#keep the requests coming

[stedefxckingbonnet]

Moonlight Meetings | Izzy Hands x Reader

Summary: You knew Stede Bonnet from his days of being married to your dearest friend, Mary. Although Mary was your best friend, you were still there for Stede during his conflicting feelings about his marriage and wanting to sail the seas and explore the world and, well, become a pirate, and without judgment, too. You wished you had gone with him when he had left, but you stayed loyal to Mary. But upon Stede's return and him and Mary giving and getting the closure they mutually needed, as well as her assisting him in faking his death so he could truly go and live the life he's wanted to pursue without guilt, you do end up going with him this time. You actually reveal yourself to be a skilled navigator and trader, but even before this knowledge, the crew accepted you with open arms. Even a certain first mate who was weary at first (you are Stede's friend, after all) comes around, although you tried to take over his late night thinking spot as your own. You end up sharing said spot and looking forward to your encounters and conversations every night, even throughout the days.

Warnings: slight inconsistency with plot of OFMD (just the stuff with when Stede returns after leaving again, it's really not too evident or bothersome i don't think), some strong language, briefest mention of blood ever, some light angst, brief mentions of troubling past, brief explorations of anxiety, kissing

This honestly took me a few days to write, and Tumblr didn't save some of it, so that was frustrating, anyhow—I truly hope you all enjoy this! I enjoyed writing it. I have a few requests that I will be fulfilling hopefully tomorrow as well, or at least in the next couple of days especially after recent events if you know what I mean...I love you all so dearly and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've shown me so far. I've enjoyed talking with you all whether it's through the comments or my inbox or even messages :) Keep the requests coming, and have a wonderful day (or night!)

Word Count: 5461

You had never fathomed that the sun could even shine this brightly. For once in your life, its beams didn't berate you but rather seemed to engulf you in a warm embrace as a sort of sendoff on your new endeavors, encouraging you, almost—reassuring you that this was in fact the right choice.

Ever since Stede had taken off to start his new life as a pirate amongst the ocean, you couldn't help but feel envious. You would have given anything to be able to do the same, to leave everything behind and start fresh, especially upon the saltwater seas. Barbados was all you had ever known and it never truly felt like your home. But even just the thought, the daydream of sailing the seas and discovering places you never imagined existed, felt like absolute bliss and paradise. You were sad to see Stede go, too, but you knew it would be good for him. You knew he would be happier than he was living here with Mary and his children, living the life his parents designed for him. You were undeniably happy for him. But you couldn't help but also be extremely jealous, too. Though of course, you would never express these feelings harshly—you really were over the moon for Stede. You just wished for something beyond the life that was handed to you, too. You knew he understood that, too.

Whenever you and Stede would whisper about his plans in corners at all of those socialite gatherings in the rare moments when no one was watching, he would always suggest for you to go with him, but you felt like you had no choice but to stay, especially with Mary. She was your dearest friend, and you felt strongly about your loyalty towards her. You'd never admit you were also terrified of your name being slandered and that your new reputation would follow you out there forever if you had left with him, at least at that time, in those circumstances.

But, Stede returned briefly, and all had been rekindled with Mary. They sincerely wished each other well, and she even helped him pull off a grandiose stunt—faking his death, and you knew that now, he was finally able to live the life he yearned for in peace and free of guilt. He killed off the Stede Bonnet of Barbados, and truly began to grow into the person he wanted to be—Stede Bonnet of the sea, The Gentleman Pirate.

Once he pulled it off, you walked over with him to the sand to send him off once again. There was a lingering moment between the two of you, both knowing that this would not be farewell.

"I'm going to ask you again," Stede started. "Do you want to come with me? Please, come with me, it's amazing out there. And the crew, oh!—you'd just love the crew! Please?"

How could you resist this time? Even before he had formally asked again, you were already on board, ready for whatever awaited you on this journey.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first few weeks aboard The Revenge had been nothing short of wonderful. You already felt well acquainted with your crew, and there were even a particular few you felt yourself getting closer to already, and hoped you all would continue to. But there were parts of it that were terrifying, too—it would hit you in the most out of nowhere moments that you just up and left your last life. It's not like anything, let alone anyone was waiting for you back there, but nonetheless it shocked you from time to time that you had even left. You felt like an entirely new person—you knew that in your core you were still you, but your identity felt a bit lost in this new environment somewhere. You hardly mourned this, as you were excited to explore a new you, but that didn't erase the fact that it was frightening. There were nights where you found yourself confiding in Stede about this for hours, but you eventually stopped as you noticed Ed would already be in his quarters when you arrived and you wanted to give them privacy. Still, you couldn't stand to be alone in your own quarters, but you weren't sure which of your crew mates' doors you could knock on just yet. The only place left was to check out the main deck, see if there were any nooks and crannies you may have missed.

After a few minutes of searching, you found the perfect spot—you couldn't really be seen by anyone else on the deck, if anyone decided to walk onto it, but you could still stare out at the water and the moonlight. The moon's reflection rippling across the ocean was one of your favorite sights—it brought you such peace, so you were honestly glad that you strayed from being holed up in Stede's room and wound up here instead. You were about to sit when you felt someone else's presence beside you. You jumped, immediately turning around to see who it was, your hand instinctively reaching for your sword.

"It's just me," Izzy sighed. "You can put your fucking sword away. Just me.

You let out a sigh of relief upon the sight of the first mate. You knew that his presence unsettled, or really just annoyed the others, but not you. His presence made you feel safe and looked after, even if he was a bit harsh a lot of the time.

"This is my spot, you know," he sighed once again.

"Your spot?"

"It's where I come to think every single night, even when I'm not on watch," he explained to you surprisingly patiently.

"Do you want me to leave?" you pondered, almost frantically. You didn't want to feel like you had invaded yet another space. You knew you would start spiraling, start thinking that maybe there wasn't a place for you aboard The Revenge. And honestly, Izzy wanted to be alone, but the look on your face almost pierced through his heart. He didn't have the heart to tell you off.

"You don't have to," he shrugged, sitting down beside you. "It's fine."

You both stared out at the sea. You were beyond grateful to have some company, honestly—company beyond the moon itself. Not long after, a sigh escaped your own lips. Izzy tried to fight off the urge to talk to you, but he couldn't deny that he felt so drawn to you, even when you first arrived on the ship.

"Something wrong?" he finally asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He intended to keep you in his periphery.

"I guess I've just been feeling kind of like an outsider," you shrugged, continuing. "Being here is all I've ever wanted and more, but I just feel like such a burden to everyone all the time. I don't really have anyone to talk to, and even when Stede left our village, I only had one friend. Now I just feel even more alone...It's silly, I know."

"It's not," Izzy protested. "I get it. I do."

"You do?"

Izzy nodded. "You don't ever see me talking to anyone, do you?"

You paused to ponder. "Not unless they need something."

"Exactly."

"Do you ever get lonely, Izzy?"

Such an innocent inquiry was enough to almost make Izzy's heart stop. Looking at you from the corner of his eye wasn't enough anymore. He turned his head to face you, witnessing the genuine expression on your face. You truly cared, and you truly wanted to know. No one had ever looked at Izzy this way before, and he wasn't sure of how it was supposed to make him feel—frustrated? Sad? Sorry? Joyous, even? He subtly put his gloved hand upon his chest, thinking somehow it would slow his quickly-paced heartbeat. He wasn't used to this, he couldn't even believe this was happening. He even felt he was reading too much into this—but, you cared, and he knew it right away. He didn't know what to do with that. But it was a pleasant feeling, teetering on bittersweet. Upon realizing your question was still hanging in the air, he quickly spoke again, his mind not exactly in sync with his mouth.

"I suppose."

Izzy's response hung in the air just as your query had. It felt relieving to put such a thing out into the universe, but it also felt dreadful facing this reality. Was this the reason behind the occasionally random sharp pains in his chest, almost reminiscent of someone stabbing him right through his heart with a sword? These physical sensations never came without a looming feeling of gloominess, after all. He almost exhaled at the thought. He wasn't sure whether or not he was ready to explore any of this, let alone if he even wanted to do so. His gaze was still fixated on you, as if he were awaiting to hear something from you as well. For once in his life, hope could be seen in his eyes, though he didn't know it.

Finally, you spoke. "I'll be the moon."

A laugh almost boomed from Izzy's chest. "What?"

"I'll be here every night, if you'll have me. If there's ever a particularly hard day, just remember that the moon will rise at the end of the day and be there for you to lament all your sorrows to," you stood up by this point, speaking sort of dramatically, but it was apparent that you meant it sincerely. "And even during the day, did you know you can still see the moon? So, I'll be there during the day, too."

Izzy was in complete and utter disbelief in the best way possible. He was truly at a loss for words, and he swore his head was going to hurt from how much he was nodding. You smiled at this sight, and held your hand out to help Izzy up. He looked at you, confusing written all over his expression, but you kept your hand there. Finally, he allowed himself to put his hand in yours and before he knew it, he was back on his feet again, in more ways than one.

"Goodnight, Izzy."

"Right. Yes. Goodnight."

The thought of Izzy didn't leave your mind even as you retreated to your quarters, nor when you succumbed to sleep for the remainder of the night's reign. Little did you know that Izzy thought of you, too. That you weren't just going to be his moonlight, but also, his sunshine. But he didn't know that just yet.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You rose right as the sun did the next day, never having been more ready to take on a day until now. Something was even more enchanting about watching the transition of grey hues into orange into light blue, but this process in reverse would always have your heart. The rest of the crew woke up shortly after you, some still yawning, some stumbling upon the main deck from exhaustion. You couldn't help but giggle at such sights. None other than Izzy Hands followed behind them and your heart almost skipped a beat. Usually when this happened it was because you were overcome with worry, but, not this time and you knew that deep down. When you swore no one else was looking, you glanced over and sent a grin his way, to which he slightly returned—blinked, and you would have missed it. Your smile grew even larger, and you had to turn away to conceal it. Before you knew it, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to gasp.

"Someone's chipper this morning."

"Stede!" you exclaimed, laughing so hard that your stomach would probably hurt later. You swiveled around to face him. "Scared the ever living shit out of me."

"Sorry about that," Stede couldn't help but chuckle. "I just wanted to check in with you...are you feeling happy here? You settling in okay? I know it's a lot to just up and leave your life."

"Honestly, I've never been better," you admitted, your smile still existing upon you. And your smile was radiant—it had almost everyone's head turns toward you, their hearts feeling warm. Even Izzy. Especially Izzy. "I am so glad I did this. I regret not joining you sooner, but I—"

"I know," Stede jumped in to assure you, which you were endlessly grateful for. He knew of your tendency to spiral, and he wanted to cultivate a space where you didn't feel like you had to do so. "And I admire your loyalty. It's been an asset on this ship so far."

You sent a glance of gratitude his way before he walked off upon the sight of Ed emerging from his quarters, finally. You laughed as they made their ways over to one another. You were beyond happy to see your dear friend so happy, so in love. So in his element, where he truly belonged.

"Everyone, get to work!" Izzy suddenly shouted, to which the crew immediately scurried off to their designated areas. This didn't startle you, though. You made your way over to the kitchen to assist Roach in organizing the rations, accidentally brushing hands with Izzy as you did. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you, too, the smallest smile on his face. He couldn't look away, even though he wanted to just in case his face flushed or he smiled any further or, gods forbid, anyone else saw. You weren't afraid to keep smiling, and after what felt like forever of engaging in this staring match with the first mate, you finally ducked into the kitchen, so as not to keep Roach waiting. If you had, he would know something happened and he would pester you about it for the rest of your life.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Night fell sooner than you could realize it and for that, you were entirely grateful. You had been distracted the entirety of the day; the thought of whatever you and Izzy may have to share later dancing around in your mind, causing your heart to do pirouettes whenever you daydreamed about it. You almost couldn't even wait until everyone was asleep—but you knew this would run the risk of revealing your and Izzy's secret spot, and that would be less than ideal for the both of you. The last thing you wanted was to ruin a good thing that was only just beginning to blossom.

But tonight, Izzy was early. He found himself inhabited in the very same spot as the previous night, just as he had promised. Without a word, you plopped down right beside him, sending one of your signature smiles his way.

"I've never wished a day away like I had today," you laughed breathlessly.

"Nor have I. Yet, here we are." You could tell that there wasn't resentment behind Izzy's statement, but rather, a sort of joy. You discreetly moved a bit closer to him, your knees almost brushing against one another. Izzy also moved toward you at the same time, causing said collision. You were grateful for the dark concealing the rose tint creeping upon your cheeks. Izzy was grateful for the dark concealing the smile creeping upon his lips.

Izzy exhaled almost sharply, preparing to speak again, really speak. "I don't mean to scare off the crew, you know."

"I don't think you scare them one bit," you were quick to reassure him. "It's just how times were in the time where you sailed with Blackbeard, right?"

Izzy nodded almost rapidly, in utter shock that you already had such a good read on him. "Times were different, that's for sure."

"I can tell you care," you told him sincerely. "You just have a way of showing it that the crew isn't used to. I mean, they have Stede fucking Bonnet as one of their captains."

Izzy didn't hesitate to laugh at that. "Yeah. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet...but what was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"Being a part of...that world. His world."

You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully. "It was...a lot, all at once. Lots of uncomfortable clothes, powder on my face that made me look sickly but everyone would swear I was beautiful. But I never felt like a real fucking person. Ever. It was honestly exhausting."

