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decayedgloria · 9 months

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sundress szn pt. 2

pt. 2 ft. scaramouche, sandrone, pantalone, and childe

Summer’s finally come, so you decide to wear something that fit the occasion- much to your lover’s excitement.

tags: nsfw under cut, public/semi public sex in almost all of these, I got carried away during pantalone’s, harbingers x afab! Reader (minus signora this time bc I genuinely cannot think of smth for her rn but I can promise in the future that she may be in one of these.), slight ooc maybe? mdni.

word count: ~2.2k, I wrote these half asleep on a nine hour flight these are not going to be proofread

Scaramouche

This was a good idea. Totally. Sumeru’s just much, much more humid than Snezhnaya, which was something you were willing to get used to. You were absolutely fine.

How you wished you were right.

Even in the shade of the Grand Bazaar you could still feel the light sheen of sweat begin to form on your skin as you hastily fan yourself, occasionally observing your surroundings for your boyfriend. As a newly-inducted Vahumana student, he was bound to get busy, so it left you with a lot of time on your hands. Too much time. But hey, it got you a new dress so who are you to complain?

It reminded you of when you were both in the Fatui, the Harbinger and his loyal partner, who were too busy to really see each other until he whisked you away to Sumeru. You assumed it would be different this time, but it had dawned on you recently that it would take quite a while to get there (not that it wasn’t deserved, he had a lot to atone for after all.)

But it still disheartened you. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t. You missed his hugs and his presence, no matter how much you annoyed each other you always seemed to find a way to touch each other. And on nights he would be up in the Akademiya studying, leaving you alone in your shared bed, your thoughts wandered to those scarce intimate moments you shared- nights where his chest was pressed against yours, with that stupid smirk on his face as he fucked you silly. Just thinking about those nights made a familiar heat rise in between your legs, making you curse as your cheeks reddened.

Archons, first the heat, and now this? Scaramouche had better hurry, you felt like you were going to be torched alive at this rate.

Thankfully, you did not need to wait long. Looking into the crowd again, your eyes met with a familiar pair of tired purple ones, much to your delight. You hopped off the bench you sat on and beelined your way to the grouchy purple boy, a smile blossoming on your face as you get closer to him. He doesn’t return the same excitement, content to just catch you in his arms like he always does. You don’t seem to mind, though, as you were too preoccupied with burying your face into his chest.

“Scara…” You whined, pouting your lips. “What took you so long? Do you know how hot it is in here? I almost died.” Expecting a smart retort from him, you were thoroughly surprised at the next words that came out of his mouth.

“What on earth are you wearing?”

There was no malice and spite in his voice, just irritated confusion. Which, in turn, confused you, prompting you to release your position against his chest and stare at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you not like it? I got it a while ago.” You hesitantly let go of his embrace, spinning once to let him see the whole dress. It was perfect for a hot day- light and airy, revealing as much skin as possible without spilling everything out. When you turned back to him, his face had gotten redder, but his eyes stayed on you- more specifically, your figure.

“Aw, what’s got you blushing, Scara?” Your teasing tone was met with a glare, and a pathetic attempt to hide his face by looking away.

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

“So you don’t like my dress?”

“That’s not the problem.” Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him again, lowering his head so he could murmur into your ear, “I like it too much. Fix it. Now.”

With that, he dragged you to the nearest concealed spot- behind some crates that barely covered the both of you. When you emerged, all that was left of your dress was the tattered skirt that barely hung on to your body as Scaramouche placed his jacket over your top, that same stupid, hot smirk on his face.

Sandrone

Sandrone tried. Really, she did. But she could not help it in the slightest.

The seventh harbinger has a reputation for being a recluse, cooping herself up in her lab toying with her automatons all day. On the rare occasion she did speak to someone, her tone only seemed to indicate annoyance and malice- she didn’t mind since it drove people away. However, things changed the day you were assigned to work under her; suddenly, she didn’t hate the world that much anymore.

Certainly not when you’re dressed like this.

A quick trip to the ruins of Liyue, both as a break and to gather intel, made you a bit… adventurous, with your outfits to say the least. The entire time you had walked around Qiongji Estuary, Sandrone could not help but linger her stare just a little bit longer than usual. Your outfit consisted of a short dress, loosely clinging around your body, but it made you look so alluring in her eyes. A perpetual blush seemed to occupy her face, which you had innocently chalked up to the heat.

As her automatons roam around in search for whatever she had told them to find, Sandrone busied herself under a makeshift tent inspecting what seemed to be an artifact encased in cor lapis, tinkering with the ore as if it were a toy. You were by her side, head on her shoulder, observing your lover with loving eyes. Your subtle touches combined with your warm breathing had already put her on edge, but she continued nonetheless.

However, the last straw came when you stood up a little to grab something on the other side of Sandrone, aptly placing your bosom right in front of her face. So, forgive her for breaking her composure and pulling you back onto the ground, dirtying your dress as she straddles you eagerly while crashing her lips into your own before you could react.

“You’re so fond of distractions…” She said breathlessly, hands all but dying to get your tits out of your dress for her nimble fingers to play with. You moaned in response, a bit taken aback at her suddeness. Looking up at your blushing, desperate girlfriend, you decided to tease her just a little bit.

“I was just trying to help, Sandrone.” Your tone feigned innocence, which only fueled her frustration. She caught your lips with fervor as one hand pinched your nipple, and the other tugged on your hair, all while grinding down on you.

“Shut up and fuck me, please.”

Pantalone

Pantalone was a man of many talents. One of those talents happens to be spoiling you rotten. Too rotten sometimes. But who were you to complain? The richest man in Teyvat was wrapped around your finger, and you couldn’t help but be a little cheeky and take advantage of that sometimes.

What should’ve been a business trip to Liyue to check the Northland Bank’s activities turned into Pantalone emptying out every boutique in the harbor so you can get a new wardrobe for summer. At one particular store, where there were no other customers besides you and your husband, you had decided to try on some dresses that caught your attention. On one hand, you really did want a few more relaxed additions, but on the other hand, well…

You had emerged from your dressing room not long ago, and yet you were already sat firmly on top of your husband, head in his neck as you try to brace yourself against the waiting room’s couch. Under you, Pantalone only gave you his usual, sly grin as his hands firmly hold you in his lap, keeping you in place as you grind on his ever-growing erection.

“I think this dress looks lovely on you dear.” He whispered, taking in the sight of you writhing on top of him desperately. Chuckling, his hand makes it way all the way to your ass, hiking up the long dress before giving it a smack. You moaned in response, hiding your face in his neck, hands raking over his toned chest.

“You simply look ravishing in it.” He continued his assault on your body, propping you up just a little bit so he had a clear view of your chest, kissing you quickly before delving in between your tits. Archons, he was impatient- he made you impatient. You confess, you did think the dress would get a rise out of him, which was why you picked it first when trying clothes on, but to think he would be this roused by it filled you with a titulating thrill only he was capable of causing.

“Ah- Does the dress make you- ngh… this excited, love?” Despite your teasing words, it was clear that you weren’t the one in control as you rocked your hips to feel even a little bit of relief from the growing ache in between your legs. Pantalone didn’t say anything back, rather he took off his gloves and positioned his fingers over your mouth, commanding you in a husky tone.

“Open up and suck them, darling. I’ll have plenty more for you.”

Childe

“Fuck you mean no?”

“You just aren’t going out like that.” Childe deadpanned, crossing his arms. “It’s a pretty dress for sure though.” The contrasting grin on his freckled face made you want to punch him, though it also illicited some questionable butterflies in your stomach.

Nobody quite knew what you and Childe were. On the surface level, one could assume that you two were just close friends; however, if they took the time to observe how Childe’s touch always lingered for a little too long, or how you stared at him with such bold adoration in your eyes as you smiled at him- it would be quite obvious that there were unspoken feelings for each other somewhere there.

It was quite common for you to visit his office in the Northland Bank like today. You really just wanted to show him the new dress you made for yourself, and figured you could flirt with him a little bit- not that he’d catch the hint. He always did treat you just like a good friend, something that disappointed you a little bit.

Because as it stands, right now, with him towering over you with his arms crossed, a grin on his handsome face- somehow, you’re horny because of this smug bastard. You imagine how good it would be to just smash your lips on his just to shut him up because Archons, is it tempting.

“I’d like to show off what I’ve made for myself,” you huffed at him, pouting. “I’ll go ahead and stroll the streets as I please with or without you then.” You try to turn and leave, expecting him to just laugh and go back to work. However before you could even step towards the door’s direction Childe’s strong hands snaked around your waist, pulling you firmly back.

Without much warning, you fell back into his chest letting out a small yelp. Once you realize the position you were in, you froze- your cheeks heating up an unbearable amount as you try to wriggle away from the (much) stronger man. It only became worse when he placed his lips right on top of your ear, chuckling lowly.

“C’mon… I can’t have all of Liyue see my girl this good.” He remarked lowly, trailing his lips down until they settled on the base of your neck, to which he then placed a gentle kiss. “They might be tempted to steal you away from me, and we can’t have that, can we?.” You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on so fucking much, trying your best to hide it by pulling your legs closer together.

“We aren’t dating though? What do you mean-“ You let out a moan as he started sucking at the same spot, his lips forming a smile as they worked. Your hands flew to his arm on your waist, turning yourself around to meet his gaze. He lifted his head, lips puffy and blue eyes glazed over with lust.

“Everyone in Liyue knows that we want each other. Why not give in?” He pressed his forehead against yours, lips deliciously close to yours as he placed his hands on your waist.

“Only if you want to.” Was your sheepish reply, slightly embarassed to be this close to the man you’ve been covering for months. Was it really this easy? Is it just another one of his pranks? You weren’t sure, but at this point you didn’t care much, especially after he launched his lips straight at you in a fervent kiss. His hands lifted you up, haphazardly swiping away everything on his desk and placing you on it while your fingers tangled in his hair.

Both of you fumble with each other’s clothes, but Childe took extra care in taking the sight of your dress halfway off your body, admiring the view. He suddenly brings his hand up to your chest, flicking your nipple. You moan in both surprise and pleasure, burying your face into his bare shoulder.

“Be as loud as you want girlie. I want everyone here to know who’s finally got you.”

pt 2 is finally out yall i can rest

i wrote these on my way to and from london on the plane and i am sick bro i just wanna sleep (jet lag and chugging redbulls prevent me from catching a break tbh)

hope yall enjoy, this did take a little bit longer to make tho so i apologize for that.

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rainybubbles · 2 months

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141 coming back to you after a eight months mission

Plus size reader :) !

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC)

G H O S T

-Eight long months, every fiber of his being yearned for a hot shower, his eyes struggled to stay open.

- Yet, it wasn't his shabby apartment that the taxi drove to.

-Simon, buried beneath the Ghost's mask, still held a glimmer of humanity within him, a breath hidden beneath Ghost's blood, death, and violence.

-But on that evening, what he ardently desired was them: their gentleness, their scent, their warmth.

-Like a wild animal slowly tamed by food, he returned to them whenever possible.

-Under the pouring rain, he advanced, hastily thanking the driver, the heavy bags weighing on his shoulders.

-He stepped into the still slumbering pastry shop, and the bell rang.

-And there they appeared.

- Covered in flour, with a pastry cap and apron, they were surprised to find someone there at five in the morning.

-"Simon," they murmured.

-The sound of his name was so sweet, so soothing.

- But he wanted more.

-He wanted them to whisper his name over and over again, filled with desire, until they could only utter it, clouded with pleasure.

-His bags fell to the ground, and his arms enveloped them in an instinctive movement.

- Their hair smelled of sugar and butter, the flour staining their black sweater. Simon wanted more.

-"Y/n"

-" I missed you," they whispered.

-He couldn't bring himself to respond, to admit this longing, but they could sense it.

-His arms didn't let them go.

-"Scone?" they asked.

-"No. "

-"Muffin?"

- "No."

-" Croissant?"

- "You," he finally said.

A silence stretched between them.

-"I have to finish my batch, I open in an hour. Do you think you can wait?"

-No, he couldn't. But reason prevailed, and he nodded.

-"I'll help you," he murmured.

-"You barely know how to fold a dough."

-"I can follow orders."

-"Sorry, soldier."

-Their laughter echoed, and a sense of relief washed over him.

