#he has been very uncharacteristically quiet and slow

[crystallinestars]

Kissing Headcanons Part 3 (Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao)

Other parts: 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7

(Reader's gender is not mentioned)

Diluc is a gentleman through and through. He would never force a kiss on you, always seeking out your consent before attempting to do so. To him, kisses with you are intimate and romantic occasions that he takes very seriously. He may not express his love for you verbally often, but he doesn’t need to. His actions speak for him. If you look into his eyes, you will see a rare softness in his expression, a tender side to him that he buries under his stoic yet professional façade as the wine tycoon and Darknight hero of Mondstadt. When he’s with you, he lets his walls come down to reveal the soft and sweet side of him that he shows only to you. Diluc caresses your face in his hands like you are his most precious treasure, and perhaps you are—if his adoring and loving gaze is anything to go by.

Diluc would gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek with his bare palm. He likes to take his gloves off when he’s with you so he can feel the softness and warmth of your skin as it enhances the intimacy between you two. Diluc guides your face closer to his in a slow movement, his lips brushing against yours in a warm and firm kiss. He won’t overwhelm you with his kiss, but he could be insistent about its duration. He’s a busy man and doesn’t get to spend time with you as often as he’d like, so he wants to make use of every opportunity he has to catch up on the affection he’s been craving from you.

While he kisses you, he rubs the pad of his thumb against the skin of your cheek, the motion featherlight and brimming with the tenderness and adoration he holds for you. His touch conveys just how utterly smitten with you he is. And when you part from the kiss, one glance at Diluc is enough to melt your heart. A small, loving smile would tug at his lips, the love and tenderness he feels for you evident in his crimson eyes, and it makes your heart ache. You are the light that casts away the shadows in his heart, and he feels incredibly lucky to have you in his life.

--------------------

Kaeya is confident in his kissing abilities, and it shows. He never gets flustered or shy when you ask for kisses or surprise him with one on his lips. He rolls with the punches, quickly adapting and matching your pace. Kaeya’s silver tongue is also good for more than just talking. He knows how to use it while kissing you deeply, his tongue brushing teasingly against your own, eager to hear the muffled sounds of pleasure this elicits from your throat. He’ll do his damnedest to make you weak in the knees with his kisses, taking great pleasure in watching you lose your bearings as your mind clouds over with pleasure—all because of him. He’d tease you about it with a cocky smirk, laughing when you get annoyed with his antics and playfully smack his arm in retaliation.

However, Kaeya doesn’t know how to act when you kiss him in places other than his lips. When you kiss his shoulder, forehead, temple, or hand, his breath hitches and he momentarily freezes. He’s used to being alone; protecting all of Mondstadt from the shadows by committing morally questionable acts just to keep you and those he loves safe. He doesn’t think of himself as a good person that’s deserving of true love. But when you take his face in your hands and rise up on your toes to press your lips to his forehead, something in him breaks. During those moments he’s quiet and uncharacteristically melancholy, though he’ll try to put on a cheery act so you don’t notice how misty his eye had gotten. To his chagrin, you see through him and just give him a loving smile, telling him that he’s worthy of love by showering him in more soft kisses. The feeling of your lips on his face is a foreign yet welcome sensation for Kaeya. His heart aches at the realization that he’s been craving love and affection for many years, even if he wasn’t aware of it. Your kisses reassure him and let him know you truly love him for him, and that this relationship isn’t some fling.

Kaeya won’t admit this to you, but your loving kisses make him feel vulnerable and emotional in the best way. After he comes to this realization, Kaeya will treat you with even more care afterwards, being protective and supportive of you in subtle ways since he’s too shy to say it upfront, but you truly are special to him for touching his heart so deeply.

--------------------

Xiao would be too scared to initiate for a long time. You’re incredibly dear to him because you chase away the pain and loneliness he’s felt for centuries. Your face is akin to a soft lullaby that comforts him in his times of agony when his karma catches up with him. You mean more to him than you’ll ever know, and he wants to protect you for all he’s worth. And it’s because he wants to keep you safe from harm that he is so hesitant to kiss you. All his life he’s known nothing but bloodshed and suffering, so he doesn’t know how to act in romantic situations. He has no confidence that he won’t accidentally hurt you, and he would never forgive himself if he ever caused you harm.

For the first while, you will be the one initiating all the kisses. They would have to be very slow and gentle to ease Xiao into the idea that perhaps kissing isn’t so intimidating after all. He finds that he really likes feeling the softness and warmth of your lips against his. The sensation is a reminder that you’re alive and here with him in this moment, that you’re not leaving him despite his insecurities.

Once Xiao grows more comfortable with kisses, he will take the initiative to give you some of his own, but he will always ask for permission either verbally or non-verbally before laying his lips on you. His favorite places to kiss you are your hands. He would gently take your hands in his, looking into your eyes in a silent request for your permission to kiss them. When you consent, he would lift your hands to his lips and press a featherlight kiss to the backs of them or to your wrists. It’s a simple action but it says so much about how deeply he cherishes you. During moments when he feels particularly emotional and protective of you, Xiao would press his lips against yours in the most gentle and loving manner, treating you as if you were fragile glass. No matter where he kisses you, Xiao will always keep his kisses light and tender. You are his light in the dark, the anchor that keeps him tethered to this world, and he would be shattered if anything he did ever caused you pain.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x you #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you

[sturniolo-rat]

NSFW ABCs - Nick Sturniolo

Masterlist

Taglist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s surprisingly uncharacteristically soft and cuddly. He’s only ever little spoon when they cuddle after sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his is hair. He love the feeling of his partner holding and pulling his hair. His favorite body part on his partner is his chest. He likes touch his chest while he rides his partner.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Cum is disgusting to him. He believes he is too good to have something like cum on his body. He always asks his partner to cum down his throat.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sometimes when he jerks off he’ll pull his own hair and imagine it’s his partner.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s moderately experienced. Like on a scale of one to ten he’s a sold five. Maybe even 7 if they’re only doing oral.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowboy. He likes to get on top. Honorable mention to doggy style because it’s better for hair pulling.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is very serious in the moment! He thinks about the moment and the moment alone. He makes sure to be focused in order to do everything right and perfect.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

While not covered head-to-toe in hair, there is a happy trail leading down to well-groomed, slightly trimmed pubic hair. He keeps himself groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s very serious. He gets down to business and becomes a machine, doing everything as he is supposed to working very efficiently.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Refer back to his dirty secret.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He likes to spray his cum all over his partner’s pecs and abs. He also really likes to have sex in front of a mirror and with his music playing in the background.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom. Only in a bedroom. He may on a good day give his partner head in the kitchen or something like that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Nick loves loves loves being praised.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nick just really hates stupidity. If you do some really dumb shit without even thinking - he gets severely turned off.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Nick loves to be face fucked. He wants his partner to grip his hair and slam slam his member down his throat, again and again. He'll also happily face fuck his partner, although he prefers he puts in more of the work and lets him relax.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Nick has been known to be a little rougher. He’s definitely an aggressive power bottom.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Absolutely his efficiency often leads to everyone cuming very quickly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Literally no. He would hate to be found in a compromising position AND not know what he’s doing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Nick can go on average two or three rounds without penetrative sex and one or two with.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Nick doesn't own any toys, although he's always been open to trying them and will gladly if his partner asks.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Nick is such a tease. It takes him some time to get comfortable enough in the relationship to tease but once he does…he loves it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Nick is pretty quiet, he tends to hold back a bit. Half the fun though, comes from dragging every little noise out of him. The best ones are the small breathy moans he makes and the half-choked groan when he comes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Personally I think he’s a rigger. His partner needs to be open to being his ropebunny.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Nick has a 7 inch cock that he's quite proud of.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is pretty middle of the road. He is however immediately turned on when his partner initiates.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When he bottoms he falls asleep quite fast, he'll get tired as soon as his partner pulls out. Otherwise he’s not very sleepy at all.

#christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

[ghouljams]

I love the fact that in all of your AUs Soap has to work for his darling(s). Whether it be because someone else wants them too (fea!AU), they don't want to fall for his handsome dumb kissable face (cowboy!AU, Viking!AU), or he didn't know that was even an option but now he kind of wants it (Demon!AU).

Just the fact that Soap's stories all almost slow burns in a way makes me just giggle like a school boy wishing I could have him. He'd be so good to anyone he dated. I still think about a tag you had on one of your Ghost demon!AU fics in which you called Die Ghost's hell assigned girlfriend. When is Johnny going to learn hush is his Hell assigned boyfriend? Love your writing, and I hope you're settling into your new place alright.

-Hot mess rambler

Unfortunately because Soap summoned Hush and made a contract that way, Hush is NOT a Hell assigned boyfriend. He hasn't come pre-loaded with any of the affection that assigned demons do, all of his is home grown. Which I really really like. I love making Soap work for it, and this feels very much like the au where he sort of... doesn't have to work for it? Hush pursues him, and Soap attempts to keep up when he didn't even know this was an option haha.

You're sitting in the helo pushing your tongue against your teeth, trying to get some of the sinew out from between them. You're thinking of cutting back on raw muscle, better to stick just to organs. At least they don't stick on your teeth. Soap's been uncharacteristically quiet since you blew the tunnel. You'd have thought that would be all he'd talk about. Really it was a wonder of out-the-box thinking, you never would have come up with it on your own. That's what you like about Soap, he's smart but unconventional.

You rest your elbows on your knees, leaning forward to try and politely pick at your teeth. Soap leans back, closer to the helo wall. You pause, and glance over your shoulder at him.

"You good?" you ask, discomfort all but forgotten, "Hardly said two words since the tunnel."

"Fine," His eyes dart away from you. You hum, watching him as you slide your nail against the line of your teeth. He doesn't look injured, and nothing in your head is sending up alarm bells, but he's clearly got something weighing on him. Something other than you.

"I bust your eardrums or something?" You inspect the stringy piece you pull from your mouth, feeling Soap's attention on you. You can always feel his attention, but this feels different, heavier.

"Cannae think of anything else that happened," He grumbles. You glance at him again, brows raised. The fuck is he on about.

"The fuck are you on about?"

Soap uncrosses his arms, nearly throwing them apart to hold his hands up in a 'what the hell' motion. "Ya kissed me?" he reminds you.

"Oh," You narrow your eyes, glancing to the side as you try to remember, "did do that, didn't I."

"Aye," He huffs, like you've finally gotten the point.

"Ya never kissed a bloke?" You frown, confused. Doesn't make much sense to you, you thought the army was a breeding ground for that sort of thing. Sort of why you joined up. Soap stares at you with open confusion.

"Nae, ah-"

"You want to?" You offer, cutting him off. He blinks at you, opening his mouth to say something and closing it just as quickly. "Be down for a shag too," you hum, considering the offer. You could do with a shag, and Soap's fit.

"Ya-" He huffs, his cheeks ever so slightly pink, you feel your pupils dilate(interesting), "Haud yer weesht, God," He presses his hand over his eyes, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees. "Yer nae funny."

Your heart patters a little quicker in your chest. His ears are red. You think back to the tunnel, the surge of Soap's pride that had rushed through you, the excitement you'd felt, the kiss. A release of emotion, one you hadn't even thought of. You're with Soap all the time, you feel his emotions, his attention, his attraction. You didn't think it would be an issue. You... you don't think it is. You watch Soap collect himself, your hand over your mouth where your chin rests in your palm.

"Thought I told you to shut up," He grumbles, and you realize it's not the hum of the helicopter filling the space with noise, it's your purring.

"Didn't think a joke would get you blushin'," You mumble, although you think both of you know it wasn't a joke. Soap glares at you between his fingers. It's enough to quell the rush of unintended consequences. For now.

#cod x reader #x reader #cod x oc #x oc #soap x oc #m!oc #soap x m!reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap modern warfare #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #m!reader #oc: hush #demon!darlings au #they're a mess but they're so good together #Soap you gotta admit that you wanna fuck hush eventually #It doesn't help that I think demons scan their summoner to figure out what they're into #and then just perfectly embody their type #Great for Hush who didn't wanna have to change his gender #weird for Ghost who is like.... “Why's he look a little...” #Johnny you're not subtle with your preferences #staring at Die again.... 3 boyfriends....

[voxofthevoid]

Welcome to Time Travel Fuck-It Wednesday #2. We'll be here a while!

...I keep saying that, huh?

The fic is ~16k now, and while I have no earthly idea how long it will be, I've tentatively outlined seven chapters. There isn't much of a plot, except some background fix-it elements. The main story is a mixture of vibes and feels and, eventually, porn.

Spoilers for Ch 236 below. CWs for referenced MCD and underage.

“What about you, Yuuji?” Satoru asks. “Have you thought much about it? Beyond your type. I remember that—a tall woman with a big butt, hm? Good taste.”

Yuuji makes a low, throaty noise. It’s not quite embarrassment, even if his skin has grown warmer under Satoru’s fingers.

“I don’t know,” Yuuji answers after a few seconds. “I’ve never really… I mean, everyone has something about them. Pretty things, good things. I don’t know.”

“Everyone? That’s a dangerously generous way to love.”

“It’s not love.” Yuuji squirms a little, the mattress and the covers shifting with his movements, and when he resettles, his whole body is closer to Satoru’s. He’s not even sure Yuuji has noticed, brows furrowed in deep thought. “I’ve never been in love.”

“You’re only fifteen,” Satoru tells him.

Yuuji’s eyes snap to his face. He doesn’t say, I might only ever be fifteen.

But it’s there in the air between them, lending it a new weight.

Satoru shouldn’t, but—

“Do you wonder about it?”

“About—” Yuuji’s voice gives out. He clears his throat and tries again. “About being in love?”

“Yes. And everything else. The journey and the end.”

“…Not really.”

“Liar,” Satoru says, not unkindly, and Yuuji’s mouth curls into a puffy pout that’s quivering at the edges. “You’re a teenage boy. You can’t tell me you haven’t ever wanted someone.”

“I—that’s—it doesn’t really—”

“Or just thought of it,” Satoru continues, putting Yuuji out of his misery. “Kissing, touching. Sex. I remember that age, you know. Nothing wrong with wanting.”

“Even if it’s you?”

“Oh, I’ve wanted plenty in my life.”

“No,” Yuuji says, uncharacteristically solemn. “Me wanting you. Is that okay too?”

Satoru’s breath stills deep inside his lungs, long enough to become a feverish pulse. He lets it out, slow and controlled, and Yuuji’s eyes flutter shut for an instant.

There’s no surprise in him. He knew from the beginning how this would end.

“But is it me you want?” he asks. “Or am I all you have?”

Inexplicably, Yuuji laughs. It’s quiet and not mocking at all, but it’s still the one reaction Satoru wasn’t expecting.

Ducking his head, eyes heavy-lidded and hidden, Yuuji says, “I knew you’d say that. Somehow, I just knew.”