Izzy listened intently, leaning in a bit to further demonstrate this. He nodded as you spoke, nods that spoke: I understand. That does sound like a lot. That does sound exhausting. It's amazing that you left that life behind. You're destined for so much more than what you were given. But all Izzy could manage to say, was, "No wonder you left. That sounded awful." He was mentally punching himself for not thinking of anything better to say. You deserved words in which were beautifully and artfully strung together. He knew that.

But, you laughed, knowing he empathized just by the way he looked at you. You were no stranger to these sorts of glances—sure, no one had ever looked at you that way before, but it was all you read about in your favorite romance novels, described so vividly that once you did encounter a moment like this, you would immediately recognize it, and, you did. "I'm better now. Much better. Where I need to be."

Once again, Izzy nodded. "You've been a great addition to this crew."

"Really?" you asked, almost in disbelief, but you were flattered to say the very least.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." To anyone else, this would have sounded harsh. To you, these were the most reassuring words you had ever heard. He looked over at you, insecurity rushing through his bloodstream and you could see this. Even in the light of the moon, you could see the paleness of Izzy's face.

"Thank you, Izzy." You spoke sincerely, and suddenly all pigment re-entered Izzy's once ghostly features. Such words felt so foreign and out of reach for him, until you had confidently brought them into existence. From you, this declaration wasn't a whisper—he could tell that you meant it with your entire heart. He couldn't even recall the last time someone had shown him a shred of gratitude, or if anyone ever had at all before this. Just those three words were enough to send warmth all throughout his body even as the breeze threatened to send shivers down both of your spines and force you underneath the warmth of your blankets in your respective quarters. This would be a warmth that would carry on every time he saw you from this point on—you would be the start to the fireplace in his heart, and part of him knew this was going to begin to happen from this moment forward. As long as you were going to be around, he knew he would at least never be entirely freezing again.

All Israel Hands could manage to do now was look at you. There were stars in his eyes paired tears hat threatened to cascade down his cheeks like waterfalls and he hoped so much that you weren't able to see, that the moon would spare him at least a bit. But you so badly wanted to reach out and wipe away the water from the corners of his eyes, though you wanted his complete trust even more, and that seemed like the last way to get it, at least this early on.

"My eyes just get dry," Izzy quickly defended in case you had seen anything.

You stifled a quiet laugh. "It is pretty windy out here."

"So, see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," you confirmed, not even trying to conceal the corners of your lips rising to form a smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tomorrow's would unfold every single night, not one ever missed. There were even a few nights that you happened to be in the midst of a cold but you insisted to be in your spot with Izzy, to which he would protest and you would compromise by allowing your meetings to happen in your quarters as he got Roach to make you soup, and you were better within the next few days. And even on the days where Izzy felt like absolutely screaming and cursing at the world, perhaps directing this to Blackbeard and Stede, he would still eagerly await your time together—it would be beyond enough to get him through those days.

It had now been quite some time since these meetings began. You were really beginning to solve the riddle that was Izzy Hands, and you quite liked what you were finding, and it only made you yearn to uncover even more. But, there were many nights and even days spent where you worried—worried that perhaps Izzy was ashamed of the connection that you two had formed, and that was why your encounters took place at night. Or, perhaps he was just lonely, or he had nothing better to do. You did your best to push these thoughts to the back of your mind but you usually had no luck. And, it was even harder to deny the blossoming feelings you had for the man.

Even before the first time you two had really conversed, you knew there was something about the first mate that you were drawn to, and these nights with Izzy had only confirmed that.

Little did you know that the same fears, and probably even more, existed within Izzy. Of all the people in the crew, why had you taken interest in him? He knew that even Stede Bonnet was probably of more interest, with his fancy wears and his everlasting bookshelves. Or Frenchie perhaps, with his instrument and his voice that the crew never got sick of hearing. Or Lucius with his sketches and his wit. Or hell, even Blackbeard himself, with all of the anecdotes he had up his sleeve—but why him? Why Israel Hands? This thought often plagued him to the point where his head would begin to hurt just a bit, and whenever it did (and, you knew when it did—he wasn't the best at hiding the wincing at all), he would just cake it to the changes in weather, or something that had happened that day, or even not drinking enough water. You always knew these excuses were, well, excuses, but you also knew it wasn't best to press.

Sometimes, part of Izzy wished that you would press. It was you, so he wouldn't mind as much. It wasn't likely that he would pour out his concerns, but he would appreciate yours.

As soon as you arose, you already spotted Black Pete and Lucius, who absolutely qualified for the cutest couple award, if there were such a thing—you wouldn't be surprised if Stede had established that just for them. But, your heart sank just a bit, knowing you couldn't express your growing love for Izzy like that. You weren't even sure you would know if he returned your feelings, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin such a beautiful thing between the both of you with such knowledge, especially if he truly didn't feel the same. But every morning, your heart would ache, and it became harder and harder to keep all of this love to yourself. You wanted more than anything for it to pour out of you like a fountain that never stopped flowing. You reserved such ardor for Izzy and Izzy alone. Never had you carried such affection, such fondness for another, and not only did that excite you, but it also scared the hell out of you.

The crew noticed this after the first few weeks—oh, you were far from subtle. You practically glowed whenever Izzy entered a room, even if you appeared completely composed.

Finally, Izzy rose from his quarters and your heart leapt in your chest. You couldn't hold it in anymore, and there was no way you were waiting for the moon to rise tonight. You waltzed right over to Izzy, gently pulling him aside. He didn't resist your touch at all—it felt almost familiar, and peaceful.

"Do you have a moment?" you suddenly asked.

"For you? Always. For anything else? Probably not," he chuckled.

Before you were about to speak once again, Stede had announced that the ship had docked. You sighed, slumping against the railing that you and Izzy were propped up against.

"Can it wait?" Izzy asked you sheepishly, his eyes apologizing.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, it can," you sighed.

"Not for long," Izzy assured you as he rushed off in order to ensure the ship's safe docking. It only took a few moments before he gestured for you to follow him off of the ship. You perked up at this, grabbing your satchel and running over to him.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked as you walked along the pathway of the Republic of Pirates.

"I...It's nothing. Not here, at least."

"Then where?" Izzy sent a playful smile your way.

"Could we actually head back to the ship? Just for a moment?"

Izzy pondered this—for just a moment. "I suppose no one would really notice, and if they did, they wouldn't care all that much."

This time, Izzy followed you. You were already beginning to regret this quite a bit, and beads of sweat were forming upon your temple. You wiped them away carefully, fanning yourself with your hand. You led Izzy to your shared spot, barely being able to breathe. Nor was Izzy with the way you were practically running back, and he had to do his best to keep up the pace. But the thought that something could be wrong was beginning to plague him.

"I couldn't wait until tonight," you finally admit, nervous laughter bubbling out of you.

"Most days, I can't either," Izzy sent a reassuring, but equally as nervous smile your way. "All of the time, actually."

All you could manage to do was sit there and just glow. You glowed underneath the sun's beams and the sight of it made Izzy absolutely melt, and not from the heat.

"Is everything alright? Just wanted to talk?"

Your eyes stayed fixated upon the man before you, the person whom you carried so much love for that it almost overflowed out of you. And, it was no secret that you had never felt this way about anyone before, and Stede Bonnet himself could and would be overjoyed to confirm it. You were often urged to find some sort of attachment toward a plethora of potential "worthy" suitors, but none of them ever caught your eye, nor had much to offer you despite all of their pleas. You always had this feeling deep down that none of them were truly suitable, and so you bore no hesitation saving yourself and your heart for someone that was. And Israel Hands was beyond anything you had ever dreamed of. He suited you so perfectly. He was worthy of all of the love in the world and so much more—you just hoped yours was enough for him. You hoped he would want any of it—it was his if he did.

And oh, did he want it. He yearned for you. Izzy's heart ached when the two of you were forced to retreat to your quarters after hours of conversation. He could spend forever just sitting there with you, his arm wrapped around you as you witnessed the sky's change every day, together. To him, that would be absolute paradise. Every second he spent with you, and even when you were apart, he knew in his heart that he held this special sort of feeling for you. Dare he call it love, as he didn't want his heart to shatter into a million pieces that he wouldn't be able to pick up. But, you were it for him, and he knew that deep down. He could see it in your eyes, or at least, he hoped that was what he was seeing. You did look at him with stars in your eyes, and you knew that.

"Please, don't hate me," you started, biting your lip so harshly that it almost drew blood.

"Hate you?" Izzy repeated, absolutely puzzled. "I couldn't hate you even if I tried."

You inhaled so sharply that you almost choked on air. You laughed it off, though Izzy instinctively placed his arm on the small of your back, tracing small patterns into it. With this, you collapsed into his arms and he was already set up to catch you. Sobs escaped your lips as he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to hopefully soothe you. These weren't instincts he was familiar with, yet, he felt as if he was meant to do these things. "You can tell me. Take your time, of course," he assured you as you continued to cry. After a moment, you managed to compose yourself a bit and you felt okay enough to pull away, but Izzy kept his hands on your upper arms gently, just in case. He was really starting to grow concerned, his stomach churning.

"You won't hate me?"

Izzy laughed, to which you managed the smallest of smiles. "I could never."

"I...I feel very connected to you, Izzy," you began. "And our conversations have really confirmed that for me. I don't just think about you at night before we talk—do you know that? You are the first thing that enters my mind each morning and then I can't wait to see you, really see you and talk to you and be close to you. And some days on this ship are hard, Izzy, but you make things so much easier. You take so much weight off of my shoulders."

"The thought of getting to talk to you gets me out of bed every day," Izzy admitted. "I've been doing this a long time and sometimes I don't know what it's all for anymore, why I even bother. But if I get to see your smile, it's all worth it."

You swore you were about to become a blubbering mess if you opened your mouth to speak at all. As you took a step forward towards him, your fingers intertwining as you approached. His other hand gently landed upon your waist, and your eyes met at the same second. The gap between you both was too much, too much, and neither of you could take its existence anymore—he gently reeled you in and you pressed your lips against his. He quietly gasped in surprise, though it was quickly followed by a sort of sigh of relief as he returned your kiss, returned your sentiments. You smiled against his lips and he couldn't help but do the same, there was no denying that your smile was contagious. He felt as if he were meant to do this, meant to show you such tenderness and care and love. And you would do anything in your power to show him that he was worthy of all of yours.

"I..." Izzy whispered against your lips. "I love you." The words almost got stuck in his throat—they felt unfamiliar, and unfamiliar was rarely not terrifying or dreadful. Right now, unfamiliar was exhilarating. Those three words were the truest he had ever spoken. You lit up more than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined.

"I love you, Israel." You had saved those three words for someone special, someone whom you truly adored without any question, and Izzy happened to be that someone. Anyone else would never, ever compare. He engulfed you in another embrace, your shirt becoming slightly stained by his tears. "I was meant to."

"Meant to what?"

"I was meant to love you. Made for it, probably," you laughed.

Izzy took hold of your hand once again, disentangling himself from your embrace to face you. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed it softly. "I think perhaps the moon knew to bring us together. But I loved...I loved you even before then. Or at least, I had a strong feeling I was going to. That, I'm certain about."

"Think we still have some time before everyone notices we're gone?" you asked, hope wavering in your voice.

"Oh, we've got ample long as they're at Spanish Jackie's," he couldn't help but chuckle. "We've got all the time in the world, my love."

"All of the time in the world," you repeated. "I love the sound of that."

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd season 2 #x reader #izzy hands my beloved #ofmd s2 #fanfic #ofmd izzy hands #tumblr deleted the ending the first time so please bear with me #keep the requests coming #please request #requests are open #requests open #israel hands #israel hands imagine

[maximwtf]

izzy hands x reader where the reader also served in the navy with izzy. reader has chronic pain and izzy helps them through a particularly painful flare up after overexerting their energy.

Izzy x Reader

words: 1600

google docs pages: 3

warnings: Slight s2 spoilers (I think :”D), smoking, back pain, platonic relationship, hurt/comfort

opening: Blackbeard was back as he used to be, but so was the fierce work no one truly missed. You could endure it, but at some point it became too much, causing a flare up. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! I wasn’t sure what kind of chronic pain you meant, so I went with what I was most familiar with myself. Thank you for the request, I had fun writing this! I hope you like it ^^ (Also take this as a peace offering for the angst I’m going to write next) Requests for him are still very much open!

 “Peace of mind”

Izzy had worked alongside you for as long as you could remember. You had both joined Blackbeard’s crew around the same time; and during the time there so far you had seen Izzy get the position as first mate, seen crew members die and watched Blackbeard change. Stede had come along at some point, and as much as you were used to ignoring people coming on the ship and leaving alive or dead, this one didn’t seem to budge. He stayed and even your stubborn mind could see that he had brought change along his arrival. Blackbeard wasn’t acting the same as before. Sometimes he’d dress differently, behave and talk differently and most of all, it felt like the ship had two captains from time to time which didn’t fit in the ideology of a pirate ship that you had in mind. This didn’t anger you though, not in the way that it seemed to irritate Izzy. He’d often come to you and complain for hours after he’d gotten nowhere with trying to convince Blackbeard to get rid of this man who called himself the gentleman pirate. 

Just as you had kept telling Izzy that Stede would eventually leave, he did. But what came back as Blackbeard was someone else other than the man you’d known him as before. Soon after his return Izzy had gotten his foot injured and refused to tell you what had happened, making you only assume how Edward was now acting. You tried to help him, but he’d become a little more distant as time went on. Which hurt you, but there was no time to think about that. Blackbeard was attacking so many ships and taking in so much treasure from those ships that the crew barely had time to rest. At that point it wasn’t just izzy who looked more than a little disheveled, it was the whole crew. Everyone was exhausted and at this point some even felt bad for the acts they had performed under Blackbeard's command. And you were no different from them.