- He wanted to hear that sound again and again.

- In silence, they worked. Simon followed every move, ignoring the pain, stretching each muscle. He was ready for anything.

-When the last batch was ready and the saleswoman arrived, Simon breathed a sigh of relief.

-Y/n gave their final instructions and left.

-Alone on the street, they walked together.

-Like a starving beast, Simon jumped at every crumb of affection, grabbing their hand, his fingers brushing theirs through gloves.

-"We need to talk, don't we?" they finally admitted.

-"Yes," he replied.

- "About what happened before your deployment…"

-The kiss. A hurried kiss, without thought.

- Lips so soft, erasing the bad news of his deployment and eight long months of silence.

-"I… "

-'Don't say you regret it," he finally said.

-"No, I don't. I mean it. But I don't want it to destroy us."

-"It won't."

-"I know you avoid people, Simon. Attachment."

-"Yes."

-But not them, he thought

- Since the moment his feet led him to that pastry shop. Simon knew he was doomed.

- A stupid cake for Soap's nephew, and he found himself charmed by a baker making incredible scones.

-Simon had become a regular there, a man of habit enjoying the good things, he told himself.

- It was close, he said.

-Close to his shabby apartment, to his gym.

-Just a daily stop for coffee and scones, he reasoned.

- But every morning, his eager eyes searched for their silhouette.

-Their rolls, their belly, their thighs, that smile.

- Every crumb he could get, he took.

-They eventually noticed him.

-A mountain of muscles, hidden by a mask, softened by scones, it wasn't the most discreet.

-They greeted him.

-Always the first customer at dawn.

-In reality, Simon came so early out of military habit but also to avoid the saleswoman.

-Simon desired the baker, not the small, slim saleswoman.

-Slowly, they spoke to him, and everything fell into place.

- They had become his anchor, an anchor in reality.

- A tough mission, and he came to them silently, without needing to place an order, without having to face the crowd, slipping to the back and watching them work.

-No questions, just comfort.

-The smell of sugar, flour, and eggs permeated his clothes in the most exquisite way.

-And now he dreamed of a life where this scent would be constant.

-"I don't want us to drift apart," they said.

-"We won't," he assured them.

-"So, what do we do, Simon?"

-"Kiss me."

-It was a prayer, a barely audible order, a cry for help.

-Slowly his mask fell.

- Their eyes met, hesitant but filled with desire.

-And they kissed him.

- In that dark street, under the pouring rain.

-"Again," he murmured.

-"We have to go back," they said.

- "I don't care about going back," he replied.

- "Simon, you don't want to spend your leave sick."

-"If I stay with you, I do."

-"Idiot."

- "For you."

-Their laughter burst out, and Simon kissed them again to capture it.

-Slowly, they finally arrived at their place.

-Their dog welcomed them, barking happily at Simon. And after eight long months, Simon could finally breathe.

-"I'm home," he murmured.

- "We were waiting for you," they replied.

-Nothing surpassed this feeling, he thought as he kissed them again.

-Simon was a man, and like any man, he had finally found his long-desired home in their arms.

__________

P R I C E

-In an emotionally charged atmosphere, Price let the water flow slowly, carrying away the remnants of blood under his nails.

-After eight long months, he felt like a ship drifting without a course, without a real destination.

-At least that's what he claimed to anyone who would listen, but the ring hanging under his uniform whispered different truths to him.

-Staring at his own reflection, Price read the inscription inside the ring, a name he hadn't uttered in years.

- Like enchanted by a spell whose charm he feared, he hesitated to whisper it again.

-Yet, his heart demanded it.

-He knew it was the longing that drove him.

-Without those eight months, he wouldn't be here, longing desperately to have them back in his arms.

-(It was false; since the divorce was signed, he dreamt of them.)

-Since the day their marriage ended, he had wanted to throw himself at their feet and beg them to come back.

- He desired their warmth, their ridiculous work stories, their cooking, their scent, their fingers, their kisses.

-They were the oasis in the desert of his life, and through negligence, he had let them evaporate.

- It all dated back to before his promotion to captain.

- Back then, he was just a young lieutenant full of ambition, willing to sacrifice anything to obtain that coveted title.

-But the long hours at the office had gradually poisoned his time with them, an absence they had signaled to him, one he had ignored, one he had maintained until everything exploded like a grenade.

-Now, he stood there, on the minefield of his emotional life with a ring they had probably forgotten, longing to hear them say yes once again.

-As he dried himself off, Price settled into his office.

-He told himself it was just simple nostalgia, but the bitter taste of tobacco wasn't enough to distract him, remembering how much they hated that smell. He extinguished his cigar.

-To take his mind off things, he decided to go to the nearest bookstore. A good book would be welcome, he thought.

-"John?"

-That voice, which had haunted him for three years and eight long months of divorce.

-"Y/N."

-It had been so long.

-Too long, he thought, seeing them so different.

- He admired their new haircut, their new clothes. What a lucky man he had been.

-"Yes. Still teaching?"

-"Yes. And you, did you manage to become a captain?"

-"Yes."

-The silence stretched, their eyes avoiding his.

-"But it wasn't worth it," he admitted.

-"Too much work?"

-"Not enough of you"

-"John," they interrupted.

-"I'm not trying to get us back together, far from it. I know it won't happen, but I wanted to be honest with you. I think this divorce has been the biggest failure of my life, and you deserved better than me."

-Hesitantly, they opened their mouth, a mouth he had kissed so many times, one that had shared all their troubles, all their doubts.

-"Thank you, John. But I'm also to blame. I should have told you everything that was going on in my head, everything that wasn't right."

-"You couldn't, when all I listened to were orders."

-"Maybe…"

-"Good person, wrong time, it seems."

-"Nothing prevents us from correcting the timing, right?"

-John raised an eyebrow.

-"It doesn't mean we have to start all over, but… you've been a pillar in my life, John. I missed you. Whether as friends or more, it doesn't matter."

-"Thank you, love," John murmured.

-They approached him, and during this long absence, John could finally feel human warmth again.

-To just be John again, not Captain Price.

-Their hands wrapped around each other.

-They both knew it wouldn't be purely platonic, but like a suspended promise, for now, they would stick to it, hoping that one day the rings would find their respective places again.

-Theirs from their drawer to their finger, and his from his neck to his hand.

-"I missed you."

-"You too. Tell me what I've missed."

-And John could only smile.

-If these eight months of hell, these three years of desert led him back to them, then it was worth it, he decided.

- So when he packed for his next return, the soldiers watched him curiously because for once the captain had a home where he really wanted to be.

_________

S O A P

-Immersed in an ocean of turmoil, Soap returned after eight months of absence, longing to celebrate his return with his family.

-His thoughts, drowned in alcohol and his mother's reprimands, were rocked by the cheery laughter of his nephews and nieces.

-Between the urge to scream and the desire to simply savor their presence, he oscillated.

-When the festivities finally came to an end, he could finally breathe.

-Eight months.

- Alone in his flat, memories flooded in, evoking strategies, bombs, deafening tumult, and lingering smells.

-Everything was an attempt at distraction; the television, the rain, a run, a cup of tea, messages on his mobile.

-He longed for something, even if he didn't know exactly what.

-But it was missing, creeping under his skin little by little, scratching at the door of his mind.

-"Again, really?'

-His eyes fell on his neighbour.

-The same one who had endured his screams at three in the morning, his hurried departures on missions, his heavy suitcases dragged at seven in the morning.

- And now, at four o'clock, they stood before him, a mischievous gleam in their eyes, the result of an incident involving dumbbells in his hands.

-"Sorry.", he apologized.

-"I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

-"On purpose…? "He raised an eyebrow.

-"So that we see each other. You know, like in those cliché romances where the noisy neighbour ends up seducin' the complainin' neighbour."

-Incredulous, he couldn't help but laugh.

-"Ye wouldn't need that."

-A teasing smile stretched across his neighbour's lips.

-"I know. But you seem to need it. Not an adventure, but a distraction."

-They referred to the dumbbells.

-"Aye."

-"I make cookies." they said.

-"At 4 a.m.?"

-"I know how to keep myself busy in silence."

-"…"

-"Interested?" they asked.

-The latent feeling under Soap's skin resurfaced.

-He nodded and followed them. And then he realized.

-The warm atmosphere, the decor, the unstacked dishes, the soft carpets.

-That's what he had missed, a heaven of peace.

-"They won't be the best cookies in the world, but they'll do."

-"Ah'm good at it." he said.

-"Pastry chef?"

-"Military."

-"Hm, that explains a lot. "They gave him a complicit look.

-"Like what?" Soap asked.

-"This horrible haircut."

Laughter erupted in the kitchen.

-"Ma haircut is incredible."

-"For a 6-year-old."

-"Ah look handsome with it."

-"Even without it."they said.

-"Good at flirtin'?"he asked.

-"With the right person, yes."

-Soap smiled.

-"Ye would be bonnie with a mohawk."

-"No thanks. But, well, I understand the muscles and the irregular movements now."

-"Aye, Ah don't choose my hours."

-Too bad, you'd think criminals can't be punctual, huh? "they joked.

-He smiled.

-"Exactly."

-Hands in the dough, Soap couldn't help but let his gaze drift over his neighbour's curves.

-He admitted that sometimes his door slammed a little louder in the hope of catching a glimpse of them, like a good luck charm before a mission.

-Curves he longed to explore, letting the eight long months fade from his memory to be replaced by love for them.

-"Ah should hae made more noise if it means havin' cookies."

-His neighbour smiled.

-"Maybe. I was worried about this silence, you know."

Soap felt touched by their concern.

-"Ah'm sorry."

-"Don't apologize, you didn't decide on that. It's just… maybe I could give you my number? If you ever have plants or stuff like that, I'll take care of them."

-"Okay." he acquiesced.

-He took the paper feverishly, keeping it as a precious treasure, and continued cooking.

-At the end of that day, returning home, Soap could finally close his eyes.

-The creeping feeling had come to an end.

-That longing, that emptiness, it was them, the sound of a life together.

-He brushed the paper, a smile on his lips.

-Getting up, he decided to drop a dumbbell loudly.

- A noise at his door rang out, and he smiled. Nothing was worth his neighbour.

-So slowly he opened the door, and dinner followed to apologize.

-Then another to repay.

-And slowly, they erased from his mind the eight long months that had haunted him.

G A Z

-After eight long months of absence, Gaz finally found a moment of respite in his humble accommodation on the base.

-The deafening noises of the base's incessant activity, the hurried faces, the soldiers' rushed departures, everything seemed to dissolve into a chaos filling his ears.

-Everything seemed to fade away as soon as he could cross the threshold of his room.

-Here, in this haven of tranquility, he could finally silence the external turmoil.

-His pulse slightly quickened as he reached for his phone, his fingers instinctively finding his favorite contact: them.

- He felt this visceral need to reassure them, to feel their presence through the voice that was so dear to him.

-In this suspended moment, he longed to hear nothing but their soothing breath, to lose himself in their tender words.

-His ears buzzed, every beep deafening his eardrums and…

-"Hello?"

-"Y/N," he murmured, relieved and tender.

-The echo of their voice provided him with a welcome comfort, a balm for his weary soul.

-"Kyle. Back among us?"

-"Yes, I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you."

-"No, I'm on break. I have a shift tonight."

-A silence stretched.

-"Is everything alright?"

-Kyle hesitated before speaking.

-Is everything alright? The blood, the bruises, the cries, the deaths… Everything seemed to still be on his skin, vivid in his mind.

-"I don't know," he admitted.

-"You didn't break an arm, did you?"

-Kyle smiled at the memory.

-After a rough mission he had rushed to his flat ignoring the pain in his arm and the medics.

-Yet he ended up to E.R days later with a blue arm and broken bone.

-Y/n was one of the nurse who was in charge of him and his cast, they kept contact.

-"No, I don't know how I managed to cope without hearing from you."

-"Charming," they laughed at his attempt at flirting.

-"Maybe."

-"More seriously?"

-"Tired," he admitted.

-"I would tell you to sleep, but I imagine you don't want to."

-"I can't."

-Not when he knew the nightmares awaiting him.

-"…I finish at 1am, if ever. I'm not implying anything, I know your base is super far, but I know that company can help."

-"Hmm, I don't know, will there be food?"