This boy, he—

“I’m not rejecting you,” Satoru hears himself say, tasting those words like they belong to a stranger. “But I’m your only real company aside from your grandfather. I’m not family, and I’m very handsome. I understand why, Yuuji. I just want to make sure you do as well.”

“Very handsome,” Yuuji repeats, and it’s louder and brighter now, the laughter in his voice. “And so humble too.”

“Humility is for the weak.”

Yuuji hums, more amused than skeptical. He looks and sounds like he couldn’t care less about the precise size of Satoru’s ego.

He looks—

“You’re also my death, Satoru-san,” he says, calm and steady and unspeakably devastating. “I want you anyway. Is that sure enough?”

Satoru swallows a noise. It wounds his throat, blood dripping acid-hot all the way down to the bones in his chest.

He says, “Yes.”

Yuuji kisses him.

Satoru sees it coming and lets it happen, and then it’s gone, the scant space between their bodies, as Yuuji presses close enough to burn them both down.

It’s a hot, needy press, all want and no finesse, and Satoru allows it without complaint until the frenzy drains out of Yuuji’s muscles and the line of his mouth gentles, pulling back a mere millimeter from Satoru’s lips before returning to him, a little more tentative and a hell of a lot sweeter, and Satoru can’t not smile into it, something hot and helium-light ripped right out of his guts, and Yuuji smiles too, letting out a long-held exhale that warms every inch of Satoru.

He curls a careful hand around the back of Yuuji’s head, palm sliding along the bristly undercut and the softer hairs above, and slots their mouths at a better angle. The newfound ease shivers down the length of their bodies, Yuuji’s smaller frame melting into Satoru’s.

Satoru parts his lips, and Yuuji, ever the eager learner, follows suit.

Warm mint floods his mouth, the familiar taste of his own toothpaste turned into sacred sacrilege on Yuuji’s tongue. Satoru sucks it clean, chasing the simple heat of flesh buried underneath.

Fingers dig into his shoulder, almost hard enough to bruise.

Yuuji’s panting into the kiss, harsh and ragged like he can’t quite breathe right.

But when Satoru pulls away, he chases his mouth, and Satoru chases him right back, holding Yuuji close as their mouths meet and part and breathe and burn. Pretty noises color the air, wet and sweet.

Nothing washes off the taste of blood in Satoru’s throat, but he wasn’t expecting that; he doesn’t deserve that.

He stops before they can go too far. Once, he’d have let Yuuji immolate his youth in a blaze of glory, not unlike and yet nothing like how Satoru had at an age no less tender. There was power in the choice, even if there would never be peace.

And he’ll still let Yuuji burn, but…not tonight, not yet.

Yuuji’s still breathing hard and staring at Satoru with stars in his eyes.

“Satoru-san,” he says, “that was…”

“Good?” Satoru fills in when Yuuji seems content to stare in stunned silence.

“Yes,” Yuuji rasps, shockingly vehement. “Yes, Satoru-san, I want—”

“Everything,” Satoru cuts in, “is yours. Tomorrow, the day after, every day until the end—everything is yours, if you want it. I promise. But for now, sleep on it.”

For a moment, it looks Yuuji will protest. It’s easy to tell why. Satoru can feel him, all that heat. And he wonders what he’ll do if Yuuji pushes. The wise thing, the right thing, the good thing—well, those are all past. But the best thing to do now would be to not indulge him.

Satoru’s not entirely sure that’s the choice he’ll make.

But in the end, he doesn’t have to choose at all. Yuuji nods once, making a visible attempt to calm down. Their entwined bodies don’t make it easy, and Satoru lets him extract his legs and angle his hips away without comment, but that’s as far as Yuuji goes, his torso still plastered against Satoru and his face still close enough that Satoru can feel his breath and his heat, all the way to the back of his throat.

“This is fine, right?” Yuuji asks. “You’re still staying.”

It’s not quite a question, but Satoru answers anyway. “As long as you want me to.”

“Good,” Yuuji breathes, another layer of tension draining from his body. “Thank you, Satoru-san.”

“Good night, Yuuji.”

It takes a while, Yuuji’s mind and body both clearly too awake, but he’s a very well-behaved boy through the torment, only breathing into Satoru’s shoulder and throat, deep and shallow in turn, until the call of sleep grows stronger than the bite of desire.

Satoru holds him through it, arms around Yuuji’s chest and face buried in his hair. It’s sinfully soft, the fruity scent of his shampoo not quite overpowering the smell of his sweat. It’s not familiar, but it’s not unfamiliar either. Satoru never held the old Yuuji like this, but he touched him and was touched by him plenty.

And Satoru never kissed that sunshine boy, but there’s a story he will never tell this Yuuji:

You kissed me once. I was dead. You closed my eyes and kissed my mouth and told me to rest, and when you died, it was still my blood there on your mouth

#goyuu #jjk #jjk snippets #wip wednesday #jujutsu kaisen #my fic #fic: everything burned

[llamagoddessofficial]

Ok so this just popped into my head like, 20 seconds ago and I had to ask. What would the moth boys do if they accidentally hurt mc. Like, Red pinched too hard and bruised them, Sand pulled their hair a little too hard when grooming, and Skull accidentally scratched them when nabbing something off of them, or something like that?

uh oh...

Sans: He’s very sweet and apologetic.. almost too sweet. He probably accidentally pulled her hair. After she makes it clear he hurt her, he goes all cooey and soft, gently petting the area and appearing visibly remorseful, antennae back against his skull and wings low & tucked in. It’s hard to stay (or even BE) mad at him, when he clearly didn’t mean to, and he’s so upset that he caused damage. Not forgiving him is impossible.

In his mind, he’s berating himself. He’s supposed to be her source of comfort and relaxation... he can’t afford to ruin it with slips like that, he can’t afford to let all those possessive thoughts come through. He needs to control himself better.

Red: It would most likely happen when he’s in his crazy mood- refusing to let her leave his enclosure despite her protests and frustration. It’s a reminder of the power imbalance between them. He loses control for one moment, and she’s yelping in pain, suddenly sporting a big dark bruise on her arm. 

... It would snap him out of his state instantly. Nothing makes him lose his insane edge like seeing the consequences of his actions.

Much like Sans, he gets very gentle and apologetic- though not to Sans’ borderline ‘hurt puppy’ degree, he just gets quiet and cautious, obviously ashamed of himself, with a bowed physique as he gently checks that she’s not too badly hurt. He never intends to cause her pain, he just wanted some fun, it gets so boring there without her. 

Though she was initially upset with him, his uncharacteristic slowness and discomfort means she doesn’t really hold it against him.

Skull: Oh.

Oh no. 

He hurt her? His mate? He damaged the one good thing in his life? He’s intensely reminded of how small and fragile she is. He probably only gave her a little nick, but as soon as he sees even a trace of blood on his claws he flies into a panic and runs away from her, vanishing into his den. Trying to follow him in makes him frightening and aggressive; snarling at her, driving her off. He won’t even look at her.

He’s terrified. He has nightmares about accidentally killing her. Squeezing her too tight in a hug and breaking her bones, holding his claws the wrong way and cutting her into ribbons, pushing her over without realising and making her hit her head funny. He hasn’t been this afraid since before the zoo rescued him.

It’ll take a while for him to build up trust with himself again. It’ll be at least a few days before he’ll let her come close, minimum a week before she can touch him without him getting agitated.

He still doesn’t know that he’s so much better than he thinks he is.

