub. You nodded blissfully as he began drying you off.

The next thing you knew you were snuggled up in bed together, wrapped in the soft sheets. You were both blissfully rolling around in eachothers arms covered in eachothers scents dozing off.

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egcdeath · 3 years

Note

Steves kid losing their very first tooth

tooth fairy

summary: your daughter loses her first tooth.

word count: 890

warnings: tooth coming out, tooth fairy spoilers, blood for a sec, domestic bliss, steve being a dilf, poorly written kids

author’s note: i hope that one day i get to the point where i won’t have to disclaim that i’m bad at writing kids.

you can find more of steve as a dad here!

“Sarah, sweetie, not at the table,” Steve sighed.

“Wuh?” she responded, words dampened by the fact that her hand was deep in her mouth as she wiggled a tooth.

“You know how we don’t play with our food?” you added, attempting to assist him. Your daughter nodded slowly, hand still in her mouth. “Well, we also don’t play with our teeth at dinner time.”

“Unless you wanna get blood in your food,” James said, pushing some green beans across his plate.

“Ew!” Sarah pushed her plate away, “I’m done.”

“James, that is not table talk. Be considerate, please,” Steve gently scolded.

“One more bite, Bug,” you suggested, knowing that your daughter was almost done anyway.

Your ever obedient child took a bite of a rather large forkful, before yelping out in pain and spitting out her food.

“Daddy, she’s bleeding!” James gasped.

“My tooth!” Sarah cried out a blood curdling screech when she touched the now empty space between her front teeth.

“Steve, you’re gonna have to comfort her. I’m gonna go make something she can rinse with,” you stood up and exited the table, and Steve sat down in your seat so he could be next to his crying daughter.

“Can I look?” he asked, receiving a nod from his daughter before he gently opened her mouth to examine it.

“Oh wow,” Steve said in faux deep thought before he wiped a few tears off of Sarah’s face. “The Tooth Fairy is going to be so excited for her visit tonight.”

“Tooth Fairy?! Thee Tooth Fairy?” she gasped, too excited to notice the unpleasant sight of Steve searching her plate for the missing baby tooth.

“That’s the one,” he chuckled, finally grabbing the tooth and setting it out on a napkin. You arrived back into the room with saltwater solution and promptly escorted your daughter to the sink.

——

By bedtime, Sarah was still a bubbly ball of energy. It was a surprise that she even made it into her pajamas after she suggested several times to wear her Easter best to bed in order to impress the Tooth Fairy.

After finally getting her to calm down enough for her to lay down and get tucked in, Steve began to read her her favorite bedtime story, where she mouthed each

“Daddy, when the Tooth Fairy comes, can you read her my story? I think she’ll like it,” she said with a goofy little grin on her face.

“Of course, Bug.”

“Are you sure she’s not gonna try to steal more of my teeth?”

“Surer than sure,” Steve confirmed, giving her little forehead a kiss.

“Love you~” she said in a sing-song voice. “Night night.”

“Are you sending us away?” you asked in a light tone.

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’, “I need to see the Tooth Fairy as soon as possible so I’m going to sleep now. Love you,” she said again.

“Okay, we get it,” Steve laughed. “I love you too.”

“I love you three,” you added before giving her a forehead kiss of your own. “Sweet dreams.”

She waved you off as you both left her room, “don’t let the bed bugs bite!” she called after you.

“Do we have any glitter left?” Steve asked as you closed the door.

“There should be a little left in the office.”

“Great. I’ll be in bed in a little. A half hour at the most. Pick out a good movie for us to watch when I get back?”

“Of course,” you hummed before giving Steve a gentle peck. He had that concentrated look on his face, his brows slightly creased as if he was deep in thought. You weren’t exactly sure what he was planning, but you knew he’d be a damn good Tooth Fairy.

----

In the morning, you didn’t wake up to the sound of your alarm. No, you woke up much earlier to the squeal of your daughter as she did laps around your house, waving a pink card and a twenty dollar in her hands.

“Look! Mommy!” she pounced on top of you after bursting through your door, making you grunt aloud. “Twenty whole dollars. I’m gonna buy a car!”

You were still quite groggy from just waking up, but that didn’t seem to stop your child’s ramble.