-"My company isn't enough for you, Kyle?" they joked.

-"I fear not."

-"Damn," they exclaimed, laughing.

-Ah, there it was.

-A tender smile stretched across Gaz's lips.

- In this exchange, he found comfort, a precious connection.

-His body relaxed slightly.

-"I missed you," they confessed.

-"You too."

-"You know, I bought those awful biscuits you talked about so much, hoping you'd come eat them at my place."

-"I'll take it as a declaration at this rate."

-"Shut up, I know you'd never buy them because 'no time'."

-"I like speed."

-"Even in bed?"

-A mischievous smile formed on his lips.

-"That's for you to find out."

-"You always say that."

-"I mean it."

-"About?"

-"Us."

-"Kyle…"

-"I know, after eight months of absence, it might just be the longing speaking, but… the only thing I wanted was you. Coming back to you, holding you in my arms, making you laugh one last time. And… staying friends… it's worse."

-"Worse than eight months without me?" -"Yes."

-"You're horrible for doing this."

-"I know."

-"At a distance, over the phone. I can't… I can't guess anything."

-"I guess I'm a coward."

-"Shut up, I… I swear I'm going to hit you and then kiss you."

-"Kiss me?"

-"Of course, do you really think I answer all your calls at any time out of friendship?"

-"Y/N…"

-"Last time there was an eight-hour time difference."

-"You told me…"

-"That there were only two, yes, because… I didn't want you to worry. You're a stubborn idiot always thinking of others, so I wanted to be selfish for once that you are."

-"I am. I want you, Y/n."

-"Then come get me."

-Kyle smiled and hung up.

- In his car, stress, fear, adrenaline surged. But for once, the enemy wasn't to be fought.

-Once in front of the hospital, hours of driving later, he stood at the entrance and saw them come out.

-Their name spoken from their lips, and he embraced them.

-"Never again," they whispered.

-"I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

-"I swear I'll kick Price's ass if he does that again."

-"I'll help you."

-"Promise?"

-"Promise."

-And he kissed them.

-Suddenly the eight long months evaporated on Y/n's couch, his fingers sliding through their hair, and his lips on theirs.

-The silence returned and Kyle could finally breathe.

If you want more : my masterlist

#ghost simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x plus size reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

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hidden-ember · 3 months

Text

simon says

🗯 pairing: captain john price x fem!reader | simon ghost riley x fem!reader

🗯 tags: nsfw - mdni, cucking, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected pinv, established relationship, praise, ooc as fuck i'm sure

a/n: this one was incredibly self indulgent, so i got a little carried away with it. i fully intend to do a pt. 2 if you all want that!

You couldn’t believe the situation you found yourself in: your husband of several years just confessed to you he had always had a fantasy of watching you with another man. You expressed that you weren’t opposed to the idea; as long as it was something he truly wanted then you’d do your best to please him.

When he threw out some names of people you may be interested in he never expected to see a spark of desire in your eyes as he mentioned his former boss.

“Oh really?” Ghost asked with a raise of his eyebrow, his tone laced with amusement.

“Y-yeah,” you said shyly, not wanting to go into detail about how attractive you found Captain Price.

The older man led Simon in a specialized task force for a few years, both having since moved on to different military ventures and then retirement.

Price had always caught your eye at any get-together he and the rest of Ghost’s former team would attend, and you had never imagined revealing this attraction to your husband. Until now.

Any time he would tower over you while making small talk, cerulean eyes subtly trailing down to your lips and chest before meeting your gaze you had to fight to keep your face from flushing.

Your dreams the nights after these gatherings would be filled with visions of the Captain buried between your legs, his facial hair prickling your skin as he worked you with his mouth until your legs were trembling.

Ghost cleared his throat, sensing you were deep in thought. “I’ll text him now?”

Once you gave him the go ahead he reached for his phone. His fingers trembled slightly as he tapped out a message, inviting Price over Friday evening for some ‘fun’.

He tossed his phone down and leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to enjoy watching you with him.”

“I hope so, Simon, because I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” you responded, pulling back to look at him. You wanted him to know even though you were indulging him in this fantasy, you would never imagine being unfaithful to him without his knowledge and without him being involved.

Ghost met your gaze, his eyes filled with appreciation and desire for you. “I know, love.”

You left it at that, both carrying on with the rest of your week without mentioning it again until shortly before Price’s arrival.

“You’re still okay with this, yeah?” Ghost wrapped his arms around you from behind as you did your makeup in the mirror.

“More than okay,” you reassured him as he tugged at your earlobe with his teeth.

“Easy now,” he chuckled, a hint of warning in his tone.

That was the best thing about this arrangement. You had always been attracted to Price and were eager to explore that, but you were most looking forward to what came after.

You knew that once he watched Price fuck you, Ghost would be ravenous. You had a long night ahead of him proving to you that while he may allow another man to touch you, they’d never be able to touch you better than he could.

“I don’t know what to wear.” Your face grew hot as you began wondering what Price would think when he saw you again.

“Anything,” Ghost replied firmly. “You look great in anything.”

“Well I have that dress from-,” you paused when he began shaking his head.

“That won’t be necessary,” he murmured against your neck, trailing soft kisses down it as his hands settled on your stomach. “You’ll be waiting for us in the bedroom, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whispered, realization dawning on you that he was suggesting you wear lingerie.

"Hmmm. Price seems like the type to enjoy white." You thought out loud, a lace baby doll you had in your dresser coming to mind. "Something about corrupting a good girl."

“S’that what you are?” Ghost smirked while making eye contact with you in the mirror.

You laughed away his teasing, knowing he was only attempting to get you riled up. “Oh, please. If anyone’s corrupted me it’s you, but let me have my fun.”

"That's perfect," he agreed, his eyes roaming over the reflection of your body, envisioning the delicate white lace. "He's going to love seeing you like that." He leaned in close and whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky, “And so will I.”

His stiffening cock was now pressing firmly into the small of your back and you grinned at him in the mirror. “I can see you’re very excited about this.”

Ghost's eyes darted downward before meeting yours again, a mix of embarrassment and desire flushing his cheeks. "Not every day my wife offers up herself and her body for another man," he confessed with a shrug that did little to hide his arousal.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love.” You squeezed his hands reassuringly. “It’s hot you’re so into this.”

"Thank you," Ghost whispered as he wrapped his arms around you tighter. "I just want to make sure everything is perfect for Price tonight. He deserves it."

“Yeah? Deserves to fuck your wife?” You teased, knowing it would only make the hardness poking into your back ache even more.

Ghost chuckled darkly at your words. "Yeah, he does," he growled while pressing his hips forward slightly into you with a noticeable amount of possession in his movement. "And I plan to enjoy every filthy second of it."

You spun around to face him, and he immediately stepped forward, pushing you into the edge of the vanity. Ghost groaned as he felt your hands slip beneath his shirt to stroke his stomach, a thick layer of fat having formed over his abs since retirement that drove you crazy in all the right ways.

"Don't tease me like that," he warned when your fingers moved higher up his chest.

"Fine,” you conceded with a soft sigh, sliding out from under his shirt. “I’ll keep my hands to myself until he arrives.”

"That’s a good girl," he praised, loving how aroused you were getting. He pulled back slightly but kept his hands on your waist. "Now, why don't you get dressed and wait for us on the bed, hmm?”

As you moved to put on the white lace number and matching silk thong you knew both men would adore you in, Ghost left for the living room, leaving your bedroom door slightly ajar. You bit down on your lip nervously when you heard the doorbell buzz not even a few minutes later.

Ghost’s heart raced with anticipation as he approached the front door and saw Price’s silhouette against the dim street light shining through the glass. He knew you were waiting for them in the bedroom, dressed in the lingerie that he had helped pick out and he had to make an effort to appear nonchalant as he opened the door for Price.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart rate quickening as you heard the Captain’s commanding voice fill your home. Their conversation was muffled, but the distinct sound of ice and alcohol being poured made you smirk to yourself.

The pair catching up over a drink like former colleagues while you were waiting in the bedroom like a piece of meat to be devoured only added to your arousal, the wetness gathering between your legs becoming more prominent the longer they left you alone. Ghost seemed to be carrying most of the conversation for once, probably out of sheer excitement.

Price appeared to be enjoying himself as well, laughing at something Ghost said before they made their way to the bedroom together.

As they entered the room your eyes darted between your husband and his friend, unsure who to look at. The click of the door closing echoed through your mind as you pictured what was about to happen.

Ghost took a step towards you, his eyes fixed on your body as he admired the sexy lingerie that clung to your curves. He couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness as he turned to look at Price, who was now standing close behind him.

He swallowed hard, the bob of his Adam's apple betraying his nervousness, before stepping to the side and sitting in the armchair at the corner of your room.

Price looked you up and down slowly, taking in every inch of your exposed body. His eyes lingered on your full breasts before traveling back up to meet yours.

"You look bloody incredible, Mrs. Riley," he smirked, knowing it would drive Ghost mad to hear you being referred to with his last name. You were his after all and Price would do well to remember that. You glanced at Simon briefly, surprised to see his face beaming with pride rather than annoyance as he watched Price approach you.

“Thank you, John,” you blushed, having to crane your neck to look at him the closer he got to the bed. The lamp in the corner illuminated his face as he stood before you and you noticed even more gray hair dusting his temples and beard than the last time you saw him.

He wasted no time before kneeling down, his calloused hands running up and down your thighs lightly before stopping at your knees. You were sure your face was completely bright red now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Oh, sweet thing,” Price let out a breath as he spread your legs. “You’re soaked already.”

He placed a kiss to your core through your panties, holding eye contact with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Ghost sat up a little straighter in his seat at the sight.

The silk fabric clung to your folds now, saturated with your arousal. You felt yourself throbbing now, cunt desperate for attention. Many nights you had dreamed of being in this exact position, his handsome face staring up at you from between your legs.

Disappointment must have been evident on your face as Price pulled back and shifted on his feet, moving to lean over you. Your pouting drew a raspy chuckle out of your husband.

“Needy girl you have, Simon,” Price observed with a small smile, turning to look at him. He gave a single nod in response, eager for Price to continue.

With gentle hands he brushed your hair behind your shoulders as his gaze roamed your chest, his hum of satisfaction reverberating through the room. He unfastened the clasp on the front of the baby doll, letting it fall off of you and onto the bed.

Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit your skin. Price’s hands found their way to your breasts immediately, beginning to roll his thumbs over your nipples in tight circles. He studied your face closely as it contorted in pleasure, admired the way your breath caught in your throat audibly at the sensation.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you,” Price whispered into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps on your skin. His lips brushed against your earlobe and your eyes widened, finding Ghost’s. He watched you with a hunger and possessiveness you had never seen from him before, clearly having heard what the other man said to you.

You gasped in surprise when Price’s lips latched onto your nipple, too distracted by Simon to realize he had wandered lower once more. You moaned softly as his tongue circled the hardened bud, back arching as he squeezed your other breast roughly.

Ghost watched attentively from his corner seat, a mix of arousal and pride coursing through him. He could tell by the way that you were responding that Price was taking good care of you, making sure you were enjoying every moment.

Price’s mouth left your tit and he captured your lips in a kiss. It felt strange at first but you softened, losing yourself to the feeling of him. The kiss deepend as Price’s tongue slid past your lips, tasting you for the first time. His hands wandered down your body, teasingly grazing the hem of your panties before finally slipping beneath to run along your slick folds.

“All this for me, hm?” Price murmured against your lips.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. A half truth. It was for him, yes. But it was just as much for Simon, who was now palming himself through his jeans.

Seeing how excited you were already, he didn’t hesitate to part your folds, circling your entrance once before pumping two fingers inside of you. You let out an exasperated gasp and squirmed as he did.

“Oh, c’mon, angel. I know you can take it.” He winked at you before continuing. “This is nothing compared to your husband’s cock,” he said playfully before curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting faster now.

"That's a good girl," he praised you as he felt your relax around his fingers, rewarding you by pressing circles into your swollen clit in a steady rhythm with his thumb.

Ghost could tell by the sounds you were making that you were getting close already, the thought only serving to fuel his arousal. His chest tightened as he watched Price work you open. You faintly made out the sound of a zipper as your senses started to be overloaded, vision blurry and ears ringing.

