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bitchlessdino · 1 year

Text

Do it already (m)

Pairing: best friend's brother!Chan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, slice of life

Word count: 6.5k

tags: actor!chan, childhood friends!chan, possessive!chan, yearning!reader, plot rich, reader with tits, reader masturbation, kitchen counter sex, reference to drugs, oral (giving and receiving), mouth fucking, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink, unprotected sex. tender love and care

Summary: You and the Lee siblings were like three peas in a pod. That didn't last long when Chan went for his dream and left you and sister to yourselves. That was no problem since she was the best friend you could ever have. Now he's back, hot, fit, oozing sex appeal and you're wondering what it'll take for him to rail you like a train on tracks.

author note: this banner took 3 minutes to make. It's take a lot shorter if i didn't have so many spelling errors. point is this banner is the coolest bc i found a template already premade. it's been a while since i wrote a lengthy chan thing that wasn't just smut so, here you go. enjoy! and thank you to everyone that voted on the poll to make this happen. also, every thought the reader had been once my own, I overindulged once again

tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

You remember Chan eating dirt at the ripe age of 5. You were the cause of it. You thought it was funny to make a dirt and worms pie with real dirt and worms. You were right. He’s hated you since.

His sister, Chanmi, agreed with you. She thought you were really funny. Chan eventually got over the dirt pie, and found it incomplete without your presence. You became best friends after that and basically followed them everywhere. You always wanted siblings and since mom couldn’t afford to push out anymore, you settled on being fake siblings with the Lees.

Then Chan decided to pursue his dreams when he was 14. That was okay. You had more in common with Chanmi, anyway. His disappearance made you and Chanmi closer. She relied on you and you doted on her. It was a mutual symbiotic relationship. You couldn’t see a life without each other.

You ended up in the same college as well, living across the hall from each other in the same dormitory. Now you really couldn’t see a life without her.

When it was time to graduate, you really worried you’d drift apart by now. When she reassured you wouldn’t, you trusted her word, as she trusted yours when you made that same commitment. It was time to commemorate it, so in came your joint graduation party. Your families and mutual friends had joined together and celebrated the end of an era. You would now go off into a world that you feared more than it would fear you. But you had Chanmi. You couldn’t imagine a better person to do it with.

Chan had hardly crossed your mind in all these years until the very moment he walked through your front door. You could hardly recognize him in the Armani blazer and dress shoes, but it was him. He had the same sharp yet attentive brown eyes since he was a teenager. He was simply all grown up now, as have you. Chan had come to visit a few times in the time he’s been gone but you only ever saw him a brief passing, caught up in your own life.

Once our eyes have landed on him, it’s as if time has stopped. The acting school must’ve done this because his image seemed to be crafted in utter perfection. He was slightly taller than you remember, chiseled than you remember, and the least of all, more handsome than you remembered. You emphasize that you never saw Lee Chan attractive, not once, but here you were, devouring every detail of him.

He saunters over with flowers in his arms–noticeably two bouquets, one full of daisies and another with sunflowers–and stands before you and your best friend with a smile on his face. He congratulates Chanmi, handing her the bouquet of sunflowers and a hug, and within earshot saying how he knew she could do it.

Then came you. The expression on his face is something you’ve never seen him make. It bordered the line of surprised, startled, perhaps aroused, and you don’t know what to make of it. You clenched your legs anxiously before you pushed yourself up from your seat, seeing how much taller he really gotten since. It was funny since you had gotten used to being the taller one in your youth but it seems some of that has changed, along with everything about him.

“Congratulations, Y/n.” He hands you your daisies, unable to tear his gaze from you, fingers brushing against yours as he places them in your hands and electricity flows through you both.

“No hug,” you ask, trying it. His grin gets wider, arms now coming around you, and you feel his larger than life biceps close in a tight embrace. The scent that entered your personal circle now engulfed your senses, blackberries and cream. He smelled sweet, comforting, and if you help it, down right edible.

You sigh, hugging closer, closing your eyes to fully appreciate his warmth and he spoke to a lethally soft tenor, “You’re looking good, Dirt cake. Welcome to adulthood.”

He felt strong and safe, yet left you breathless when he smoothed his hand over your back. You wonder how there can be so much tension in a seemingly platonic gesture. He makes you feel like the only other person to exist, but it ends when he pulls away, and his ghost lingers over your form.

The attention is all on him when his parents see Chan arrive, proud to have gotten the family back together again. Your parents greet him the same, having once known him to be a placeholder of a son they would’ve loved to have. Everyone is joyous.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, the rest of the party or the rest of the night that matter, thinking only what he’d like underneath those clothes. As children, you’ve had your fair share of beach days, pool parties, joint family vacations to rented lake houses, but that was a time when Lee Chan wouldn’t even be considered in your dating pool. You were both children, almost like family at some point, and thinking of him in any manner besides that was icky. So, so icky.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t watch him tear off that blazer and put it away in a closet. His muscles ripple through his expensive dress shirt, sleeves pulled up to cut off at the elbows, revealing blue veins so thick and pulsing you imagine how they’d feel against your tongue at the sight of them. You lie in bed at the thought of them, overwhelmed at the pool it causes between your legs and goes to reclaim your arousal. Your digits languidly follow the trail of their escape and bite on your other pillow to muffle your ache.

Your head throws back into the duvet as you plunge two eager digits in your sopping core. The perfect arch you make goes unnoticed in your lonesome. You pleasure yourself in solitude, when in your mind one other person takes your fingers’ place.

“Cum all over me, sweet angel. I can feel you close.”

He had never uttered those words in his life, at least not you, but can hear them almost as clear as day.

Your hips slew in a circular type motion. Your moans get more curt as you bite hard into the cotton felt. Legs tense up, lifting off the bed, and hushed whimpers are all you communicate as you’re overcome with your release, taking the time for your legs to settle down. Your pulse would take a longer time to process your journey. Chan was still on your mind after all. Along with all the guilt built up from the considered betrayal you’ve made to his sister, your best friend, you were wondering if you could ever face her, or Chan, again.

“Oh my god, when was the last time we were out together like this?”

Chanmi’s enthusiasm combated your desire to hide away forever from guilt. You pick apart your burger, making sure there were no pickles as you’ve requested, and humming content as your message was received. “3-4 years. If you include that lunch, Chan took off in 10 minutes.”

The culprit chuckled, depositing a fry in his mouth. “I'm in high demand. You should be proud to be sitting so close to me.”

Chanmi snickers, shoving a nugget in his face, “Here, shove this in your pie hole.”

He happily accepts the excuse to shut up and enjoys it like it’s the most delicious thing on earth. “Yummy.”

You all laugh at his lighthearted nature and talk as if no time has passed. It’s familiar, warm, but jarring, because seeing you all united together proved that time came with age, and apparently for Chan, a new appreciation for a fully equipped gym.

He’s the same personality-wise, but you can’t help but focus on the physical. Looking at him while talking felt like he had been body swapped with some foreign adonis. You don’t forget the more stylish hair cut he sports, tapering slightly short at his sides and longer up top. He was becoming everything he meant to be.

“How’s shooting,” you curiously ask, “I’m sure it’s really exciting to be working on a bigger project like this.”

Chan took off the middle of your childhood to enroll in a boarding performing arts school. He wanted to pursue acting professionally one day, and he believed the networking and immersion of the curriculum would allow him to hone that skill. He made a pretty penny doing TV commercials in his attendance there, but his senior year he finally got cast in a small film. His mini break.

He played a minor role but got all the perks of a lead, besides the fame. He pushed himself hard to get recognized in his field of work. Corpses on criminal mind-esque shows, taking on five-minute extra characters, becoming a regular on a cable show with a beloved modest fandom, and finally now he’s done it. He was going to be a lead on an online streaming series that would be broadcasted internationally. Although, he hadn’t gotten the male love interest he strived for. He had claimed the role of the second love interest instead, and everyone always loved the second lead more than the first, he rationalized.

“It’s so exciting. Everyone is so talented and cool. I almost can't believe it.” He expresses with an excited glint in his eyes.

“It’s a big deal,” You cover his hand with yours, squeezing it affectionately. “You deserved this.”

You exchange proud smiles at each other. You wish you could feel the warmth from his lips as he lets out a quiet “thank you” as he places his over hand on top of yours. This feels too tender to be real, and you wonder how you could ever have noticed those creased smile eyes in the past.

The moment is interrupted when a text tone goes off and Chanmi claims it. “Oh, gotta go. I have a date.”

Chan rolled his eyes as his giddy sister hops out of her chair, releasing himself from your hands, and they suddenly drop cold. “Can't believe you planned a date in one of the few days I’m in town.”

Chanmi lands a quick peck on your cheeks and sticks her tongue at brother in defiance, scurrying away in a quick farewell and she’s gone behind those double doors of the restaurant. This leaves you three: you, Chan, and the impending arousal that slicks your walls for being alone with him any longer than a second.

“It’s crazy isn’t it,” Chan breaks your silence, “you guys graduating, me being in a lead. It’s so wild how far we’ve come.”

You nod, “It really is. Everything’s different now.”

“Well, besides school, what else has happened? Now’s the time to catch up.”

You hummed, “where do I start?”

Let’s see where you could start.

The moment you walk right through that front door, I cannot stop thinking about your hands on my body how you would press me up against a wall and fuck me senseless, stupid, or just straight up use me until I can’t even remember my own name. It’s been only a few days since I last saw you, but every day since then I thought about you. I touch myself to the thought you. I wondered how you would say my name. I wonder if you would say my name at all. I even wondered what you would want me to call you, if that was even necessary. For you, I would lay my body with only the purpose of fulfilling every one of your desires. I’d have myself milk you until the end of our days.

You kept that to yourself. You were ashamed those words even ran through your mind in the brief moment it did, and you held your breath. “Well, since college is over, I can focus on the internship I got into. It’s a lot less intense than I’m expecting, just waiting for that adrenaline to pick up when it does.”

“You’re so grown up. I can believe I missed that.” There’s so much tenderness and fondness in his eyes.

I could say the exact same about you.

“So, Chanmi’s dating. You seeing anyone lately?”

If I was, they’d be gone the second I saw you.

“No, not really,” you respond, averting your gaze to your drink, “college guys kind of suck if I’m being honest.”

Humor is evident as Chan stifles a laugh, wiping away the reminder of his sandwich away from his face. “That I’ve heard of. Good. You deserve more than a guy just trying to get his dick wet.”

You halt, pleasure churning in your stomach at his vulgar language, hunching over the diner table in anguish. The pool of arousal spreads further. “That’s one way to put it. And you? Anyone caught your eye?”

Please say no. For the love of god and Buddha, say no.

“No luck on my end, either.”

Fuck yes.

“Oh, well, that sucks.”

“I have had a lot of work on my hands, so I don’t really fall into the practice of dating. I guess I’m just taking things as they come”

You nod, completely aligned with him. You didn’t see the point in dating apps if its purpose was only to put you out there in the world. You did plenty of that on your own.

“And sex?” What are you doing?

He snorts, his pearly whites on display. “What about sex?”

Stop before you’re in too deep. “Are you having any?” For Christ's sake.

He bites his lip, amused, taking the last sip from his sprite before setting it aside. “At the moment, no. Why? Are you offering?”

YES.

“No,” you scratch your head, blinking in feign innocence, “just gathering intel to sell to paparazzi before you become a superstar and leave us.”

He crumbles up a napkin, a scrunched up smile on his face, before launching it at you, “You jerk. And no, I’m not fucking anyone.”

God, the way he cusses feels like drugs in my veins.

“Are you asking because you are,” he asks, “are you having sex with someone?”

There’s a sense of childish curiosity in his voice, like peers gossiping about the latest tea, but beneath it is something else. He circles his drink from his hands, eyes locked in place, mouth dropped in a way that screams ‘I dare you to answer’ and how his jaw tenses up after immediately asking, sets a fire into your inner thighs.

You let out a suffocated breath, pinching the skin of your thigh to snap you back into reality before the heat in his gaze singed your mouth shut. “Nope.”

He hums, relief grazing his harsh brows. “Not hung up on anyone?”

“No. Need an ex to be hung up with someone,” you quickly answer, before the bitter taste of regret stings your tongue.

“Interesting.”

You narrow at him. “What's so interesting about it?”

You want me. Just say it so I can lunge across this table to get to you.

“I haven’t seen you in years and you’re beautiful, smart, single. It doesn’t sound right.” He answers with a shrug.

Call me beautiful one more time. I will suck your dick right now under this table. I don’t care about being caught.

“There’s not really a reason, it’s just how it is. And maybe I’m not looking. Considered that?”

The only person I’m looking at is right in front of me—God, I can smell your cologne from here. Fuck. I want to devour you.

“Maybe, but me personally, I’d sweep you up before any guy could get the chance.” He chuckles.

Then do it. Stop teasing me.

“Chanmi would probably kill me tho. Probably say it’d ruin our dynamic.”