“The Tooth Fairy said she’s gonna make a necklace of my tooth, ‘cause it’s the best she’s seen in a while. Maybe ever.”

What the fuck, Steve. A tooth necklace? Although Sarah didn’t seem too put off by it.

“I think I have a new wiggly too,” she began to demonstrate, putting her hand into her mouth to show you. “She’s gonna be so happy to have two of my perfect teeth on her necklace.”

For some reason, you didn’t see your daughter giving this up any time soon. Steve had created a monster and he didn’t even know it. In fact, he’d only woken up once Sarah leaped on top of him.

You closed your eyes to try to make the most of the hour you had left before your real alarm went off, and tuned out the recap that Sarah was giving your husband. You only had about five minutes of peace before James burst into the room with a bit of a bone to pick with everyone.

“MOM! Why does the Tooth Fairy have favorites?”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers reader insert #neptune drabbles #dad!steve rogers

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toastedkiwi · 4 years

Text

Little One

Summary: it’s Bucky’s first shift after HYDRA.

Pairing: Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Werewolf!Reader

You walked into the room as Steve has his ass up in the air as he reaches for something under the couch. He pulls out a little wolf pup by the scruff of its neck and he's very proud.

"Who's that?" You asked and you don't recognize the scent.

"It's Bucky, my best friend," Steve said holding up the wiggly pup. "It's his first shift since being with HYDRA —they didn't allow him to shift. And he's trying to tear everything apart and I don't need Tony getting pissed."

You grinned looking at the white small little pup and you headed to the kitchen. You haven't met the human of the pup at all yet. You had been on a pretty long and extensive mission so you hadn't met him yet.

"OW! YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Steve screamed dropping Bucky to the ground after getting bite by his best friend.

You shifted to your wolf and swiftly moved to the living room. You stand before Bucky and you snarled at the white pup. Bucky growled showing his white pearly tiny yet sharp teeth. It was adorable. Truly. Steve headed off to the kitchen leaving you two. Bucky wiggles his furry behind before jumping up and trying to attack you. You swat him down easily with your paw and pinned him to the ground. He whimpered and you growled at him. That made the little puppy tremble. You licked his face before you took him by the scruff of his neck.

Steve laughed watching you walk off with the disobedient pup as if you were his own mother. You ended up taking Bucky into the big training room. Clint and Natasha are sparring together on the center mat. Sam and Rhodey are working on a bit of physical therapy for Rhodey. Tony is standing by for support. You dropped Bucky down carefully on a sparring mat. The sweet little puppy looked around at his fairly new surroundings.

"Oh my god, is that little Barnes?" Clint asked.

"Aww, what a sweet little thing!" Natasha cooed.

Bucky growled and everyone laughed. You sat down watching. He tried jumping and nipping at Nat and Clint who were getting close. You snickered. Then the white pup comes after you. He starts attacking you but it's literally nothing. You slide down to lay down as Bucky keeps trying to terrorize you. He tries biting at your paws and you absolutely hate when people try touching your paws.

You are swift to pin the tiny pup to the ground and you growled angrily at him getting in his face. But Bucky didn't show fear this time, he licked you. You were so taken aback by this sign of affection that you turned into your human form wearing a black sports bra and light blue and white athletic shorts that were specially made for shifts. Natasha laughed hysterically knowing how weird you get when people show any affection towards you. Bucky shifted and he's butt ass naked but he's so much bigger than you. He's 6'3" and beefy as fuck.

"I SHIFTED!" Bucky exclaimed joyously.

"MY EYES!" Sam screamed covering his eyes.

"Oh," Bucky said and his hands immediately covered his parts.