“Fuck, John. I’m close,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his free one to steady yourself as your climax rapidly approached. His muscles tensed under your grip; he was every bit as strong as you had imagined.

Price tutted at you, shaking his head. “Ask your husband for permission, dear.”

“Simon,” you pleaded. “Simon, please, I-” your breath was coming in ragged gasps, leaving you incapable of forming a full sentence.

“Let go, love,” you heard him from the corner of the room. The way his voice strained told you that he was stroking his cock as he listened to you begging for release. Begging him despite another man being the one to drive you to orgasm.

Price grabbed you by the chin, angling it upwards and pressing his lips to yours, stifling your cries of pleasure as you came undone. As if he could keep your release all to himself like this, swallowing it down so Ghost couldn’t have it.

Ghost watched intently as Price took control of the situation, his body tense with anticipation for what was about to happen. He could feel his own climax building inside him, mirroring your pleasure as he listened to your cries of ecstasy being muffled by the other man’s kiss.

As Price continued to milk your orgasm, he leaned down and whispered into your ear, this time low enough that Ghost couldn’t hear, “You were never quite this pretty all the times I’ve imagined you coming.”

He pulled away slowly, leaving you panting and covered in sweat. His eyes met Ghost’s once more before he finally released you from his grasp. You sat at the edge of the bed, legs trembling as you tried to catch your breath. He pulled your panties off, eyes glued to your glistening cunt.

“Lie back for me, sweetheart,” John ordered as he moved for his zipper, desperate to free his throbbing cock. You did as he said, gaze locked on his crotch as he tugged down his pants and boxers.

As his cock sprang free, you hated the way you instantly noticed it wasn’t as big as Ghost’s. It wasn’t small by any means, maybe even a bit longer, but not as thick. You had gotten so used to feeling stuffed full by Ghost that now a part of you was anxious to have another man for the first time in years. What if you were spoiled? What if your husband had ruined you for all other cocks?

You glanced in his direction, noting the small smirk tugging at his lips and you knew he was aware of exactly what was on your mind. Smug bastard, you thought to yourself before returning your attention to Price, opening your legs wider for him.

Ghost’s expression remained impassive as he watched Price line himself up and penetrate you. His hand twitched unconsciously, the urge to reach out and claim what was rightfully his burning within him. But he held back, remaining silent and still, his hand freezing on his cock.

You moaned as Price buried himself to the hilt, having quickly forgotten any anxiety you were feeling a moment before. He let you adjust to his length before pulling out completely and slamming his hips forward, causing you to yelp. Ghost began pumping himself again as he saw how rough his friend was with you, how well you were taking him.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he pounded into you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

His arms fell to either side of your head as he leaned in to nibble at your neck. From this angle his gut pushed into your stomach - the only distinction between the sensation of his and your husband’s was John’s more pronounced happy trail.

He reached down between the two of you and began roughly rubbing at your sensitive clit again. His tempo didn't falter and he was hitting your g-spot with each stroke, white-hot pleasure clouding your mind and turning you into a mumbling mess beneath him.

“Yeah? Like that?” Price cooed at you and your toes curled. He kept up his pace, relentlessly pummeling you.

“Yes. God, yes,” you whined. The sounds of skin on skin and moaning filled the room from all three of you now.

Your walls contracted around Price and your back arched, pressing your bodies flush together as you surrendered yourself to him completely.

“Come for me,” he encouraged with a hint of ownership. Not of you, but of this orgasm. The last one may have been for Ghost, but this one would be for him.

He thrust into you more deliberately now, bottoming out each time. You let out a strangled moan as you climaxed again. Ghost came with you, spurting into his hand as he squeezed his cock tightly, his own sounds of pleasure drowned out by yours.

You whimpered as John suddenly pulled out of you and moved to stand at the edge of the bed. “C’mere,” he croaked, quickly sitting you up and bringing your head down towards his cock.

“You didn’t think I’d let anyone else finish inside that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?” Ghost murmured from the corner, voice hoarse as he was spent from his own release.

You shifted your gaze to Simon before parting your lips for Price. ��Mm, see how you taste on another man’s cock?” He taunted as you wrapped your mouth around the head.

Though your eyes stayed glued to Ghost’s, you attempted a nod in response. Tears pricked your eyes as you slowly took more of his shaft into your mouth.

“Simon says you’re good with your mouth. I intend to take full advantage of that,” he said, grunting as he pushed himself deep into your throat, your eyes returning to him.

As you moaned around his cock he smirked down at you. "Oh, you like it rough, do you?" He quickly lost control, hips meeting your face as he thrust in rhythm with your mouth.

You had mixture of saliva and pre-cum running down your chin now, mascara staining your cheeks. Ghost had you in a similar state countless times before while fucking your face, but seeing you like this wrapped around someone else's cock was turning him on in an entirely new way.

In an attempt to prolong his release, Price tangled his fingers into your hair, holding you in place at the base of his cock. When you gagged he loosened his grip, allowing you to back off a bit before you started bobbing your head on his length again. "That feels incredible," he said, admiring the way you milked his cock.

His balls were already tight, and you pushed him over the edge once you began to caress them with feather-light touches. He threw his head back with a low groan, frame tensing as he shot thick ropes of cum down your throat. His hips jerked forward as you hollowed out your cheeks. You swallowed most of his spend and pulled off of his cock with a satisfied moan.

He brushed the hair away from your face, his chest heaving as he looked down at you. His thumb trailed over your bottom lip, collecting the bit of cum that had dribbled out. He held it there for you, waiting for you to clean it off. You took it into your mouth, taking your time cleaning him, savoring the taste as you swirling your tongue around his finger. He pulled it out with a loud pop once he caught his breath.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, referring to your performance just as much as your disheveled appearance.

“That she is,” Ghost said, rising from his seat, looking at you with a predatory gaze. He tucked his still semi-hard cock into his pants and your stomach tightened at the sight.

Price zipped himself up as well and turned to Ghost. You were surprised he wouldn’t be staying, but it was clear the two men had discussed all the details beforehand.

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t want anyone here for the depraved things I’m gonna do to you,” Ghost threatened in a low tone that had you clenching around nothing. Price let out a hearty laugh before turning back to you.

“Thank you for being so good for me,” he murmured and cupped your face in his hands. When Ghost cleared his throat behind him, he corrected himself with a sheepish grin. “Good for us.”

He gave you a genuine smile and a soft kiss on the forehead before leaving for the front door with Ghost. They exchanged goodbyes and the last you heard from Price as you walked to the doorway was, “Don’t be a stranger now, Simon.”

Shortly after you heard the door swing shut your husband was on you. “Alright, back to bed with you,” Simon grinned, smacking your ass playfully. You giggled, walking backwards, eyes never leaving him as he stripped.

“You’re mine,” he reminded you with a growl before his lips crashed into yours, the two of you falling onto the bed.

#cod smut #price x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price smut #captain price smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #*mine

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almond-tofuuu · 2 months

Note

Hi, I saw you were taking requests and I was wondering if you could write something like Zayne waking up from a nightmare and MC comforting him?

Absolutely adored your sleep-aid btw!!!!

Hi hi! 🤗 Thank you for the request, hopefully you enjoy this!

And I'm glad you happy you enjoyed the sleep aid!!!

Heart's refuge

Zayne x reader

Warnings: slight description of violence/injuries, Zayne has a nightmare, slight angst, Zayne is vulnerable (pls sir stop bottling everything up) comfort, possible ooc Zayne? ig 🤷🏻‍♀️ reader comforts him, established relationship

lmk if I missed anything ☺️

It was happening again.

Zayne was frozen in place, his legs refusing to move, his body no longer under his control. He was forced to watch, powerless to help as the group of wanderers closed in around you. Forced to hear every scream of agony, every desperate plea for help, forced to witness the gruesome sight of your bloodied body being brutally tossed to the floor like a discarded doll. Only then did his legs begin to work again, allowing him to rush to your side, just in time to watch the life flicker out of your eyes, feel your body turn as cold as the ice that ran through his veins and fall limp in his arms. Zayne cradled you in his arms, bloodied hands clutching the fabric of your shirt, tears falling from his eyes as he whispered apologies over and over again.

"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough"

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you"

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry"

Groaning softly, you blink open your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim lighting of Zayne's bedroom. As your sleep-addled brain slowly wakes up, you become acutely aware of the biting cold that's settled into the room, a thin layer of frost coating the blankets. A sudden whimper brings your attention to Zayne, his body lying beside yours is dusted with ice crystals, chest rising and falling rapidly, face contorted as though he's in pain. Although the sight is heartbreaking, this isn't the first time you've seen him like this, you came to learn quite early on in your relationship with the stoic doctor that he was often plagued by nightmares, horrifying images that would interrupt the few precious hours of sleep he was able to squeeze into his busy schedule.

Carefully, you grab his arm, shaking him slightly in an attempt to wake him up from whatever nightmare he was trapped in, calling his name softly at first, voice getting louder when he still didn't respond. "Zayne.... Zayne wake up!..... Zayne it's just a dream, you need to wake up sweetheart!"

Zayne bolts up from the bed, hand clutching at his chest as he gasps for air, panting wildly as he struggles to get enough oxygen into his lungs, eyes searching frantically around the room before landing on you. He stares at you for a moment, his brain, still half-asleep, attempting to separate dream from reality.

"It's okay.... It was just a dream... You're safe now" you whisper soothingly, hands gently cradling his face, brushing away the hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. "Try to match my breathing, okay?.... In......." You take a deep breath in, smiling softly when you see his chest rise more steadily, copying you. "And out.........In.........And out, good job baby" you continue to simply breathe with him, whispering encouragement until his breathing finally returns to normal, his eyes no longer glazed over as he scans your body and face, as if he's searching for something, before you feel his body relax.

"There you go, that's better. Let me go get you some water-" as you make a move to stand, your pulled back by your hand, body falling into Zayne's chest as two strong arms wrap tightly around you, holding you against him so securely, as if he's afraid you'll slip through his fingers like smoke.

"Don't go.....just stay here.... Please" Zayne's voice, though muffled by his head buried in your neck, comes out as nothing more than a broken plea, the sound so vulnerable it makes your heart hurt. Just what kind of darkness was he forced to endure to shake him up this badly? Zayne was notorious for his self control, never showing weakness even to you, always preferring to take care of his problems quietly by himself. So to see him now, so raw and vulnerable in your arms, clinging to you as if it's you're the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely, you realised that whatever he saw in his dreams must've been harrowing.

Settling into his embrace, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back whilst the other played with the soft hair at the base of his neck, feeling him sigh in content at your gentle touch. You couldn't help the fond smile that spread across your face, it still amazed you how truly adorable Zayne could be sometimes, often reminding you of a grumpy cat.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You question softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between you both. "You don't have to if you don't want, but I'm here for you Zayne.... You don't have to deal with everything on your own"

For a while he remains quiet, and you accept that this is yet another thing he's going to keep to himself, but after letting out a heavy sigh, you hear his murmured response.

"I don't want to talk about what I saw.... I don't want to relive it" He raises his head, piercing green eyes meeting your own, his voice raw with a vulnerability you've never heard from him before. "I need you to promise me you'll be more careful, especially when dealing with wanderers. You're always so reckless with your life and as much as I want to, I can't always be there to protect you."

Zayne's hold on you tightens, face moving closer to rest his forehead against your own, an action so simple yet it conveys a depth of emotion that words can't. His breath fans over your face as he whispers softly, voice breaking slightly as he fights to control the intensity of emotions building up within him. "Please.....I can't bear to lose you....I'm not strong enough"

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x reader #lads zayne

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temis-de-leon · 2 months

Text

Peaceful waters

Characters: Levi x gn!MC

Masterlist

CW: implied depression, emotional numbness, MC's not having the best of times, another minuscule nod at Lesson 16 because I'd never be able to forget about it

He may be ooc, but i couldn't stop thinking about this

There was something about the color blue. Something so strong it made you want to cry.

It could be the clear skies of spring, warm breeze carrying the smell of flowers; or maybe the blueberry sour candy that stained your tongue. It also reminded you of that stray cat that followed you around, purring against your leg even when you didn't have any treats, cyan eyes staring at you with unconditional love.

It could be the water and the sound of waves reaching the sand, or maybe the early hours of the morning, moon and sun coexisting in the sky, mist in the horizon and dirt moist with dew.