Oh shit. Here you were, lost in a head fogged up with lust and you hadn’t considered your best friends seeing you get shacked up with her brother. You were betraying her every second you though about her brother in a lewd sense. Although, she made no indication she’d be bothered by such a thing, but who wouldn’t? You weren’t going to let yourself off on a technicality.

“Don’t think we have much to worry about, though. I think we’ll be just fine.”

His words were like an anchor dropped in your gut. You didn’t know what was worse. Messing around with your best friend’s brother or the possibility of him rejecting the idea before it even started. You lose feelings in your legs, exhaling through your nose, and cry a little on the inside. You force an agreeing smile on your face. “Yeah. Chanmi doesn’t have to worry about anything.”

The meal comes to a close and you tell Chan you should get going home and he insists on driving. You were insane if you were going to spend another second in his presence, knowing fully well how he made you feel. He’s basically rejected you. It was over. Quit trying.

“Let me know if the AC is too cold. I can turn it down.”

You were that insane.

“All good.”

You sit in silence. The radio envelopes the air and you interlock your hands in discomfort, while Chan focuses on the road. It's not a long drive from your place, but it sure felt like it was. But it gave you all the time to reflect. You needed some of that. Maybe you could get your common sense back.

Of course, Lee Chan wasn’t going to fall for you. Not like this. Maybe if you and his sister weren't attached at the hip, it’s possible. But then again, he would be living a life of fame, the spotlight, other people way hotter and more suitable for him. Face facts.

“So, since you haven’t dated anyone, I’m assuming you’re a virgin.”

Oh. He was going to keep going.

“Um, not quite,” you chuckle nervously.

He raises a brow. “So, you lied to me.”

You shake your head, “Of course not. I’m not having sex right now with anyone or a single person consistently, if that’s what you were saying, but I’ve had sex.”

“Did you?”

Something in his tone makes you want to turn your head to his side. You don’t regret your decision seeing the whites of his knuckles as he grips the wheel. His voice may have sounded friendly, but he held himself taut, visibly restraining himself.

Oh, Chan.

“Yeah. I didn't consider them exes, just flings,” you thought to add.

“Flings.” He repeats.

You grin to yourself. “Yeah. I think a few times in high school and then a few more in college.”

“My, my. Aren’t you all grown up now?” You can almost hear him gritting his teeth, and you relished in it.

“Well, this is me.” You point at the building Chan forces himself to park at. He tightens his jaw in view, tapping the leather of the wheel in contemplation. Possibly at the revelation you’ve revealed to him. You lean in where your face comes into view, smiling an innocent smile. “Want to come in, Chan?”

You can see the dilemma in his eyes. There's a war going on his brain and either way, he was losing. Inevitably, he helps you unbuckle his seat before deciding to do the same thing to him. He plays your game with a humorless smile. “Why not?”

When you’re finally alone in the comfort of your home, it took everything in you to not jump him right then and there. His eyes scan over your living area, taking in the kick knacks, the tchotchkes you bought over time. It was as if he was rediscovering you, all of you, and for some reason, that made you more nervous than anything else. But that meant he was curious about you. He wanted to know more past what he saw as a child. He wanted to see you.

He snorts, crossing his arms, eyes finally landing on you. “I like your apartment. Am I the only guy you brought here you haven’t fucked?”

That could change.

You shrug, gallantly walking further and further away from him. “I don’t usually bring people over here. If I’m hooking up, it’s usually at their place.”

You let him watch. His eyes trained on your walk, a resisted urge tempted in every step you take. “You know that’s incredibly dangerous, right?”

“Anymore dangerous than letting them know where I live?” you retort.

He saunters over to you, side grinning in challenge. “Why are you trusting towards me?”

“Because,” you mimic his arms, “We have nothing to worry about. You said so.”

He glares down at you, taking one step closer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Whatever do you mean, friend?”

He cocks his head, “You’re really testing your luck aren’t you, Y/n?”

You shrug, an obvious grin on your face, “I’m not testing anything. Exactly what are you implying?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n. You don’t want to find out what happens.”

“That’s funny,” now you’re the one backing him in a corner, pushing him, showing him, knee his shins until his fingers grip back in the arm of a couch, saying words you only ever dared to think, “Maybe don’t be a coward and fuck me already.”

His breath noticeably hitches and drinks in your assertion and feeds you back tenfold, pushing himself off the couch and colliding your lips, and a shock of immense arousal takes over your body. Goosebumps pebble your skin and involuntarily you moan in the lip lock, taking you longer than necessary to realize that Chan has backed you against a wall.

Your hand crawls into his hair, pushing him down to deepen your kiss as his hard member prods at your stomach. Hands run down to catch him, his clothed cock in your hands, feel how the zipper of his pants constricts him from taking up any more space, and you help spring him free.

“All this fat cock all for me? Chan, you shouldn’t have,” you playfully comment.

“It's what you wanted, isn't it?” He thrusts up against you, hiking up your leg to dig into your already pulsing core. “You want me to want you. To fuck you? Is that it?”

“Yes.” You answer definitely. “I want you to want me so bad it hurts. Just as badly as I want you.”

“It’s not some addiction you have? Move on from one fuck thing to the next?” He questions, venom on his tongue. He speaks with doubt, but his body defies him, drawn to you like opposing ends of a magnet, in need of you as much as you were in need of him.

“I don’t say things I don't 100 percent mean, Chan. If I wanted to just fuck you, I’d do it already.” You squeeze around him slightly tighter, wrapping your fingers around strands of his hair harder, hearing that stuttering grunt of his to reveal itself. “There's fucking, and then there’s you, Chan. I don’t just want to fuck you. I want to worship you.”

You catch a glimpse of his reaction to your startling response before lightly shove him off of you to get on your knees, scraping them against the textured wood. Lowering yourself gave a good view of the shift in his eyes, watching how they go from pure animosity to earth shattering enthrallment. Your hands come up to his hips, fingering from the waistband of his briefs and pulling it down with his pants, just to push it aside. His cock is big, hard, veiny, perfect to push down your throat.

You wrap your fingers around his girth, fingers trailing over his veins, counting the estimated inches. Disappointment didn’t even cross your mind.

“You have such a pretty, pretty cock,” you gasp, “have you thought about it? My lips wrapped around your cock. I know I have.”

Chan’s bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth. His eyes dilate as your lips purse over the curve of his tip, kissing the slit. His mind then settles on your previous words, wondering what they entail. “Worship? With that kind of offer, I’d hate to refuse. What about you?”

“What about me?” His shaft hugs the curve of your cheek.

“If you’ll worship me, what’ll happen to you?”

Your smile stretches across your face before kissing his length between speeches. “Well, if you let me. I’ll be all yours. Your tits”—kiss—“ass,”—kiss—“your pussy,”—“your mouth. I’ll be all yours.”

Chan can’t help but smile with you. His hand finds a way to thread through your hair, getting a good angle tug, and ripping a flirtatious giggle from your lips. “I get all that? Deal of the century.”

You hum in agreement before you feel him hug the inside of your mouth, fluttering your eyes at his size. Your tongue runs along his skin, taking it calmly, slowly. You make sure you’re breathing from your nose, savoring every second.

Chan breathes out controlled breaths, boring his lust driven gaze into your presence. His cock is more than pleased in your hot, wet mouth coating him in drool Your sweet, swollen lips were like the cherry on top of sundae. They were gloriously full and glossy getting him off. “Your lips are perfect around me. And this mouth is mine, you say?”

You nod as you bob down, not expecting him to thrust inside you, flinching against the wall. He puts either hand on either side of your head, holding you in place. Your eyes shut tight, feeling him twitching in your throat before pulling out. A ribbon of translucency stretches from your lips to his head.

“My pretty, little mouth.”

There is a darkness in which he stares at you, like releasing of pandora’s box. He was lost in power, greed, filth. Whatever it was, you were ready for more and you didn’t mind what it took. He pets your hair, dragging his fingers from root to tips, saying his scary final words before he fills your cheeks more with his cock. “Cherish that last breath. You’ll need it.”

Your head stays pinned to the wall, cock plunged in your mouth, the view of Chan’s unfailing erection and groin the only sight you’re able to take in this moment of suffocation. He wasn’t slow with it and he didn’t plan to be. Groaning, his hips push in your mouth, the back of your head hitting the wall behind you with every thrust, and the length flossing the pipe of your throat. You become a makeshift version of a glory hole. Your hands steady themselves on his hips until they are forced to pin above your head.

You wretch at his sheer force, but take every inch. Your tears burn your cheeks, feeling the tremble of your limbs. You cough, gag, swallowing him as you’re pushed past your normal limits and finally meet the base of his cock. He rams in you, lips to lap, mouth stretched and sore. Full didn’t even begin to describe how it felt for him to fuck your mouth like this.

He shows mercy when he feels close, thrusting in all the way and holds in your mouth for an exact five seconds until he lets you go. Your saliva and his pre-cum dribble all over your chin and neck, but a dazed smile on your face despite the mess. A hand to your neck, he pulls you up from the ground, pressing you full bodily back in the wall.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty fucking whore.” he hisses.

His hand invades the depths of your pants. Your sopping folds are easy to find as they coat his fingers like syrup, sweet and thick. “Pussy’s mine, hmm? Ass too?”

“Yes. yes, take all of me.” You impulsively part your legs, the gateway of your throat closing up as his grip gets tights. All the stars you were seeing shined brighter than the stars in the damn sky.

Chan tugs off your bottoms, throws it aside like garbage and lifts you on top of a kitchen counter. The cool marble stings your ass cheeks but you hardly notice as Chan nose deep in your pussy. His fingers dig deeper, tongue flicking starved at your entrance. “Sweet Jesus, you’re fucking wet. Fucking dripping down my arm.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Chan.” Your leg hangs off his shoulder, feeling light as his tongue makes himself home in your warmth. “I want you, every part of you.”

They were more than enough words of encouragement as he’s lost in your thighs. The curve of his lips suck on your clit, eliciting a moan and would forever be ingrained to every wrinkle of his brain. His fingers–now down to his knuckles–traveling you at an unforgivable pace. He makes it known that he’d give you what you want, anything and everything in between, but he wouldn’t give you his patience.

His hand comes down at you hard on the center of your core, rubbing between every strike as he licks deep stripes, causing your whines of ache to grow louder. “More, Chan please. Touch my pussy more, like that.”

Your pain receptors could usually take so much pain, but with Chan, you’d sacrifice your nerves just to have him cum covering every inch of your body.

Swiftly, he reveals his upper body. Taut, firm muscles, packed in every region. Gleaming with sweat, his honey glazed abs flexes from the tension in his stomach. God, it was better than you ever imagined.

You watch as his strong arms pull you closer in his mouth. He latches on you like a leech, draw circles, finger fucking you until you’re drawing out his name in short bursts. Your jaw drops slack, clenching around his tongue, and pressing himself against you until you’re close. Oh, so close.

He pulls off at the worst moment and before you could protest, you taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling him pull off your blouse in the process. Tits in either of his hands, he roughly squeezes them, pinching tight at your stiff peaks enough for you to let out high pitched screeches. “Chan hurts!”

“Good.” He takes one in his mouth, nibbling one in his teeth before pinching the other one just as hard as before. You’re stuck between pain and pleasure, but as liquid escapes past your legs and the victor is clear.

“My tits…taste so sweet…like honey.” he mumbles.

You feel loved, worshiped, wet. You were wrapped around his finger, and if you get to be soe lucky, he’d feel that same way about you. After he’s done swelling your skin, he’s escorting you to what clearly is your room despite the first time of him being there and he dumps you on the bed.

“Ass in front, right now.”

Promptly, you do as he says, getting on all fours on the bed, lifting your ass welcome for him to take.

“Spread wider. I want to see that pretty pussy.”

Your legs naturally part further, the pigment of your sensitive flesh clear on display. Chan takes initiative. Putting himself between your divide, his tongue finding that familiar sweetness he parted with only a few minutes ago. “You taste so fucking good. I forgot all about saying that while in there earlier. You seem to do that to me.”

His hands come over the flesh of your ass, the sting of his hand is momentary before his tongue’s presence takes over, tasting you, inhaling you delicious scent, “Condom?” He manages to breathe out.

You shake your head, perspiration trailing your forehead. “But I’m clean, and on the pill. Like I said, you can do anything with me.”

Chan is blown over with a sense of relief, fishing his erection before lining up at your slit. He takes full strokes inside you, achingly slow, and you quiver at the fullness but whine when you’re immediately empty. He does that repeatedly, giving you the sensation before he rips it from you in mere seconds.

Yo pound your frustrated fists in the mattress. “Chan give me your cock… I want you please..”

“Really, Is it me you want?” He teases, “Or it is my cock fucking so deep in your pussy you feel it in your mouth?”

Vivid images in your head, you shudder at the depth of his now husky voice, “I want that from you. Only you. Please, I want you to cum in me…”

“Shit.” Hearing that made close already. “F-fine. Just shut the fuck up.”