No different, up until this point. Blackbeard had started to command for the crew to start throwing some of the treasure overboard, since he needed to make more space for new treasure to fit in. It had already been a strain on your back to carry the items in, but to carry them back out at a rather fast phase sounded like it wouldn’t end well for you. The back pain had started off as light, small stings of pain whenever you worked. And you’d ignored it, shrugged it off as something that would pass even if you internally knew what was coming if you kept this up. The feeling was all too familiar, and the part of you that was aware of this also knew that one day you’d wake up and the pain would be much more intense. But you pretended not to know this, because you didn’t want to imagine what would happen if you stopped working for a while and Blackbeard caught you slacking off. Izzy was also aware of your condition, most of the time a little more aware than you had ever been about it. You hadn’t even wanted to admit to yourself when Izzy had suggested that maybe the back pain was chronic, even if he’d been correct. You didn’t want to be known as that injured person in your unit. And that conversation happened long before this moment. 

Yet another night was setting in, and the sea seemed empty, thankfully. No ships meant no fighting and that gave the crew time to rest. And so most of the people took advantage of that and were sleeping wherever they could, giving you time to be alone on the main deck. Your back hurt, and moving made it so much more worse so you had given up and leaned your whole body weight on a mast pole. The heavy boxes of treasure you’d carried today and the days before were the last straw, and this was the flare up that followed. Crouching down at this point was not even an option, and so you leaned your head against the mast and took a drag from the cigarette you held between your fingers, blowing the smoke into the cool sea air. The pain was bringing your mood down, further down than it had already been buried with the work and atmospehere on the ship. 

As another shaky breath of smoke left you, the sound of someone arriving on the main deck rang in the silence of the night. The person made their way to the mast, stopping behind you. “You’re spending the time to rest well.” He said, the voice revealing who the person was. Of course Izzy had come to see where you were. “I was about to come down soon.” You took another drag from the cigarette, turning to give the rest to Izzy but the movement made you groan before Izzy’s hand made contact with yours, taking the cigarette. You didn’t want to look at him again, leaning back against the pole. That had been enough to alert him of the flare up, and you knew he wasn’t going to leave you alone after that. “You moron, I told you to fucking leave the heavy work to someone else.” He said, voice stern but you knew he was worried, which you hated. He looked half dead most of the time when he came back from a visit with Blackbeard, yet he found it in him to worry for you. Maybe that was the small part that was left of his past self, still trying desperately to care for you. “I can do things just fine.” Your jaw tightened, not out of anger for his worry but out of frustration for yourself. You felt useless, even if you had done the work this was always the result. Even the standing hurt, as simple of a task as that was. 

Izzy took one last drag from the cigarette, putting it out by pushing it against the mast, leaving a black mark on it. “Come on, I’ll cover for you as long as you need me to.” He turned around, your gaze followed him. He was expecting you to follow him, but you didn’t just yet. He was limping, worse than before. The feeling of worry over him eased out the scowl from your face, following him all the way to his quarters. He took breaks while walking, turning to check on you but not saying anything. 

You entered his quarters first, looking at the bed before drawing in a breath and sitting down with a groan. It hurt, and it felt like it wasn’t even getting better than this. No matter how much time you thought had passed, this always happened after a certain amount of work. And recently it had started to feel like the amount of work you could endure had begun to be smaller and smaller. And if now Izzy got himself in trouble for covering your work, that would be your fault too. An overwhelmed sob escaped, and soon another. You’d feel embarrassed if this was the first time you’d broken down in front of him, but it wasn’t. This was just another flare up to the collection of many that he’d been there for. “Come on now, look here.” He said, voice a little further away as he tried to grab something from under his bed. “Fuck off.” You groaned, keeping your eyes closed, but it didn’t block the tears from making their way down your cheeks. “I know ye think this is again it, but you’ve made it this far…” He said, the sentence sounding like he had drifted off while looking for the item and forgotten to say the rest. “So how about we talk?” He finished, voice a little more awkward. Had he picked that up from Stede? You grinned slightly, opening your eyes as the tears kept making their way down. “As a crew?” You joked. Talking things out as a crew had become somewhat of a joke for the two of you, after listening to Izzy rant about how much he despised the change Stede had brought. “Sure.” He shrugged, more amused by your attitude now and willing to keep it up. “Rum?” The first mate asked, turning to you with the bottle he had found. He reached out with his free hand and wiped away the tears racing down, but before he was able to pull away you took a hold of his wrist. “Please.” Came out as more of a whisper, his thumb caressed the top of your hand a couple of times. Izzy corked the bottle, handing it to you. “There you are.” The first mate said, almost silent enough for you to miss it. There weren’t many things on the ship anymore that brought you back to the surface, but Izzy had stuck around for reasons you could not name. But it made you feel better. Things could be worse, and the pain would pass. It was okay for now. 

AN// I'm sorry if there are any spelling errors, even though I did proof read this. I'm too hyped to write for this man to hold back anything I write to double check everything XD

#Izzy Hands #Izzy Hands x Reader #israel hands #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd x reader #our flag means death x reader #x reader #fanfic #izzy hands beloved #yar har I love pirates #fanfiction #end of s2 was fucked up and I'm distraught from it #keep the requests coming #I want to write more for him

[karatekels]

A request with KK3 Terry please and make it as dark/non-con as possible! But OFC always make changes if you have to cause I’d enjoy it no matter what.

I thought of Daniel who warns reader to not go see Terry again cause he actually caught on that she likes him. (I thought this happens right after the events where Miyagi fought Terry & Kreese). She’s shocked to hear about it since she did come to trust Terry and even look up to him. But she listens to her friend (at first). I thought that later she’d get into a dangerous situation at night close by the dojo where a group of men follow her and her first instinct is to go to the dojo in hope of Terry, even after Daniel’s warning. She’s obviously scared and is already imagining the worst things in her head. Thankfully Terry’s there to save her in the last moment and even offers to take care of her since she seems so shaken by it. What she didn’t expect is that it’ll get only worse with him and he expects some kind of “reward” from her for always treating her so nicely, even “going out of his way” to save her, and simply bc he’s had enough of waiting 👀 Make sure to make him cruel enough when he forces himself on her and that he even says smth like “Maybe you should’ve listened to Danny-boy.” (implying that he was there, hiding & watching when Daniel informed her about it). She gives in partway. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance anyway. Also make him throw some comments at her maybe about how pathetic she is, but that he still wants her and only her and she’ll always be his (or whatever else comes to ur mind). And that even when she enjoyed it by the end, she still feels dirty and used. Somewhat empty even and heartbroken. Your goal: Make me cry a bit for her okay

We are starting out the month living up to the title of Dark Desires October with this one! Today also marks the 1 year anniversary of this blog, so HOORAY!

This will be in two parts, and the actual non-con will happen in the next part (though there is attempted sexual assault in this chapter as well). If that’s not something you want to read, I would recommend sitting this one out!

For the rest of you degenerates who are still here… I hope you enjoy.

TW: attempted assault; assault; attempted sexual assault; attempted rape; violence; will lead to non-con in part 2

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Unjust Reward: Chapter 1

---

At 10:02 in the morning, an insistent knocking starts at your front door. You giggle quietly, calmly finishing putting your shoes on. Your neighbour and friend (it was weird, calling a 17 year-old a friend when you were in your early twenties, but it was true), Daniel LaRusso, had called late last night, leaving a message on your answering machine. He had sounded panicked, saying that he needed to talk to you as soon as possible and would be coming over in the morning. Calling and leaving your own message, you had amended that to 10AM today.

It wasn’t that you weren’t taking whatever Danny was worried about seriously, but the kid had a tendency to be overdramatic and blow things out of proportion. You weren’t sure if it was a guy thing, a kid thing, or a karate thing, but Daniel always seemed to be on edge about some situation or another.

Grabbing your bag and your sunglasses, you head for the front door, opening it suddenly and catching Daniel’s fist half-raised in the air. You see the cuts and bruising on his knuckles, and hope that they weren’t from pounding on the door. He had been training very intensely with Terry Silver, a new sensei that had come to the Valley a couple of weeks ago, so it was probably from that.

Sensei Terry Silver…

You were kind of crazy about him.

He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome; nearly six and a half feet tall and strong, with long black hair and bright blue eyes. He had a wicked smile and positively oozed charm, to the point that you were frequently tongue-tied in his presence. Terry was very hands-on with his training, based on what you’d seen when you’d come by the dojo to meet Daniel after a training session. You’d found yourself jealous of the boy on more than one occasion, watching Terry’s hands adjust his hips and help him stretch.

“Calm down, Danny! Where’s the fire?” you joke, looking at him with a smile that he doesn’t return. Instead, he grabs your wrist, urgently tugging you towards him.

“Come on, Y/N – we need to talk, it’s important!” he hisses, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Should we go inside?” you ask, holding your front door ajar, but he shakes his head.

“No, we gotta find somewhere he doesn’t know about; he’s got eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Who does?” He just shakes his head, refusing to answer you, and you’re starting to get really worried about whatever it is that’s bothering him. You close and lock the door, letting him drag you down the street by the arm. You don’t see how anywhere outside could be more private than your own home, especially seeing as he was likely drawing attention by tugging at your wrist like this, but you knew how difficult it was to talk Daniel out of something when he had set his mind to it.

After a few blocks, you head into a local park, finding an unoccupied bench in a clearing. He gestures for you to sit but doesn’t join you on the bench, instead pacing back and forth in front of you and looking around intently.

“Okay, we should be safe to talk here; we can see if anyone tries to listen in.”

“Daniel, what is going on?” you demand, mildly frustrated by all of the theatrics but mostly concerned about what the source of his panic was.

“It’s Mr. Silver.”

“Is something wrong with Terry? Is he hurt?” you ask, your heart racing at the thought. Terry was big, and strong, and a professional martial artist; if something had hurt him, then it was definitely something to be feared. But Daniel shakes his head.

“No, he’s not hurt; he’s the problem. He’s dangerous!”

“Danny, he’s helping you train for the tournament. Was he just being hard on you?” you ask soothingly, feeling relieved. This was closer to what you had anticipated: Daniel blowing something out of proportion.

“No, listen!” he cries, though he’s trying to keep his voice down. He sounds like that dangerous mix of angry and scared that caused men to be unpredictable, and it has you nervous. “Y/N, I… I can tell that you like Mr. Silver a lot,” he says knowingly, and you blush, feeling like you were being told about ‘the birds and the bees’ by a kid. Had you been that obvious about your feelings for Terry?

“Please don’t go see him again. He’s not good for you; he’s not good for anyone. Listen…”

Daniel’s eyes are wide and scared, and you feel yourself shiver as he describes what had happened at the Cobra Kai dojo last night. Terry had made up everything; Kreese dying, being a down-on-his-luck sensei, wanting to train Danny so he could protect himself… The whole thing had been a nest of lies, part of a plan to get revenge on a teenager for winning a karate tournament.

It was ridiculous; it was insane. It was unbelievable… wasn’t it?

You think back to your own experiences with Terry. You’d been completely speechless the first time he’d come over and spoken to you while Daniel had been changing into his regular clothes. He had looked at you with such intensity, even if he had given you a charming smile the whole time. You’d tried to make small talk with him, and despite how awkward you felt around him, something about him kept drawing you in day after day. It was like you were addicted to the discomfort, the nervousness that you felt around him. He was like one of those Venus flytraps; he looked dangerous, but was still so alluring that prey found itself coming closer anyway, until the trap snapped shut.

As much as you didn’t want to believe it, you could see Terry as someone dangerous, hiding beneath a façade. And, if Mr. Miyagi had fought him, then this wasn’t just Daniel being overdramatic. This was serious.

Your heart clenches once, painfully; you didn’t really know Terry that well, sure. But you had really wanted to. It was like saying goodbye to a relationship that had never really begun, and as this had been the first time you had really felt strongly for someone as an adult, it hurt all the more.

But you had no reason to not believe Daniel’s words, and you would not be a fly caught in a trap.

“Danny, I… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry he hurt you, and I’m sorry I didn’t see him for what he was. I’m so glad that you’re alright,” you say, letting out a sigh of relief. Daniel was such a small kid, and Terry was a big guy – if he had wanted to, he could’ve really hurt the boy, or worse.

“Please tell me you won’t go see him again,” he begs, and you can hear the fear in his voice. Poor kid; this had really done a number on him.

“I won’t, Danny. I promise. But there’s still something I don’t understand: why couldn’t you have told me this in my apartment?”

“Oh. That.” Daniel says morosely, pulling out a few pages of a magazine out of his jeans pocket and handing them to you.

Smoothing them out, you see that the man being written about in the article is… Terry. But, instead of the humble, down-to-earth man you’d come to (sort-of) know, he was photographed in expensive-looking suits and (in your opinion) gaudy jewelry.

“He’s not some broke guy; he’s a billionaire. And Mike Barnes? Snake, and Dennis? He’s working with them; actually, they’re working for him.”

“He hired a bunch of teenaged goons to attack you?! You and Jessica?!” you shriek, glad that the girl had gone home to Ohio. What kind of monster paid people to harass children?!