#llamagines #zoo moth sanses au #moth sanses au #mc: It's just a light scrape... I've had worse falling off my bike #skull [@ himself]: you SCRATCH wife? you SCRATCH her body like the CAVE WALL? oh. jail for skull. jail for skull for ONE THOUSAND YEARS

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 [𝐋𝐮𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

If you want to support me and read my other works that won't be on Tumblr, you can always do it on my Boosty~

Part 1

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: uncle!Luocha x niece!fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, a hint of incest, yandere, some wet fantasies of Luocha.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. 黄龄 - 只有猫知道

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

I'm sorry, i completely forgot to upload the second part to Tumblr, although i wrote it a week ago, ahahahah. Someday i'll stop forgetting that i have a Tumblr, and will upload here all the dozens of works that i have written, but were too lazy to translate it into english XD

He thought you were mature enough to realize who really cared for you. A cruel time separated the two of you, but Luocha knew it would be good for you. Separation breeds longing, and longing spreads the petals of dormant feelings. You missed him, and it would be foolish to hide it, because Luocha could see in your face how much you missed him. Of course, because he was the only one who supported you, the only one who cared about you, and the only one you could depend on. And that is the unchanging truth.

Luocha acted rashly as he continued to chastise himself for impatience, which was uncharacteristic of him. With your departure, you left him in a slight state of confusion, covered with a fleur of inexplicable enthusiasm. He replays in his memories the silhouette of your figure, the velvety softness of your skin, those lovely cheeks powdered with embarrassment, and doesn't understand how everything could end so badly… Luocha is a reserved person, patient and compliant when the situation demands it, and he never planned to act so abruptly with you, now wondering what prompted him to do exactly that? You were too beautiful in your loss and gray apathy, which he skillfully decorated with bright colors with just your presence. It's very pleasant to realize that, like life-giving water and light that make fading flowers bloom, he has awakened the old warmth in your wounded heart. You are indeed like the enchanting white lily flower, pure and innocent, that he tried to defame.

And Luocha has no regrets. His only regret is that he made the first move too early.

You both need a little more time. You should get over the stress, calm down, and then you're bound to come to the conclusion that your beloved uncle simply couldn't have wanted to hurt you. And Luocha needs to tame her demons. It's not time to set them free yet, because then he risks destroying what he has been building so diligently for years. And how lucky that you left him a small gift, thanks to which he holds on for a whole week, so as not to snap and show up at your doorstep.

Luocha can clearly see his long fingers sliding over your skin, squeezing your seductive sides as he makes his way to your breasts. Oh, if you only knew how much effort it took for him to restrain himself from falling into that elastic warm flesh. Luocha wanted so badly to feel your nipples harden on his tongue, wanted to know what your naked breasts would look like when you lay beneath him, wanted to hear what your voice would sound like, relaxed and quiet, soaked in pure pleasure. And only these thoughts keep his insane impulses in check.

It's so exciting to be standing at your door. No, not because Luocha feels guilty, but because he can't wait to see you again. He knows you're home, he's seen your car parked outside, but you take so long to open the door that your uncle gets worried. You couldn't have known he was coming, couldn't have seen him coming up to your house, could you? And if you did, do you still hold a grudge against him?

— I'm coming, coming... — Luocha hears your tired voice outside the door and your slow footsteps after the next bell rings, and all worries seem to melt away in sweet anticipation. He'll see you again.

As soon as your footsteps are hushed and your uncle realizes you've come to the door, an uncomfortable silence hangs. You must have seen him through the peephole, but he doesn't hear the click of the lock or any other sounds. As soon as this door opens, he'll be reunited with you, his beloved niece, whose separation lasted like an eternity, but why are you delay? Should he say something?

— What are you doing here? — you ask quietly, and Luocha hears your hand press against the door on the other side.

— Y/N, I'm sorry. I know I've been acting weird, it won't happen again.

«And I'm not lying to you, Y/N»

— Now everything will be different.

«That's right. Now I'll do everything I can to make you want to reach out to me»

— Open the door, let's talk. I'm worried about you.

«No one else in this world cares more about you than I do»

After a few seconds of stifling silence, Luocha hears you cough and his heart flutters in his chest. Are you sick?

There's a loud click, and the doors slowly swing open in front of the tall blond man. Luocha has prepared much better today than in your last meeting. He wants to erase the line that separates you, so he chose the best suit he had in his wardrobe. The black color contrasts so vividly with the white robe that you are usually used to seeing on him, and a small sweet gift in a bag in his hand should cheer you up and diversify the list of familiar treats that he shared with you after the reception.

— I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting guests, so the house is a bit of a mess, but you can come in if you want, — you open the door, and Luocha’s gaze is instantly drawn to the way you wrap your palms around your shaking shoulders, leaning unnaturally against the doorjamb. Your face looks so exhausted, your hair is disheveled as if you haven't touched a comb in days, and your t-shirt and homemade shorts look untidily rumpled.

— Y/N, are you shivering? — long fingers tighten on the handle of the paper bag while worried green irises run over your tired face.

— It's just a cold, nothing special. Like I said, I just wasn't waiting...

— I'm sorry... — your uncle whispers unintelligibly, and just as you're about to ask what he's apologizing for, Luocha leans forward, suddenly placing her palm on top of your head before bending down and pressing his lips to your forehead.

— W-what are you...!

— You have a fever. How long have you been sick? Have you taken any medicine? We need to get you to bed, — Luocha grips your hands anxiously, reflexively pressing his index and middle fingers against one of your wrists, feeling your rapid pulse.

— I don't… I don't know, a couple of days. I thought it was a cold, so I just slept and…

— Where's your bedroom? — your uncle doesn't even seem to be listening, hurriedly slamming the door and casually leaving the package on the table in the hallway.

It's not exactly what he was hoping for.

✧ ✧ ✧

Luocha involuntarily remembers you when you were very young, when he also helped you cope with a cold, hurrying from work as soon as possible after your mother's call. You've grown up, but you still look charmingly helpless when he puts a pill in your mouth, holding a glass of water to your lips. A small, sweet creature, shivering under the covers. Your uncle's heart is splitting apart at the thought of you feeling bad, but surely you can forgive him this little sin of enjoying the fact that you need him?

— Why didn't you call me?

— I didn't want to bother you about nothing.

«Lie»

— Y/N, whatever happens between us, I'll always be ready to come and help you... I know it's hard to forgive my transgression, but you are my family, and that's always the case. Please don't take on any more burdens that you can't carry alone. You're not alone.

There is some peace in wiping your forehead with a damp towel while you pout guiltily, hiding your lips under a fluffy blanket. Luocha wanted to take the first step towards changing your attitude towards him, but in the end he remains for you only a caring uncle who worries about your health. If it wasn't necessary, he would have hated himself the second he allowed his intentions to falter, but now… now he will allow you to see only your close relative and a doctor in him once again, saving your fragile life.

— Thank you... — you mumble softly into the blanket, guiltily averting your gaze, and Luocha's hand stops hanging over your forehead, and the light green eyes widen, fixing their gaze on your trembling eyelashes. — I'm sorry that I, well… ran away then.

Oh, are you really apologizing to him? He didn't hear it, did he?

— I think we were both out of our minds that day. It's okay, — Luocha smiles softly, tucking the wet towel back into the small bowl of water on your bedside table.

— I always thought you were too kind, — you chuckle wryly, then cough and wrap yourself even tighter in the blanket.

— Is it bad?

— I don't know... I'm not sure I deserve it.