He thrust in you, finding a pace to reside in. His mouth makes an o-shape at the clench of your wall. “Fuck wet pussy,”—slap—“wet, tight. All for me.”

Chan recalling your moans laced with ecstasy. Hearing you, watching the recoil of your ass hitting his lap, it was something he could get used to, but he could try. He forces his knees on the bed, pushing deeper inside you. He finds your hair before pulling, pushing you into to the mattress and muffling your moans until they melt into an oblivion.

“That reminds me,” he thinks to bring up, not minding the fact you were drowning in the duvet, “what is it you like being called?”

You muffle a response but if you were being honest, you could hardly think with his weight pushed back into you.

“Come on. What is it? Pick your poison.” He slows his pace, a hard, deep stroke taken with every term of endearment, “Baby? Sweetheart? Angel?”

You moan, but not enough.

He blinks, thinking it’s going somewhere when a light bulb goes up in his head. “Mmh, let's try this then. Clench harder, slut.”

You moan even louder, immediately following his command. He then pounds harder in you, lacking any clear remorse as his language becomes grunts, calling you ‘slut’, ‘whore,’ ‘fuckhole,’ every name in the book until you buck at his hips.

Shake as hard as an earthquake, saying his name, speaking your orgasm into existence. It’s all you feel as your vision becomes further away from the comprehensive. You become a lifeless body that takes every second as if you never would again, collapsing on the bed.

Chan, a man with solutions, flips you on your back. A leg of yours comes up on his chest, ankle over his shoulder and he bottoms out inside you, another tidal wave that jumpstart your adrenaline. “I’m not fucking done with you yet. You said you’d be mine and you will be for as long as I want.”

Your leg takes his side as he folds into you, lips messily meeting yours, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, he takes you even deeper and your way to feel can't be described as anything else but bliss. You caress his face, while his hand reconnected with your neck. You’re trailing down to feel down his torso, the pads of his fingers pushing against the column of your neck tighter. Life leaving your body, you count each ab, cup each peck, palm over each stiff peak, and trace over each muscle. If you could leave earth by this method, you would. Your voice is raspy, but takes no break from praising him.

“You’re fucking my pussy so good, feel so fucking good in my hands. Don’t. Fucking. Stop.”

“You like that,” kissing you in a curt repetitive action, sweeter than intended, “can you take…my…cum?”

“Yes,” you frantically nod, “cum in me. I want all your cum in me. Breed me please. I want you, only you, to fuck me, empty out in me, and repeat.”

His load is as warm as a home cooked meal, shooting in you, jerking into your body in a well-practiced motion. His body embraces you, closing in on you, while he tucks you in tight. You only remember the smile on his face when he cums. It looks like love in his eyes, warmth, and you are positive that that’s what it is because you're looking at him the same way. It feels like a perfect happy ending.

But nothing is over until Chan says it is over.

That day turned into night before you know it and all you’ve done is be in each other arms and fucking your shared cum back into places they belong. Despite the performance, Chan ended up being a gentleman, asking you where your spare clean towels were and helping you clean up the mess you’ve made. All the time and energy drained you both and with the lack of motivation to cook, you both called food to be delivered.

In an attempt to be presentable, you take the shirt he once wore and display it on yourself, his scent enveloping you like it were his embrace. That meant Chan had to walk around topless, and by George, that was quite the sight. You join him on the couch. His arm slings over your side, tenderly kissing your face as you feel up his body. You couldn’t help but grin like a love stricken puppy, memorizing every dent of every chiseled muscle, appreciating its entirety. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Chan hums, before muffling a thanks and taking your kiss-swollen lips in his. “I think you’re sexy.”

You giggle, reciprocating, already finding yourself straddling his lap, and that erection that’s already gone and inflated himself. This man had it all didn’t he?

Then it dawned on you. Maybe too late, but it did.

You part from him, eyes furrowed in worry.

Concern is written all over his face, and he curls your hair behind his ear, “what’s wrong?”

“What are we going to do about Chanmi?”

His expression soon matches yours as he sighs. His hand comes behind your head, kissing foreheads, and curls up in a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for us.”

“And If she isn’t?”

His hands tighten on the fabric of the shirt. “She’ll just have to.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“And she’s my sister. And I’m her only brother. We are two people she cares about and we’re happy together. Why wouldn’t she be happy?”

Your lips curl up in a small smile. “We’re together?”

His smile reaches his eyes. “I don’t think I’d spend all day like this with you if we weren’t.”

You kiss him, chaste and slow, and letting go before the heat travels back to your head, fogging your rationale. “I like you a lot, Chan.”

“I like you a lot, Y/n.”

“What about your career?”

He rolls his eyes, filling rubbing circles in your hips. “Why? Scared this superstar will run away from you for his chance in the spotlight?”

You grin mischievously, “No, aren’t you worried I’ll outshine you on the red carpet? I’ll be your date for every one of them now.”

“Then they’ll have no choice but to put me in everything under the sun.” He grins back.

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emmyrosee · 10 months

Note

Domestic life w Suna is living in my head rent-free 40 hours a day

Bro it’s all I ever think about.

I feel like he’s just such a domestic loser, he craves and loves the simplicity of life loving you, it’s easy and it’s warm and it’s stable.

Like I just so enjoy imagining mornings. Mornings just being in love with him. He probably gets up a bit earlier than you on weekends to make you some breakfast, letting you sleep in a little bit more. Sometimes, you come into the kitchen, watching as his lean, shirtless body scuttles around the kitchen making whatever he can whip up.

Other times, you’re not awake, and it’s his time to shine.

“Baaaaaabe,” he whispers, voice pitched purposely loud, and it from under the sheets, it makes you grunt and burrow deeper. “Breakfast is ready, and I’m not waiting for you.”

“Go away,” you grumble. You’re too tired to deal with him, and rintaro knows this, but you’re not allowed to have a moment of peace when dating him.

Because he hates you.

“But baaaaabe,” he hisses again, before sprawling on top of you and squishing you to the bed. You whine as the compression forces giggles out, and your face buries deeper into the pillow to try and hide your smile. “I worked soooooo hard on it… and it’s gonna get coooooold.” As if on cue, cold hands slip under your shirt and have you yelping in surprise, “and I’m so hungryyyyy.”

“So eat,” you say, trying to hide your smile as best as you can. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“E-fucking-scuse you,” he snips playfully. "I know I said that, but how dare you reiterate it?"

"Rintaro, I can't breathe."

"You're talking, you're fine." He nips your ear and smirks at the little squeak you let out. "Do you like Pringles?"

"What?"

"I think later I’m gonna get Pringles."

You laugh into the pillow, and he bites his lip to try and hide his own laughter, "Rin, what the fuck?"

He worms his face between your hiked shoulder and neck, getting as close to your face as he can. "I'm gonna pick your nose if you don't get up."

You laugh again, but your struggling under him gets stronger, "leave me alone!"

"Am I gonna stick my pinky up your nose, or are we gonna go eat the breakfast I slaved over?" He starts laughing when you whip your head to the side to try and get away. "Your decision."

"Fine!" You giggle, turning your head to look at him. As innocent as ever, he plants an affectionate kiss to your nose before pushing off of you and letting you sit up just after. "I'm leaving you."

"Like hell you are," he snorts, leaning over to give you a proper kiss, which you return happily.

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tacticaldiary · 6 months

Note

You are so talented?? Hells bells!!! could I please request Simon Riley x Wife!Reader where Simon is “pronounced dead” for a mission and it has to seem real enough so like price shows up to your shared home and hands over dog tags? And then like months later he shows up at the house and they reunir?! Like all just very very sad and very comfort/ hurt??

please and many thanks , sugarbean

Till Death Do Us Apart

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"Love..." He finally breathes out, and she realises that she hasn't said a word in a full minute.

The single word tears a gasp out of her throat, makes her take a small step back. The rasp of his voice, the scent of him as she breathes in...

It's him.

Death itself couldn't stop him from crawling home to her.

Masterlist

Song: I, Carrion (Hozier)

It's funny how fragile the illusion of safety and content is.

Her life had seemed so unshakable, so sure and sturdy and promised. She'd fought for what she had with her husband, made a home with him, gone through years and bumps and ups and downs all because the chance of having him was better than giving up without ever having tried.

Truth be told, she'd never really liked the silence of their home when she was the only one living in it. Simon had asked her a couple times if she got lonely, whether it was too much. He'd asked her about it pretty much every time he packed up and left for a mission halfway across the world. Brows furrowed and voice lilted in concern late at night with his arms around her.

He's met with her smile and a reassurance that the silence was worth his arrival back home. Distance makes the heart go fonder, doesn't it?

And so Simon took it in stride, let the knowledge settle the creep of doubt in his heart beacuse this? Them?

It was more than he'd ever hoped for himself.

Never did he think he'd be the reason someone smiled at him like she did, not once did he consider himself one to want something so cliche as a home until she came around with her warmth and promises of unshakable devotion.

And God had he tried to shake her off. His indifference had only fuelled her determination to worm her way under the cracks of his armour. Once she'd reached inside and pulled out a part of himself he'd long thought was killed by 'Ghost', Simon had found himself letting go of his carefully crafted distance and crumbling under her hands. The best decision of his life.

It's why his breathing is ever so ragged as he watches Price console his hysterical wife from afar, a pair of bloody dog tags with his name engraved in them clutched in her shaking hand.

Simon Riley. Deceased.

If he didn't feel like his world was off kilter he might have made a joke about how it's the second time.

Simon barely manages to hold himself back from running to her, to their home, their bed. It's his instinct to protect, and right now seeing Price let her clutch onto him in grief, everything in Simon is telling him to go, to run and hold her, console her, assure her that he hasn't broken his promise of coming home to her.

It had been a vow whispered against her lips in the dead of night after she'd aired out her fear under the light of the moon. The fear of losing him. Of opening the door to Price instead of him.

Just a few months, he repeats in his head over and over again, because it's the only thing keeping his legs from moving. Just a few months and he can fix this, go back to how everything was. He feels like a jackass, making her go through this, but there was no other option.

And fuck if he hadn't tried to argue.

Death itself couldn't stop him from crawling home to her.

But his line of work could.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Four months and it still feels like yesterday.

Nothing felt...right anymore.

She felt guilty sitting at the kitchen table where the use to eat together, the sheets on their...her. On her bed had long since lost the subtle scent of him. The living room where she'd curl up in his lap, snicker at him complaining about her choice of movie even when the bastard was just as enraptured and into it and she was.

Everything felt off.

She sets down the half eaten plate of food in the fridge and swallows down the lingering emotion.

When she'd opened the door that day, she very nearly slammed it back shut.

It seemed surreal. Her Simon, her untouchable husband gone in the line of fire. An accident, Price had phrased it as.

She missed him so much it fucking hurt.

Taking a deep breath, she grabs the shopping list she'd scrawled last week onto the fridge and tucks it in her pocket. The dog tags clink against each other around her neck, tucked into her sweater as she moves.

It had taken weeks for her to even look at them.

The doorbell cuts the search for her car keys short.

It's been a while since she's seen anybody, really. Her friends come over every now and then to keep her company, bring her homemade foods and gifts to cheer her up and it does work, but only for a few hours. She appreciates it, she really does, but the small periods of relief are only followed by the guilt of trying to forget and the pain of remembering all over again.

She'd tell them to come back later, she decides. Today was worse a day than usual and she's not in the mood-

Simon.

Simon...?

Her knuckles pale with the grip she has on the doorknob, it's all she can do to stare up at the figure that she only held in her dreams nowadays.

He's so familiar, with that hair she loved to rake her hands through, the slight downturn of his lips, the scars that scatter across his face that she loves to trace in the dark. He's looking down at her with brown eyes so tortured and serious, and...and a little anxious?

This is a cruel joke.

Here he is, bare faced in front of her just like how she'd dreamed about for all those weeks. How often had she cried at night, hoped that this was all a joke and she'd pull open the door to him one more time?

But he wasn't here, was he? No, there was no way. Her fingers touch cool metal and distantly she realises she's clutching onto the piece of himself he left behind, looped around her neck.

"Love..." He finally breathes out, and she realises that she hasn't said a word in a full minute.

The single word tears a gasp out of her throat, makes her take a small step back. The rasp of his voice, the scent of him as she breathes in...

It's him.

Something akin to a sob tears its way out of her throat as she lunges towards him, tangles her hands in the fabric of his uniform. She only cries harder when his arms circle around her just as tightly, crushing her to his chest.

"You...you're home?" She manages to push out between stuttered intakes of breaths and sobs. "No, you're...you were-"

"I'm here." He hooks his chin over her head, sways her a little from side to side. If she hadn't been trembling she would have noticed the slight shake of his hands. "Said I'd always come back to you, didn't I?" He walks them backwards, shuts the door with his foots.