When was the last time you woke up before dawn? High school, perhaps? Or one of those nights where the tears were heavier than your eyelids? Staring at the window and the people living around you with a headache so brutal it took away your vision.

But did you have enough reasons to cry? You weren't okay, but you were neither sad nor angry; it could be worse.

Poor MC with the empty hole in their chest, no emotions to fill it with, unable to enjoy the flowers that grew inside the crevices of the pavement, the dog sunbathing in the balcony or the desire paths inches away from the manmade sidewalk.

Poor MC, no sense of direction, too detached from their own life to reject their murderer’s friendship, to listen to their survival instincts and turn around when it was due.

So lost in their lack of feelings that the only thing they could confine in was the color blue.

Blue, like the wings of a butterfly.

Like Levi's aquarium.

Like laying in the midst of his pillows, his blankets and his clothes, the familiarity of his scent surrounding you when everything became too much.

Levi, who didn't need to ask why whenever you showed up at his door with cloudy vision. The one who respectfully turned up the volume of his headphones so you could cry in peace, uncomfortable upon your sadness, but understanding.

Whatever you would give him without any reason to do so, he would give you. His presence, his silence, his words… A lending ear, a forced joke to ease the room, a tutorial for a game you've already played millions of times.

Levi, who treated you like his lover, his idol and, above all, his bestfriend.

When he'd look at you, your wet cheeks and your red nose, half of your face buried in the nest you'd made in his bathtub, he'd realize.

The color of his pact was orange, but he was an aquatic demon. Wouldn't it make more sense if he wore the color of his own element?

But then again, you were the color blue: the depths of the ocean, the lights of his room, Henry's tank. Laying together and staring at the ceiling while talking about the last game he'd purchased, hugging him when he became to embarrassed to do anything else and kissing him when he believed he didn't deserve it.

You were to him what he hoped he'd someday be to you.

Blue.

Just like water.

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pillow-anime-talk · 11 days

Note

Hiii! Can i request prompt 7 with Fyodor?

# tags: scenario; current relationship; light romance; fluff; ooc!fyodor; reader is a hacker; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. fyodor dostoyevsky {bsd}

author’s note: hii! of course! i really like him!

7. “You’re so dumb!” “No? You’re dumb.”

There were nights during which Fyodor would stay up until dawn, looking for helpful tips, information and names to make his plan successful for him and his associates. Sometimes he sat until 1 a.m. with a cup of already chilled coffee, and sometimes he stared at the bright screen of the monitor until 8 a.m., with empty vitamin boxes or glasses of half-drunk red wine standing next to him. The mound of sweet candy wrappers was also an everyday sight...

In between all this, all this multitude of numbers, dates and words, there was you: in a warm sweater and fluffy socks, bringing him a nutritious snack from time to time (vegetable sandwiches or fried rice with eggs) or asking if everything was okay. Sometimes you would remind him to drink water or go to the bathroom, and when Fyodor actually agreed with you, he would quickly get up from his chair and go to do his physiological needs.

Then you would sit in his place, enter the appropriate code sequences, then return to the bedroom or living room (depending on the time on watch) and pass the dark-haired man, saying ‘Goodnight’ to him with a light smile or a fleeting kiss.

When Fyodor sat down on the black chair again and continued working, no more than five minutes passed, when various words, symbols or photos appeared on the screen that were an affirmation of him and your relationship; red hearts, photos of kittens touching noses... All this made the young man stunned, and after a while, also slightly amused. On the one hand, he was happy that you were a talented programmer, but on the other, it was his downfall when it was time to make fun of him.

The lines of code that corresponded to given inscriptions or images were deleted automatically, so nothing bad happened to your partner’s work, and you just continued to bury your face in the pillow with a slight smile or read the next page of your favorite book, having in mind the sight of Fyodor with slight blushes on the face.

Then, depending on the time and situation, Fyodor would text you saying “You’re so stupid!” to which you usually responded with a simple “No. You’re stupid. You don’t appreciate my advances...”

It all usually ended in quiet laughter or a war of nicknames and emojis.

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eirist · 4 months

Text

Morning After Christmas

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: A ZoNa Holiday Events is up at Tumblr for the month of December. We got selected themes for each day and we’d love other ZoNa shippers to join and celebrate our favorite couple with holiday-themed fanarts and fanfics! Feel free to check it here: @zonamievents

This is one day late. Today’s theme is different but I’ll still push it.

Theme: #17 - Morning After Christmas

Summary: All that eventually led them here. The morning after Christmas—all tangled up in each other and wrapped in the coziest blankets…

Soft.

So soft.

He can hardly remember a time when he woke up nuzzled against something so soft, so comforting…

…and so warm.

Zoro doesn’t really care much about the comforts of life. He rarely lets unnecessary whims or luxuries bother him and he rarely indulges in them.

Well except of course when it’s sleep and sake. Those are the only two things he lets himself enjoy without any restrictions.

He lived simply. He survived with whatever is on hand without any complaint or fuss. As long as there is food to eat, water to drink, a shade to rest and sleep (doesn’t matter if it is inside an abandoned shelter or a tree in the midst of the forest); he is all good.

But this feeling that greeted him the moment he woke up was too pleasant to pass. It was new and not something he is used to. Zoro had woken up with a lot of the not-so-nice things greeting him—an end of a sword or knife pointed at his throat, the hard, cold ground, a growling, wild animal looking for food, a punch in head, the cold sea water, Luffy’s mouth about to take a chomp of him and his pillow while dreaming of meat (and he wasn’t the only one in the boy’s room to experience this, it’s a constant problem)…

…but never this. Never surrounded by this kind of warmth and comfort and softness he had never known before. The kind that makes you never want to pull away. Ever.

Just this once he wanted to let himself bask in it. Revel in it. The way he indulges himself with sleep and alcohol—no restrictions

He took a deep breath and buried his face closer to it. To the warmth, the softness that smelled slightly of…

Tangerines.

Like Nami’s tangerines.

With that he cracked his eye open, all his senses now wide awake.

His gaze was instantly fixed on the sight of smooth skin, tanned slightly from sailing under sun. There are wisps of curling orange hair resting against the slender curve of the neck and framing a beautiful, sleeping face.

Nami took a deep breath in her sleep, her bare shoulder slowly rising and falling at the action. Zoro watched in fascination as her lips pursed slightly, her brows furrowing before she nestled closer to him. Her chin settled against the top of his head and he realized what that softness he was feeling was.

He was actually pressed against her, his face settled comfortably against her generous breasts.

His initial reaction was to jerk back the moment it dawned unto him that he was eye level with those beautiful, naked mounds and that enticing cleavage. But stopped short when he realized that he can’t move… he and Nami were tangled up with each other. Their arms and legs entwined in a way that they slept locked in each other’s embrace.

Well… their Christmas night had been crazy fun. Why else would they end up wrapped in each other this morning?

Not that he’s complaining. They’ve been doing this exasperating back and forth with each other for so long it was bound to blow up anytime soon. Besides he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment their petty and perpetual squabbling turned into a sort of their own secret language and a way to show their affection for each other that was actually there—quietly sitting and patiently waiting to rear its head out in the least expected moment.

But he had known (and so did Nami) that there was a certain shift in their bickering which initially were tinge with insults that were meant to pull the other down a peg or two or put them in their own places. It had something in it that wasn’t there before. How every time it ended, they’d part ways just like before, huffing at each other only this time they would both desperately try to hide a smirk and a smile as they walk away.

How Zoro was now always looking forward to it and would sometimes deliberately try to rile the navigator up and how Nami did the same, purposely coming up the crow’s nest while he trains or naps to start a row with him.

It never ended with either one of them annoyed with each other. And that was new and surprising and to be honest kind of exhilirating.

He also started being more tolerant of her, not getting easily irritated with her complaints or even if she was waking him up with her fist. The same goes for her, she doesn’t make too much fuss when he gets lost or when he says or do something that she deemed stupid.

And he realized while all this is happening, they also started to move closer to each other. Literally. Like they were drawn to each other like magnets. They started sitting beside each other more often. Or standing almost near each other. But always at arm’s length… far enough yet still close enough.

Three weeks into Christmas, the distance they carefully kept between them while they try to make sense on what they should do totally disappeared.

And the touching started.

Light and fleeting at first. A tap on the shoulder, a nudge on the arm, the back of their hands brushing against each other…

Zoro stood much closer to her now, near enough to breathe in the scent of tangerines from her hair. And Nami started crowding on his personal space, leaning on to him with a cheeky smile on her face especially when she needs to pass someone something or get something from someone, almost as if she was teasing him.

On one random island where they docked for the day, she had ‘accidentally’ pulled at his fingers in an attempt to stop him from turning around a random corner and disappearing on them because he definitely will get lost the moment she lose sight of him.

And Nami never let go.

Her dainty hand was wrapped around three of his fingers as she tugged him all over the marketplace to buy some necessities for their stock. He followed her with a lot of grumbling and expletives all at the same time marvelling at the size difference of their hands.

How soft hers was. How coarse his is.

How it just feels right.

Before the sun set that day, his hand was intertwined with hers. And for reasons so much more than because he’ll wander off and will get lost.

And soon after they would find their hands interlaced together at random times of the day. Always surreptitiously, never in front of the others. Only when they are sure that they are only ones in the room.

She’d casually lean her head on his shoulder while they were up in the crow’s nest on their night shifts. His hand would rest the small of her back as they explore the island where they just docked just by themselves, far from the crew.

And when they are alone in the crow’s nest again before the change of watch, that same hand would wound itself around her waist so he can pull her closer to him for a kiss.

All that eventually led them here. The morning after Christmas—all tangled up in each other and wrapped in the coziest blankets Nami had brought last night after their Christmas celebration along with a bottle of sake to share.

“Mmmm…” Nami suddenly hummed as she started to stir awake, her body moving languidly to stretch. She opened her eyes and chocolate brown orbs peered down at him in wonder, blinking twice before a warm smile spread on her face.

“You awake already?” She murmured softly, her voice still laced with sleep. “It’s not even the break of the day.”

Zoro smirked. He rubbed a hand against her exposed arm noticing how the skin on it prickled with the cold air of dawn. Luckily they were nowhere near a winter island right now or they’d both be freezing by now from falling asleep with just the blankets on them.

“These blankets are crazy soft,” Nami was mumbling, rubbing her feet against the material. “It feels so good.”

“Yeah,” Zoro agreed, as he continued to warm her arm.

She just let out a soft purring sound of contentment at his ministration before her eyes drifted close again. “Sleep with me some more Zoro.” she requested.

The swordsman chuckled. He’d never deny her that.

He adjusted their position so Nami was now the one whose eye level with his chest, her head resting on the crook of his arm. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead as he covered them with one of the blankets so they both could drift off back to sleep.

The soft giggle she let out sent a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Zoro rarely lets himself indulge in this kind of comfort.

But maybe this morning after Christmas he might finally start to.

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zonaholiday2023 #zona fanfiction #zoro nami fanfiction #zona one-shot #zona holiday prompts #roronoa zoro #nami

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hausofmamadas · 7 months

Text

| Tu cómplice |

⁂

Pairing: Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada x Benjamín Arellano Félix

For @narcosfandomdiscord NarcOctober Fanworks collection [October 1 - Day of Firsts]

Word count: ≈ 2.8K

TWs: Canon-consistent violence? Much angst but like in the supes casual way I imagine Mayo does..?

Just the two of them seated at the wrought iron table in the backyard, up till dawn, smoking and talking. It felt quite the honor just to see the man laugh. Ngl guys, this is Basically just Mayo internally but actively pining for Mín? for like kinda no reason?? while he’s negotiating with Dina because Mín’s gone into hiding after the assassination of Cardinal Juan Posadas Ocampo. Idk this is literally just 3k words of nonsense and insanity. It’s legitimately one of the most aimless and ooc things I’ve ever written sksks but hey!! it exists now..?

⁂

The ornate, gilded door knocker felt heavy between his fingertips as he rapped a few times and waited, stubbing out his cigarette in the open mouth of one of the lion statues placed on either side of the stairway. He chuckled to himself. If it wasn’t an ashtray before, it was one now. To him it looked like one anyway. The mansion’s pretentious decor always screamed “New Money” to him, no matter how hard the Arellanos tried to bury Sinaloa in their past.