You laughed and walked out of the room leaving Bucky to his embarrassment.

~~~

Bucky hasn't been able to sleep tonight. He keeps tossing and turning. His mind is filled with HYDRA thoughts. He's scared he may never be able to turn back into his wolf form even though it's gonna be a year or two until his wolf grows to an adult as long as he keeps shifting forms.

He threw off his covers. He's wearing black boxer briefs that are meant to be shifted in. They were especially designed by Tony for that purpose like all Avengers suits and mostly wears underwear that can be shifted in underneath regular clothes. Bucky got out of the bed and got out of his room. He smelled your scent and he followed it. He got to your door and finally he knows your name cause your door has a name plate on it. He's hesitant on knocking but he just decides to go in.

You had fallen asleep in your wolf form on your bed. It's the easiest form to sleep in and you sleep like a rock. It's amazing for you. Bucky smiled and softly closed the door. He made his way over. He climbed onto the bench at the foot of the bed and he shifted. His little puppy legs carried himself to you. He wiggles his way in between your front paws. He lies down and nuzzles you and snuggles into your warmth. He feels very protected with you and damn he's never felt like that.

The next morning, you both have shifted (which can happen during sleep) and you both wake up to Bucky being the little spoon.

"Little One, why are you in my bed?" You asked in his ear whilst still holding the large man in your arms.

"I'm much bigger than you," Bucky grumbled at the sound of the nickname.

"Cause you're in your human form, little one," You sassed. "So stupid. Honestly."

He spun around and he growls. The two of you start wrestling with each other ruffling up the bedding.

"Looks like your dumbass finally got the right fucking clothes," you said having a feeling that your comment will rile him up and he's pinning you down.

He growls showing his teeth. Soon enough, the white little pup is on you trying to be aggressive. You laughed hysterically. He's about to bite your face but you're quick to pin him down with you above the pup.

"Shhhhh, Little One," you said as he struggles underneath you. "You gotta control your anger. You can't go trying to bite me like a wild animal with rabies. It's not a good look."

You changed into your wolf form and Bucky growls at you. You're quick to pick him up by the scruff of his neck. You leaped off the bed and Friday opened the door. You ran down the hallway with the growling pup. Steve is in his favorite chair reading the newspaper and sipping on his coffee as if he needs it when you come into the room. You slide to stop and Sam just smirks. You tossed Bucky into the giant bean bag chair and you shifted back into your human form wearing the same black clothing. You cooed at Bucky and he tries nipping at your finger.

"Bad, Little One," you teased.

He snarls but he can't even get out of the bean bag chair since he's so small. He's also having a hard time shifting back which can happen.

“Look at him,” Sam cooed.

Bucky yips at him. Laughter fills the room. You end up plopping down on the bean bag chair to which Bucky lets out a squeak.

“You’re just fine, Little One,” you said pulling the white pup into your lap and scratching him behind his ears.

His head rests against your chest and he sticks his snout up. He licks underneath your chin making you cringe while the others laughed. You just shake your head at them while Bucky growls at them.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #werewolf!bucky #werewolf!bucky x werewolf!reader #werewolf au #abo #a/b/o universe #avengers a/b/o #a/b/o #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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party-gilmore · 3 years

Text

Ideal The Hurricane Job end scene:

Standing around while Parker double secures the dirty cops' restraints in the corner (not that the three of them don't trust Eliot and Shipp's handiwork, but better safe than sorry and why not have the world's greatest thief undercover FBI extraction specialist*, notorious for breaking OUT of restraints, go behind and check their work?), the flirtatious tension that's been simmering between Maria and Eliot over the course of this job shifts its tone as Maria brings her hands up to 'straighten' his jacket collar.

"Hey, seriously though, Cowboy," she croons, stepping in close. Eliot's hands instinctually come up to brush her shoulders. "With Brady and his squad handled, I'm officially off the clock until my team can get here tomorrow to pick up the pieces. What say you and me..." Maria tilts her head toward hall with a wry grin.

Eliot answers her smile with gentle but faltering one of his one, broad hands wrapping around her shoulder - only to hold her firmly in place as he steps back a bit.

"I... this has been... you're an incredible woman, Maria, really. But I'm-" he still fumbles the words on the tip of his tongue, the near decade he's had to get used to this doing nothing to make it easier to say. Not out of fear, but out of still finding it hard to believe that he gets to say it. That it's really his.