"You died!" She exclaims, choking on the words as she pulls back, not far but enough to meet his own red eyes. "You died, I thought you died-"

"Mission," He rushes out, "For a mission, yeah? Wouldn't ever leave you alone-"

"You did!" She suddenly pulls away from him barely out of his grasp and it takes everything in Simon's willpower not to pulls her back in.

Beneath the worry and the grief and the sadness, there's a hint of running anger.

"Four months, I thought you were...were dead." She wipes away her tears, still crying but angry. "And you show up now? Just like that? What the fuck, Simon I thought I was a widow!"

"I'm sorry." It's all he can say. It's pathetic and desperate and he feels frustrated and angry at everyone and himself but it's all he can say to her and he'll repeat it as many times as possible.

They stare at each other for a second, grieving and angry and crushed and hopeful...

And she falls back into him with the promise of an explanation later on, a tangle of limbs, muttered apologies and kisses.

Not because she forgives him. Not because she's willing to brush past it and move on, but because this crushing wave of relief feels better than the last four months of suffering. Because they'll always find their way back to each other.

Because she has her husband back, in one piece, and for the first time in months...

Something in her life clicks back into place.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(20/10/2023)

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estrellami-1 · 3 months

Text

The Easiest Thing (I’ve Ever Done)

Had an idea. I don’t know if it’s anything, or if it makes any sense, but I like it. I hope y’all do too!

The camera’s shaky, moving from Eddie trying to place his phone down, making sure to keep his face in frame. “Baby,” he sings, looking off-camera. “Would you peel me an orange?”

A slight pause before, “Hypothetical or literal?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh. Literal?”

“How many do you want?”

Eddie gapes. “Just- just like that? No teasing? Nothing about me being capable? Nothing at all?”

“It’s an orange, babe. ‘S not like me carrying you out of-”

Eddie scrambles for his phone, and the video cuts off.

It picks up again later. They’re in the living room now, and Eddie’s filming Steve, who had just asked him a question. “Say it again.”

“Say-?”

“The question you just asked me. Ask me again.”

Steve gestures to the TV. “We just watched 50 First Dates, Eds, I don’t think it’s crazy of me to ask if you’d do that for me.”

“Stevie. Baby. Light of my life. Look me in my eyes and ask me again. But before you do, think about two years ago when you got a concussion and the resulting short-term amnesia.”

Steve closes his eyes and leans his head back with a groan. “I’m an idiot.”

“Are not,” Eddie says hotly, and the video cuts off again.

It picks up again later. It’s dark in the room, and Eddie’s got his finger to his lips, as if he’s telling the audience to be quiet. “Say that again, baby?”

Steve mumbles something unintelligible, then, “The elephant’s back.”

“Yeah? What’s it doing?”

The camera moves to focus on Steve’s face. He’s clearly still asleep, even as he frowns. “He’s proposing. ‘S my job.”

“Your job?”

“Mhm. ‘M gonna do it.” Another frown. “Screw you, elephant.”

The camera jumps to Eddie, who’s got a hand covering his mouth. The video cuts off again.

It picks up again later. Eddie’s in the same position as the first part of the video. There’s background sounds—rushing water and clanking porcelain—that means Steve’s washing dishes.

“I feel like you’re mad at me.”

The clanking stops. The water shuts off. “What?”

Eddie shrugs. “You’ve been kinda tense ever since I got home.”

“Baby,” Steve whispers. “No. No, I’m not mad at you. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. I’ve just got a lot in my head right now.”

Eddie nods. “Can I help?”

Steve hums. “You can listen.”

Eddie smiles. “I can do that.”

“Okay, cool.” The water turns back on. “So I was talking to Robin earlier-”

The video cuts off again.

It picks up again later. They’re back on the couch, but this time Steve’s engrossed in a book, lips silently moving as he reads. “Baby.”

“Hm?”

“You mouth the words to yourself when you read.”

Steve flushes scarlet. “Shuddup.”

“No!” Eddie laughs. “No, I love it! It’s adorable!”

“You don’t.” He sniffs, but does nothing to hide the smile on his face. “It’s not.”

“It is,” Eddie argues back, camera jumping around as he shifts to sit up. “And I’ll prove it.”

“Yeah? How?”

“Uh. That part I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out!”

“Mhm.” Steve’s lips twitch up at the corners.

“I’m serious.”

“Mhm.”

“I love every part of you.”

Steve’s smile softens into something lovesick. “I know.”

“Especially the parts you don’t like.”

Steve groans and covers his face with the book, and Eddie chuckles as he turns the camera off.

The last time it picks up, Steve’s the one setting it up. “Babe?” He calls.

“Yeah?”

“Would you love me if I was a worm?”

“If you were a worm?”

“Yeah. Would you love me.”

Eddie walks into frame to grab Steve’s hands and hold them. “My darling,” he murmurs, “I fall more in love with you every day. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done and the easiest decision I’ll ever make. And I make it every day, I have for years now. If you were a worm, I’d build you the best little worm house. I’d do all the research and find out what you can eat, and I’d always have that. I’d learn to speak worm so I could talk to you.” He lifts one of Steve’s hands to his lips. “If you were a worm? Baby, I’d love you more than any worm’s ever been loved before.”

“Oh,” Steve squeaks.

Eddie presses a brief kiss to his lips before pulling away. “Why don’t you turn the camera off and come join me upstairs?”

Steve gapes even as he reaches for his phone. “You absolute asshole-”

“I meant every word, baby. Let me show you how much?”

Steve flounders, and the video cuts off for the last time.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #modern au #fluff #everything’s beautiful and nothing hurts #amen #is it at all obvious this is supposed to be a TikTok vid?#please keep in mind I am not Cool or Hip to today’s happenings #my younger brother explained ‘rizz’ to me and I had an actual physical reaction #literally how do I tag this #starambles

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 month

Text

Ice Cream Date » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Mom/Girlfriend!Reader with daughter Mia

Summary: Bucky takes his favorite girls out for ice cream.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, Bucky being the best father figure, hugs and kisses, use of nicknames/pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Guess who.” Bucky says, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

You smiled and turned around. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. Bucky’s hand found their way to your waist and pulled you against his body. Bucky just got home from a week long mission.

“I missed you so much.” You say against his lips.

“I missed you more.” He says.

“Someone else also missed you.” You tell him.

Bucky knew you were talking about your daughter. Your 4 year old daughter Mia became Bucky’s little light of life. Even though she’s not his biological daughter, he treats her like his own daughter. He loves her with all of his heart. He’d do anything for you and your little girl.

You two went to Mia’s bedroom to see her coloring in one of her many coloring books on the floor. You and Bucky sat on the floor in front of her.

“What are you doing, sweetie?” You asked her.

“Coloring.” Mia says, not looking up from her coloring book.

“Can you look at me please?” You asked.

Mia looks up, her eyes went wide and a canyon fell out of her hand when she seen Bucky.

“Bucky!” She squeals and hugs him, almost tackling him to the floor. “I missed you a lot!” She tells him.

“I missed you too, princess.” Bucky says, kissing the side of her head.

Mia looked up at Bucky and told him about the good things she did while he was on the mission. Bucky listened with the look of adoration on his face. You watched and listened with a smile on your face.

“That’s amazing, princess.” He smiles at her. “I think I should take my girls on an ice cream date. What do you think?” He asks.

Mia nodded her head eagerly. You two smiled at her excitement. Bucky helped her put her shoes and jacket on. You guys went to an ice cream shop that was across the street from the park that Mia loves to play at after school almost everyday which is down the street from the apartment complex you guys live in. Bucky held Mia in his arms so she could get a closer look at the menu.

“What would you like, princess?” Bucky asks her.

Mia studied the menu for a moment and finally found what she wants to get.

“Can I get that one please?” Mia asks curiously, point at the menu while looking at Bucky.

Mia was pointing at a picture of a cup of ice cream with gummy bears, gummy worms, and marshmallows as toppings.

“Yes you can.” He tells her.

Bucky orders for Mia. Then you and Bucky ordered. You guys sat down at a table and Bucky listened to more about the good things Mia did while he was on the mission.

“At daycare, the teachers got new paints and colored paper for painting!” Mia tells Bucky.

“That sounds really cool. You have to paint me something.” Bucky says.

“Can I paint something for uncle Stevie?” She asks.

“Of course you can. I’m sure that he’ll love whatever you paint for him.” He says with a smile.

“I paint something for mommy too!” She says with a smile and looked at you.

“I’m looking forward to it, sweetie.” You say with a smile.

Mia was telling you and Bucky more about the new supplies the daycare got while eating her ice cream.

“I ate all of my ice cream. Can I play at the park?” Mia asks.

“Yes you can.” You say.

You cleaned the excess ice cream off her face before you and Bucky took her to the park. Excitement took over Mia when you guys got to the park. She immediately ran to the slides. The slides are one of her favorite.

“Mommy! Bucky! Watch me!” Mia says, climbing up the ladder to the slide.

You and Bucky watched as Mia slid down the slide. You two smiled at her excitement when she got to the bottom.

“That was so good, sweetie!” You say.

Mia smiles widely and went down the slide a few more times and then begged Bucky to push her on the swings.

“You ready, princess?” Bucky asks Mia after she got on the swing.

“Yes!” She says excitedly.

Bucky didn’t push her too high cause both of you didn’t want her to get hurt if she fell off the swing somehow. After a while, Mia wanted you to push her on the swing. Another few minutes go by when it started to get dark.

“It’s getting dark, sweetie. It’s time to go home.” You tell Mia.

“No!” Mia whines. “I don’t want to leave yet!” She pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Mia…” Bucky warns her. “Listen to mommy.” He says.

Mia grumbled before getting off the swing and went up to Bucky, reaching her arms up and did grabby hands, wanting him to carry her which he happily did.

“Change into your pajamas and I’ll read you a bedtime story.” Bucky says to Mia.

“Ok, Bucky!” Mia says, running to her bedroom.

Bucky took off his jacket and tossed it on the couch before placing his hands on your waist, pulling you against his body and gave you a kiss. You two smiled against each other’s lips.

“Yucky!” Mia shouts, making you two laugh and pull away from each other. “That’s how you get cooties!” She says.

“How do you know about cooties, little miss?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My friends at daycare said that when a boy and a girl kiss they get cooties.” She explains.

“I’m a Super Soldier, princess. I can’t get cooties.” Bucky says.

“How do you know that you don’t have cooties right now?” She asks.

“I just know, sweetheart.” He picks her up. “Enough about cooties. It’s story time!” He says, carrying her to her bedroom.

While Bucky tucked Mia in bed and read her a bedtime story, you got ready for bed. You then walked down the hallway to Mia’s bedroom and leaned against the doorframe, smiling as you listened to Bucky read Mia her favorite bedtime story.

“And they lived happily ever after.” Bucky shut the book and put it on her nightstand. “Goodnight, princess.” He says softly, kissing the top of her head and adjusted her blankets.

Bucky turned on Mia’s night light before around to see you standing in the doorway with a smile on your face. He put his finger against his lips, telling you to be quiet as he gently backed you out of the doorway and closed the door behind him.

“You’re an amazing father figure to Mia.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m happy to be that person for her.” Bucky leans down and kissed you passionately. “You know…” He kisses you again. “We should have a baby of our own.” He says.

“Mmm, I was thinking the same thing.” You say, kissing him.

“Let’s get to it then, babydoll.” He says.

Bucky picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, a squeak left your lips. He dropped you on the bed and locked the door. He got on the bed and hovered over you.

“You better be quiet, doll.” He says, leaning down to kiss you hungrily.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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itsthatmff · 4 months

Note

How would opm saitama, genos, and garou react to having an monster female s/o but is very docile and kind and just wants to live a normal life and has a human disguise

This ones so cute o mah gad immediately had to do it

Opm guys with a Monster S/O

Included: Genos, Saitama, Garou

fem!reader

Requests are open !!

Genos

Very wary about you at first

The first time you two meet is around noon at the Ghost town of city Z when he returns from getting groceries for Saitama.

In an alleyway he hears a commotion and goes to check it out when he sees that there are two monsters getting into a fight.

Of course he immediately goes into combat mode thinking that you two could be a threat for the citizens.

But it’s when you save him from that other monster you were fighting with that he’s completely startled.

“So not all monsters are driven by malice…interesting..”

He feels a connection between the two of you and can relate very much as you two have had similar experiences before with not fitting in to society due to not being full humans.

is VERY intrigued and interested by you therefore he decides to stick by your side to analyze your art and nature for research purposes. Those hangout’s eventually turn into dates.

He likes you both in your human and monster form and encourages you to like every part about yourself too.

Will support you 100% in wanting to lead a normal life and fit in with the humans. Even though his knowledge about what humans his age do is very limited as well he tries to teach you what he knows.

“I have heard that it is quite popular around young people to visit crepe shops. Shall we try them?”

Honestly best bf to ever have. Will love you even if you’re a worm. (Doesn’t show it a lot though)

Saitama

I’m telling y’all this guy DOES NOT CARE wether you’re human or not.