By his count, Mayo had only ever been to Arellano house three times. Once by invitation, another by accident, and a third - the last - by mistake. A mistake he couldn’t muster the good sense to regret no matter how hard he tried.

It never pays to fall for a family man, isn’t that what the girls say? Certainly the ones he’d shared a few fleeting nights with between the sheets, a wad of folded bills on the nightstand, couple packs of cigarettes, and some pillow talk that always told some tale of woe about falling for a family man. But is that what happened? Had he fallen? Or was he just at sea like always? Either way, it made for no less than an interesting ride.

The relief-distorted disappointment when it was Pancho who answered the door should’ve told him something, even if he didn’t care to pay it much mind just now. A matter for tomorrow. Except that’s what he’d told himself the whole time. Shit, that’s how he got into this mess. Surely there’d come a point when tomorrow was today, no?

Pancho smiled, “Qué húbole, compa?” and pulled Mayo in, clapping his back twice in a way that was warm and sincere as much as it was overwhelming. But Pancho was good people. He always liked Pancho. Shit, who didn’t like Pancho.

“Nada mucho, nada más,” Mayo winked, tipping his hat as he crossed the threshold into the foyer of the Arellano mansion.

He smirked to himself at the same private joke he had every time he’d set foot in this house: the place’s grandiosity might be as intimidating as it was meant to be if it weren’t so fucking cartoonish. But he supposed that’s what happened when you let an overgrown manchild, dressed head-to-toe in Versace, stick his gold-dipped cuerno de chiva against the decorator’s temple and threaten to blow them away into semi-automatic oblivion, just for a discount on silk drapes from Rome or wherever-the-fuck.

Mayo's eyes stung a bit, hit with the phantom smell of the cigar smoke that came tumbling out of Benjamín’s mouth when he’d laughed himself nearly to tears telling Mayo that story. It'd been just the two of them seated at the wrought iron table in the backyard, up 'til dawn, smoking and talking. It felt quite the honor just to see the man laugh. He got the feeling Mín didn’t laugh much. That was the second time Mayo had been here.

He shook his head, the image etch-A-sketched away like nothing and followed Pancho through the foyer to the dining room and then the living room. Or rather, one of the living rooms. The house smelled so strongly of floral-scented candles and potpourri, he worried he might get a headache sitting in here for too long. They must’ve just had the place cleaned. It bothered him that he even noticed and it especially bothered him why. That it was because there was no hint of that familiar, faint musk that should’ve been there, expensive without trying too hard, that seemed to trail Mín along with a perpetual cloud of neurotic discontent, everywhere he went.

Even from the beginning Mayo liked that about him. The discontent he wore right on his sleeve. He’d noted it when they’d first met at some meat market in Mazátlan, right around the time he first linked up with the Sinaloa crew, just before they arrested Miguel and the whole Federation got dissolved. Just in Mín's discontent, his raw, kinetic ambition, Mayo saw something of himself, even if the two fo them strove for very different things. He used to think, what a strange little something you are, Benjamín Arellano Félix, the way one would think fondly of a pet they had growing up. He found himself wishing now that Mín felt just a pet to him.

But they belonged to each other in a new way now. Darker, tenuous, and confounding in just exactly how straightforward it was. No implications, no questions to be asked. It said nothing about either of them except that they belonged, if only for and evening. Or the amount of time it takes to smoke a full Montecristo and down a stiff drink of scotch.

He turned to the fish tank and stared at his warped reflection, saying to no one in particular, “Things are changing real fast, huh? The army in Tijuana fucking shit up. Coming after your family, no less. Now Benjamín’s gone. Fucking mess, huh?”

He felt it coming. This meeting. Depending on the outcome, it might signify a breaking point and he’d have to choose between what is and what should never be. The Arellanos got caught flying far too close to the sun and they knew it now. (And everyone wondered why he preferred boats.) It’s what set Mín on the lam, no telling how long he would be out there. Floating around wherever he was. Away.

Shaking his head, “Just hoping it all blows over and Benjamín can come back home,” Pancho spilled a glass of some brown liquor, as he set it down on the beverage cart in front of Mayo.

Amused, Mayo tried mopping it with only his fingers until he gave up, taking a sip. There was still plenty to drink, since Pancho had filled it nearly to the brim, almost as high as his own. Suddenly, it made sense why Pancho wasn’t in charge of the family business despite being the oldest. Hombre couldn’t bluff for shit.

Mayo took the seat by the beverage cart, as Pancho practically melted back onto the giant couch across from him. Doing his best to affect it, almost like an afterthought, Mayo leaned back in the chair and said, “Send him my best, yeah?” He took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pockets, giving them a little jiggle and raising his eyebrows.

Pancho got what he was asking but Dina startled him with an answer before Pancho got the chance. She spoke from behind them, standing at a large window, “Of course, please. Make yourself at home.” She waved her own lit cigarette as if to hammer the point home. “I do it in here all the time. Drives mamá mad. The smell gets in the drapes, she says.”

How long had she been standing there? Her beige suit blended so well with the drapes she spoke about with such indifference. Mayo half wondered if it was some kind of business tactic, camouflaging with the furniture. Better to hear all chisme whispered in these halls by house staff or other scheming subordinates a quien no le gustaba tener una jefa. In truth, he didn’t much like it either. But he hadn’t figured out if it was just because she was a woman or because of the kind of woman she was. He never had much patience for anyone with a chip on their shoulder.

Though he’d certainly made an exception for Mín who’d carted around a chip so heavy, it was a wonder he never tipped over. So, maybe it was the woman thing. Did it much matter? Not really cuando sabía que ella había planeado quitarle sus huevos. All these months later, and that cool twenty mil still burned a hole in their coffers and there was no making eyes at Dina to make it all go away, least of all when they were hurting for the cash. Not that he wouldn’t try. That is after all how he and Benjamín started off doing ... Well, whatever the fuck they did.

He thought of Dina’s wedding, how light and alive, self-assured Benjamín was. In his element. A new look he wore so well that, in Mayo’s estimation, he didn’t get to enjoy for long enough. Now look where they all were.

“So look, Pancho,” he brushed Dina off because if her goal was to blend in with it, well, he was happy to treat her like the furniture. “Amado’s expanded operations. Taken over the port in Peñasco, made it hard for my boats to unload. I was hoping to redirect them through San Ysidro, and not pass them through Tijuana.”

“That would put all your business in our plaza, wouldn’t it?”

The smirk of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar broke across Mayo's face and he dragged on his cigarette, nodding in the affirmative.

“And yet, you refuse to join our organization?”

He offered the answer that seemed to satisfy anyone who challenged his go-it-alone approach. It satisfied Mín well enough when he'd approached Mayo at the wedding. “Es qué, a mí me gusta ser mi propio patrón.”

Nothing less than the truth. In an industry of professional con artists, backstabbers, hustlers, and murderers, maybe like her brother, she’d appreciate it.

“Yes, so you’ve said.” She didn’t.

And she still hadn’t turned around to face them. For people so concerned with blending into high society, the Arellanos weren’t the most well-mannered. Mayo’s working-class manner of dress might, to the untrained eye, indicate that manners weren’t something he cared about. But he did. Even in his blackest moments, twisting his knife in someone’s gut or getting ready to light them on fire, he couldn’t much find a reason not to be at least cordial.

Fighting for a lifeline, he glanced at Pancho who almost looked like he was trying to become one with the couch, drink limp in his hand, as he stared at the All-Knowing Queen in white.

She finally turned to grace them with her full attention, gliding over and resting her hands on the back of the empty couch next to him. “You owe us twenty million dollars. What’s your plan to repay us?”

Back in the days when Miguel held court and favored the Sinaloa faction at the expense of his own family, dicking the Arellanos around as though the petulant kids he’d watched grow up would remain petulant kids forever, Mayo remembered thinking that Mín’s attempts at diplomacy weren’t well-earned by their uncle. And he’d told Mín as much. Even Dina agreed at the time.

But all these years later, with Dina the sharp tip of the lethal spear that was now the Arellano Félix Organization, Mayo wondered if they couldn’t do with some of Benjamín’s trademark diplomacy. Mín liked people. He knew how to talk to them. Dina was trickier to deal with. Though savvy like her brother, she was nothing but prickly, sharp edges. Good for dealing what needed to be dealt to their enemies. Not much for making friends.

Mayo tried his hand at diplomacy, “Money in shrimping, eh … moves slower than I’d like,” but ire crept in anyway when the absence of his— his— of Benjamín was screaming at him. “Benjamín understands that. I pay as it comes.”

Understands, yes. Present tense. He was gone, not dead and even with Dina in charge, he still must’ve been keeping tabs from somewhere. She couldn’t have the final word here. Not really.

Unwilling to follow his lead in diplomacy, she shot back. “How much have you got?”

“Here with me?” Now he was annoyed.

And that was met with a haughty huff from her, along with a scorn-filled smirk, so acrid and bitter he nearly tasted it in the air between them. She had him where she wanted him and it twisted his gut, knowing where this was about to go.

“You aren’t moving anything through this plaza until the tax is paid.”

It was over already and he knew it. That didn’t stop him from trying one final time, “Qué dice, Pancho? Esa es la última palabra de la familia?” like it might speak Benjamín into their living room.

Of course, when it didn’t work, the thought of Mín, knowing what he’d have to resort to next, only served to make his stomach churn more. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. What’s that thing they say about purple elephants? Because before the first don’t, the image of Benjamín’s gentle brown eyes in the moonlit backyard, full of that kinetic ambition, not for success but for something else —belonging— flooded Mayo. The third time he’d been here.

᪣

It had only been a few months since the wedding. A celebration at Roxanne’s gone awry and he’d had to bring Ramón home before he tore the club apart, going after Chapo for some snide comment about what they all knew happened to Rayo. The bad blood between the Arellanos and the Sinaloa crew was so long standing without erupting into an all-out war, it seemed to make sense at the time to at least attempt to avoid tipping it over the edge. In hindsight, the whole shitshow was gripped with such inevitability, it seemed more like going against the will of the gods, now that he thought about it. But you only know what you know when you know it. So, he done the sensible thing, intervened before things got ugly, agreeing against his better judgment to remove Ramón from the equation, by driving the rowdy motherfucker home while he sat in the passenger's seat of his pickup, three sheets to the wind, sprawled out, passed out, and snoring. Despite the fact he’d had no love para el pinshe huevón, there was love in his heart somewhere. And so it was easy to say, “yes” after shucking Ramón off his shoulder onto one of their house staff's, when Mín offered him a cigar and a drink. An opportunity for another of their little chats that they’d come to enjoy whenever they crossed paths. Though Mayo had noticed, in the distinct lack of one, every one of those times happened to be under the unconscious supervision of a crowd. So that when Benjamín complimented him on his business savvy, and said things like, “Fuck, man. You’re better than that,” the grin that spread across his face never got as wide as it wanted to be. They never stood as close as they’d wanted to. They never talked for as long as they wanted to. It was for the best. Because without the safety net of nosy onlookers, talking about life, growing up in Sinaloa, the incessant hustle, the never ending grind to the top, commiserating over the absurdity of this business they’d both come up in, ambition, what all of it even meant? Could they do something else? Should they do something else? Was it really worth it?— they both folded like a pair of cheap suits. And so he didn’t remove it, when Mín’s hand found itself on top of his. The contrast of how smooth, almost manicured it was compared his own, weather-worn, brought to light disparities that extended far beyond the physical and yet didn’t make a bit of difference. The words tumbled from Mín’s lips suddenly. “You know ... I do love my wife.” And that trademark cloud of anxiety that made him think too much came swept over them with a fury. Not long for this world, Mayo waved it away. “I know you do.” “You do?” It was almost funny. Despite the evident affinity they shared in these little chats, Mín’s shock reminded him just how little they really knew each other. How much of a gamble he’d just taken. “You know that I know that this,” Mayo lifted their hands, fingers interlaced together, and placed his lips against one of Mín’s knuckles, “and that,” then bobbed his head toward the house, “can be different but true, at the same time.”

᪣

He sighed and swallowed the memory hard.

“‘Ta bueno, ‘ta bueno,” nodding vigorously because he saw the whole fucking thing coming before he’d set foot in the house. Standing up and putting his hat back on, he muttered cooly, “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time.”