He trails off as Parker cackles a short, abrupt burst of laughter from across the room. One of the cops had tried to wiggle out of her ropes, which meant she gotten to tase him. Eliot looks over at her with a fond (if a bit exasperated) softness written all over his face, and the marshall follows his gaze. Parker straightens up and bounces on her heels, greeting Eliot's attention with a light and airy half-smile. Casual, but intimate. The kind of smile you give someone when you they know you enough to tell it's real contentment, without having to make it stretch across your face. Very reminiscent of the one she gave him in the San Lorenzo Job when he was on the burner phone with Flores - soft and cute and ready to do a little bit of gentle crime.

"Oh, I see." Eliot thinks that if Shipp is feeling let down at all, she hides it well behind her teasing tone. She steps back from him and winks, knocking her fist against his chin a bit. "Go on then Cowboy, get your girl. It's been fun while it lasted."

Eliot chuckles as he let's his hands slide down Maria's arms, taking her hands and bringing them up for a playful, gentlemanly kiss against her knuckles.

"Well... it can still be a little fun, like tonight. Just not that fun."

She throws her head back and laughs as Parker approaches them, beaming and excited to show them the extra bit of bonus evidence she just found in the wiggly guy's jacket. They both step a respectable foot away from each other, only for their heads to come knocking back together with a dull thud and muffled swearing as Parker throws an arm around both their shoulders and tugs them close - dragging them along with her down the hall towards her much anticipated continental breakfast.

Familial banter about the amount of cereal available and whether or not that constitutes an actual breakfast can be heard as they fade around a corner, Marshall Shipp skillfully manoeuvering into a sudden but inevitable betrayal as she gang ups against Eliot with Parker.

#the hurricane job #leverage ot3 #(shipp doesnt have reason to know about hardison so thats the only reason he's not brought up)#eliot Spencer #eliot spencer x parker #parker #maria shipp

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handy-dandy-monster-candy · 3 years

Text

Jayson, part Two

Rating: NSFW Length: 2381 Pairing: Male Crocodilian Lizardfolk x Male Reader (both cis)

xxx

If you thought Jayson was attractive in athleisure wear, he’s even more of a heart-throb in his usual streetwear, sporting a well-maintained leather jacket over a tank top and steel-toed boots. He greets you with a tiny bouquet that he fashions into a corsage for you, and then he takes you to an arcade with a beat-up facade but a lively interior. He tells you that his brother used to take him here when he was little more than a hatchling, and he’s happy to support a business that’s still thriving when it still has an active gaming community and good food.

He comes prepared with rolls of quarters and a competitive spirit, and you spent hours playing air hockey and head-to-head fighting games. He can barely squeeze into the seats for the racing games but that doesn’t stop him from laughing, and you laugh right along with him for what feels like forever. He takes no prisoners shooting hoops and you think your eyes would water if you gave the same focus he does to chasing down the ghosts in Mrs. Pac-Man, but after all the tickets are traded in, you get a giant stuffed gator—“My less attractive cousin,” says Jayson—and matching mood rings to commemorate the occasion. Putting them on feels like you’re having a shotgun wedding in Vegas somewhere, surrounded by neon lights and the wiggly 90’s patterns on the carpets.

You stash the gator in his truck and he takes you out to dinner at the mall, and you have to laugh when he balances curly fries on his snout like a carb-based moustache. Jayson seems to thrive when you’re laughing—he seems to magnify your energy and enjoys building you up as a result. You have some spare time before your movie date, so you go window shopping and try on all kinds of different outfits. You’re surprised to find that Jayson looks great sporting a cowboy hat, and you laugh when he pairs it with a set of pinstripe bell-bottoms in a pretty shade of lilac.

You lose track of time and have to scurry into the movie theatre like a pair of giggly teenagers, nearly spilling your drinks on your way up to the back of the darkened room where the bigger seats are. You spend most of the film trying not to be too obnoxious to the other film-goers, but you’re too into Jayson to focus on whatever action flick you both chose at the box office, and it’s clear that Jayson feels the same. You flick popcorn into his open mouth and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, tucking you as close as he can. The armrest between you gets frustrating for him, however, and it’s not long until you find yourself sitting on one of Jayson’s huge thighs.

You don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s murder for your tailbone; his muscles are hard as steel.

You whisper to him that you may as well have become that stuffed gator, so dearly does he hold you, but he whispers, “You’re easier on the eyes,” back to you in the dark. You spend the second half of the movie cuddling against his chest and playing with his big, thick hand, toying with the webbing between his fingers until he chuckles and tells you that it tickles him. His lap becomes much less uncomfortable as time goes on, and you realise with a flutter in your chest that Jayson’s nerves had led to tense muscles, and he’s relaxing around you as time goes on.