He saved you in your human form once (some monsters attacked you because they could tell from your smell that you were a monster as well) and thought you were so attractive from the get-go.

He did have his suspicions as he could sense a different kind of aura from you but did not question it.

A week into dating it was that you came clear to him about your “true form”, already expecting that he’d immediately break up with you.

“Oh really? Yeah that’s calm.”

Doesn’t feel betrayed or alarmed because he’s known you for long enough to tell that you were a good person, monster or not.

He does ask you random questions sometimes though

“So like..do you eat human flesh? Monster flesh? No? Oh okay.”

“Is it true that you turn into your true form every full moon? You’re telling me only werewolves do that?? Geez I was just asking..”

Whenever you feel insecure he reassures you and comforts you.

Always takes you out to go grocery shopping with him because he can tell that you enjoy doing regular things such as these.

Gets judged big time by Genos for dating you but he doesn’t care.

Garou

Thought of you as his rival/opponent for the longest time.

Whenever he’d see you around in your human form he could sense this aura coming from you assuming that you were a strong fighter when not knowing that you simply were a monster.

He’d bother you every time and ask you for a fight and every time you’d have to kindly decline saying that you had no idea how to fight.

“Don’t lie to me I can sense that you’re powerful. One fight won’t hurt ya cmon..”

Around the 6th time you came across him you decided to just come straight with the truth.

“So you’re telling me..you’re a monster..but ya dont fight?”

Is hella confused but just rolls with it. He decides to stick by your side just for the sake of it. And he couldn’t deny that you were absolutely gorgeous at that.

Would ask you out in the most blunt and straightforward way.

You’d both be talking about how it was so hard for you to find any love interests because most of the human guys would get scared if they were to find out you’re a monster

Which he would straight up answer with “why dont you date me then?”

Very overprotective boyfriend. He prefers you in your monster form actually and encourages you to just be yourself but the moment ANYONE dares to give you a wrong look he’ll beat them to a pulp

Even when you’re in your human form he just assumes that people might stare at you because they know you’re a monster so he cusses at them (he isn’t the smartest guy out there)

Doesn’t really know what personal space is so he will be all up in your business as a monster and a human.

#one punch man #garou #genos #genos one punch man #genos x reader #headcanons #opm genos #garou opm #garou x reader #genos x y/n #saitama x reader #saitama one punch man #saitama opm #saitama #garou x y/n #one punch man garou #garou headcanons

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steviewashere · 2 months

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Rhetorics and Bad Days

Rating: General CW: None apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has a Bad Time, Steve Harrington is an Ugly Crier, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Forehead Kisses, Slight Love Confessions, Getting Together (Sorta Kinda/More Implied Afterwards)

Tripped and fell last night and wrote 3.2k words. Inspired by @scoops-aboy86 idea and my stupid little headcanon from this post!

💕—————💕

It seems like everyday was a bad day when you were somebody like Steve Harrington. Considering the good majority of his life the last four years, give or take, has been a cartwheel of nightmares and torture and blood and injuries—And, well. Obviously he has bad days.

Though, typically, it can be resolved and done over with a hot shower, maybe some stupid movie that he honk-laughs at, a warm blanket and a freshly dried pillowcase. Little things. Little good things that are able to calm him some, at least. Give him something else to think of, at most. He doesn’t have to do anything like cry or breakdown or yell until his voice is hoarse, that’s what he tells himself. Because, what’s been ingrained in his head, men don’t cry. Men don’t get hysterical. Men don’t break that emotional mold.

Though those words are definitely booming and deep and flat like his dad’s. That’s not his brain. Those aren’t his words. But it sure as hell is what he’s been exposed to for far too long.

And maybe that’s why, standing in the barren living room of his brand new (albeit worn down, caulked heavily, all too warm) apartment, he finds the rhetoric silenced. In a fresh space. With crooked blinds and awfully filled tack holes. A kitchen fit for a (former) king. Little breakfast nook that only allows for two dining chairs under the south facing windows. Barely any sunlight able to stream through. His bedroom cramped with just a queen sized mattress placed haphazardly on the floor, definitely crushing some well-loved Playboy magazines, crooked to the wall at his head because the movers carrying it were too tired from the recently odd mid-fall heat, and a decently sized freshly made spiderweb in the corner—he shivers at the thought of something alive and crawling watching him sleep at night. And the glorious bathroom—preemptively marked with darkened piss stains on the floor and a smell birthed from over-indulgence on alcohol.

It’s his, though. Well, his and Eddie’s.

Eddie has his own bedroom, similar size to Steve’s (think of a shoebox used to bury that poor hamster from your youth, dead from eating too many baseball cards), ceiling light stained with god worshipping moths, and a window that half-opens if he jiggles it the right way. They share that grimy bathroom. And he brought the living room couch, something that had been sitting on his and Wayne’s back porch for some time, definitely a little mud stained and mildew smelling from rain, but it’s not the worst. Not the best. Not even good. But it’s their space, freed from the confines of Hawkins, new and shiny for all of Indianapolis to see.

The rhetoric is gone in Steve’s brain. Like skin shed from his sunburned body. Peeling and crackling to every surface he finds himself on or leaning against or standing with. It evades him. Leaves him with something viciously young and terribly hungry.

Steve Harrington is prone to bad days. Bad weeks. Bad things.

The unfortunate luck begins anew an exact week from when they move in.

October 20th, 1986 is his first day back at Family Video. He’d been transferred, referred much to Keith’s dismay, but probably his pleasure, too. (Considering how immediate his response had been to Steve’s question.) But it was his first day back. Didn’t need to be trained. Just hooked like a fish to deceased worm bait, thrown out to the river that is their block’s neighbors and strangers and mere acquaintances that feel no better or worse about having new people take residency on their street, but he’s also not reeled back in at the end of his shift. If anything, he’s tangled in his own wire, flopping, gasping for water, drying to the gravel by the shallow give of the river’s flow. He is stranded behind the register. Returning customers telling him he should know what they like, or what discount they need, or how many movies they’ve checked out previously. That he should know that a particular customer is friends with the owner of the Family Video he so sorely resides in. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. So he makes do. He powers through it. Feigns mundane annoyance like gum flavorless between his teeth, though he’s biting his tongue to not sob.

That’s not where the bad ends. No. Of course not.

He’s within walking distance to their apartment. Which should be fine. In fact, it’s incredibly handy because even if he were running late to work, he could blame it on something stupid. (‘My key broke off in the lock, had to bother the landlord.’ ‘Yeah, had a leak in the bathroom this morning, have to report it just in case it tries to flood the downstairs neighbors.’ ‘It’s odd, seems like the lock loves to devour my keys.’ Nervous laughter.) But just because he’s within walking distance does not mean that life is plainly simple. No, what happens is he gets soaked with dirty road rain water. Was it mentioned that it’s been raining all day? No? Well, it has been. And it’s a downpour. Forecast said it would happen tonight, not midday, not while he’s trying to power walk home so he can make the peanut butter and jelly sandwich of his dreams. But it does. Because of course. And some asshole, screaming out their window to tell him that he should’ve worn a raincoat, speeds by. Coating him from collarbone to toe in the mucky rainwater of a city that’s too busy for a place like bumfuck Indiana. At least in Hawkins everybody knows your name; at least they have the common decency to let you stroll on by before they make a major move like that. But in a city bustling with busy, selfish, awful people—because aren’t all city inhabitants like this, should he have realized something like this was bound to happen? Well, he did. Just didn’t think it would take less than a month for it to occur.

Sopping wet. Exhausted and burnt out. Hungry like a rabid stray dog. He walks briskly. Skipping over the cracks and lines in the sidewalk, no matter how much disdain he tastes for his mother. Missing freshly spat out gum by mere centimeters. Shoulder checking a few too slow pedestrians, their sneering faces burning into his back. And the next awful thing comes in like a planned prank on some mocking little sitcom show. Dog shit. Pure dog shit, brown and putrid and soft on the sole of his right Adidas Superstar. His brand new shoes. The shoes he got himself less than a month ago. Shoes that he had been eyeing for years, but couldn’t muster the courage or the reason to buy them. And now there’s dog shit on the bottom of his shoe. He smears it on the concrete, squishing it further into the ridges of his sole, scraping it against the harsh ground. Tries his best. Checks the bottom of the shoe precariously. And without missing a beat…topples down onto his ass, thankfully away from the smeared shit, but down onto the ground nonetheless. He prickles, stands up on his shaky legs, dusts off his ass, and storms the rest of the way home.

Maybe he shouldn’t slam the door. But it’s barely anything in comparison to the rest of his day. He shouldn’t do it. He knows that it could get them a noise complaint. Though, the way it vibrates against his back, settling deep into the wood, stepping out of his sneakers to wash in the tub in a few—it’s all too good.

The anger begins to dissipate from him in just that small action.

Then, again like a well-mannered sitcom scene, in barrels Eddie from his bedroom. Arms crossed over his chest, hip popped to the side, harsh scowl to his face. “Man, are you fucking serious?” He spits.

“What?” Steve asks, panting, breathless, absolutely done with today. With tomorrow. With the rest of this week.

“I told you this morning that I was going to be studying in my room! All day! Told you that I wanted it to be quiet, and the first thing you do when you get home is slam the door shut?!” He growls. Snarling, he continues, “And what about the noise complaints?! We can’t afford any of those, we need this place! Could you not—“

Steve pushes past him, shoes in hand, work bag slung down like a bomb to the floor. Leaving its contents scattered. A copy of Airplane! on VHS, some stickers reading ‘Be kind, rewind’, measly three dollars, and his Family Video vest. All of it strewn about their place. Pooling murky water on the surface, just as Steve’s clothes were dripping everywhere else. He closes himself in the bathroom, but doesn’t lock the door. In fact, that stupid fucking lock doesn’t even work. Nothing works. He stays in there anyway. Really, they should clean in here. Clorox the hell out of every surface. Maybe see if the piss stains will come up with a harshly gripped mop. But instead of those important things, he tosses his sneakers into the bathtub, and sits with his head in his hands on the closed toilet lid. Mushy socks to the tiled floor. Pants uncomfortably drying and chafing on his legs. Underwear like a second skin to his balls. His polo tight across his back and terribly moist.

Shoves his palms harsh into his eyes and whistles through his nose. “Fuck,” he mutters, lip wobbling with the word.

A tentative knock to the door startles him. “Steve?” Eddie’s voice rings out. It’s murmured, careful, testing the syllables on his tongue. “Hey, can I come in? I’m—“ He sighs, the anger he had before blowing away from him. “I’m sorry,” he sincerely apologizes. “I’m sorry that my first instinct was to get mad. I—“

“Just come in,” he croaks. It’s not very loud, but it must be enough because Eddie pushes the door open mere seconds later.

He sighs, mouth downturning when he sees Steve on the toilet. Meekly holds up Steve’s also brand new messenger bag. Stained like the tiled flooring under their socked feet. It’s sodden and depressing. “Hey,” he mutters.

Steve just hums in return. Looking up to Eddie from the toilet, he must be a sorry sight. All soaking wet, spine hunched and scrunched in a horrifically twisted amalgamation, hair limp in his eyes. Something has to read on him for Eddie to be gazing at him the way he is. All big eyes and sorry mouth and his shoulders slouched like he’s admitting defeat. Part of Steve doesn’t want him to, wants him to keep getting riled, yelling about their lease and the slammed doors and the forgetfulness that seems to flow through Steve just as easily as blood. Wants to be called names. Wants to have a non-delicate conversation about how much of a screw-up he is, how he should’ve listened to his father and never moved away, why he’s a disaster of a person. Tell Steve all the ways in which he’s deserving of the bad days. Deserving of their frequency. Deserving of misery.

“Are you—No, you probably aren’t, but I’m asking anyway. Are you okay, Steve?”

That—Well, that breaks something in him. The final block on his wobbling tower of everything and too much. Under his skin, like weak twigs, his ribs are snapping. Crumbling beneath him to make room for the way his lungs expand with the need to gasp. The need to hiccup his way through a terrible explanation.

His mouth twitches, lips pursing. Looks away. “I—“ Steve rasps. “No,” he sobs.

Warmth crowds him, all too sudden and all too much. Hands gravitating to his magnetic pull. Squeezing his shoulder and pushing back his stringy hair. Though, immediately and dizzyingly, he is reminded of that stupid rhetoric. He shouldn’t follow it. Shouldn’t even allow it to have the vice grip it does on his brain.

But he shakes Eddie off, standing uneasily from the toilet, walking around him. He paces into the kitchen, hungry and shaking and needed to do something. Get his energy out one way or another. Fight off the tears, no matter how relieving they would be. Clatters through the cupboards. Finds the cheap, shitty, generic white bread. And an already half-eaten jar of peanut butter, odd peaks and valleys in it as if somebody’s been chowing down on it with a spoon. That doesn’t matter, though. At least there’s any peanut butter at all.