— You deserve all the best in the world, Y/N, — did he really say that out loud? For a moment, Luocha’s heart froze in his chest with a prick of consternation, but another of your laughs made the man relax. — Ahem... Okay, you need to rest.

He really should leave you now. Although your uncle really doesn't want to leave you so soon, you'll hardly be happy if he continues to sit on your bed until you fall asleep. He'd like to see you sleep...

— W-wait! — as soon as Luocha gets up from the edge of your bed, you suddenly take your hand out from under the covers, wrapping it around the man's wrist, forcing him to sit back down. What's gotten into you? Do you want him to stay? Why?

— Do you need something else? — he regains his composure, as does that eternal charming smile on Luocha's lips when he covers your palm with his own. Your hands are so small and so cold. If only he could hold them in his for a little longer, but it will definitely make you uncomfortable...

— Since you've traveled so far to see me, maybe... Will you stay the night?

Oh, are you afraid to be alone? Luocha wanted to offer you the same thing, but it would sound… a little awkward from him. But if you ask him to do it yourself, how can he refuse his sweet niece?

— If you need it, Y/N, of course I'll stay. On my way to the bedroom, I noticed a sofa in your living room, so I'll spend the night on it.

— No! — you squeeze Luocha’s wrist harder, suddenly exclaiming loudly before you cough again, burying your nose in the blanket. — I... Can I ask you to lie down with me?

Your uncle allowed for the possibility that you might miss him, but this… Why are you asking him for something like this after the way he behaved in your last meeting?

«Do you really...»

No, no, your attitude towards him couldn't have changed in a week, it's just impossible. But even if that's the case, he still shouldn't let his guard down. You are so seductively asking him for something like this, probably completely unaware of how he feels after such an innocent request that fell from your lips, but he should keep his cool.

Luocha opens his eyes wide and raises eyebrows, looking at you peeking out from under the warm blanket.

— I'm not sure if that would be a good idea...

— P-please... I'm so cold, — you say pitifully, and Luocha falls silent with his lips open before he closes mouth, slowly running his thumb along the back of your palm.

He'll be able to touch you. He'll be able to hug you. He'll be able to inhale the smell coming from your body, and not the things that you recklessly left in his house. He'll be able to hear you breathing steadily, slowly sinking into sleep.

You're probably not yourself because of the fever. What if in the morning, when the temperature drops, you get mad at him again? Luocha can't take that risk, but he's so damn eager to agree to your tempting offer. He's not a gambler, he's used to sticking to a premeditated strategy, even if it will lead him to the goal only after many years. Luocha was willing to wait as long as it took, but wasn't his goal to make you want him? Doesn't what you're asking him for mean that your attitude towards him has already begun to change?

— Okay. I'll stay with you.

Though Luocha can't see your lips, your eyes tell him much more when you loosen your grip on his wrist, tucking your hand back under the blanket. You're glad. And he's the one who makes you smile again.

Luocha gets out of bed, carefully shrugging off his jacket. His hands reflexively reached for the belt on his trousers, but suddenly only paused for a moment on the buckle before moving to the tie, carefully untying it around the collar of the white shirt.

It's so unusual to get on your bed while you crawl closer to the wall, giving up your place on the next pillow and turning to face him. You've never spent a night together before, although Luocha would be blatantly lying if he said that he never wanted this, especially since the day you returned to him two years later.

You sniffle softly, huddling on your side of the bed as Luocha lifts the covers, settling down next to you before covering you both again now. Ah… your bed smells exactly like that bra he keeps carefully under his pillow. A sweet, alluring scent that envelops his heart with warmth, like this very blanket. Everything here smells of you.

— Luocha, your suit...

— Don't worry, I'll come home before my shift.

— You're leaving in the morning? — you ask in an almost upset voice. Probably, Luocha is already asleep and has the most charming dream of all possible.

— If you want, I can try to take a day off...

— No, no, no! No need, I can handle it on my own.

He didn't answer you. He should probably just close his eyes and try to fall asleep, but how hard is it to do that when Luocha hears your breathing so clearly… But it gets even more difficult when you move closer, pressing your forehead against his collarbones. You're shaking, desperately holding onto your own shoulders, and your uncle only hesitates for a couple of seconds before succumbing to the irresistible urge to hug you. He knows like no one else that the chills will stop tormenting you only when the antipyretic takes effect, but his heart breaks to shreds when he sees you so defenseless and reaching for him.

— Thank you… — this is the last thing Luocha heard before the silence in the room was filled with your charming snuffling, and your body relaxed in his arms, gradually ceasing to tremble.

Luocha is a little ashamed that he was coming to you with the intention of destroying this wall separating you from him, however… Why did he feel it crack so clearly at the moment when you first called him by his name?

— Good night, Y/N.

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #luocha #luocha x reader #luocha x you

[telleroftime]

Coffee ||| Gavin Reed x Reader

You've always had a crush on the unapproachable detective, and finally it seems he's returning the interest.

———————————————

Request - Anonymous : Can I request a Gavin Reed x Reader. I don't really care what, but can it be fluff? :)

Pairing: Gavin Reed x Gender Neutral ! Reader

Relationship: Romantic

Tone: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Oneshot Masterlist

A/N: I’m finally getting to answering requests. University has been... something alright. I'm sorry for the wait. There will be more Gavin fluff to come in the future too, if this wasn’t fluffy enough. Plus the other requests I'm yet to write! (Reposting this because I had to fix the tag issue)

———————————————

It was nearing midday when you arrived at the Detroit Police Station to start your shift, two cups of steaming coffee in your left hand, carried neatly in a cardboard holder. The bright light of the high sun was enough to fuel the smile on your face. The gentle breeze of late spring pushed you forward. Simply put, you were lucky today. 

The altered hours meant you didn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn, instead sleeping in for a little while longer. You could take your morning routine slow and steady, and finish writing and preparing the documents for the day to come. Your apartment was cleaned before you could so much as dirty it, and you were practically ready to return home from the job you were yet to begin.

It also meant that when you left your home you had just missed the initial wave of customers and usuals you always saw queuing up inside of your favourite café. It was empty when you entered – your ride parked outside – and it was empty when you left the building, satisfied with your order. Now, you were scanning your DPD identification card on the staff entry after greeting the receptionists. There was a very obvious bounce of eagerness in your step that caused the small heels of your work shoes to clack against the dark, tiled floor.

Clack clack clack as you walked through the small plastic gates that marked the border of one large room from the other.

To your surprise, as you walked along the windowed wall, the bullring was primarily empty. There were no heads peeking from past the plexiglass that functioned as dividers. No laughter of the detectives that worked diligently at their decorated desks. And other than the quiet voices of policemen coming from the break room and the Captain's muffled responses to a phone call coming from inside his office, the overall room was uncharacteristically quiet. Even as you moved to where your eyes kept flickering, constantly glancing at the empty desk of a particular detective, the silence persevered for long enough to etch a childish pout onto your lips. Like most other seats, Gavin’s was empty.

Gavin Reed. Through the weeks you've got to know him, and even since just starting your job as a forensic pathologist at the station, you started to recognise your blooming crush for the detective. And ever since you have, your actions were quite the opposite of 'subtle'. In your eyes, there was no reason to pretend they weren't there. You liked the guy, and you weren't going to hide from those emotions.

You've left him chocolates; small snacks; little trinkets you believed he would like. Well, trinkets that disappeared from his near-empty desk the very next day, but no matter. You even started leaving some cheesy pick up lines that made you chuckle, written neatly on cream sticky notes you carried in your coat pocket out of a forced habit. You tried suggesting outings, yet he always ignored your suggestions. Brushed you off for the lack of a better word.