Striding toward the fish tank, he thought of Mín again and turned back around. He met Dina’s eyes in a challenge, you did this but simply tipped his hat, “Patrona,” a gesture of faux respect she was undoubtedly smart enough and petty enough to see for what it was.

On his way out of the house, he was already hard at work, scouring his brain. What was the last number that he had for Amado? Fuck, that shit was months ago. He'd probably have a new one. Oh, well. It'd be worth it. Or ... would it? Well frankly, if he was really honest with himself, he'd probably stopped giving a shit the second the words, "make yourself at home" came out of her mouth.

Stepping out into the midday sun at the top of the steps leading down to the driveway, he caught the carcass of his cigarette laying in the lion's mouth out of the corner of his eye.

Dina would regret this and probably never even know why.

But Benjamín would.

En ese mundo de complicidades y traiciones, un día tu mejor enemigo es tu cómplice y al otro se convierte en tu peor enemigo.

═

taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @drabbles-mc

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yoakenouta · 6 months

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guys. foca.llette is the gui.li we never had

#✦ WHEN the dawn is buried. (ooc.)#TELL ME IM WRONG #THEYRE VERY DIFFERENT PEOPLE AND HAVE DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES BUT LIKE #ITS THE ROMANTIC TRAGEDY FOR ME #these kinds of ships are so tender and break my heart so much ... i die inside

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scarrypossmscribs · 2 years

Text

Zombie AU || Where mc got injured and is slowly dying ||

I like angst. Inspo from all the fan art of zombie!Ren and zombie movies i binged. Gn!Y/N, zombie!Ren, Slight mention of gore.

(might be ooc please dont punt me into the sun am sorry) Just to be clear Y/N isn’t dying from a bite or anything.

“Kuh...” You struggle to exhale, blood bubbling out your throat and spilling from the side of your slightly cracked lips.

Your sight, shaky, is still very much clear, and as you fall backward, your head held up slightly by someone, you stare at the metal pole through your abdomen.

It's... cold.

The pole sends shockwaves of chilling pain through you, the feeling of death and the absence of flesh finally dawning on you, as the adrenaline rush from the previous fight fades.

“Ughmph- “ You groan, only to have more warm blood escape through your mouth. You hear the sounds of more fighting, yelling, frantic calls for you to focus. But... it’s not enough.

After all that? Everything we’ve gone through..?

You think as the world starts to slow. Tilting your head up to look at Leon.

And you remember that you were trying to protect them from an attack.

I guess... dying protecting a friend is better than dying alone because of starvation.. or something..

Trying to breathe steadily, you smile, knowing that you’re dying for a good cause. Even if everything started over a stupid fight for supplies at an unknown gas station in the middle of nowhere.

Not knowing how long you have left, you crack a smile at Leon, whispering soft “I’m okay”’s, to hopefully comfort them from the gruesome sight.

The sounds of fighting lessen, and you see your zombie friend, Ren, frantically looking over you as they aggressively push Leon out of the way, cradling your head protectively.

“S’don’t be mean” You murmur, words slurring.

You hear vaguely hear him respond with disheartening growls and grunts, and feel him bury his head into the crook of your neck.

You close your eyes, resigning to your grim fate when you feel a burst of pain from your shoulder. And a pulsating, stinging feeling, thumping in your chest.

“Agh!” Your head jolts and your body weakly struggles, writhing in the added pain.

What? No. No, no, no, no.

You try to get a good look at Ren, as he lifts his head and stares back down at you in desperation.

Why? What if you weren’t able to stay sane like them? Ren is a rare case- what if I hurt someone?

You look into Rens’ eyes, and something just... clicks.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you go wild, hurt, or kill, your friends.

Just as long as you’re alive and safe, by his side.

Anger, fear, and something unknown pulse through your veins, as you pray to whatever god there is for what comes next.

#14dwy #zombie!ren #14 days with you #ren #[redacted]#yandere #zombie!au #14dayswithyou

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ragnvdnir · 2 years

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THE THREE TYPES OF LOVE WITH DILUC RAGNVINDR

SYNOPSIS — they say that we fall in love with three people in our lifetimes, but you only loved one and it's diluc.

CHARACTER — diluc x gn!reader

INCLUDES — diluc's backstory spoilers, hurt/comfort, second chances, closures, alchol intake, flawed characters, might be ooc diluc, character development, happy ending

NOTES — i got this idea from a tiktok video made by @/smalltalkpodcast, here is the link.

TAGLIST — @elychee @jupeater @v3nv5

PUPPY LOVE — the fairytale love. the one that we think would last forever, but it wont. because we'll soon learn that fairytales dont exist.

you were sixteen when you first had your puppy love with diluc. the age where you thought everything can be magical forever. a love that was too young and hopeful for this world.

diluc loved you too, he was beyond infatuated. he loves being near you. he loves being your knight in shining armor. he loves you.

the type of love you two had is where you both will sneak out of your houses to meet each other under the willow where you both carved your names in a heart. the type of love where you were too joyful to wake up from this fever dream, wishing to stay like this for eternity.

you were seventeen when you had your first kiss under the glimmering moon you both used to watch. teeth clashing against each other without even knowing how to properly kiss a person. no one paid any mind to it though, all you can think about is the butterflies swimming in your stomach, his touch under your jaw, your burning love you had for each other.

everything was too unreal for you too feel, like something out of fairytale. you hope to stay like this forever. you wished to keep feeling like this for a very long time. but it was only a matter of time before you will wake up from everything, before you lose your love.

he turned eighteen when everything went downhill. he fell into the depths of misery and apathy. his father died and he suddenly resented his own sworn brother for some reasons he won't tell to anyone.

to say that this never affected your relationship was a big lie, because it did, alot. you also had your biggest fights around these times. it was too big that no one can swallow their own pride to fix this relationship. words that shoot to kill were said. it hurted the both of you, a lot.

just when you had enough of feeling like this, ready to swallow your own pride to fix everything, he suddenly disappeared without a notice, leaving you and your shattering heart into pieces for years without a proper explanation of his action. leaving you frozen in time while reminiscing your youthful days.

INTENSE LOVE — the love that will turn your world upside down. the one that comes with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. the one that will cause you so much pain. because it will teach you what you want and what you don't want.

when you thought that you've finally moved on and forgot about your past with diluc. just when you thought that buried feelings were dead already, that the pain you've went through vanished too like him.

he suddenly came back four years later as if nothing happened, as if he never left someone. the horror of your face showed it all as you stood one day infront of angel's share hearing the chatters of the drunkards about the return of the owner of dawn winery.

you know who they are talking about, ofcourse you do, how could you not when master crepus only have one child? and it's obviously diluc ragnvindr, your supposedly ex-lover.

mentioning his name made you feel bitter. you can only sigh as you opened the door of angel's share to meet up with your friends and also readying yourself to face him any second.

as you opened the door, the noise of the place greeted you. the moment you placed your eye sight in the counter, you saw him. he was talking to charles, not noticing your presence.

your mouth parted at the sight of him. ‘he's really here’ you thought before closing your eyes to calm yourself down. as you opened your eyes after the inhales and exhales, his ruby eyes found yours. you held your breath as you mainted the eye contact with him. you don't know what you look right now, does your face shows the look of resentment? hatred? or perhaps hopes that you can try again?

he looked away first as he continued conversing with charles without greeting nor showing any expression seeing you. your hopes were crushed. your heart feels heavy. you felt your throat creating a lump as tears formed in your eyes.

you questioned yourself why does it hurt being rejected like this. why did the feelings that you burried suddenly came back to life. why did the pain felt ten times worst than before. is it because when he's finally here infront of you as you hoped, he turned away from you?

he can bring you back to life but he can also be the cause of your death. you hated how your world revolved around him. you hated how you never find yourself to love again if it's not him. you swallowed before turning away and leaving the tavern. you can't face your friends when you're like this.

it went on and on like that, avoiding him as much as you could. but you know that things can't stay like this forever, you have to over come this. so one day, you went into the tavern by yourself. as you walked in, you sat straight in the counter and ordered a drink. you never glance at him as he hands you the glass, you muttered a small ‘thank you’ before drinking.

as hours passed by, you felt more relaxed like this despite diluc's presence. and maybe because of this, you got a little more carefree and drank more than you can take.

you know how people get braver whenever they got drunk? yeah, you do that also. it was closing time already and you were slumped over the counter, sleeping. diluc gently shook you awake while calling your name.

by the time you got awakened, you turned your head at him and blurted out words that he never expected to hear.

“do you know how hurt i was when you left without telling me? you stood me up, diluc. i was left for four years without a proper explanation, only the words of your headmaid that said you left. i once thought that you hated me because you just... disappeared...” you muttured while downpour of your eyes wet the wooden counter.

diluc was silent, he can't say anything. seeing you hurting like this because of him made him want to hide once again because he doesn't have the face to talk to you after the disaster he have caused in your life. after a few more silence, he cleared his throat before letting you hear his voice that you haven't heard in the last four years.

“tomorrow, if you still remember what happened tonight, then come and see me in the manor, i'll give you an explanation, i'll tell you everything.” he said before telling charles to watch over you as he left the tavern to do his nightly duties.

the next day, you nervously walked towards dawn winery. ‘this is it, you're finally getting the explanation you want.’

when you arrived there, adelinde escorted you to diluc's room. she knocked on the wooden door before telling him that you arrived. you heard the faint ‘let them in’ and then she opened the door for you. you thanked her and went inside.

as you walked in, your eyes wandered the structure and designs of his room. ‘not that too much of things, simple and plain, just like how he always likes it’ you shook your head at the thought of a memory before clearing your throat to let him know.

“please have a seat.” he gestured on the seat infront of him.

you nodded and sat on the chair. it was painfully awkward and quite, no one talked. getting irritated at this silence, you started the conversation first. “so, are you gonna tell me something?”

this startled diluc. nevertheless, he nodded before starting to give you explanations. he explained everything why he did that. how he wanted to avenge his father. how something surfaced between him and kaeya. the reason he resigned from knights of favonius. the selfish thing they did. everything, even how he barely managed to escape death given by the fatui harbingers.

by the time he finished, you went silent. then suddenly, he heard your sniffles. diluc was panicked, did he do something wrong? he stood up to find a something to wipe your tears but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“please don't leave me.” you whispered between your sniffles. you never said what you mean by that but both of you know there is something much deeper in those words. diluc looked away from you before placing his hand behind your head and pulled you towards his stomach and hugged you. you wrapped your arms around him while you sobbed, damping his shirt with your tears.

“wh- why didn't you atleast tell me? i- i could have understood it sooner, diluc.” you hiccuped as you hugged him tighter.

“i thought it will be the best for the both of us. i thought by leaving you will make your life better and safer from the things that i'm about to commit myself into.” he replied. he removed your grip on him and suddenly kneels infront of you that caused your eyes to widen. he held your hands, pressing a light kiss on them before he rested his forehead on them.

“w- what?” you stammered as you tried to make him stand up. never have you ever saw diluc kneel in both of his two knees to anyone. but now, he did infront of you to plead for forgiveness.

“but i was wrong seeing how hurt you are from my selfishness.” diluc looks up at you and you saw how his eyes glimmering as he mutters apologies.

“i'm sorry for hurting you, i'm sorry for being selfish. i know words cannot change anything but i really am sorry, y/n.” his voice shook lightly at the end of his word.

diluc's sudden return brought back the pain he didn't meant to cause you. his return made you look back at things and wished to stop this pain. his words made you wished you were a little too more push over back then so diluc never felt he was alone when you were there. you wished you matured at those times already so you never acted negligence when you didn't notice his life went downhill. you both made mistakes and you're glad that you and him reflected on it already.

this closure made you two want to improve yourselves. it made you realize your actions before, the actions of eighteen years olds who only knew that they love each other but never realized that they're also hurting them.

you two properly ended your relationship after the talk. breaking up for the best, for yourselves. if you're gonna ask yourself before what you want, your younger self will probably say that they want to resent diluc. but now that you have a closure, you realized that resenting him is too much of being selfish after he tells you how he felt when no one was there for him when his father died. when his brother told him the truth that created a wall between them. how he never felt your presence when he needed you the most.

you weren't there at his lowest, and him to you. you two were flawed back then, too blinded by young love. and now, all you want is to change yourselves for the better.

changing for the better means cutting things off and focusing on yourselves. you left mondstadt to chase your dreams. meanwhile, diluc promised himself and to you to improve each day, to cultivate the winery, and cherish the things that made him happy.

it was for the best, for you and him. for you to deserve each other. you realized that you have to be the best version of yourself first before loving someone.