“He’s got people everywhere, and he’s a good liar, and he’s a war vet, like Kreese was… is.” Clearly, that man’s death being a hoax was taking some time for the boy to adjust to in his head. “My uncle told me that guys that fought in Vietnam, a lot of them are… messed up.”

You nod sharply, pressing your mouth into a thin line. Terry was dangerous in many ways: a martial artist, a large man, a billionaire with infinite resources… mix in PTSD from the War and he had the potential to be a real monster. You shudder again.

“You’re right, Daniel. We should both stay away from him.”

Daniel’s head snaps up as the sound of a branch snapping comes from the treeline. Before you can reach out to stop him, he sprints towards the source of the noise with a yell, tearing through trees as if he expects Terry or one of his goons to be hiding among the leaves.

“Daniel, stop!” you cry out, quickly moving over to him and dragging him away from the trees. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you lock eyes with him. “There’s no one there, okay? And this is a park, in the middle of the day; no one is going to hurt us here.”

His chest is heaving as he tries to take deep, calming breaths, but he’s still very much on edge. Eventually, his shoulders slump, and you feel like you can let him go without him charging off to fight something.

“Listen to me, Daniel. Terry is probably very dangerous; you’re right about that. He isn’t someone that you can fight against and win. And I’m not saying that because you’re not a great fighter,” you say when he opens his mouth to protest, “I’m saying it because he isn’t going to play by the rules. You could get hurt, or worse. You have to promise me you’ll stay away from him, and keep yourself safe.”

“B-But, what if he –” he stutters, and you interrupt him, knowing just how to nip his desire to play hero in the bud.

“He might not stop at you, Daniel,” you point out, clenching your hands into fists to keep your body from trembling at the thought. “He could go after Mr. Miyagi, or me, or anyone. Best to not let him get to you; he’s like a ticking time bomb, and we don’t know what could set him off. Promise me you’ll stay out of trouble; stay with Mr. Miyagi as often as you can. I’m sure he’ll ease up after the tournament.”

Daniel’s forehead creases, and there’s a stubborn look in his eye, but he relents after a moment.

“Okay, fine. And you’ll stay safe too, right?”

“Yes, Danny – I promise. I won’t go near him or that dojo again.”

Daniel lets out a sigh of relief, and insists on accompanying you to the grocery store on your walk home.

“Daniel, you may be taking this a bit too far,” you tease as he helps you carry your things.

“Gotta keep you safe,” he huffs, having insisted on taking the heavier items.

“If anything, this is making me less safe, Daniel. After all, I’m not the karate champion; he’s not after me! You're just putting a target on my back,” you joke, but the boy seems insistent on taking this very seriously. You suppose that that’s better than the alternative.

He walks you to your door, ignoring your protests.

“Thank you, Daniel.” You’re grateful for the help, and the concern, but you had never been someone who liked relying on the support of others. “Now, please don’t do anything silly like risk yourself trying to stand guard, alright? I’m going to be fine.” You’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“Fine, fine. I’ll give you a call tonight though, alright?” Daniel insists, and you agree, parting ways for the day as you seal yourself in your apartment.

---

You spend the afternoon cleaning the apartment and watching TV, trying not to dwell on what Daniel had told you. You make sure to double-check that every window is locked as you move from room to room, cleaning thoroughly; it was a good way to work off all of this nervous energy.

The fact that Daniel didn’t think you were safe to talk in your own apartment has you on edge. Terry didn’t know where you lived – even if Daniel had told him you used to be neighbours in the now-demolished apartment building, he shouldn’t know where you lived now. And even if he did, it’s not like he could get inside… right?

By the time you’ve eaten dinner and done the dishes, you’re feeling more comfortable in your home again, and decide to relax further by running yourself a nice bath. You sink into the hot water and bubbles, letting the tension from the day escape you, closing your eyes…

The phone rings from the other room, startling you. You glare through the doorway at the offending noise. Daniel had said he was going to call you, but surely you could just call him back when you were out of the bath.

You decide to let the phone ring out, and hear your voice on the answering machine, telling the caller to leave a message after the ‘beep.’ The machine beeps, and there’s silence for a long moment.

“Hello, Y/N.”

The bath water suddenly feels ice cold. That wasn’t Danny.

“It’s Terry Silver.”

He didn’t need to introduce himself; you’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“You haven’t come by the dojo in a few days; I’ve missed seeing that pretty face. You know that we have a lot to talk about, and we should. You know where to find me.”

The message ends there, and you curl into a ball in the tub, resting your forehead on your knees as you force yourself to take deep, steady breaths. Your body is covered in goosebumps, though the water is still steaming.

Why was Terry calling you? Why was he acting like everything was fine? If you two had a lot to talk about, then he had assumed that Daniel had told you what he’d done, and should know that you wouldn’t want to talk to him about it. So was he just calling to scare you?

Taking a deep breath, you force your body to move, pulling the stopper out of the drain and standing up; there was no way you’d be able to enjoy the bath now. You dry off and head to your bedroom, rooting around your dresser for your winter pyjamas – you were freezing, despite the hot bath and it being the middle of the summer. Maybe some tea would help…

You walk into the kitchen and set the kettle to boil. Selecting a sleepy time teabag from your collection, you open the cupboard and grab a mug, moving back to the stove.

The phone rings again and you yelp, dropping your cup on the floor where it shatters. Ignoring the mess for the moment, you reach over and move the kettle off the element before gingerly hopping onto the counter, not wanting to get glass on your bare feet. Sitting next to the phone now, you find that you can’t move away from it as it continues to ring. Would it be him again?

The machine plays your voice again, the beep sounding ominous. You hold your breath, your gaze locked on the answering machine.

“Y/N?! Are you –”

You scramble to pick up the phone, feeling overwhelmed with relief.

“Hey Danny! Yes, I’m fine,” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Y/N! Why didn’t you pick up?” he demands, clearly worried that you’re not taking this seriously enough.

“I wanted to make sure it was you first, and not Terry calling.” Well, that was true, at least…

“Oh. That’s… that’s a really smart idea,” Daniel says, sounding appeased. “So, everything was normal today?”

“Yeah, I guess, all things considered…” You would not be telling him about Terry calling; it was exactly the type of thing that would have him camping out outside your front door, determined to protect you.

“And everything is alright with you and Mr. Miyagi? No goons ruining the shop or stealing the bonsais?”

“Yeah, nothing happened today. But we can’t let our guard down!”

You hum in agreement; you don’t think you’ll be letting your guard down any time soon.

You agree to check in with Daniel regularly over the next few days; there was only a week or so before the tournament, and hopefully all of this would blow over after that.

You sleep fitfully with the bedroom light on, though you’re not sure how exactly this makes you feel safer.

***

You’re on your way home from work a few days later, hopping off the bus at the stop closest to your house. It was late, and the streets were pretty much deserted in Reseda at this time of night. Your car was in the shop, and you forgot how much longer it took to get home by bus. But it was only a twenty minute walk or so to your apartment, so you aren’t worried.

That is, you weren’t worried until five minutes or so into your trek home.

A low whistle comes from behind you, and you jump, turning to look back even though you know you shouldn’t. A group of four men are following you, maybe fifty feet away. They’d been very quiet up to this point, but now that you’ve spotted them they are getting more rowdy, laughing and shoving each other.

“Look at that; she stopped when you whistled! What a well-trained, pretty little thing,” one of them comments, pitching his voice to carry over to you.

You turn back around, picking up your pace as quickly as you can without breaking into a run, scanning the area for a sign of someone else nearby who might be able to help. You hear the men laugh behind you, and they sound a lot closer.

“Where are you going, beautiful?”

“Why don’t you come have a drink with us; we’ll show you a good time!”

You come up to an intersection, and still, no one else is around. You have a decision to make. It was eight blocks to Daniel and Mr. Miyagi, six blocks to your apartment or… three blocks to the Cobra Kai dojo.

You veer right, sprinting down the street towards the dojo, tears blurring your vision, your heart racing as your feet pound the pavement; you hear one of them shout and can hear them coming after you. Even if Terry hated Daniel, even if he hated you, there was no way he was enough of a monster to stand by and let these men attack you. Please, let him still be there…

You’ve made it two blocks, but you can hear them getting closer, and even with the adrenaline pumping through you, you’re quickly starting to get tired, your breath burning in your throat. You try to push yourself further, you’re almost there… and you roll your ankle, making you stumble to the ground with a yelp.

You make to scramble to your feet, the skin on your palms and your knees burning as the night air hits the fresh scrapes, but quickly find yourself surrounded by the men.

“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself?” one asks mockingly, smirking down at you.

“Come with me, baby. I’ll take real good care of you,” leers another, making to grab your arm.

“Stay away from me,” you say weakly, your voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. It feels like your throat is closing up; you can’t scream, you can barely breathe.

One comes behind you, forcing his hands underneath your arms to pull you to your feet, and something about him touching you sets you off. You kick back with your leg, hitting him in the knee, making him let go of you; you send an elbow into his stomach and he lets out a pained grunt.

You move to run again – you were only a few doors away from the dojo – but a hand fists in your hair and shoves you over to a slab of raised concrete that housed a few plants. The hand at the back of your head pushes you down, bending you over the concrete, and you hit your head hard on the rough concrete, right on your browbone above one of your eyes and making you cry out with pain.

You’re pulled up by your hair again with a whimper, the man holding you pressing himself against your back.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous – did I hurt you?” he asks, his tone patronizing. “Here, let’s give that pretty little head of yours a softer spot to rest.”

He bends you over the concrete again, this time pushing you face first in the dirt. The men howl and jeer at your position, goading the other man as he holds both your wrists behind your back in his free hand. He grinds his hips against your butt, and you realize with a sickening feeling that he’s hard.

“Please, please don’t!” you beg, trying to make yourself heard as your voice is muffled by the dirt.

“Let me at her first,” growls a man from the side. “The little bitch deserves what’s coming to her for attacking me.”

Your pleas are completely drowned out as the men start to argue, closing in on you as you’re pinned down, their hands grabbing at your clothes. You can’t see, you can’t move, and your heart is thudding so loudly in your ears that you can barely hear.

And then one of them screams.

You’re paralyzed with fear, even as the man holding you down releases you, and you hear the sounds of fighting all around you as you slowly manage to push yourself off the dirt, curling into a ball on the ground. You know you should run away, but you just can’t.

After what seems like forever, you hear footsteps approaching you in the now silent night. Burying your face further in your knees, your whole body trembles.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name startles you enough to look up, and your eyes meet the familiar blue of Terry’s. Even crouched down on the ground next to you, you still have to crane your neck to look up at him. You breathe a sigh of relief; your intuition had been right. Terry had saved you.

“T-Terry?” you stammer, quickly moving from feeling numb to feeling very overwhelmed. “Oh G-God, Terry! They… they…” Your face crumples as you let out an anguished sob, curling up into a ball again and hiding your face.

You feel his large, warm hand touch your upper arm, trying to offer you comfort without startling you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” he murmurs soothingly. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ve got a first-aid kit, I’ll help patch you up. That’s quite a gash on your forehead.”

You whimper, but force yourself to nod, and he gently helps you to your feet. Looking around, you see two of the men collapsed on the sidewalk, the other two nowhere to be found. Still, the sight of them has you trembling so hard you’re worried you’ll fall over.

“Ssshh, it’s alright. They can’t hurt you anymore. Can you walk?”

You bob your head jerkily and move to walk the short distance to the dojo, but you stumble almost immediately. Before you even come close to hitting the ground, Terry has caught you, sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you bridal style over to Cobra Kai. He doesn’t put you down once you reach the front door, merely shifting you so that he has a free hand to open the door and taking you inside.

Walking past the large training area, Terry takes you to a back office, somewhere you’ve never been before. He sets you down on a cot – you knew that he had stayed somewhat regularly in the dojo, or at least, that’s what he’d told you – and orders you to stay put, leaving you alone in the room.

You sit up, leaning against the wall, trying not to cry. This has put you in a very awkward and potentially dangerous situation; just because Terry had saved you from a terrible fate didn’t mean that everything you now knew about him stopped being true. He was still unpredictable, unstable, violent… and possibly very upset with you.

You had to get out of there.

Before you even manage to climb off the bed, Terry is back, looming in the doorway with an armful of things. You freeze, and he comes around to the side of the cot, kneeling in front of you.

“I locked the doors, just to be safe. No one can get in here, I promise,” he reassures you in a soothing voice as he looks through the first-aid kit. You feel yourself start to relax despite your better judgement. Looking at the ground, you see that in addition to the first-aid kit he’s brought over the top of a karate gi, an empty bowl, a bottle of water, and a small towel.

“What’s all that for?” you ask quietly, your voice cracking as you speak. Terry looks up at your face before following your gaze to the objects on the floor.

“You have dirt all over your face; I want to make sure to clean you up so that your cut doesn’t get infected,” he replies calmly, filling the bowl with the water and dipping the towel to get it damp. “And the gi is for you; I thought you might be cold, especially if you go into shock.”

He picks it up, tossing it around your shoulders and loosely tying it at your waist. You slip your arms into the sleeves; it’s far too large for you, and as you take in a deep breath you notice that it smells like Terry. This must be one of his. Despite your better judgement, the scent has you relaxing slightly.

“It looks good on you,” he comments with a comforting smile, and you feel yourself blush. You force yourself to remember what Daniel had told you; you can’t let your guard down around him.

He lifts the damp towel to your face, and your eyes flutter closed as he wipes the dirt and blood away. The cloth presses against your cut and you let out a whimper that makes Terry murmur an apology. He was being so gentle with you.