And now, with the steadily cooling coffee cups in hand, it wasn’t much different.

Slowly, you stepped around the short wall and towards the empty desk, glancing around in hopes of catching his eye. You knew he was here, if the slight blue glow of the power switch on the monitor was anything to go by. His jacket was draped on the back of his chair, and a small drop of a dark drink was splashed next to a ring of moisture. There were papers on the desk too, placed a little ways away from where a mug had obviously been placed, paired with blurry images of undisclosed origin. A new case he was working on you assumed. 

Nevertheless, with another look around, your right hand gingerly pushed the documents to the side, not bothering to neaten them into an even stack. You prioritised removing the paper coffee cup from the holder, politely labelled 'Hot Stuff' as per your request, and placing it down in the now clear centre of the surface. You just hoped he wasn't too full or caffeinated from whatever he had beforehand.

Quickly reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your trusty sticky notes and reached for the ballpoint pen that sat in the breast pocket of your work issued shirt. Tapping the butt end of the pen against your chin, you blinked in thought before your lips twitched up and you scribbled down a little message on the small square of paper, a terrible pun you hoped would make his day. You didn't hesitate sticking it on the white plastic of the cup.

“Words cannot espresso how much you bean to me.”

You practically flinched at the sound of the deep voice that appeared out of nowhere, your right hand darting for the remaining cup of coffee in the holder to keep it steady as you spun around, sucking in a sharp breath at the proximity you had to Gavin. A breath that caused the man to take a step back with a slight cock of his head. Detective Reed was standing in front of you, his body weight resting on his hip as his arms crossed in front of his chest, eyebrows raised in what you assumed was humour.

And yet neither of you spoke until the silence began to threaten to thicken in the layer of awkwardness.

"Sorry detective," you began, averting your eyes and looking anywhere but at him, "I didn't see you at your desk so I thought I'd just leave the coffee here. It's still hot."

What was hot was the heat in your face, your cheeks and ears no doubt a shade darker than before. Your lips had contorted into a mix of a wonky smirk and the visible effort of you trying to straighten them. Your jaw was clenched, your breathing forced down to a steady pace on your will alone. Refusing to look back, finding the uneven flicker of a distant light quite entertaining, your eyes moved to him when a short puff of hair escaped him.

You could see a sparkle in his dark eyes, the very same you fell in love with. The very same you bought coffee for. Yet this was the first time he willingly confronted you instead of keeping his distance. This-

“What are you doing this weekend?”

What?

With the way his brows furrowed, causing his scar to crease against his skin in the process, you were certain that your bewildered expression was caught by the man. However, other than actively avoiding your wondrous gaze, he didn’t take any action to move or to clarify his words and the meaning behind them. The most he did was readjust his crossed arms and scratch the stubble at the base of his jaw.

“Nothing. I should be free.”

A beat of silence passed, your heart fluttering with hope. Then he nodded.

“Meet me at the café down the street at two in the afternoon. Saturday.”

Did he…?

“Okay!”

You felt your spirit physically lift your body, eagerness blooming in your mind at Gavin's words. Genuine joy made your eyes no doubt shine, feeling them grow wetter as more of his words processed and your vision grew slightly blurry because of the saline. He just asked you out on a date. You couldn't believe it. The grin on your lips couldn’t have been bigger as you nodded, feeling your body grow in energy with the increasing serotonin. Your cheeks stung at the intensity of your smile. You were so happy.

However, before you could add to the conversation, your lips frozen ajar, you heard your name be called from the other side of the room, forcing you to excuse yourself and officially start your shift.

“I’ll see you then, Detective!”

Gavin Reed has asked you out on a date.

———————————————

Oneshot Masterlist

#gavin reed #gavin reed oneshot #gavin reed x reader #gavin x reader #dbh gavin reed #dbh gavin #gavin reed fluff #detroit being human #dbh #dbh oneshot #fluff #reader insert #oneshot

[scarletsaphire]

Maddie has a quiet moment to herself, but then hears a sound coming from somewhere within Fentonworks.

---

For Ectoberhaunt day 13: Horror Flick

The downstairs of Fentonworks was uncharacteristically quiet. Jack had taken the GAV to the dump, looking to find some usable parts for their newest invention. Jazz was volunteering at the library. Danny was... well, Maddie didn't know where exactly Danny was. It had become far more trouble to keep an eye on him than it was worth, and he always came home safe and sound. For the most part. That meant that Maddie had the house to herself for a little while.

Normally, she wouldn't care. She'd hole herself up in the lab, working on something. She would have been doing that now, if it wasn't for the part they were missing. She could try working on a different project, but that might end with her losing her mojo for this one. So she was taking Jazz's advice and taking a well deserved break, at least until Jack got back. 

They hadn't had a lot of food in the kitchen, unsurprisingly; none of them had ever been very talented in the kitchen. But Maddie had found some tea, and there had been some leftover lo mein shoved in the back corner of the fridge that was good enough. Certainly not the most orthodox of meals, but since when has Maddie ever been orthodox?

Maddie wasn't used to the quiet of everyday life. She was used to the sound of her husband's excited chatter, to the whirring, clanging sounds of machinery. Now, all she could hear was the occasional car passing by outside, the sound of her chewing, and the soft padding of...something. That was weird. Normally, Maddie was pretty good at recognizing what a sound was. It was important to be aware and vigilant as a ghost hunter. But this sound wasn't one she recognized, and it was coming from somewhere inside the house.

Maddie turned away from the window, scanning the living room. Nothing looked out of place. The couch hadn't been moved, the TV was still turned off,  the windows were shut tight. It could have been coming from upstairs, perhaps? She turned towards the stairs, and immediately froze.

On the ceiling near the staircase was a ghost, crawling on the ceiling exorcist style. His head was flipped backwards, staring down at Maddie with glazed eyes. His face was a mess, covered in scratches and bruises, and his tongue lulled out, flopping around. His white hair was matted together, splotches of blood and dirt clearly visible. 

Maddie nearly dropped her cup of tea, but was able to stable herself enough to set it down on the counter. She turned back to the specter with a scowl. "Daniel James Fenton, put your head back on right and get off the ceiling this instant."

Danny laughed, contorting his body inhumanly and putting his head back on straight before floating gently to the floor. "I got you good, though," he said, still laughing.

Maddie shook her head with a sigh. "Yes, you did. But what happened to your face? Who was it this time?" Maddie reached into the upper cupboard, grabbing the modified first aid kit they kept for Danny.

Danny sat at the kitchen table, propping his head up on his hand. "Johnny and Shadow. Got tied to their motorcycle and dragged behind them for a mile or so."

Maddie hummed, and started to clean out some of Danny's scrapes. He didn't even flinch at the antibacterial wipes. "And was this his fault, or was this your bad idea?"

Danny smiled sheepishly. "Can't it be both?" 

"What were you trying to do?" Maddie asked.

"We wanted to see if I could slow him down by acting like a kite. Or if it would make me fly faster. Turns out, I am not good enough at body modification to kite myself. Yet."

Maddie sighed. "Yet, meaning you're going to keep trying?" Danny just smiled at her in lieu of an answer. "You're just like your father. Now, space bandages?"

Danny nodded, and continued chatting as Maddie grabbed the bandages from the first aid kit. She liked this much more than quiet.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #maddie fenton #ectoberhaunt23 #day 13

[platonicreaderinsertfanfic]

Was Your Friend About to Quietly Go Rogue?