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE — the one that will stay. the one that will make us feel loved, adored, safe and secure. the one that we didn't see coming, but will make us feel home.

it was time to go back home, to mondstadt. years have already passed by since your break up and closure with diluc. chasing your dreams made you feel better, and you hoped he feels better too.

you know that you've changed yourself, and you hoped he did too. surely, you don't want to come back there if he's still the past flawed diluc right?

you know that you can never be perfect, so you settled on improving and changing yourself, there's not a perfect person after all, that includes you and diluc.

as you went down the ship, you smiled as you took in the city of freedom. it has been so long. you thanked the crews of the ship as they helped you down your things.

you're very happy to finally see your friends again.... and him. you won't lie to yourself, even as time separated you two, you still love him.

sometimes you thought to yourself is it possible to still love the person you hurt, who also hurt you? and the answer is infront of you as you stared wide eyed at the red-haired man who stand in the docks while giving you a welcoming smile.

your heart raced as he walked towards you, you scanned him. he looks so mature now, he still have that long hair but this time it's tied up. his features got even more defined. he became calmer and relaxed.

“welcome home,” he said.

he spread his arms as if signaling you to give him a hug. you didn't waste time before beaming at him and hugging him tight. god, you missed him.

“finally, after all these years. i won't lie but it certainly is hard living without seeing you for years, but i promised to myself and to you that i will change so i endured it all. and now, seeing you infront of me, it was all worth it.” seeing diluc genuinely smiling at you feels like a fever dream.

“i hope you achieved your dreams.” he said as he caress your hair. you find it hard to utter a word, you are beyond shocked to see how much diluc changed.

“i- i did, i am happy.” you manage to let it out as you continue gazing at him, awestruck.

“i am proud of you, remember that.” you smiled at him as your eyes watered. you removed your arms around him to wipe the tears. ‘it's nice hearing that from him’

“You know, even though we got separated for years, it's still you.” your eyes widened at his sudden confession. you swallowed before replying your truth.

“so am i, i find it hard just to forget about you.” you saw how his smile became wider. he held your cheeks and caressed them before glancing down on your lips.

“can i?” he whispered as his eyes returned to you.

“you may.” you answered before his lips connected with yours. you two have kissed before but this time, it's more meaningful and... it's right.

when you decided to come back here in mondstadt, the least thing you expected is for him to still love you, adore you, to still choose you, to stay. you two once made a mistake that ended up hurting each other. you two are in each other's arms again, but now, only unconditional and patient.

note: i hope i didn't make diluc too ooc especially in the end. i initially thought this one will be very short but ig i got carried away lolol. also, belated happy birthday again luc!

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chenyann · 2 years

Text

A cowardly lion in disguise as a lonesome lamb

Lilia vanrouge

My villan arc starts here 😈 Have you heard the rumor of the break up with the Drunken believer and a prideful coward?

Cw:my bad attempt on angst,ooc?,mentions of being drunk,unedited,maybe got some pronouns wrong,if so plz tell me so I can fix it,talking about war,break ups.

The dawn has started and the moon has bid its farewells. Today was a new day and you were gonna spend the day with someone you cherish.

Lilia

You had confessed to him not long ago and he had wanted to think about that confession and with a week later he had hesitantly said yes.You thought no…knew he was happy with the time he spend with you so this isn't any different you sit on Lilias bed waiting for what he has to say.

Last night Lilia texted you….

[Last night 1:35am]

1 message from Lilia♡

"Hey y/n are you awake?"

2 messages from Lilia♡

"Maybe not.."

"Hmmm"

3 messages from Lilia♡

"Let's talk tomorrow okay."

"Meet me in my room at 3!"

"Sleep well"

No new messages from Lilia♡

6 unread messages from Lilia♡ tap to read them.

[Lilias room 3:09 pm]

You were sitting there for 2 minutes until he broke the warm silence,a smile appears on his face with furrowed brows.A facade washes over his face like the water from his shower little did the magenta eyed male know you noticed too.

"Lilia what's wrong?" You spoke in a tone as soft as fresh snow. You really did fit the saying 'ignorance is bliss' but Lilia didn't want to ignore anything.In a tone that sounded serious yet soft and pure he spoke "I think we should break up…"

In that moment you felt your heart pop as if it was a glass balloon, A flower in full bloom;but was dying, its petals shriveled up due to lack of love. It was too soon for it to wither away to nothingness, Yet it did.

Was this a lie?

No…

This is the truth…..

A fact…I wanted to bury away..

My selfish hope…..

I'm Drunken on false hope…

I'm a fallen buffoon….

Fate cannot be eluded forever y/n

You look in His magenta eyes, they look back at you but they seem like they are mocking you. 'You really thought this was gonna last y/n?' They mocked over and over but deep down you knew they didn't mean it; glass picks at his eyes like a vestige leaking its warmth trickles down to his lower eyelash and stays put.

Oh, how you long to kiss those tears away but you can't… that lonesome tear mocks you 'you can't take me off! Yall are no longer together!!'.Lilia wanted to beg you to stop looking upset and that he was kidding and that he wants you to love Him forever til the end of your life, but he was scared 'His cowardly pride' didn't let him do anything but stand there….

When your life is as long as war the world becomes a blur, that sound of others sound like mere mumbles,faces of others become the same, but when you see an unfamiliar face your senses direct itself to that one person, making sure they are not a threat to the ones we love but as time goes by we find that those senses still lingers with that person.That person had lit a match to the soul letting an old heart beat back to life like it's mocking those drums kids play.

They made time stop in mere seconds,his sky was no longer a dull gray with clouds,It was shades of red, indigo,cream and violet and the sun was shining gently above him.The world around him changed so much it made him feel as if the clock tower of time had fallen and shattered like glass.That his cowardly hope to find another couldn't find him in this domain…A domain where time couldn't grasp him and where he can be free like those birds not like those crows that were locked in a dull and lifeless cage.

For love that was unrequited, he had to get rid of that hope to keep his pride,Love that was teased to life and took form as a weed in this everlasting garden but as all weeds they spread when they are not taken care of.So the gardeners take the weed and pull it out gently,for if it gets yanked it would take the other flowers with it.

Those weeds were ya'll relationship,promises that were left empty and lies that were built upon.You and Lilia didn't love each other did yall?, yall loved the company, the feeling like yall were normal was what got y'all drunk…

You stood there hoping that you were still drunk on that false hope that you were not sober yet…"God….just one more chance..take me back to last week when I confessed" you thought to yourself tears threatening to spill from your eyes,Yet the dam had already spilled over.A warm tear strays down your face and falls gently on the floor,your ears are screeching for you to stop huffing and sniffling.

Lilia turns away not wanting to see the despair he caused you, his own venom paints his lips to an unruly red.The despair that flows in the form of the tears you cried made him feel as if he was 'no longer human' he tells himself that this break up is for the best for both of yall,doesn't he mean himself? It only helps him hide deeper, making him more of a hermit crab than human…

He sits down beside you and stares at the eyes he loves oh-so-dearly,he has yet to speak. If you could talk you would say something along the lines of 'you and your cowardly pride and haughty shame'. But alas you were too busy beating yourself for being too Drunk on hope.You remember you two were happy, at least in that moment of time..this haunting and lonely memory is plaguing your mind was probably to the combination of two things:A cowards pride and A drunk believer.

It's been at least an hour filled with you crying and Lilia rubbing your back in an attempt to sooth the pain he caused. He is a cowardly lion in disguise as a lonesome lamb… when all was done and tears were cried you left not as the same y/n, no…you left as a seeker not a believer who wandered the plain of the earth in hopes of love but a seeker who wanted to seek the truth of yalls disoriented relationship what was the reason of yalls break up?

His lifespan or his cowardly pride?

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the-world-of-ignavus · 5 months

Text

Moggi of the Storm (Embers) - Lieutenant Mottledstrike

Name: Mottledstrike

Other Names: Splotch (cub), Mottle (cub, cadet)

Meaning: Many Colors (Mottled-), Fierce (-strike)

Age: 4 moonspans and 5 moons | 4 years and 5 months

Identity: FtM Tom - He/Him

Orientation: Homosexual | Hierarchical Polyamorous

Rank: Lieutenant

Former Rank(s): Hunt General

A medium furred and thick coated cherry and white tom with yellow eyes and cherry toes. His spotting is a bit more uniform than one would expect; mirrored on either side of his flanks. He has white bands around his ankles and, unlike most of his faction, is mostly clear of scars. He often jokes he has the greatest healing factor in the Stormborn though his sister insists that it’s because of his thick fur and ‘harmless’ appearance making other legions mistake him for a baby bird. Mottledstrike is fairly average sized for his faction; with a slender-frame hidden beneath a wall of fur and quills.

Twin to Speckledholly, Mottledstrike was born to his parents Marestrike and Bullsnakestrike as the sickly runt of their litter as merely ‘Mottle’. Everyone there agrees that he had no real illness - not a cold or serious cough - but rather, he was simply very weak. He had trouble breathing for the entire first moon of his life, and was always a little off-kilter for a few moons after. It resulted in his promotion being delayed by one moon until Silverdream would give the sign-off that he could be safely trained.

Assigned to train under Kodiaktail, Mottle hit the ground running in a furious attempt to catch up with his prodigy of a sister. Though they were close and Speckle never gloated or boasted, he felt like he was always pushing himself to keep up with her natural talent. He struggled with managing his jealousy towards his for the first couple moons of training and though she doesn't blame him, Mottledstrike occasionally looks back at his younger self with embarrassed annoyance.

A solo-patrol on the far side of Stormborn territory one dawn would change his life when he runs into a young mother trying to defend her cub against incredibly persistent bandits. Though eventually the criminals had been warded off, the damage had been done and Mottledstrike found himself returning to the Storm-Barracks with a 3 moon old cub while insisting someone retrieve the mother's body. It's no wonder that little Coyote refuses to leave his side for the first moon of her new life, frightened and missing her mother terribly.

He was so incredibly proud when she decided she wanted to stay and be trained as a legionary, eventually taking after him and becoming a hunter. Though she wasn't his cadet, he made sure to bring her on a tour of the territory and show her the place where he buried her mother. He hopes that wherever nomads go in the afterlife, Tern is happy with how he raised her daughter.

Mottledstrike had begun to form a budding romance with Saberslash, the older tom seemingly impressed by his command on a battlefield and his power. Though Aspenwind teases him, he also strongly encourages his interest in the russet tom; insisting that 'branching out' will further teach him what he does and doesn't like.

Mottledstrike is an easily embarrassed and hardworking moggi who respects the work anyone puts in. He tries to strike that balance between being a stern lieutenant and stopping others from following in His Storm's pawsteps. He was promoted for his empathy, and he tries to ensure that he never loses it.

Drillmaster(s): Kodiaktail

Cadet(s): Chikadeechitter, Flycatcher

Parents: Marestrike (mother|deceased), Bullsnakestrike (father|deceased)

Sweetparent(s): N/A

Auncle(s): N/A

Sibling(s): Speckledholly (twin sister), Garterpounce (sister|deceased)

Nephling(s): N/A

Cousin(s): N/A

Mate(s): Aspenwind (primary)

Crush(es): Saberslash

OoC Friends: N/A

Cub(s): Coyote (daughter)

Grandcub(s): N/A

Other Notes:

Coyote asked Mottledstrike to formally adopt her under the eyes of Sweetsoul almost immediately after being assigned. Mottledstrike cried

For a very brief period he was known as Splotch (to go along with Speckle) before declaring that he was a tom - Marestrike obligingly changed his name to what he would've been called

He's younger than Asterdawn, but he frets over her constantly. He grew up with one bad thing after another happening to them and now, there are very few he trusts with her safety

#ignavus the greenwood empire #xenomoggy #ignavus moggi of the storm #ignavus stormborn lieutenants #ignavus embers profiles #ignavus mottledstrike

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