Eddie’s not too far behind him. Standing in the kitchen’s entryway, hands floating in front of him, reaching out for Steve. “Hey, Stevie, I can make you a sandwich. Y’know, if you want to change out of your clothes. Must be uncomfortable,” he’s placating.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Steve lies to himself. Because he needs this to be true. Just this one good thing. One thing he can do for himself. Make something he wants to eat. Something he’s been thinking about all day. Something that plasters an easy enough smile to his already half-puffy face, tears encroaching and sobs clawing their way up to his throat. But when he grabs for the jelly, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He slams the door of the fridge closed. No jar in sight. Not a single kind. No marmalade or strawberry jam or even the nasty grape jelly he bought for when Robin visits. There’s nothing. “Are you—“ He groans, huffs, and hiccups.

Attempting to cover himself, he shoves his hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes.

The one thing he can’t let Eddie see, because crying is going to happen whether Steve likes it or not, is that he’s an ugly crier. The ugliest, and he knows that. All bubbled snot and dripping its residue over his top lip. Lips bitten red raw from muffling the sobs. Spit burbled in the corners of his mouth. Choking on wet gasps, hiccuping with his whole body, trying to drink the air around him. Skin going splotchy red and hideously swollen, the swelling still apparent even two hours later.

With the first sob, he knows it won’t be possible to hide this breakdown. Eddie’s already inching closer, hands still out in front of him. Steve is a wounded animal, it seems like. He cries loud and shameful, mouth dropped open, his saliva bubbling between his teeth. Already choking on his first gasp.

“It’ll be alright, Stevie,” Eddie tries to soothe, “We can get more jelly, it’s alright.”

“No,” Steve cries, “No! It’s not—“ A series of short, hiccuping, wet gasps. Followed then by a snotty snort, bubbled and causing his breath to whistle. “Such a bad day,” he attempts to explain, voice keening, high pitched in the back of his throat. “Everybody was so mean—Clothes are—All wet and gross—“ Heavy swallow like trying to consume large shards of glass. He flaps his hands at his sides, scrunching them, trying to squeeze himself back to his ordinary box. But instead, more snorting sobs leave him.

Eddie places a warm hand on the back of Steve’s neck. Thumb digging into a knot that’s forming. He puts his other palm on his bare arm, coaxing him over to one of the dining chairs. Settles him down and crouches in front of his sob-riddled, hiccuping, contorting body. Holding Steve’s face with one hand, he reaches for the crumpled bandana in his back pocket, raising it between them. “Look at me, Stevie baby,” he murmurs, “Let me help you.” Steve drags his eyes away from where they’d been zeroed in on the floor. Locking with Eddie’s own sad and soft gaze. “There you are,” Eddie whispers. He gently strokes Steve’s cheek with the edge of his bandana. Gliding it over his skin, patting at the drying tear tracks. His other hand, thumb wedged near the corner of Steve’s mouth, wipes away at the spittle. “I’m sorry you had a bad day,” he mutters, “But we’ll get it back on track, alright? You’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise you’ll be okay.”

Steve’s lips wobble. “I thought you were mad,” he nasally whispers. “Why are you being nice to me?”

Stopping his slow and careful work, Eddie stares in heartbreaking dismay. “You deserve nice things, Steve. It doesn’t matter that I was mad. I’m not mad anymore.” And then he runs his bandana over the snot trails under Steve’s nose. Looking on with an odd mix of sadness and reverence. Thumb not even wiping anything away anymore, simply caressing over Steve’s heated, swollen skin.

He swallows glass again. Blinks sluggishly. Calmed down, oddly. This is probably the quickest cry he’s ever had. He chuckles, “God, I’m such an ugly crier, man.” Sighs. “Can’t believe you’re willingly wiping at my snot right now. ’T’s nice.”

“Stop being so hard on yourself, sweetheart. I don’t even think you’re ugly.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“What—I’m being honest!” Eddie quietly exclaims. He shifts the hand on Steve’s jaw, palm cupping his cheek, fingers splayed over his ear, holding him in a sweet yet fragile way. “Steve, you’re, like, gorgeous. I hate seeing you so upset, but you’re like an angel or something when you cry.” He draws his bandana away, but brings it back to cover the end of Steve’s nose. “Blow into this,” he instructs. And so Steve does, blowing out whatever didn’t already leave him in his crying episode. Eddie pulls it back again, not even grimacing at what is surely a squelching snot-covered mess in his hand. He massages his fingers into the hair around Steve’s ear. Gazing. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, reiterating. “And you deserve nice things, especially after what a clusterfuck of a day you must’ve had. And you deserve to breakdown every once in a while. Don’t have to hide just because you think you shouldn’t cry or because you’re ‘ugly’ or whatever.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve squeaks. Face flushing with heat, gratefully not from tears. He flashes a small smile, modest but there, for the first time today. “You really mean all that? Even when you called me sweetheart?”

Eddie is bashful, smile stretching, going red in the face, tilting his head as if assessing. But the lovesick sheen to his eyes says he’s already made up his mind. “Yeah,” he murmurs, careful and devoted, “yeah, baby. I do mean all that I said.”

“Can I have one more good thing?” Steve tentatively asks.

“What’s that?”

He touches between his eyebrows. “Forehead kiss?” (And sure, maybe he does pout a little, but can you blame him?)

Eddie, without missing a beat, leans forward, fiercely cupping Steve’s cheek, pressing a slightly damp kiss to Steve’s skin. Then under his eyes. The tip of his nose. Corner of his mouth. Pulls back, whispering, “You can have all the kisses you want, sweetheart.” Still caressing Steve, he offers, “How ‘bout I go get you some new jelly while you take a warm bath? And when you’re out, clean clothes and not shivering, we can curl up on the couch and watch that movie you got?”

“Okay,” Steve mutters.

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs back. He presses one more kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Let’s make this a good day, baby.”

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington is an ugly crier #hurt/comfort

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llonelygoddess · 7 months

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How they react to...You being good with a sword

A/N: Not my best work but I'm open to feedback!

Characters: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Khal Drogo, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Jorah Mormont

TW: Horny characters, violence?

Ned Stark: You'd both be out watching Robb, Jon, and Theon practicing with their swords in the court yard. Jon's kicking both of their asses and it's getting hard to watch so you excuse yourself from Ned's side. Walking down to the courtyard, you grab a sword and show them defensive and offensive positions. Ned almost objects as you begin but seeing his kids take your advice so seriously he smiles. If the boys can respect you as a teacher then so could he. Now, He didn't like the idea of you being in a situation where you have to use a sword but knowing you can wield one turns him on lol

Margaery Tyrell: In the life you'd live with Margaery it would be best to keep your talent hidden. It was scandal enough to be courting someone that wasn't a man, but if said person also brandished a sword it would be the hottest gossip of the city. So you save your skills for real emergencies and the first time Margaery sees this she is beyond confused and a little scared. In private she'll thank you for saving her and ask how you learned such a thing.

Sandor Clegane: This guy is the least phased. Like, he's definitely caught off guard by how skilled you are but not much surprises him anymore. He gives you tips every now and then but really believes in your capability. I like to think one of his favorite moments are after you both have had a good fight and you take turns taking care of each other. Wiping the wounds clean, covering them, and then taking a hot bath together ( or separate cause mans is BIG).

Sansa Stark: It kinda depends on which era of Sansa we're talking about. Like if it's younger Sansa than she's probably a little frightened of you but would be dying to hear the stories of how you came to be so good. If it was older Sansa then she's highly impressed and requests for you to be apart of her personal guard. She likely will ask for you to teach her a few things so she can defend herself as well.

Khal Drogo: Man is impressed. He values strength so seeing you with a weapon at all riles him up, but seeing you defend yourself from another Dothraki who spoke against you? He's immediately dragging your ass to bed, or he might just take you in front of everyone.

Brienne of Tarth: <3 Big heart eyes<3 Finally! Someone who can keep up with her. This woman spent her whole life being told that anyone who wasn't a man couldn't possibly wield a sword properly, and after proving that wrong herself it's refreshing to see you also beating the stereotypes. She loves to train with you and teach you things as well as learn from you. After your first real battle together she'll do her best not to hover but you can tell she's stressed out about whether you were hurt or not. Of course she knows you can take care of yourself but she loves you and can't help but worry.

Missandei: As an educated woman and former slave, Missandei never had time ( or the desire) to learn the ways of a sword. When she met you, you were training with Jorah and Grey Worm and she was impressed with how you could keep up with them. From then on, She's always enjoyed watching you train, your strength filling her with pride. She feels content knowing that you can defend yourself and her at any moment.

Podrick: Honestly, he's relieved. I mean, don't get me wrong he'll defend you without a second thought ( it's very hot) but knowing that you can handle yourself in a fight takes the pressure off of him a little. He worries for you, the world you both live in will eat and spit people out and the thought of something happening to you haunts him. He may try to give you tips ( even if you're better than him lol), so just let him help the few ways he can.

Jorah Mormont: You'd both probably meet while working for Daenerys so there's almost an expectation that you'd be good at defending yourself/her. In your first fight together you save him from a sword that nearly took his head off and after that day he begins to see you as more than just another guard.

#ned stark x reader #ned stark #jorah mormont x reader #jorah mormont #podrick payne #podrick x reader #missandei #sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #khal drogo #khal drogo x reader #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth headcanons #margaery tyrell x reader #margaery tyrell

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sorchathered · 3 months

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Something in the Orange

Happy Valentine’s Day babes! Just a little Bob one shot to celebrate the day.❤️

Pairing- Bob Floyd x reader

Warnings- Drinking, language, smut

Summary- North Island’s new medical officer seems to have caught everyone’s eye, but she has her sights set on a certain WSO.

————————————————————————-

Knuckles rapping against the shitty cafeteria table startle you out of your thoughts, looking up you audibly groan at who has decided to grace you with his presence. Jake Seresin, or Hangman as you know him has sidled up to the table of aviators and medics with a cocksure smile and flirty demeanor almost every day this week and to be frank it’s really starting to get on your nerves. Being the head medical officer for the dagger squad isn’t a boring job by any means and sometimes all you want is to just eat in silence, today unfortunately no one is giving you that opportunity.

“What’s up doc?” He says while wiggling his eyebrows at you, and you roll your eyes, he has got to be the cheesiest man you’ve ever met and you still don’t know how any of his lines get him a date.

“Just living the dream Hangman, trying to catch a break and hoping one of you doesn’t wind up in my infirmary today.”

If he gets the hint that you aren’t interested he doesn’t acknowledge, just makes himself at home in your space and swipes a chip off your plate.

“Hard deck tonight, everyone’s going, you gonna tag along? I’d love to buy you a drink.”

You had in fact planned to go, but not to spend time giving Seresin any more attention than his giant ego needed. You had your eye on someone else entirely, but being the shiny new toy in fightertown (single, under 40, and hot) meant that every available guy (and some girls) on the squad had been vying for your attention the past few weeks since your arrival. It was becoming tedious, you knew you would need to set up some boundaries but you’d been testing the waters and just trying to make some friends, not looking for anything serious yet. Well unless a certain someone wanted that but that was a whole other can of worms.

So you just smiled up at Mirimar’s golden boy and told him you’d see him later that evening, not missing the glare a certain bespectacled WSO had directed in his teammate’s direction. You’d unpack that later.

Bob Floyd had been your one serious boyfriend in your navy career, you’d both been stationed together in Maryland in your mid twenties and had gotten on like a house on fire. But you both were young and not ready for anything substantial so when he moved to Lemoore you both agreed to stay friends and see where life took you. It was hard and you were heartbroken but you knew now it had been for the best, neither one of you were ready for marriage at the time and your careers kept you both on opposite sides of the planet which made things even more difficult. But now you were here, seeing each other every day and it was slowly driving him insane having to watch every one of his squad mates flirt with you on the daily. He knew you probably found it hilarious how it got under his skin, he didn’t have the right to say anything about it anymore and that was what frustrated him the most. He’d been the one to break things off, he’d put you both in the position you were in and he couldn’t stand it. But you two had barely spoken since you’d joined the team, and who knows if he even still had a shot in the first place?

———————————————————————

Hard Deck Fridays had become a commonplace for the Dagger Squad and their crew, and tonight was no exception. The bar was packed to capacity, everyone tossing back drinks and toasting to the weekend, congregating by the pool tables near the jukebox while Hangman and Coyote ran the dart board. You finally squeezed your way through the crowd after getting a beer for you and your medic buddy Carrie, grateful that she had claimed a table with Phoenix and a few of the other girls in your group. You all chatted and gossiped over the news of the week and you could finally feel the tension release from your shoulders, it really had been a good idea to get out tonight you hadn’t realized how much you’d needed the girl time.

“Uh oh girls, Rooster’s headed this way”

You all craned your necks to get a good look, there was no denying that Bradley Bradshaw was hot, but he definitely wasn’t your type. He’d made it known more than once that he wasn’t a commitment kinda guy and you were perfectly fine with viewing him as eye candy and letting that be that. But he had his eyes set on you tonight and his heated gaze raking over your body had you feeling some kind of way. “Down girl, it’s been a while but damn you need to get it together” you thought as he made his way over, one night in the sack with Bradshaw wouldn’t be worth the weeks of awkwardness that would be sure to follow and the repercussions were enough to keep him at arms length.