Once he’s finished with the towel, you open your eyes, and his face is much closer to yours than you had anticipated it being. He takes your chin in his hand, staring at your face intently, and your whole body is rigid with tension.

“I don’t think you need stitches,” he informs you quietly after a moment. “A bandage will be fine. I’ll need to disinfect it, and that will probably hurt a bit, okay?”

You hesitate, again finding it difficult to speak, but eventually give him a nod.

“Lay down.”

“What? Why?” you ask, leaning away from him as you start to panic. He shushes you again, but it’s less comforting than the last time he did it.

“I don’t want the disinfectant getting in your eye is all,” he coos, his hands gentle but firm as he guides your body to the side and lays you on your back on the bed. You force yourself to take deep breaths.

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter the apology, hoping you haven’t offended him for some reason.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable reaction,” he murmurs, rifling through the first-aid kit. “You just had a traumatic experience, after all,” he adds after a moment. “Okay, this is gonna sting. Do you want to squeeze my hand?” he asks, offering it to you.

You set your mouth in a firm line, your body tense in anticipation of the pain, and grab fistfuls of the blanket beneath you in both hands. Terry doesn’t seem at all bothered by your rejection, leaning over you and applying the cold gel to your wound. It stings terribly, and you bite your lip, clenching your eyes shut and trying not to make a noise.

You force your eyes open after a long moment of silence, and see that Terry’s eyes are still on your face, watching your reaction with an intense expression. Something in your belly clenches.

He looks away, choosing a bandage and applying it over your eye, though you think he presses down on it more firmly than necessary.

“There,” he says softly, surveying his work; he’s still holding your head in his hands. “All better.”

He’s doing it again – using that weird, magnetic pull he has to draw you in, make you feel… well, definitely not safe, but like you want to stay on this dangerous precipice with him.

“Thank you,” you say, speaking more loudly than necessary as you move to climb off the bed, intentionally disrupting the intimate atmosphere. You had to get away from him before he sunk his claws into you; in some ways, he felt more dangerous than the men he had saved you from.

“Y/N, wait,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder and keeping you in place.

“I have to get home, I–”

“I’ve missed you.”

You freeze at his words, staring straight ahead at his chest.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You force yourself to breathe again – when did it get so difficult?

“You know why,” you whisper after a long moment, still refusing to look at him. Suddenly, the gi top that had just felt so warm and comforting feels like a straightjacket, and your fingers move to untie it and take it off. You feel his gaze track the motion, but he doesn’t stop you.

“I haven’t done anything to you, Y/N.”

“You’ve been lying to me ever since I met you, Terry!” you snap, your wariness disappearing for a moment.

“I have not,” he growls, setting off alarm bells in your head. “I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never hurt you. I just saved your ass, for fuck’s sake!”

“What about Danny? What about Mike and Snake and–”

Terry’s hand covers your mouth suddenly. You fall silent as a jolt of desire like electricity courses through you. You hate the feeling with every fibre of your being.

“I never lied to him either, and I certainly never hurt him. He just didn’t bother asking the right questions.”

“You’re trying to get out of this on a technicality?” you say once you’ve pried his hand off of your face. He shrugs, an amused smile twisting his lips.

“I’m very good at what I do, Y/N. I have my reasons to make sure LaRusso loses the tournament, and I feel very justified in the training methods I’ve used. I don’t see what any of that has to do with you, though.”

“You’re messing with a kid!”

“Please. He’s practically an adult, and he’s certainly old enough to face the consequences of his actions. But be honest – that’s not why you’re scared of me, sweetheart. What’s the real problem you have with me?”

You’re quiet, biting your lip as you contemplate how to begin to answer his question.

“I know what it is,” he croons, his voice almost musical as he stands over you, moving to brace himself with his hands on either side of you. You lean back as his face gets dangerously close to yours. “You’re scared of what you feel when you look at me, isn’t that right? Scared of what you know you want, thinking about me as you lay awake at night?”

Your heart is beating in your throat, your face heating up.

“I… No, I…”

“Ssshhh,” Terry whispers, closing the distance between your faces once more. You can’t move, you can’t think, you can’t breathe. “It’s okay that you’re scared, babygirl. Let me show you what you really want…”

Cradling your head in his hands gently, he pulls you close, kissing you with a passion and a bruising force that is anything but gentle. You brain seems to short-circuit from the intensity of the kiss, and for a brief moment you’re kissing him back; the desire overwhelming you as he stokes it into a burning flame with his lips and tongue. You force yourself to fight through the dizziness, your head spinning.

“Mmhn… Terry… NO!” you say firmly, shoving him in the chest. He moves back a couple of steps, his head cocked as he looks down at you. The moonlight streams in from the window behind him, his eyes glinting brightly at you. He doesn’t seem upset with you.

He also doesn’t seem deterred.

“Don’t fight this, doll. I’ve seen the way you look at me; I know you want it,” he purrs in a husky voice, smirking at you as he slowly approaches the bed once more.

He couldn’t do this… He wouldn’t do this… He had just saved you from those men trying to do this exact thing!

“No, Terry,” you insist, climbing off the side of the bed, your eyes fixed on him. “I don’t want this. Please stay away from me,” you beg, backing through the doorway. The last thing you see is his mouth twisting into a predatory grin that makes you turn and run.

Scrambling, you make your way to the front of the dojo and go to tug the door open.

It doesn’t budge.

“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” you hear Terry sing menacingly from the office; the sound of it sends shivers down your spine. He laughs maniacally, like a hyena, before appearing in the doorway, calm as can be. “Double-sided locking system; I thought we might be needing it.”

A sense of dread roots you to the spot, and you feel your teeth chattering.

“You… you planned this?” you say, your voice barely more than a high-pitched whisper, but the sound carries through the silence of the dojo.

“I have far more than just Barnes, Dennis and Snake at my disposal,” he says, giving you a cruel smile. “Those guys were more than happy to go after you for free; I mostly paid them to let me kick their asses without them bitching about it or giving me away.”

“Why?!” you ask frustratedly. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew that if Terry had wanted to get you here, he could have done so himself, without needing to stage an attack. This was madness.

“I wanted to see if you’d come to me for help, even knowing what Danny-Boy told you. And you did!” he says, sounding delighted, like he’s praising a child for picking up their toys. He slowly approaches you, and you try to maintain the distance between you, but it’s no use. He’s bigger, he knows what he’s doing, and you’re terrified.

“Guess you shoulda listened to Danny-Boy, huh?”

---

Part 2

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #karate kid #kk3 #the karate kid 3 #smut #thanks for the ask! #keep the requests coming #dark desires october

[gingerjolover]

would you ever consider doing a blurb (both for the boys and muna) about the other 2/3 treat one’s partner??

that might not make any sense im sorry idk how to word it but basically like how jb/pb would treat lucy’s gf, etc (maybe like nicknames, if they’re protective or like mom vibes) idk! sorry all my requests are long LMAOOO love u mama

omg yes!!!! i have so many hc for how they all treat soft!gf but i can do a more general partners blurb!!!!

(never apologize for requesting 🤫)

also love u baby

#anon cutie #i love this idea #keep the requests coming #i like em long don’t even worry about it

[celestial-astro]

Can you do a read on haechan from NCT. Is he dating anyone?

Hmmm….

I don’t usually do readings like these, but I can try.

The cards: The Fool, King of Cups, Wheel of Fortune

So, the good thing is the cards are positive. The intuitively I’m getting a maybe… I say this because The Fool can represent happiness and taking a leap forward, the King of Cups is the king of emotions, and the Wheel of Fortune can represent a cycle or completion of a phase. He could definitely be, but the good thing regardless if he is dating is that he seems to be very emotionally content and happy at the moment. There is also a feeling of leaving behind negativity. I know it’s not too specific, but it feels too invasive to look into it deeply and also the energy isn’t too clear right now. I might do a follow up read after a bit to see. Right now, this is all I’m getting.

tldr; it’s a maybe, good thing is that he seems to be emotionally happy at this moment.

#tarot requests #keep the requests coming #I’m bored and need something to do

[ravennowithtea]

you can reply here with fanart requests/ideas or drop stuff in my askbox ✌️

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanart #bloodweave #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #[oc tag] #look - i just wanna make a lil zine of shippy stuff of these two idiots (affectionate) so help me come up with some ideas #tis the season #(or recommend some fics you've enjoyed) #i havent done an open call for art requests in a while so here's hoping this goes okay 🤞 #lets try to keep this relatively safe for tumblr but if anyone has nsft ideas then maybe ill shove those to bsky :p #commissions and requests #audience participation

[mobius-m-mobius]

It's a pretty cool name.

Loki + the progression of saying Mobius' name for @percheduphere

#mobius #loki #lokius #mcuedit #lokiedit #marveledit #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #tysm for the amazing request because GOD did making this hit harder than i'd even expected?? #like it's kind of a given mobius fell first #but i've been so swamped all month i basically only had time to finish maybe a gif per night #and let me tell you watching loki progressively fall harder with each and every scene was uh. an experience all right 🙃😳 #in S1 loki's so obviously trying to keep their guard up until mobius gets pruned protecting them and it's like a switch flips #the walls come down and you see the power of being believed in the pure RELIEF mobius' presence brings #how much he's valued and needed and LOVED as loki tries to hold him close only to lose him again and again #leading to desperation building until the only option left is to sacrifice everything not realizing now they're both left wanting #y'all i'll never recover 😭 #marvel #owenwilsonedit #dianagifs

[stedefxckingbonnet]

PLEASE WRITE BEING IZZY'S LOVER (gn) AND IZZY ACTUALLY SURVIVED BECAUSE IDK THEY EITHER MISSED OR THE LOVER MANAGED TO SAVE HIM OR ANYTHING I JUST NEED TO SAVE THIS MAN 😭🙏

I GOT YOU!!! Here's my little fix-it fic, all! Writing this made me feel a bit better because my god I finally brought myself to watching the finale even after knowing all that happened already and wow I was not okay. But perhaps this fic is me turning poison into positivity in my own way? Yeah. Yeah! I'll leave it at that :) This one is a bit shorter but, it's short and sweet, I thinl!

I didn't really want to recount the battle itself, just more-so the aftermath, so please keep that in mind whilst reading in case it feels like I dove in a bit too suddenly and quickly!

Keep the requests coming, all! I love you all so, so dearly.

Love,

Lavinia

My Favorite | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: light angst (but there's fluff GALORE and it ends happily, i swear!), some strong language, brief mentions of being shot, tending to an injury/mentions of injury (non-graphic descriptions)

Word Count: 1481

In your periphery, you couldn't help but notice Izzy suddenly hunched over, clutching his stomach. Everyone else managed to continue charging forward with their weapons, but you had other plans, and knew that both you and Izzy would be better for it. You rushed over to him without any hesitation, slinging his arm around you gently as you ushered him back to the ship as quickly as you could. His breathing staggered and the sound of it motivated you to move even faster.

You managed to rush him back to your quarters; in case the rest of the crew came stumbling onto The Revenge again, you would be able to focus on the most important mission of your life—helping Izzy Hands survive.

"I'm alright, love," Izzy breathed out, looking up at you as you cleaned the wound and prepared to bandage it.

"Clearly, you aren't," you laughed sadly, fighting back tears as you worked.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he sighed as he spotted you scrambling all over the place, very clearly in a panic about all of this. You so badly wanted to stop right there and scold him. You didn't have to do this? Was he fucking kidding? Of course you had to do this, you wanted to do this. You wanted him to be okay, needed him to be. You wanted to take away the harm brought upon him. You wanted to see him live another day and many, many more. You craved to see him go on to send you another one of his not-so-discreet-anymore smiles that got you through the toughest of times. You don't have to do this? How could he be so foolish? He was by far the most intelligent aboard the ship and yet, he still managed to say such a silly thing.

"Did you hear me?"

"Oh, I heard you," you almost seethed. "And once again, I will be ignoring your request."

"You manage to go and do that so much and yet, you're still my favorite," he weakly shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling and laughed under his breath.

You stopped in your tracks, for just a moment. You figured you could—Izzy was all patched up and all that was left to do was sit with him and make sure the bleeding stops and give him food, water, anything else he needed, and you were beyond happy to do so. You needed to be sure he was okay. But what he had just admitted to you earned quite a bit of a shock from you, a shock you couldn't quite process running all around the room. "I'm your favorite?"

He laughed once again, coughing immediately after and reaching to clutch his abdomen once again. You immediately sat down beside him, not realizing you had started to gently touch his cheek. "Isn't that fucking obvious? Everyone else sure as hell knows it."

You couldn't help but laugh yourself. "I guess? I don't know. You're my favorite too, you know."

"Oh, don't bother lying just because I'm injured," Izzy teased, reaching out to flick you in the arm.

"I'm not lying!" you threw your hands up in a playful surrender. "I mean it, Izzy. You know I do. And I don't want anything happening to you. I don't know what I'd do if you..." and with that, the tears began to spill out. Izzy knew there was no use trying to sit up, but he was able to extend his arm around you.

"I signed up for this," he shrugged.

"As long as I'm around, you are not dying any fucking time soon. Okay? You got that?"

Izzy's lips formed a smirk. "I love it when you get feisty."

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you giggled. Though suddenly, your expression hardened, and even Izzy noticed you were about to say something of the serious vein. "You really scared me back there, Iz."