By the time you get back to his truck, the streetlamps have been lit for hours, and you’re both reluctant to stop touching. Soft pop music floats from the speakers when the engine turns over, and Jayson reaches over to turn it down even lower just to talk with you. He starts planning your next date with all the eagerness of a child at Christmas, and you’re not even the least bit offended by his presumptuousness; this date has been the best you’ve had in a long time—possibly ever. The chemistry is there, bubbling away below the surface as you hold hands at red lights.

When you get home, he walks you to the door of your apartment and squeezes your hands before you finally part, leaving you a butterfly-addled mess as you watch him drive away. He texts you when he gets home safely and you shoot messages back and forth late into the night until you fall asleep cuddling your new stuffed toy, cell phone in hand and a smile on your face. He texts you good morning the next day and asks if he can swing by to take you out for coffee, which you happily accept.

This begins a ritual of going on little mini-dates all throughout the week, and you start hanging out at each others’ apartments after you finish up at the office or Jayson at his studio, cooking each other meals and watching more movies. One night, you both fall asleep on your couch and by the time you wake, it’s the early morning hours, so you invite Jayson into your bedroom and let him sleep with you in your bed. You learn very quickly that Jayson is a massive cuddler, which would normally bother you through overheating except for the fact that Jayson is cool to the touch and a kleptotherm in his sleep. You find him as refreshing as the cool side of the pillow most nights he spends over, and it’s cute to watch him burrow under the covers for warmth.

You end up all but moving into his apartment, mostly for his comfort. His apartment is much bigger since he’s huge, and while you’ve never minded your little cubbyhole, you certainly welcome the change just to see him walk through doors without having to duck. You’re both still as tactile as ever, but it’s never gone further than a few heated kisses and heavy petting—something you’re determined to change tonight. You spend all day swinging wildly between knowing that everything will be fine and anxiety over the possibility of making an ass of yourself, but when the time comes, you feel an odd sense of calm.

“What’s all this?” Jayson asks when he gets out of the shower, eyeing the chair you’ve placed in the living room and meandering over to sit on it without so much as waiting for your response.

“A present,” you say, shrugging out of your bathrobe and exposing your form-fitting outfit. You’d spent the whole week worrying about what to wear, but you finally found something that made you look and feel the sexiest you’ve ever felt. You put on the music you’d been practising to and approach Jayson, who’s now looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Oh, yeah?” he prompts, reaching out towards your hips. You bat his hands away with a flirty smile—denying him his touch for the first time.

“Yeah,” you reply in a sultry purr, stroking down his bare chest before you step away and begin to dance. Jayson keeps his eyes on you in a way that he’s never done before, making heat pool low in your belly as you sway your hips and maneuver around his chair. You pepper little touches on his skin here and there as you go, pulling away before he can react or reach out to you. This seems to rankle and rouse Jayson as time goes on, making him twitch and fidget in his chair until you finally settle on his lap.

You are not expecting to sit directly on the mass straining against the crotch of his jeans.

“Jayson!” you laugh, and he laughs along with you, tension releasing from his body.

“What?” he chuckles, greedily stroking cool-hot lines along your back and sides. “Can’t blame a guy for getting excited. You plan this all for me?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, suddenly feeling shy. “We’ve been taking it slow. I figured it was time we got to know each other better.”

“Mm,” Jayson hums, looking you over from head to toe. “I like the lace.”

“I thought you might,” you say around a smile, snapping at the waistband of the lace panties you’d made sure peeked up over the waistband of your bottoms. You pull off the top half of your clothes so that you and Jayson are both shirtless, biting your lip as you stroke along the smooth scales of his chest. “Well? Take me to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Jayson replies, hefting you up into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder to fireman carry you into the bedroom. There, he carefully deposits you onto the bed and strips out of his jeans, letting you get your first look at the pink, wet cock that’s slipped out of the slit in his body. It’s long and ribbed, thick at the base and tapered into a sharp point at the tip. You manage to give it a kiss before Jayson gently pushes you away, saying, “Not now, baby. I’m about to blow.”