Word count: 820 “You’re going with Naruto?” you asked, searching Kakashi’s one visible eye for how much trouble this would cause. He nodded. “Yamato is coming as well. If anyone asks about us, can you help cover for our absence?” “Sure, although I’m far from a brilliant liar.” "I know." Kakashi almost chuckled as he stood casually in front of the card table you were using to chop vegetables. Hands shoved into his pockets, partially silhouetted in the opening of the sturdy military tent, he may as well have been talking about visiting your family for a game night, instead of a personal mission which sounded dangerously like insubordination. Even with his headband covering his left eye, and his cloth mask covering the lower half of his face, it was easy enough to read his smile. Perhaps he was about to do something uncharacteristically stupid, but he looked the same as always, wearing a green flak vest and holster pouch. With the village destroyed and construction constantly ongoing, you had been assigned to peel and chop a sizable pile of potatoes, each of which you dropped into provided buckets of water once it was in quarters for easy boiling later. “Why all the secrecy?” He shrugged. “I doubt Danzo would approve of our journey.” “The new Hokage?” Usually Kakashi was more aware of the political ramifications of people’s actions than you were, but this seemed unwise. Although, you obviously didn’t know all the facts about the situation. Civilians rarely did. “The temporary, unconfirmed Hokage, yes.” 

While you knew almost nothing of the man, it was clear Kakashi didn’t approve of this arrangement, so it seemed likely you would not care for the new Leaf Village leader either. Resuming peeling a potato, you wondered how serious this self-appointed mission of Kakashi’s was? The problem was, even if he was setting out on a suicide operation, he would likely be talking to you with his hands in his pockets and ever-calm demeanor, just like he was now. You knew that from personal experience. Sighing, your shoulders slumped as you planted your hands on the tabletop and leaned forward. “If you’re doing something the new Hokage doesn’t like, how many rules are you breaking?” “I’m not sure of the exact number. Maybe I’m technically not breaking any.” You stared at the tip of your knife, which rested on the cutting board. “Worst case scenario?” “You used to be an optimist.”  “I’m a realist who hopes Providence has my back. Answer the question.” After a long, slow exhale, Kakashi rocked back on his heels. “Danzo gets back from his trip, discovers Yamato and I left the village with Naruto, and decides to make an example of me. So I might be facing a demotion. Maybe a short prison sentence, if he’s feeling particularly harsh.” Your stomach twisted at his words, but your face didn't flinch as you continued staring down the tabletop. “Very well.” Leaning forward into your line of sight, Kakashi gave you a thumbs up, his right eye squinting almost closed as he smiled at you. “I hope you’ll visit me in prison if it comes to that, right?” He teased. Still clutching your vegetable peeler, you raised your fist and brought it down on top of his head playfully, squashing his spiky silver hair. “Idiot.” Pulling your hand away, you grinned back. “You’re my friend. Of course I’d visit.” Better than him not coming back at all, which was how you assumed your friendship would end one day. Of course, he had died right here in the village not long ago, so there really wasn’t anywhere safe, for either of you. “Don’t worry.” Your friend’s voice was quiet but reassuring.  “Kakashi?” Captain Yamato stuck his head into the tent. “I’ll be seeing you.” Your friend raised a hand in a wave, and then he was gone. Picking up another potato, you muttered. “I hope so. I really hope so.” Ever since Kakashi had rescued you nineteen years ago, back when both of you were still children, you’d always known his ninja world was dangerous. Heck, your younger brother had commented that he didn’t know how you had the courage to befriend ninjas when you knew how likely they were to one day shatter the friendship by dying. You thought you had grown accustomed to the knowledge, accepted the future pain in exchange for a handful of interesting friends who could manage feats a civilian like you could only dream of. But this felt different. Political problems at home couldn’t be solved with force. If Kakashi got himself in trouble with the Hokage, there would be little to do but watch it unfold. You snorted as you quickly quartered a potato with two violent strikes of your knife. Honestly, why worry about this? Nothing you could do to change events, only try to alleviate the pain of bad outcomes if they came to pass…

Author's note: This is my first attempt at writing anything for a Naruto character. So if you've got feedback, then I'm interested to hear it. (But you don't have to say anything.)

#Kakashi Hatake #Naruto Shippuden #Kakashi x Reader #reader insert #platonic #gender neutral reader

[muzzleroars]

(Sorry if i sent this twice but the notification telling me the ask had been sent didn't appear the first time, i believe the ask structure is better this time, so it's a win i think.)

Hi! A quick question, how would a fallen Gabriel react to the fallen Michael, Uriel, and Raphael?, and what would be their reaction about knowing of the relationship he has with V1, a machine.

(Also how would this go down if they chose the minimal violence route?)

I can only imagine the awkwardness.

Love your art!

(see this!)

hehe fallen siblings...i think gabriel might initially be shocked, but it wears off fairly quickly - after all, he had been one of god's most fervent angels before his fall, so it shouldn't surprise him that perhaps each of the other archangels, being made in the same mold, had faith less perfect than it seemed. really i think he would be glad to offer them aid, having a bit more experience if not much, but largely just wanting to provide them with sympathetic company. however, how open they are to that varies, though gabriel pretty accurately predicts who he'll have the easiest time with and so starts there.

and predicting correctly, raphael would instantly take up his offer in his desperate need of company - he is the most affable of god's angels, and the desolation of hell may be worse to him than his punishment proper. i think he would also be the most understanding of gabe's relationship with v1, although VERY surprised. and definitely awkward at first lol however, raphael is the best at understanding relationships can't be judged quickly, and all he would need to see is the way they move together in a fight to know why gabriel had fallen in love. they're actually quite a charming little couple to him, and v1's constant entertaining energy would actually help to soothe some of raphael's unending fatigue. plus, he finds that it has many leftover quirks from humanity, which he treasures greatly when the husks of hell seem absolutely terrified of him (so sad, he wants to offer them comfort as well....)

uriel is more difficult, attempting to fully isolate himself in some cloister of heresy that he refuses to leave - his knowledge as a fallen angel is much more limited and with feverish, fiery hands that destroy any book he holds, he's become uncharacteristically aggressive when his solitude is interrupted. but gabriel would seek him out second, hoping a combination of raphael's soothing words and his own promise of his ice cold body balancing out uriel's burning hot one may do enough to calm him. he's slow to come around and still rather solitary, but that's really always been uriel's way...and he's a bit less convinced than raphael about gabriel and v1 lol naturally very introverted, he tends to stay quiet about it...but also naturally very curious, he likes to spy on v1 in an attempt to figure it out and what gabriel sees it. he is VERY shy about actually interacting with it though and tends to dart from it any time it seeks him out, to the point where they probably lose uriel a few times.

michael is, of course, the problem. i'm going to talk about him in detail in an ask coming up in a second, but he's an angel of violence who's decided the whole of creation has been judged impure. if the three other archangels are fallen as well, it's only more proof to him that they have all failed and must be destroyed...so he's not an easy case. all that may stop him from being entirely hostile to them is his own natural instinct to be protective of his siblings, and it's much more difficult to condemn all three when they come to him together. it may break his heart to see them all suffering, doing just enough to convince him to at least stay for now. however he does NOT accept v1 lol again, he is determined to ignore its presence and while he would PREFER to dismantle it, it, gabriel, and even raphael seem pretty against the idea. he does absolutely harbor the idea that v1 isn't good enough for gabriel and to make it worse, they also fight over blood resources (v1 claiming it's unfair since it NEEDS fresh blood and he doesn't!!!) so he's traded open hostility for passive-aggression, but he also refuses to admit to it any time it's pointed out

#so similarly chaotic family dynamic lol #raphael always just wants everyone getting along #but uriel is studying v1 like a bug he's terrified of #while michael thinks it's the reason god left everyone #v1 continues to vibe #cake answers #fallen gabriel #raphael #uriel #michael

[sunlightdances]

Congrats on the 2500 followers! 🤩🙌

For your drabbles ask - Buckey with Kisses for a cover pretty please? 😏😘

Thank you! Here you go, hope you enjoy :)

Bucky is scowling. Bucky is nearly always scowling, but he actually has a reason this time. Honestly, he has no idea how he gets into these situations.