Izzy could only sigh—he knew that none of the words he could muster would be enough to relieve you just yet, or even at all. And what was he supposed to say, anyway? That he was sorry he let himself get shot? Sorry that he didn't immediately seek help? Sorry that you had to see that? That he was so fucking exhausted of the life he's made for himself after all?

You made your way over to the foot of the bed, carefully sitting and stroking his leg. "I'm sorry," you suddenly lamented.

"Why are you sorry?"

"You just really scared me. I didn't want to lose you but I don't want you feeling bad about it either because it wasn't your fault you got hurt," you sighed, averting your eyes from his gaze.

Izzy slowly sat up, rubbing your upper back before gently wrapping his arm around you and resting his head upon your shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, you know. I promise."

"I know," you exhaled. "I just...I could have lost you, and that thought absolutely haunts me every time we raid or duel or see another ship at all, or even just roam about the Republic of Pirates, but I know this is your life and what you're used to and I would never yank you away from—"

"I don't want any of it anymore," Izzy suddenly admitted. "I'm tired. So fucking tired. And I don't even know how many wounds my body can take anymore."

You laughed sadly, craning your head over to look at him once again. Even after the years of suffering and pain that remained on his face at times, he was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. And, he was healing as of late—you could see that, everyone could see that. "Well, what are you saying? And no, it isn't obvious—"

"I want to live," Izzy assured you. "But not this life. A different one."

"What would that look like to you?"

"I don't know," he whispered, almost ashamed of this answer.

"It's okay not to know. I'm up for anything as long as you are right there beside me," you reassured him as you planted a gentle kiss upon his forehead.

"Really? You'll stay with me?" Izzy asked in disbelief.

"I love you, Izzy. You. Not because you're Blackbeard's first mate, not because you're a pirate. Because you're you. You're Israel Hands. You are clever and caring and proud and you have so much else to offer this world, away from the sea. Beyond all this."

Izzy lifted his arms up from his sides, wincing as he did so, his hands flying back to his abdomen. You smiled softly as you ever so carefully wrapped your arms around him, making sure not to squeeze so tight. One of your hands made its way up to the back of his head as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. You suddenly heard him whimpering and it brought tears to your own eyes. At last, he spoke. "Fuck you."

You couldn't help but giggle as you sat back up once again.

"I love you," Izzy spoke sincerely, hoping with every part of him that this came across. By now, your face was in his hands, and he looked at you in such a way that truly did confirm his tenderness, his endless adoration that he reserved for you and only you.

You knew exactly the response he was searching for. He knew that you had love for him already—you were never exactly subtle about it. And he never exactly minded it. "I know that, Iz. I promise you."

"Suppose we should say goodbye to everyone?"

"We will. I just want to be here with you right now."

"I wouldn't mind that."

You lay down beside Izzy, draping your arm over his chest as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. He hums happily as you do, and he instantly settles into the warmth you provide. Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut and even in your dreams, Izzy Hands is there and you are together and you are living without fear and judgment, and the only thing you're stressing about is what to make for breakfast that day even though he'll always mumble, "Anything will do, darling." Perhaps whatever life the two of you should lead will come to you in your dreams and you will eagerly share these ideas once you awaken. In this moment, you were just grateful to get to spend the rest of your life with none other than him, and it almost didn't matter what endeavors you embarked on alongside one another from this moment forward. You finished the ditty Izzy was humming before you succumbed to the sweet dreams he wished upon you, and you looked forward to your dreams that were about to come true in just a few hours.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd season 2 #x reader #izzy hands my beloved #ofmd s2 #fanfic #ofmd izzy hands #fix it fic #fix it au #izzy is alive and well wdym? #fluff #light angst #requests open #keep the requests coming #please request #established relationship

[heartelysia]

busy thinking of...

toxic ex! gojo who only broke up with you because he needed to move on! at least he thought he did until you did move on without him, leaving him in the dust. he tries his best to forget about you! he really does, sinking his head into his palms the same way hes sinking his cock into the girl below him. but nothing feels good, nothing can make the aching emptiness in his chest go away, not if its not you.

god he didnt even notice how intoxicated he was with you until you left. you were everything he needed to fucking survive and you just up and left like your three year long relationship was nothing? toxic ex! gojo who will do anything for you back, buying a cup of overpriced coffee at your regular place just to bump heads with you every single day, buying you random flowers and leaving them in your break room of your workplace, texting you non stop even when you blocked most of his accounts.

toxic ex! gojo whos anger boils in the pit of his stomach when you rejected all of his advances, blaming you for all wrongdoings because this would've never happened if you loved him more! he would've mever broken up with you, he wouldnt have to go to the earths ledge for a tiny spark in your 'relationship', he would never have to end up with a fucking restraining order.

hes mad. hes mad that you moved on, hes angry that you left him without begging to stay together, hes furious that your life isn't in shambles. toxic ex! gojo needs you dependant on him, he cant just have you wandering off to another person so easily next time. so he does what any sane person does and stalks you from a distance until the restraining order expires, watching your life unfold in his hollow blue eyes.

dear lord knows how many things toxic ex! gojo has done to try and forget you but nothing seemed to work! from getting into multiple relationships, getting a brand new job in an area he has no experience in to travelling the world, yet everything he did seemed to remind him of your sweet smile.

as any other human being would do, as soon as the document hits its end, he shreds it up and makes his way to your home. you seemed too happy, forgetting about your ex entirely, getting random flings, meeting some new dude called toji, going on dates with said man. toxic ex! gojo couldnt allow that, you were his. you were his property even if you didnt know it and gojo didnt like sharing his property with others.

toxic ex! gojo who couldnt help but notice how many of your flings resembled him, personality or appearance wise, there was always something similar to your ex. that was until toji came into the picture, he was nothing like gojo and your ex felt his veins bulge in irritation. he was your first everything - from hand holding, kissing, picnic dates to sex - so you should still be with him!

he needed you back, he needed you to crawl back to him and plead for forgiveness but that never came. toxic ex! gojo who would break into your apartment when youre on dates with the new man, scoffing when he realizes you still left a spare copy of the keys behind the painting hanging above your door. god you were so easy. when hes inside your apartment, hes hit with the fattest wave of nostalgia.

he instantly heads into your shabby room that gojo stayed in whenever, inhaling the scent of your sweetness like it was an addictive drug. he swears theres a hint of his musk but it might just be someone elses considering its been two years. toxic ex! gojo didnt like that. he fucking hated that idea.

maybe thats how he ended up here, his voice whiny and airy as he desperately humps your pillow as he shoves his nose into the area where it covered your cunt. his poor cock was aching, his tip a burning red colour as the veins running down his thick cock throbbed each time he took a whiff of your panties. god he was so needy, after months of being unable to reach a satisfactory climax, just the feeling of rutting his hips into your pillow that you used daily made precum dribble out of his cock in buckets.

whilst youre happily on the date with toji, gojo is busy having seconds by staining any and all surface in his cum discreetly. he thinks hes never came this much just from masturbating, his balls wrung dry to the core just by the memory of your sweet cunt sloppily making a mess all over his balls and pelvis.

but when the front door of your apartment creaks open, gojo freezes, unable to hide the initial shock on his face. why were your sobs filling the silence?

part 2

#☆.elys ramble #tbh this is just filler content bc i already hit writers block. SOMEONE LEAVE REQUESTS OR JUST THIRSTS PLEASD #THIRSTS ANYONE??? #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #cw dark content #dark content #tw dark content #jjk thirsts #truth is i actually kinda fucking hate gojo like gege #“my glorious king will come back!” no tf he wont 😂🙏 #shoko clutch up tho... cmon u sexy gal #“b-b-but daddy mahoragra!!!” keep those waterworks coming cause we all know sukuna clapped gojo 😂😂😂😂😂😂 #gojos hot tho. just not sukuna hot #sukuna mogs 🤫🧏

[karatekels]

Fresh Start - Day 14 (Part 3)

Hi everyone! Yeah, it's here. The end (for now) of Fresh Start. I hope this gives you all the ending that you were looking for!

---

Previous Parts:

Days 4 & 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Days 8 & 9 | Days 10 & 11 | Day 12-A | Day 12-B | Day 13-A | Day 13-B | Day 13-C | Day 14-A | Day 14-B

---

Day 14 - Evening

You step out of your bathroom in a towel, your damp hair down to let it finish drying. You always needed to shower as soon as you got home after a flight; airplanes made you feel gross. You feel clean and a bit more relaxed, but still exhausted; it had not been an enjoyable journey.

You hadn’t shed more than a few tears between exiting Terry’s limo and walking through your own front door, and you suppose you were proud of yourself for managing to keep it together. If anything, you had been numb most of the way home, staring blankly into space and thinking about nothing; it was easier than thinking about everything you were leaving behind.

The minute you walked through your own front door though, you had fallen apart. Being home really seemed to confirm the fact that you were away from Terry, as silly as that sounded. You missed him terribly already… it felt like some invisible force was trying to pull you back to California, to him.

To make matters worse, your ex had come by while you were away to move out the rest of his things. You had arranged it with him before you had left for your trip, but coming home to your place half empty was oddly unsettling. So many memories had left with the furniture. This didn’t even really feel like home anymore, and it made you feel even worse. It also didn’t help that all of your memories of this space involved your ex, and your relationship. They weren’t bad memories, but they make you feel guilty for some reason, like you were being unfaithful to Terry by being in the apartment you’d shared with your ex.

Sighing to yourself, you walk over to your suitcase – you had tossed it on your bed when you’d gotten home. You may as well unpack now and get it over with; maybe it would make it easier to convince yourself that you were back to reality, and make the space feel more lived in again. You tug the zipper around and flip the top open, almost bursting into tears when you see what’s inside.

Terry had left you a surprise, since you had insisted on leaving your book with him, and true to your word, you hadn’t peeked before now. There, laying right on top of your things, is the shirt of Terry’s that you’d been sleeping in the past few nights. Gingerly, you pick it up, bringing it to your face; it still smells like his cologne. That thoughtful, wonderful man…

Dropping your towel, you throw the shirt on, immediately feeling so much better. It obviously wasn’t as good as being in his arms again, but it did almost feel like a hug from him. Unable to keep the smile off your face, you hum to yourself as you unpack your things before heading into the kitchen to eat the food you’d picked up on the way home.

Sitting at the kitchen counter, you munch on a pizza slice, scrolling through your phone and the pictures you’d taken when you and Terry had visited the botanical gardens. You hadn’t taken any of Terry, or even of yourself – you’d been too nervous at the time – but just looking at the things you’d seen together has you missing him more and more. Somehow, your sense of home had migrated to California with you, and this place just wasn’t the same anymore. You knew exactly where you wanted to be.

Biting your lip, you start doing some Google searches on your phone; just to plan for the future, you tell yourself. It wasn’t like you’d need to move all of your things…

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you see that your mom is calling. Reluctantly, you answer.

“Hey mom, sorry I forgot to message you. I’m home safe, just unpacking.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear from you for days, Y/N. You’re normally much better at responding to my calls.”

“I’m sorry, mom, it was a busy trip.”

“And just what did you get up to that kept you from sending your mother an email?”

“I was on vacation mom, exploring the city! I did a lot of day trips, went to a botanical garden, a museum, the beach…”

“Alone?” she asks suspiciously. You walk towards your bedroom, pausing to lightly bang your head against the doorframe as you do. Could she not just leave things alone?

“You know I don’t have any friends in L.A., mom,” you say exasperatedly, avoiding answering the question. Terry was far more than a friend at this point…

“What about the gentleman that called me about your lost wallet?”

You try to keep the smile out of your voice as you respond; just the thought of Terry has you beaming. “I told you, mom, he’s just a guy that found my wallet. We weren’t on a date.” That was true, at least…

“So you couldn’t find a man in all of L.A.?”

“I wasn’t really looking, mom. You know that.” Again, you sidestep the question. Technically, you were being honest; you’d fought tooth and nail to deny your feelings for Terry, and his feelings for you, for those brief horrible hours the other night. You hadn’t wanted this to happen, and you’re still so happy that it did.

“Well, I guess that’s alright. I’ve been talking you up to some of the ladies in my office, and I’m sure one of their sons will be calling soon to take you out.”

“No!” you all but shriek into the phone. Just the thought of being set up with anyone else, having any man other than Terry looking at you with romantic intentions, has you feeling disgusted.

“Y/N, what has gotten into you?!” you mother snaps at you, appalled.

You swallow, trying to calm yourself and come up with an adequate explanation all at the same time.

“Sorry, mom. I didn’t mean to yell. I know that your heart is in the right place, but I’m really not looking for a new relationship right now.”

There was no way you were telling her about Terry. You didn’t want her anywhere near this relationship, near him, especially in these early stages of your relationship. Being in L.A. would make this so much easier…

“I actually did meet someone mom, but –” You’re cut off by her shrieking into the phone now. You roll your eyes, wanting to be convincing. Playing with the hem of Terry’s shirt, you imagine that he’d be very entertained by the conversation you were having right now, and the thought has you smiling softly to yourself as you picture him sitting on your bed, his mouth quirked in an amused smile.

“–But it wasn’t like that,” you insist, trying to reclaim her focus. “It was someone who works at the parent company for one of the places I’m scheduled to interview at here next week. She was nice, we met on the beach and got to talking on one of my first days there. She told me I’d be a great fit for another job opening… in California.”