“Evening ladies,” he said with a lopsided grin, sunglasses still perched on his nose despite being indoors, which should have looked stupid but on him it was definitely working.

“Y/n wanna take a walk outside with me for a bit? I’d love a chance to get to know our new medical officer a little better.”

Well he certainly took the direct route, you had to hand it to him. He knew what he wanted and went for it, you could respect that. But as your eyes flicked up to make your response you noticed Bob at the table across from you with Fanboy, eyes boring into yours with a look you knew all too well. That I know what you look like on your knees kind of look, and damn it you were turned on just at the memories of him. So you smiled sweetly at Bradley and politely turned him down, making your way towards the bathrooms with a slight nod of your head in Bob’s direction. He slung back the last of his whiskey and made an excuse to leave the group, no one the wiser at what was transpiring.

In the dark hallway by the restrooms he found you, nervously playing with your bracelet and eyes darting all over as you looked for him. You sighed in relief when you saw him and he reached out for your hand to take you through the back exit into the balmy summer night.

You felt like every nerve was on fire, you’d been avoiding him the past few weeks, afraid to ask how he was or how things had been. What if he was in a relationship? What if he was over you and wasn’t interested anymore? You’d spent way too many nights with your hand hovering over his contact in your phone, way too chicken shit to make the call. But now he was here and holding your hand and you might explode just from the proximity alone. He had bulked up since you’d seen him last, muscles stretching that white tee just right and his hair was lighter from all the days in the California sun. Freckles covered his nose and cheeks and you wondered if they were along his shoulders and back as well, wondered what it’d be like to be in his arms again, in his bed, listening to him sing to you as you fell asleep like he used to. You needed to know if you had a shot, it was right on the tip of your tongue and you couldn’t bury it anymore.

“Robby, uh I know it’s been a while but-“

“I missed you.”

You blinked up at him with shock now, how much time had you wasted the past few weeks avoiding him? Regret flooded you at the realization that you should have had this talk sooner.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything else, crowding you up against the weathered wall of the bar and leaning in to cup your cheeks with his hands. He rubbed his nose along yours and you let out a shaky laugh, he’d always been so good at rendering you speechless, drunk on the smell of his cologne and heat of his body pressed against yours.

“Can I kiss you sweetheart? Wanna make up for all that lost time we wasted.”

You nodded maybe a little too enthusiastically because he huffed out an amused laugh but pulled you impossibly closer, lips molding to yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed. God you’d missed him, no one had ever filled the void he’d left in his wake no matter how hard you’d tried. The two of you a tangled bunch of limbs and tongues in an all too familiar dance that had your hands roaming and bodies grinding into each other, barely aware that you were in a very public space. The bar door flung open and startled you both, Phoenix peeking out into the darkness to find the two of you still pressed together, chests heaving as you gasped for air.

“So I see you two have kissed and made up” she said with a laugh, and Bob hid his face in the crook of your neck, giggles pouring from him which brought on a round of them from yourself. She smiled knowingly and with a wink waved you both off, of course Bob had told her everything about the two of you, it wasn’t a surprise at all in her mind that she would eventually find the two of you like this; it had only been a matter of time. “I like her” you said as you fixed his crooked glasses. “Yeah, she grows on you, like mold” which sent you both into a laughing fit, it felt good to be with him like this again. No more tension between the two of you and it had you craving domesticity with him even more.

“What does this mean?” You whispered up at him, you didn’t know if you could bear it if he didn’t want to start over and the uncertainty in your eyes broke his heart.

“I was stupid, so so stupid. I love you, I never stopped. I won’t screw it up this time baby, I swear it.” He reaches for your hand and sticks his pinky out, knows your affinity for pinky promises and that they are law in your heart. It’s binding, if you two cross this bridge and he makes this promise there’s no going back.

With a shaky breath you link yours with his and blink back the tears that blind your eyes, he really does mean it. He won’t break your heart again.

“Let’s go inside before Phoenix comes back, she’s relentless and it’s time I introduce you to her properly. Want everyone to know you’re mine.”

He pecks your lips and then helps you fix your hair and dress, leading the way back to your table. To say the group seemed stunned was an understatement, no one but Natasha had known you even knew each other and now here was their quiet WSO with the new girl in his lap kissing her like they’d known each other for ages. Bradley turned to Jake who gave him a flabbergasted look as well, how the hell had Baby on Board managed to snatch you up when they couldn’t even get a second glance from you? Coyote ever the nosy gossip of the group sidled over to the two of you pulling you both from your conversation, Bob giving him an eyebrow raise clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

“Ease up Bob, just curious about how you two kids know each other, you two look awfully cozy.”

You patted Bob’s cheek and smiled, the rumor mill would swirl regardless so why not get ahead of it now? You leaned in to give Bob a quick kiss and then turned all your attention to the group who clearly couldn’t mind their own business, eavesdropping on your conversation and failing miserably at hiding their interest.

“Not that it’s any of your business Lieutenant Machado but Bob and I go way back. Now if you’ll excuse me I think I’m going to have my boyfriend take me home and fuck me senseless so if you’ve gotten your answers I’d suggest you find somewhere else to be.” You smiled a saccharine sweet look at him, laced with a bit of venom as you dared anyone to say anything untoward. You knew the guys liked to pick on him and you wouldn’t have it happening on your watch anymore. Coyote gave an incredulous look but got the hint and with a fist bump to Bob made his way back to the group. Everyone else seemed awestruck until you glanced over the room, then they magically all had something else to do or look at that wasn’t the two of you.

Bob and Phoenix choked out a laugh and he squeezed your side, when you looked at him his eyes were hungry, heat pooling in your stomach at the look he gave you. It’d been so long since you’d been together but you would never forget what that look meant and you gasped for air, squeezing your eyes and legs shut at the same time as he leaned in to nuzzle next to your ear.

“Think we should get out of here pretty girl, what’dya say? Time to go home so you can get fucked senseless like you put so eloquently?” He huffs out a laugh, he’d missed your smart mouth and zero tolerance for bullshit.

Your response gets lost in your throat somewhere, but you follow him out of the bar as he waves everyone off, they’ll no doubt have plenty to ask you both on Monday but he didn’t give a shit, you were here and he’d been an absolute fool to let you go. He wouldn’t do it again.

He’d tried to move on countless times over the past few years, if he was honest with himself he looked for you in every woman he dated but no one seemed to fit the bill. You two had kept in contact over the years and he knew you hadn’t settled down either, hope always in the back of his mind that you’d find your way back to each other.

He’d barely made it in the door before he was on you, wrenching your tiny dress over your head to find you in nothing but the tiniest scrap of underwear he’d ever seen. You were grinding your body all over his and whining deep in your throat as he ran his knuckles up against your nipples. Scooping you up and tossing you over his shoulder he made his way down the hall to his bedroom, peals of laughter leaving you and he swatted your ass, God he’d missed this. He’d never had this kind of intimacy with anyone else. It was easy, like breathing when the two f you were in bed, always talking and laughing while also rough and dirty, the sex was always hot but the partnership you shared was something neither of you could find anywhere else.

You bounced backward as he plopped you onto his bed, and you were suddenly very aware that he had too many clothes on. You needed him now, there would be plenty of time to talk and take time relearning each others bodies but in this moment you wanted him inside you.

“Robby, please. Please fuck me, need it so badly missed you so much.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, pulling his shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the dark. Pants made it just below his ass before he was pulling himself free and sliding into you. You gasped as he manhandled you, grasping his face to lick into his mouth as he slammed back into you with a sharp thrust, you had been soaked the minute you two got in the car and were more than ready to let him have you. It was animalistic the way he was fucking into you, sucking and biting whatever skin he could reach as he grunted praise in your ear, how tight your little wet pussy was and how badly he wanted to mark you up, keep you stuffed full of him every second of every day, needed to fuck you until you couldn’t walk anymore and you clenched down on his cock, it was too much and not enough all at once, you needed him like oxygen, so many nights you’d spent pretending your fingers were his cock but nothing could ever substitute how good Bob could make you feel.

He needed you to cum, his resolve was crumbling but he couldn’t let himself finish without you letting go first, needed to see you come undone and watch that fucked out stupid smile on your face he’d missed so much while he took what he needed from your spent body. He snaked a hand down to your throbbing clit and swiped slow circles to build you up, watched your chest and neck flush as you began to wail and thrash in his arms, pussy pulsing around him and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, biting down on your shoulder as he came hard, painting your walls in his release as you cried and bucked into him, still coming down from your high.

Finally the heaviness in his chest he’d had since you arrived felt bearable, he took a deep breath that he swore he’d been holding for days and appraised his handiwork as you sucked in deep breaths. Your chest was littered in what would be dark hickies before the weekend was through, bite mark on your shoulder would definitely cause some looks but you looked like an angel from the orange glow of the hallway light, and Bob finally felt himself relax.

You giggled into his shoulder as he melted into you, broad heavy body crushing you into the mattress and you felt like you were floating from the afterglow.

“So, is it safe to say we’re back together?” He said with a sheepish grin and you slapped his ass causing him to yelp and rub his stubble into your cheek.

“Might have to keep my options open, apparently I’m a hot commodity these days” you cackled and he pulled back to pin you by the hips to the bed, attacking you with tickles as you kicked and fought his advances. The two of you would spend the whole weekend wrapped up in each other, and Bob would spend every day proving to you he was in this for the long haul.

Monday morning came too soon, and when the time came to change in the locker rooms the guys were treated to baby Bob Floyd covered in hickies and scratch marks, needless to say they didn’t pick on him again about his lack of sexual prowess, and the incessant flirting from Seresin and Bradshaw miraculously stopped. You were Bob’s girl, off limits and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tagging- @attapullman (thank you for clearing the writer’s block a little!)

@bobgasm

@mamachasesmayhem

@roosterforme

@sailor-aviator

@sebsxphia

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #top gun bob #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob fucks #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #happy valentine's day

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mayfly-stampede · 1 year

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why is Vash distant with Meryl and Roberto?

(warnings: long post ahead, ep 5-8 spoilers, Trigun maximum manga spoilers)

after saying they were friends

after he insisted in looking them inside the worm and risked his life to save them

After all that…

“They’re not my friends”

(Yes, that broke my heart too T_T)

what happened?

Well, we have to accept Vash has met and helped and saved A LOT of people in his life cause (SPOILER) he has lived many, MANY years.

In the manga, he meets a lot of people in his adventures and we don’t know if he sees them again (even though we know they’re worry about him and are waiting news from him). Rosa in TS is a reference to this. She met Vash time ago and talks with him like a good friend.

But Meryl and Roberto are just another two more he just met like many others before them. Have they done something important for Vash that makes them more special to him? …Not really.

Maybe in the car when Meryl is worried about Vash not eating in three days…and we know him, he could pretend to be asleep but actually is aware of everything. He could heard her…

nevertheless he says goodbye to them really easily. Specially cause he is going to confront his older brother and doesn’t want anyone to get hurt, just like the friend he lost the day before.

And now he is distant with Nicholas too (SPOILER) cause after he defended him, he killed Rollo.

Clean, one shot…Impressive.

Who is Nicholas really? Why is he following Vash?

What if getting Nicholas away from the reporters and letting him believe Meryl and Roberto are not special to him is the best chance to keep them safe?

And when he reunites with them again, he is genuinely surprised and maybe worried like “I just got you out of my typhoon life and now you are here again??”

That reminds me all the moments in the manga when Vash recognizes he just can’t get rid of the insurance girls following him everywhere.

He is under their supervision to avoid disaster…but that gives them more like a passive role where they are just there keeping an eye over Vash.

at the beginning, the girls just follow him like Meryl stampede and Roberto are doing right now, and like Vash ‘23, Vash in the manga doesn’t interact too much with Meryl and Milly when they just met (he hides from them actually).

In 98’ anime, he asks them to stop following him when his situation was too dangerous for them.

And even though they’re good fight partners, Wolfwood is the only one who can fight side to side with him, so they have more adventures together most of the time without the girls.

Maybe that’s why we feel a cold relationship with Meryl and Roberto, cause Vash is always fighting and running…

And when Vash ‘23 sees them again he doesn’t have time to talk. He has to protect them and the other people in the sand-steamer, defeat the Bad Lads and then go back to help Nicholas, who actually does have a heart and has someone to protect, so he can’t be that bad…

And now that he knows they helped him in the sand-steamer all we can do is wait and see if their relationship evolves…

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paimonial-rage · 19 days

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expectations - kaveh

[random writing event] | requested by @andromeda-nova-writing

Kaveh scratched his head as he pondered your question. Though you often asked him many random things, this one caught him off guard. If he had to be honest, it was an odd question considering the point in your relationship. He didn’t fully know how to answer. But judging from that expectant look in your eyes, there definitely was a right answer and a wrong one.