“Already?” you blurt, surprised.

Jayson laughs. “That dance was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I wish I’d had a camera.”

You blush, huffing your amusement. “If you’d tried to record it, you’d be out on the couch by yourself right now.”

“Duly noted.” Jayson gestures toward the pillows. “Strip down and lie back. I wanna see what I’m working with.”

“Yes, sir,” you purr, playfully batting your lashes at the man before you do as he asks. You’d taken the liberty of setting out a small selection of lubricants and toys earlier while Jayson was in the shower—something he notices now.

“Gonna have to prep yourself,” he says apologetically, wiggling the clawed fingers on his hands.

You grimace, then shake your head, moving to grab one of your favourites from the nightstand. “I was planning on it.”

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” he asks, amused and impressed as he climbs up onto the bed to join you.

“Only obsessively for the past two weeks,” you casually reply, mirroring his grin before you get to work opening yourself for his viewing pleasure. Jayson watches you like a starved man watching through the window into a bakery, practically salivating at all of the treats he couldn’t get his hands on. As you work, squirming on your fingers and then toys, you notice a strange gurgling noise coming from Jayson, somewhere between a growl and a click. You stop mid-thrust when you realise what it is. “Are you purring?”

Jayson laughs, embarrassed. “Yeah,” he says, stroking along the insides of your thighs. “My kind does that when we want in.”

“That’s so fucking cute,” you reply around your delighted smile, urging Jayson down into your own brand of kisses. Lizardfolk don’t exactly have soft, pliable lips, but his long tongue delves deep into your mouth, tangling with yours and leaving you breathless.

“I think that’s enough,” Jayson whispers after another long interim wherein you stretch yourself out, helping you pull the toy you were using out and stroking your skin before he lines himself up. “Ready?”

You nod, biting your lip as you watch him push inside you until your eyes roll back and you groan from deep in your chest. “Oh, fuck,” you murmur, scrabbling blindly and finding Jayson already reaching for you, fingers sliding between yours until you hit webbing. “Sunny.”

“I’m here,” Jayson murmurs back, voice soft and strained. “Gods, you’re a vice.”

You can only make a gurgling noise of your own as he slowly and carefully works his way in, relief flooding you both when he finally bottoms out. “Is it in?” you slur, giggling drunkenly at the endorphins rushing through you.

Jayson snorts sharply, startled into a guffaw. “Fuck you.”

“Thought we were doing that already.”

“Not yet,” says Jayson, chuckling softly. “Hold onto me.”

You barely have time to do as you’re bid before he’s jackhammering into you, pounding shout after shout of ecstasy from your throat as you cling to his muscles and the bedding. Jayson is a skilled lover, changing his tempo and how hard he fucks you until you’re all but speaking in tongues, toes curling and legs clinging around his waist as he plays your body like a fiddle. He knows exactly when and where to touch you after just one round, and after what feels like hours of marathon sex, you tap yourself out on his arm.

“Mercy,” you gasp, chest heaving and dick spent and resting on your belly in a puddle of your own cum.

“Already?” Jayson laughs around his own panting, relenting and cuddling down against your chest with a satisfied purr. “You need to work on your stamina.”

“Yeah, well, you need to—“ You break off into incoherent mumbles, seeing stars. It takes you a full minute of internal negotiations to get your arms to cooperate with you, and then you wrap them around Jayson’s shoulders, toes wiggling against your boyfriend’s thick, scaly tail.

“You look wrung out,” Jayson murmurs, looking apologetic.

“Thanks, hun.”

“No,” he snorts, embarrassed now. “I mean, I was going to offer to help you shower.”

“Ooh,” you coo, sighing wistfully as you consider your jelly legs and the distance to the bathroom. “Carry me?”

“I was planning on it,” Jayson laughs, carefully pulling out and cuddling you up against his chest before he makes his way out of the bedroom.

“Oh, yeah?” you mumble, nuzzling against his collarbones and sighing again. His skin feels so good against yours. “Well, I bet you weren’t planning on me falling in love with you.”

Jayson chuckles as he steps into the bathroom, turning on the shower with one hand. “No, but I was hoping you would.”

“Really?” You’re momentarily distracted by the warmth of the shower’s spray against your back when Jayson steps in with you, and you melt like putty against his chest.

“As much as I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, making your heart dance a giddy little merengue in your chest. You smile against his skin and bury your face against his neck, chuckling as a thought strikes you.

You were going to be useless at Latin night tomorrow.

#exophilia #mlm exophilia #gay exophilia #monster romance #monster lemon #monster boyfriend #lizardfolk #lizardman #lizardfolk boyfriend #lizardman boyfriend #Jayson #My work

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