“You’re moving to California!? Are you crazy? You were there for two weeks and you’re just going to leave your family and everything you know at the drop of a hat? You are being completely irresponsible, Y/N, and–”

“Mom!” you cut her off, frustrated. You briefly wonder what her response would be if you told her the truth. Yeah mom, I met a rich, handsome billionaire and we’re in love. I want to go live with him. By the way, he’s older than you and dad…

“I didn’t say yes!” you tell her instead. “I would still have to interview for it, but I told her I’d think about it.” There, hopefully that would calm her down.

“You can’t move across the country by yourself, Y/N! If you were with someone, then sure, maybe, but you need a partner. You can’t do this alone.”

“People relocate for work all the time, mom! I would be perfectly fine on my own.” You don’t think you’ve ever been so frustrated by a conversation based on a completely made-up scenario; somehow it made this whole thing even more annoying.

“Look, I don’t want to fight with you. I’m tired, I’ve had a long day of travel, and I have a lot of thinking to do. I’ll talk to you later, mom. I love you. Bye.”

Hanging up, you toss your phone onto your bed with a bit more force than necessary. You use the energy that has built up from your argument rearranging some of the furniture; now that so much of it was missing, you needed to shuffle things around to get rid of the large, empty spaces that littered your bedroom.

Your phone vibrates again when you’re in the middle of pushing a heavy dresser, and you growl; your mother didn’t know when to just drop it. Angrily, you snatch your phone off the bed and answer it.

“Alright fine, you caught me – I did meet someone. He knocked me up, actually; it’s triplets!”

“What a lovely way to be given the news of my impending fatherhood, Y/N.”

“Terry!” you exclaim happily, before the embarrassment sets in. You drag a hand down your face, feeling like an idiot; a lesser man would’ve definitely hung up and run screaming by now. “I’m sorry, I thought you were my mom calling me back; I got mad and hung up on her awhile ago… I haven’t scared you off, have I?” you ask nervously, biting your thumbnail.

Terry is quiet for a moment, and you start to worry.

“It would take much more than that to keep me away from you.”

Had his voice always been quite this deep and husky? Or were you just noticing it more because you weren’t able to be distracted by the sight of him right now?

“You didn’t seem like the type to scare easily,” you joke, “But good to know. I’m glad you called.” It was true; the second you heard his voice you felt your whole body relax.

“I missed hearing your voice. I’ve gotten used to having you around.”

“I know what you mean – witty banter is a lot harder when it’s just me.”

“You talk enough for two, I’m sure you’re managing,” he teases, and you make a grumpy noise to convey your displeasure, smiling all the while. God, you missed the way you poked at each other; it was quickly becoming your favourite pastime.

“How was the rest of your day?” you ask, pointedly changing the subject, and you hear him snicker at your change in tone.

“Fine, boring. And yours? How was your flight?”

“Long and uneventful. I haven’t done much else with my day.”

Should you tell him what you’d spent most of your time home doing? What you’d been researching? Was it too soon? It was much harder gaging his responses to things when you weren’t able to see him.

“…Have you unpacked yet?” Terry asks, clearly fishing for something. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what.

“Yes, Terry, I found your surprise,” you say with mock exasperation, running the fingers of your other hand across the fabric of his shirt fondly. “Thank you, it was a wonderful surprise.”

“And are you wearing it?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave and taking on a husky quality.

“Maaaybe…” you tease, flopping back onto your bed with a coy smile.

“What else are you wearing?” he asks, his voice becoming even more seductive tone.

“Why are you trying to torment yourself, Terry?” you ask, giggling at his antics. His sex drive clearly hadn’t been tamped down by your departure; you could relate.

“Answer the question.” He’s using that firm, commanding tone now, the one that makes your whole body clench in desire. Yes, you were definitely looking forward to letting him have his way with you at the earliest opportunity…

“I can’t!” you tell him truthfully, refusing to elaborate.

“And why not?”

“I’m not wearing anything else,” you inform him cheekily.

You hear a quiet growling noise that makes you giggle even as it turns you on.

“What was that?” you ask in your most innocent voice.

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

“Uh-huh. I don’t know what you expected, trying to initiate phone sex.”

“Phone sex?” he asks. He falls quiet for a long moment, and you can tell that he’s thinking the concept over. “Interesting. As enjoyable as that would be, I’m going to insist on having you here in person the first time I make you come from my words alone; I want to watch,” he purrs, and a shiver runs through you.

“Then you’d better stop talking like that right now, Mr. Silver,” you warn, only half-joking. You’re starting to get very turned on.

“Fine.” You can hear his pout as he heeds your warning. You share his sentiment; phone sex could be a very fun thing to try out while you were regrettably apart.

“So, did you just call to ask me what I’m wearing?” you ask lightly, changing the subject again; it always seemed to return to something sexual. Terry was a hard man to deter when he set his mind on something.

“No. I called because I miss you,” he says curtly, but you can hear the yearning in his tone. Was he a little embarrassed about how much he missed you? The thought makes your heart melt.

“I miss you too, love,” you tell him sincerely, not wanting him to feel self-conscious about his own feelings. You get a rush of giddiness at the knowledge that you could call him love; doing so has your heart fluttering in your chest; it had never felt so natural or so right with anyone else. Still, these feelings drive home the fact that your love is on the other side of the country, so far away from you, and you find yourself quickly spiraling down from the brief high that Terry’s call had initially made you feel.

“Happy to be home?” he asks, and he seems genuine, but the question gets your hackles up.

“You know I’m not, Terry,” you snap at him, but then you check yourself. “Sorry, that sounded mean.”

“I would say it was rather tame for you,” he jokes. He always excused so much of your terrible behaviour… how on earth had you possibly managed to win his heart?

“But I did mean it,” you continue. You didn’t really want to talk about these things with Terry; it would likely just make both of you feel bad, but you were really trying to be honest and upfront with your emotions, Victor’s words ringing in your mind. “It just doesn’t really feel like I’m home, especially since the place is half empty now.”

“Were you robbed?” he asks with a slight chuckle, but you detect an underlying note of concern in his voice.

“No, my ex came back while I was away and moved out the rest of his stuff. We’d been putting it off for awhile.”

There is no response.

“Terry?” you ask hesitantly, feeling a sense of dread at his silence.

“…you’re living in the place you lived in with your ex?” He sounds anxious, and not at all happy when he replies.

You bite back a groan, but a deep sigh manages to escape you. You knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut, honesty be damned.

“Terry, we’ve been over this. We broke up months ago, amicably. We’ve both moved on. I knew he was coming to do it while I was away, I just wasn’t expecting it when I walked through the door. There’s no reason to be jealous; he’s fully out of my life,” you say, trying to use a calm, soothing voice.

“I’m not jealous, I’m indignant.” He huffs, and you can picture the grumpy frown he’s likely wearing. Strangely, his behaviour makes you want to push him further. Jealousy would probably look really good on him…

“You’re kind of adorable when you’re jealous,” you tease, hoping to provoke him.

“Come over there and show you adorable…” he mutters under his breath. You bite back the giggle that threatens to escape you, a result of both your amusement and growing desire.

“Terry?” you call his name, trying to reclaim his attention.

“What?”

“I love you,” you say sweetly.

“I love you too, Y/N.” You would never get tired of hearing him say that; just hearing him say your name the way he did makes you tingle all over.

“Will you let me talk without getting all grumpy?” you ask him patronizingly, trying to get back on track.

“I am perfectly capable of having a conversation, my dear,” he grumbles, letting out a cute little ‘harrumph!’ noise.

“Good enough for me!” you say cheerily, before pausing to take a breath. You would tell him now – it would certainly help bring his mood up. Or, at least you hope it will.

“Like I was saying, home hasn’t really felt like home since I’ve been back. I’ve actually… spent most of the evening looking at moving companies that drive cross-country.”

You bite your lip, waiting to see how he’ll take that little bit of news. Would he still want you? What if it was too soon?

There’s another stretch of silence that feels like it goes on forever, before you hear Terry let out a quiet laugh.

“Terry?” you call his name again, nervously this time.

“I spent most of your flight doing the same thing,” he confesses in a slightly breathless voice.

“…Really?!” you can’t contain your excitement and relief, nearly shrieking the word into the phone. Oh, thank God…

“As it turns out, I may not be as patient as I said I would be.”

“That’s alright with me; I’ve fallen for you far ahead of schedule.”

“I’ll send you the options I think are best. Let me know which you’d prefer and I will organize the move when you’re ready so they’ll treat your things with the respect they deserve.” There’s a warning in his tone, and you know it’s not meant for you, but for any hypothetical movers who dared to be careless with your boxes. You hope they know who they’ll be dealing with.

“Show-off,” you tease, wanting to rile him up again. You’re thrilled to hear that you’re on the same page, for once. Apparently all it had taken was a couple thousand miles between you for you to really know what you want.

“That’s nothing; just wait until I send the private plane for you,” he threatens, but you get the sense that the teasing is over; he’s entirely serious.

“Will you be onthe plane?” you ask pointedly. There was no way you would let him send a plane just for you. Even if he was on the plane it was a ridiculous thing to do, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the opportunity to see him hours sooner.

“I could be...” he says neutrally, and you roll your eyes. He always wanted to hear you say that you wanted him. You were normally more than happy to oblige, but he was such a spoiled brat sometimes.

“If you’ll be my flight attendant, I’ll allow it; otherwise it’s economy class for me!” you inform him cheerily, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at the very suggestion.

“Then I will definitely be coming to get you,” he says decisively, his disdain at the thought of you sitting amongst your fellow commonfolk on a plane very apparent in his tone.

“I never thought I’d join the Mile High club, but I imagine that’ll be an inevitability with you,” you comment offhandedly, trying not to giggle at the thought. You hear a sharp intake of breath on the other line that gets your blood pumping.

“I’m liking this plan more and more; you trapped on a plane with me for hours. I’ll have you over your embarrassment about moaning where others can hear you by the time we land, provided you don’t end up distracting the pilot.”

Your cheeks redden at the thought, and you collapse into a brief fit of breathless giggles that gradually turn into a yawn.

“Tired, love? You’ve had a long day,” Terry says gently, his voice tinged with concern.

“Yeah, I guess so.” A long day was a bit of an understatement; your emotions had been on a near-constant rollercoaster of peaks and valleys for days now, and it had taken a lot out of you. “But I don’t wanna sleep,” you whine petulantly, even as you burrow into your bed and turn out the light. “Wanna talk to you…”

You hear Terry chuckle under his breath.

“As charmed as I am by you right now, you should rest, my love. We can talk more tomorrow, start planning your move?” Though he’s keeping his voice quiet and calming, you can detect the undercurrent of excitement in his words.

“So pushy, Mr. Silver,” you tease, feeling your own excitement reflected in your words.

“Act aloof all you want, Y/N, but you’ve shown your hand. I know how much you want to be back here with me,” he says smugly.

“Yeah, I do,” you agree softly. “More than anything.”

Terry hums in contentment, and the sound lulls you further into your drowsy state.

“Goodnight, princess,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you soon.”

“’Night, Terry. Love you,” you reply, managing to end the call and toss your phone onto your bedside table before falling asleep. Deeply inhaling, you breathe in Terry’s scent from your shirt, and that helps you relax.

You hadn’t decided on a ‘When?’ for your move other than ‘Soon,’ or talked about if you would be finding your own place in L.A. or moving into Terry’s home, or his bedroom… But for the first time in a long time, you find that you’re not at all worried about making these kinds of decisions.

You’d figure it out when you got there. It was a fresh start.

---

Thank you to everyone for reading, and to the person who requested the prompt! I've said it before and I'll say it again - I'm happy to take follow-up requests for oneshots for these two, because they make my heart sing!

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #cobra kai #fresh start #happy endings #keep the requests coming #i don't want their story to be over

[toruslvt]

Can't get enough of your writings from last place and also a HUGE Genshin/HonkaiStarRail stan. Quick request, if you don't mind and have time, Could you do a Dan Heng (Either form) or Zhongli with FemReader who is super shy about their body. SFW or NSFW would be great. Again, love your work. Hope to see more through the year :D

— dan heng, zhongli + fem!reader.

mdni. ( nonie pls read the tags ily ) both fluff and smut. dragon boys who don’t get human emotions that well yet wish nothing more than your happiness... cunilingus 😋.

dan heng doesn’t understand why you’re so shy about your body, he only wishes you could see yourself through his eyes. see the perfection in your whole being and why his hands seem unable to be away from you for too long; he’s aware of your lack of self-confidence, and absolutely hates himself for not making you feel loved enough.

there is not a moment when dan heng’s hands aren’t touching you somehow, like a soft, tender rub on your back, a fleeting brush of his hands on your waist as you walk past him, and of course, multiple kisses placed on the patches of skin where your shirt doesn’t cover. utterly obsessed with you is what dan heng is.

intimately is the same, your lover takes his time in kissing you silly until you’re hazy and unable to tell him no when his hands take off your clothes, although, if you wished to remain clothed somehow, he would never deny that to you.

dan heng’s favorite part is letting his lips trace the whole expanse of your body, his pants tightening around his growing erection, painfully hard but wishing to satisfy you first, make you feel more comfortable while muttering sweet nothings against your skin where his lips lay and you shake in return, there’s bites on your thighs, licks and kisses, marks for you to see the following day and perhaps, loving your body a little bit more with the print of his love in your skin.

on the other hand, Zhongli’s love language is through words more than actions, always finding himself cupping your cheeks and muttering how insanely gorgeous you are, how every single detail of your beautiful body drives him utterly insane, leaving you all flustered under his intense amber gaze.

there isn’t a day that passes where Zhongli isn’t eager to explore your body with his mouth and hands, slowly and steadily undoing your clothes under your lust filled eyes. “don’t do that, let me see you” he rasps when you cover yourself, slightly demanding and rough but not enough to scare you, staring at you from between your thighs with a piercing gaze that makes you whimper, letting your hands tangle on his hair while Zhongli’s tongue lick up your pretty pussy. although his favorite days are when you have those outbursts of confidence, still shyly taking off your clothes under his intense staring, it makes his cock pulse watching you so prettily crawl over his body, a smirk always plastered on his face that's half lust, and half adoration.