“I mean… I’d make you a bed and feed you everyday… I’d take care of you and make sure you’re never in want,” he began, a bit proud of his answer that no matter what happened, he’d take care of you–

“You mean you wouldn’t make me a house?” You asked weakly, horror evident on your face.

He frowned in thought. Well, perhaps he could–

“After all of that, and you’d force me to live the rest of my days in a house with your roommate?”

A sharp bark of laughter erupted from his chest.

“I thought you were talking about– Are you serious!? I can’t even afford a house on my own! You’re expecting me to make a full sized house for you? Me and what money!? What would you even do with–”

You scoffed in sheer disbelief.

“What would I do with a house? What kind of dumb question is that, Kaveh? I’d live in it, duh! What? Are you saying I don’t deserve a house?”

He burst to his feet and slammed his hands to the table.

“I didn’t say that! It’s just–”

But you didn’t bother to hear anything he had to say.

“I’d live in it and eat all the tons of expensive food you buy for me!” You announced stubbornly with an upturned nose and a cross of your arms.

“‘Tons’ of expensive food? How much money do you think I make?” He demanded.

“Well yeah. I need to eat! What would you give me otherwise?”

He paused in thought.

“I… I don’t know. An apple a day?”

Your eyes blew open wide in horror.

“A single apple? What do you think I am, Kaveh, a horse!? I can’t believe you! What kind of boyfriend are you?” You accused, hurt evident in your eyes. “I mean that’s the bare minimum I’d do for you if you got turned into a worm!!”

He sunk into his seat. Was this what it meant to be in a relationship? Was this what it meant to take care of someone? Was he in over his head? He thought this was supposed to be a light-hearted conversation. Not only did he reveal himself to be a bad boyfriend, but judging by the way you were doing your best to hide that smile creeping to your lips, he obviously hurt you too–

Wait.

“You… You wouldn’t do those things at all!” He exclaimed incredulously.

You burst into a fit of laughter, wiping the tear that gathered at the corner of your eye. But upon seeing the frustration in his expression, you did your best to calm down. With a sway of your hips, you stood and made your way behind him. And with those talented fingers of yours, you gently began to massage away the stress in his shoulders.

“Okay, maybe I wouldn’t. But I would make you a nice soft comfy bed with the best and richest dirt in Sumeru. And I’d give you a nice juicy apple every day plucked straight from the highest tree in all of Mondstadt. You’d be living the best life a worm could live.”

He grumbled, doing his best to hold onto his irritation and losing.

“Oh but if I do that, you accuse me of treating you like a horse.”

You laughed.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #my writing #writing event #request #andromeda-nova-writing #i’m not super happy with the execution but this is supposed to be flash fiction #thank you for the request!#sorry this is a dumb one

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superb-fox · 6 months

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I wanna talk about how Sousou no Frieren treats heroes and demons, because in my opinion it's masterfully done.

We really only learn about one hero, Himmel. Sure there's the Hero of the South but what do we really know about him besides he had future sight and he died? I'll focus on Himmel. I think what sets Himmel apart is how he acts, in typical hero stories they're portrayed as kind, strong, willing to do what's right, all that nice stuff and while I do think those are good traits for a hero, Himmel is shown differently. We almost never see him fight, every time we see him it is in relation to an action he took that influenced people for the better. He takes on countless detours and quests because he can't turn down people in need, every where he goes he's doing good, when people talk about him they never talk about how strong he was or how cool he was it's always about how his act(s) of kindness changed their lives. They're happier, better people because he came through their town. He changes everywhere he goes for the better because of who he is and how he acts. He quite literally changed the world not because he killed the demon king, but because everywhere he went he improved people's lives, and those people because they are better change more people's lives and it spreads and spreads and spreads until the world is better. From random towns people to our main characters, everyone is better because of him. Look at Frieren for example, a complete stoic who before Himmel just was living her life in the woods doing whatever. But after? She takes on an apprentice, travels from place to place continuing the good Himmel did, she learned so much kindness from him in the relatively short time they spent together. Pre-hero party Frieren would have gone to a town, blended into the background, and moved on. But now? She's taking on quests, helping people, and making lives brighter. Why? In her own words it's what Himmel would have done. Fern owes her life to Himmel despite never meeting him because Heiter took her in because that's what Himmel would have done. Frieren looks after her after Heiter's passing because that's what Himmel would have done. Think of all the good she's doing traveling with Frieren just because of that! It ripples outward forever because of a great hero's influence. In other words, he's not a hero because of his great feats or his power, it's because of who he was and that's how you write a truly great hero.

Now let's talk about demons. People with third grade reading comprehension have made the comparison to real life peoples. That the text is saying that demons being just an irredeemable evil race is racist and compare it to how in real life people do that to justify genocide, but this cannot be further from the truth. Demons in this world are an offshoot of humans like elves and dwarves are. They're similar enough to look like humans, speak like humans, their magic is something special to them but similar enough that with study humans can use it just as well. However demons are truly the farthest thing from humanity you could be. The best way to describe them is how when you see two animals that look so similar but they're in entirely different evolutionary families. How a rabbit and a hare look similar but are so SO very different. Demons are closer to animals in that they do what they can to survive. They trick, they deceive, they hunt. These are not evil things, this is nature. A lion is not evil for hunting in packs to eat one antelope, a bird is not evil for walking a certain way to imitate rain and attract a worm. However when it's applied to something that looks and acts so incredibly human it can be seen that way. The lion ganging up on someone is not a fair fight, the bird is lying to and tricking the worm, these are absurd statements. Demons are a divergent evolution of humanity that cannot comprehend the traits that make us human but will use them to hunt us. They do not understand malice or bonds or guilt or love, they are solitary beings that understand power and magic. They biologically cannot understand it, them learning these emotions is like if a cat suddenly sprouted tentacles, it just can't happen. But because they lack the very traits that make us human while looking so human, they appear evil to us. How could something so human-like act so inhuman? Perform such evil acts without a seconds thought? But they're not evil, they can't even understand evil. Them using maternal love to have someone drop their guard and become easy prey is such a basic thing like waking up in the morning they cannot comprehend why people think it's bad. The problem isn't that one is evil and one is good, it's that evolution set these two species on such polar opposite courses that they truly can never understand each other. Yet they're still so close that there's always that feeling of that things could be worked out, that these two peoples can co-exist, but it is just biologically impossible. And that's tragic, that's heart breaking, for one species to exist peacefully the other must die. These beings so close to us yet so far must die. There's no way around it, no negotiating, no compromise, evolution and nature have played this sick dance to pit these two brothers against each other and it absolutely should hurt your soul, but it must happen.

#sousou no frieren #frieren: beyond journey's end #frieren at the funeral #frieren the slayer

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fruitsoxs · 11 months

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Having Vash and Wolfwood as roommates would include;;

warnings;; i don't define a relationship, but it kinda hints at all three of you being together, lots of fluff, nothing nsfw (but I'm thinking about doing some nsfw headcanons for this in the future if anyone is interested)

How it happens/Meeting Vash

You’re basically desperate when your plans for moving in with your ex best friend fall through, leaving you basically homeless right before the semester is about to start

Looking online, in the newspaper even, you’re searching for any place that doesn’t look scummy, creepy, or charges you up the ass

Knowing full well that living without roommates in this economy is impossible, you’re hoping to find some nice people-

And boy do you luck out

Posted on some stupid roommate finder website is an add for a three bedroom apartment that’s in a sort of sketchy part of town, but offers protection for anyone willing to brave it. The guy that posted it seems nice, the ad is kinda funny, and the rent is cheap

You decide to try it out

When you first meet Vash, it’s in a little coffee shop near the uni you’re attending. It’s a safe spot to meet with a stranger, and he was cool with whatever you suggested. Green flag.

He’s pretty nice, funny, and insanely cute. He tells you that the other roommate, a man he calls “Nicholas” is at work, but from the way Vash talks about him you assume he’s a chill dude too

You can’t help but feel a bit intimidated by how attractive Vash is. He’s blonde, with a cute little mole, and his eyes are like…woah

Plus he’s got a cute little piercing !!!

No guy this good looking should be this nice

You decide pretty quickly this feels like a good match, and bam the deed is done

You move in next week, get your stuff situated and suddenly you have two new roommates

Meeting Wolfwood

It’s almost disappointing how little you see of the other roommate in the first week. Vash explains that he’s been taking on extra shifts at work but you still kinda feel like maybe the man is avoiding you?

All you know of the man is that he smokes, drinks a little, and has weird taste in movies

You see random objects strewn across the house that belong to him and you start trying to figure out his personality in your head

You decide that he’s probably some skinny stoner, and you’re pretty confident in that hypothesis until you actually see him

You bump into him in the morning right before you head off to start your first day of class

You literally bump into him-

As he’s leaving the bathroom, you’re in the hallways and a collision occurs. To make matters worse he’s shirtless

And he’s hot

He’s wearing sweatpants, his toned torso out in the open, and his hair is a bit of a mess. You can tell it’s sort of a short wolf-cut though- and it’s definitely working on him

He kinda smirks down at you and says it’s nice to finally “run” into you

And fuck- how are you supposed to survive having TWO hot roomates

General Chaos

You find out pretty quickly that these two are not the most normal people

And you freaking love it

Once Wolfwood’s insane work schedule chills out, you finally get chance to see the duo in action

They kind act like an old married couple. It’s a bit scary at first, and you fear you might be third wheeling but you soon mix into their dynamic quite nicely

Once wolfwood starts calling you some funky nickname you know you’ve wormed your way into their hearts

Your schedules all clash a bit, but you all find time to see each other throughout the day. Wolfwood has a morning class like you, and so you end up eating breakfast together most days. You start taking turns making food for each other

No matter what you both at least drink an entire pot of coffee together, and complain about life

Vash and you meet up in the afternoon, since your afternoon classes are close to each other. He’s the one who texts you the first time to ask if you want to meet up- and your heart does a little flip

It has become a habit. Whenever you two aren’t busy with other things, you’ll sit outside on a grassy area and talk for a second

All three of you hang out at night when Wolfwood isn’t working insane night shifts

Saturdays are movie nights. You HAVE to attend movie nights

It gets crazy. Especially when Wolfwood graciously shares his stuff.

The first time they see you cry- you’re pretty sure they might explode

You’re stressed from school, whatever job you might have, and probably a few family problems too. Vash walks in to your room to ask you what you want for dinner, sees the tears and whips out his phone to tell Wolfwood

He then immediately rolls you up in a blanket and makes you cuddle him on the couch to destress.

He’s insanely patient with you, rubbing your back and letting you vent

Wolfwood kicks open the door with your favorite comfort food moments later, and the three of you sit and watch a stupid movie

Wolfwood keeps his arm around you, and lets you rest your head on his chest

Vash’s hand is in yours

They’re pretty respectful of your privacy at first- but they’re both like the clingiest friends ever

Vash doesn’t mean to- and will apologize if he oversteps boundaries

Wolfwood on the other hand just doesn’t care. He’ll waltz into your room and go “Hey- stop screaming- I need you to make sure I got this math correct.”

Crazy competitive game nights, that sometimes end in you pulling Wolfwood off of Vash as Vash screams for his life to be spared (he like staking stars from Wolfwood in mario party) (It ends in bloodshed every time) (He should really stop)

Grocery shopping is just Wolfwood acting like a dad while you and Vash are off shoveling sweets into the cart (He secretly puts his favorite treats in the cart too though)

You and Vash stage an intervention for Wolfwood when he gets a little bit too into buying random jewelry covered in crosses (“we know you have religious trauma- and yes you look good in them- but come on-”). He walks into the apartment, sees the sign, and then walks out

Vash invites his brother over once and you’re pretty sure you’re about to be cut. (“No Vash- Knives is nice…he’s just scary.” “He just has a resting “I want to murder” you face!”)

Feelings bloom?

They really warm up to you. One day it becomes clear that you’re just…part of them now. Like they can’t imagine you ever leaving their side

It’s the same for you. You walk out one day, and grab your mug of coffee from Wolfwood and…you just kinda spot and think that you really like these guys. Things feel right

I think overtime things just slowly get intimate-

like you start holding Vash’s hand just casually throughout the day

And sometimes Wolfwood will come rest his head on your shoulder from behind, and you’ll reach up and run your hand through his hair

Casual soft touches just become a thing you know?

Vash lets his hand rise under your shirt a bit when you’re sitting with him on the couch

And eventually…maybe they become less casual?

Wolfwood puts his hand on your waist as he passes by behind you

The sexual tension is like palpable

I don’t really know who finally kisses who- or how things go from wholesome to spicy- but it gets there eventually

And soon you three are more than just roommates, more than friends, and even if you don’t know what it is- it’s kinda perfect

You renew the lease for the next year, and you’re pretty damn happy you were homeless for that little bit now

#wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #wolfwood headcanons #vash headcanons

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