#HI LOVELY <3 this ask made me so happy ! I'm very glad you enjoy what I write hehe #I'll do my absolute best in trying to keep up the fics coming steadily ! thank you so so much for the request and lovely message 🥰 #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #dan heng smut #dan heng fluff #hsr smut #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #𐔌᭥ᩙ༉

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: guns

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, gun kink, p in v sex, unprotected bc dont be fcking dumb!, hand kink as well kind of, f receiving oral and handjob, blowjob, being fucked by the gun (silencer), mild degradation but also praise, mentions of drug dealing, somehow still soft rafe idk yall im unable to write rafe being anything but a softie

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks

your eyes widen at the glint of black metal in the low lighting, watching the way rafe works the rag over the piece. you control your gasp when you realize what it is that you’re holding, but you can’t help but take a step back in shock. 

you stumble, not realizing how close you were to the hallway table that decorates your home. rafe looks up at the noise, his eyes meeting yours. you can’t tell what emotion crosses his face. he simply sets the handgun down on the coffee table, still partially disassembled.

“rafe-” you begin, but you don’t have the words to finish as he stands up, stalking over to you, his usually comforting figure suddenly imposing when shrouded in the darkness of night.

“baby.” rafe says softly, taking your face in his large hands. “what are you doing awake?” “i-i heard you come in, and i waited for you to come lay down and when you didn’t i came to check on you.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but in the silence of your house, rafe hears you clear as day. he stands still, and you take the moment to apologize, “i’m sorry.”

rafe lets out a deep breath, his face reading the guilt of your apology. “it’s okay.” he presses his lips to your forehead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he holds you to him. it takes you a beat, but you wrap your arms around his waist in a tight embrace.

“come here.” rafe says after a moment, sliding his hand down your back and leading you into the living room instead of hiding in the hallway. you take cautious steps, eyes on the disassembled gun on the table. 

“sit down.” rafe keeps his voice gentle, but it’s a command, not a request. you sit down on the couch, and rafe slides next to you. he gives you a moment to look at the pieces of metal on the table. 

you know why rafe has a gun. he tries to keep that part of his life silent, but you know he helps run the drug scene on the islands of the outer banks. you’ve never been exposed to the violent nature of what he does but you’ve helped him count money and sort packages. he protects you when it comes to the actual sale, you haven’t even met one of his clients, at least not that you know of.

“it’s okay rafe, i knew you had a gun.” you say. you’ve seen him discreetly tuck it into his waistband when you’ve been out, and did not fail to notice the way he keeps it on his bedside table when he thinks it’s too dark for you to see at night.

“but you haven’t really seen it before baby.” rafe picks up what looks to be the frame of the gun, and he turns it over, showing you all the different sides before placing it on your lap. he gives a nod of your head and you pick it up, surprised that the disassembled part is still so heavy.

“should i- should i learn how to…?” you ask, not having the heart to tell him that you want to, because if anything happens to rafe, you want to be able to protect him as well, even though he doesn’t need it.

“if you want to, i’ll teach you.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, taking the metal back out of your hand. he begins to explain the different pieces of the gun and what they do as he reassembles it. your eyes track the movements of his hands, his slender fingers moving each part into place. you bite your lip and press your thighs together, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by rafe.

“are you turned on, princess?” he asks, no judgment in his voice, rather fascination from how you, his sweet girlfriend, can be so turned on by his gun as he sets it back down on the table.

“no!” you squeal, which just gives you away even more. “pants off.” rafe commands, and you know better than to go against him. you stand up off the couch for a millisecond to shove your pants down to your ankles then sit back down, keeping your thighs locked closed together.

“that is not what i meant, and you know it.” rafe commands, placing his hands on your waist and twisting you so you’re facing him. “if you’re not going to be good, i’m just going to have to do this myself.” he guides you backwards so you’re laying your head against the arm of the couch. he takes one ankle and slides it off the edge of the cushion while moving the other one to rest against the back of the couch, spreading you open wide.

“are you still going to deny being turned on?” he asks, eyes on your underwear sticking to your pussy, wet patch clearly visible.

you smartly decide to stay quiet, and rafe gives a little hum of approval at your choice to no longer continue to deny, knowing the amounts of pleasure he can bring you as he pushes his thumb over where he knows your clit is, not wasting any time as he rubs it over the material.

you let out a moan, back arching off the couch as he touches you. all tiredness you previously felt from suddenly waking up in the middle of the night is going.

rafe smiles down at you, seeing his girl so easily and quickly thrown into pleasure just with one of his fingers. he moves faster, watching the wet patch grow even bigger. he drags his thumb down, pressing against the spot until his thumb presses slightly into your hole, the fabric of your underwear still acting as a barrier.

“n-no, let me take them off, please.” you beg, but it doesn’t dissuade from doing exactly what you expected, gripping your underwear with both hands and literally tearing them straight down the center like the material was tissue paper. 

you grumble something about liking that pair, and rafe calms you by pressing a kiss to your knee that’s hooked over the side of the couch. “i’ll buy you another pair.”

he kisses down your thigh, occasionally nipping at your skin until he reaches your cunt, taking a deep inhale of your scent before sticking his tongue out, lapping at your slickness as he gathers it all onto his tongue.

you try your best to keep your hips still, thighs already burning slightly from being spread so wide. you moan rafes name as his tongue slides up away from your hole and over your clit, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive bud before pulling back far too early.

you watch as rafe picks the gun up off the table, making your eyes go wide.

“my sweet princess, turned on by my gun.” he turns it over in his hand, and you don’t fail to notice that he’s left several parts on the table, probably whatever interior mechanism that makes it actually fire so his toying with it remains safe.

“who would have known that the innocent good girl i first starting dating would turn into such a slut?” he grabs the silencer off the table, slotting it onto the end of the gun. your eyes watch in fascination at his movements.

“my own personal whore. you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” rafe questions, running the tip of the silencer against your thigh, slowly dragging it closer to your center.

“you’d even let me fuck you with my gun.” his words make you gasp, coupled by the smooth metal of the silencer coming into contact with your dripping folds. it’s so cold that you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body.

rafe continues to move the silencer against you, partly to tease, partly to get it covered in your juices. “you’re gonna let me, right princess?”

rafe looks to you as you silently nod, worried if you open your mouth you’ll start to beg, beg for him to put the gun inside of you. rafe presses it against your hole, and your eyes widen at how big it feels, like two of his fingers are trying to enter you, but you’re slick enough that when you take a breath to relax, he’s able to push in, breaking the ring of your hole.

“fuck!” you whine, rafe not giving you any time to get used to the sensation as he continues pushing it inside of you, until the entire silencer is buried in your pussy, the barrel of the gun far too large to fit inside.

“just breathe.” rafe mumbles softly, wanting to continue but not wanting to hurt you. you follow his instructions, sliding your eyes closed as you get used to the foreign object.

when rafe can tell your body has calmed down, he pulls the gun out slightly, watching the way your wetness sticks to the metal before pushing it back inside of your body.

you lift your hips slightly to give some reprieve to your thigh muscles, as well as give rafe a better angle as he moves quicker, starting to thrust the gun against you.

his thumb comes back to your clit, now able to touch your bare skin and the pad of his finger feels burning hot compared to the coldness spreading from within you. rafe presses his thumb against you, keeping the intensity constant instead of rubbing. 

“there you go.” rafe smirks, “my good fucking slut.” 

his praise makes you glow, especially as your high starts to build from the way the silencer is pressing inside of you. the dirtiness of the action just pushes you even farther.

“gonna-” you warn, when suddenly rafes thumb is off your clit, the silencer halting all movement, lodged deep inside of you. 

“you ask permission to cum, slut.” rafe tells you, deciding to push you even harder.

“please, let me cum.” you beg, hands fisting the material of the couch.

“no.” rafe simply says, moving the gun again. “no, because my girl isn’t going to cum for some piece of metal. you’re going to wait until i’m done having my fun and then cum on my cock, understood?” “y-yes.” you nod, flopping your head against the couch as it repeatedly presses inside of you, your clit pulsating at the need to release everything you have inside.

“please.” you sob, feeling tears slide down your cheeks, unable to hold back your impending orgasm much longer.

rafe pulls the gun out of your, making your cry out, missing the sensation instantly. “no, no, rafe please.” you beg.

“shush!” he says, delivering a slap to your inner thigh. “if you were patient at all you’d realize i’m going to fuck you now.” you sit up, blinking your eyes open in the low lighting as rafe tugs his shirt over his head. you take the moment to unbutton your pajama top as you watch him stand, unbuttoning and sliding off his jeans and underwear at the same time.

your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, unable to control yourself as you sit up, giving your legs a reprieve from the stretch as you take him into your mouth, sucking the head of rafes cock as your eyes roll back in your head, tasting the saltiness of his precum against your tongue.

“can’t resist, can you?” rafe laughs, knowing how much of an oral fixation you have.

you hum around his cock, bobbing your head but not taking him anywhere near fully into your mouth, enjoying playing with the head of his cock with your tongue.

you kitten lick at his tip repetitively, waiting for rafe to inevitably pull you off to fuck you. he lets you have your fun for a bit longer before tapping the back of your head. 

you pull off with a satisfied smile, laying back and resuming the same position on the couch, spreading your cunt wide to show him that you’ve gotten even wetter from sucking him off.

“my pretty slut.” rafe smiles, kneeling on the couch between your legs. he grabs a throw pillow that was discarded onto the floor at some point, shoving it under your hips to raise your cunt up to the perfect angle to fuck.

rafe rubs his cock against you before jutting his hips forward, sinking fully into you in one fluid motion. you let out a curse, boobs bouncing as he immediately starts up a rhythm.

your cunt clenches tightly around him, rafes moans coming to match your own as he moves within you, feeling your tight walls, remembering that his gun was just where his cock currently is. 

he picks the gun up off the table, still gleaming with your slick. he sticks his tongue out, licking up the side. “you taste so good.” he moans, keeping his free hand on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts.

“want to taste yourself?” he asks, but doesn’t even give you a moment to respond before pressing the silencer against your tongue, mouth already open from moaning.

you wrap your lips around the metal, indeed tasting yourself on it. you suck at the gun, keeping your eyes on rafe as you do.

rafe moans, feeling his cock swell inside of you. he would keep fucking you all night, but he can’t hold himself back any longer as he moves faster, plunging as deep inside of you as he possibly can.

“fuck, please let me cum!” you cry out, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, your fingers not feeling as good as rafes, but doing the job.

“wait for me.” is all rafe can gasp out, watching you immediately take the gun back into your mouth after asking.

rafe lasts a few more hard thrusts before he’s releasing inside of you, and you follow quickly, rubbing yourself to completion as you feel your cunt flooding with cum.

rafe continues to gently thrust throughout your orgasms, both coming down together as he sets the gun back on the table. he collapses forward, his naked body pressing against your bare one.

“god, you really are the most perfect slut.” rafe mumbles, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he slowly pulls out, knowing his cum is going to leak all over the decorative pillow you’re sat on, liking the idea of ruining another piece of furniture from his insatiable need for you.

“love you.” you whisper, tilting your head to the side to give his hair a kiss.

rafe leans up, pressing his lips against yours in a fierce kiss, saying the words for him.

“why don’t you go upstairs and wait for me, sweetheart?” he asks, sitting up and giving you a hand to help you sit as well, your body burning as the exhaustion sets back in. “i’ll be up in a minute, i have to clean my gun again because someone got it all dirty.”

#idk shit about guns #so this very well not make a lot of sense when it comes to like the ~parts~ lol #i think this is the last kinktober fic #i will obviously keep writing kinky stuff #i have a couple requests im still gonna fill #but unfortunately i am just super busy right now lol #i barely had time to finish this fic #i thought today would be less crazy but nope! #kinktober #rafe smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe imagine #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron drabble

[scottland-manor]

shout out to slowjefftheweak, who came into my dms to request spinel grabbing lapis with her giant hand before deactivating. i liked your art prompt jeff, you are not weak in my eyes.

#scottland gallery #doodle #steven universe #spinel su #su lapis #ms paint #art shitpost #art requests #scottland #i keep coming back to it #its the funniest dm ive ever gotten

[mossy-paws]

Slingshot! (PHIGHTING! Mermaid au)

Fish,,, flying fish Shot,,, get it because he can walk on air

next one is boombox!

#Heim #he’s just a silly little guy #I imagine that he likes to collect things and objects like lures and kitchen utensils for accessories! #He’s a very speedy guy #Aaaaaa I’m tired so I can’t really think of much else to say but YEA! #I have a small doodle piece with mermaid boom and skate as a request answer coming up! #So keep an eye out for that :3! #art #artists on tumblr #phighting fanart #digital art #roblox phighting #phighting! #phighting #phighting roblox #phighting art #roblox #phighting! roblox #phighting! art #PHIGHTING! Mermaid au #phighting slingshot #slingshot #slingshot phighting #fan art #artwork #my art #artist on tumblr #illustration #art tag #drawing