There's a faint sound in his earpiece, and his scowl increases.

"Can you breathe quieter?" He asks, a low growl.

A scoff. "No."

He grinds his teeth, wondering why Steve insisted on the two of you doing this recon mission. Bucky doesn't do recon. He acts. He leaves the recon to someone else and takes action.

It’s the waiting. He hates waiting.

“You need to relax.” Your voice is low in his ear. He suppresses a shiver. He also hates this, hates the way you’ve dug your way under his skin. 

He hears another noise, and tilts his head to the left. Footsteps, softly approaching. Not close to him, but closer to where you are. 

“Incoming.” He says quietly, rising to his feet. 

This is one thing he hasn’t forgotten about being the Soldier. Slow, steady, measured footsteps lead him in your direction, his movements nearly silent.

He sees you out of the corner of his eye, and tracks the movement down the hall. The footsteps fade, and then you’re alone. You look at him with wide eyes.

“How the hell did you get over here so fast?” 

“Super soldier.” 

Another scoff. 

“There was someone down the hall.” He explains. “We need to move positions.”

“If someone was down the hall, then we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be,” you argue. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He lowers himself into a crouch next to you. He tries not to inhale your perfume, and honestly, he feels like creep, because it’s not strong enough to be something you put on this morning, it’s probably from the day before, but he can still smell it -- something warm and woodsy. 

It makes his head spin, just a little. 

Suddenly footsteps grow louder. Again, Bucky is the one who acts, so without thinking, he’s on his feet, hauling you upright, and tugging you into a dark alcove, his hand over your mouth as you squeak in surprise. 

“Hold still,” he says quietly. 

To your credit, you listen. He’s actually noticed that while you bicker and argue with him, you’ve never actually outright refused to do something he thought was the best option... maybe Steve was right about pairing the two of you together.

Distracted, he nearly jumps out of his skin when you inch closer, your back completely pressed against his front. 

“What--”

“Shh!” You shush him, the footsteps growing louder. 

“We’re not hidden enough--” He hisses, and his mind begins to whirl with options as he tries to figure out how to get them out of this. 

“Just--” you turn around quickly, and before he can think, you’re pressing your lips against his, and his brain short circuits. 

The mission, the objective, the threat... it all fades away, fizzles out like the sparks in his brain as he tries to comprehend what’s happening. He quickly decides whatever else is happening isn’t important, and he pulls you closer, strong arms banding around your waist and getting rid of the last few inches of space between the two of you. 

The moment ends, but you both stay in each other’s space, breath mingling, eyes still closed. It’s quiet around you. Finding a little bit of his sense, he listens intently, and hears nothing. No one else around, no one else to break the spell. 

“That was--” You start, and he shakes his head, not wanting to hear you say it’s a mistake. 

“Later,” he urges, and he hopes you can hear the way his voice softens, because he doesn’t want you to think he thinks it’s a mistake either... his brain is still topsy turvy. 

“Okay.” You agree, uncharacteristic, and he hopes he’s not imagining the hope in your voice.

.

Two hours later, you’re back in the quinjet, both pointedly not looking at each other. 

He doesn’t really know what to do. It’s been a very long time since he’s done this, since he’s cared enough about anyone to want to do this. 

“This is weird, right?” You ask suddenly, startling him. “The way we’re ignoring each other?” 

“I’m not ignoring you.” 

You turn to face him. “Are we going to talk about it? You said later, and I’d rather do this before we get back.” 

“It’s not--” he struggles to find the right words. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. Not if you don’t want it to. We were on mission--” 

“Do you want it to mean something?” 

He groans, “God. We’re not going to keep doing this back and forth.” He stands, taking a deep breath. “We did it to keep our cover, but I wanted to do it. I have wanted to do it.” 

“Oh, good.” You say, almost casually, though there’s nothing casual about this decision, and then you’re back in his arms again, kissing him breathless. This time, he doesn’t hesitate. 

He’s tired of pretending he doesn’t search you out in a crowded room, he’s tired of pretending his gaze doesn’t automatically find yours every time you’re within a few feet. He’s tired of pretending he doesn’t want you the way he does.

Like he said earlier, he hates waiting. It makes him on edge, and this back and forth with you that’s been going on from the minute you met is wearing on him. He’s not scowling anymore. Not when you’re looking at him like you want nothing more than to keep kissing him until the quinjet docks back at the Avengers campus. 

“You think Steve put us together today on purpose?” You ask when you finally break apart. 

“Probably.” Bucky rolls his eyes fondly. 

“I’m glad.” You whisper, looking at him shyly. “I thought you didn’t want to do this with me... like, the mission, or being with me... any of it. You were so grumpy earlier.” 

He rolls his eyes again. “According to everyone, I’m always grumpy.” 

“I like you. Grumpy and all.” 

Something blooms inside of him at your words. He never thought that this day would turn out this way. 

He thinks he’ll have to thank Steve for partnering the two of you up. 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #prompt fic

[metalheadcowboy]

I don’t know if you’re still taking requests in particularly for writing, if not you can just react to this idea that’s been banging about in my head rent free and it’s the scene where Billy and Steve come to blows at the Byers house except Steve is a trans man, already has had a rough night, with the binder on and hasn’t taken it off since the day before and he’s been fighting monsters and crap, and the kids (mainly Dustin) is freaking out because he knows and before Billy and Steve properly start fighting inside, Steve takes one or two hits and can’t breathe and collapses and Billy kinda just freaks along with the rest of the kids and we get to see a bit of protective little brother Dustin with Billy catching on and helping out. (Then he (Billy) gets dragged along by the kids with Steve to the tunnels, because like hell Steve’s up for running and fighting and Billy can’t just leave them.)

I tried to write it myself but my motivation hasn’t come back from it’s holiday.

Hey!! I'm always taking requests for writing, even if it might take me a little bit to get to said requests sometimes 😅😅 But I love this so much!! Thank you for coming to me with this!! (And felt that motivation thing 😭)

----------------------------

Steve's night had been... rough to say the least.

Interdimensional monsters, having to look after a very rambunctious group of middle schoolers, and on top of all that, a binder that felt like it was a few seconds from squeezing his soul from his frame, had never been on the agenda. And yet here he was.

But, as if that wasn't bad enough, of course life had to throw him another curveball. One with sharp teeth and piercing blue eyes that bore daggers into him. One that possessed a mean right hook and an even meaner left.

And Steve had keen reflexes, or at least he would if it were any other day, if he hadn't quite literally been to hell and back just hour before. So, it catches him by surprise when he shoves Billy back into the Byers' kitchen table with a sharp huff only to be met with a harsh blow to his cheekbone seconds later, followed by one of the most menacing, frankly crazy laughs he'd ever heard.

Steve couldn't think straight, cupping his cheek as he staggered back somehow even more out of breath than before. The screams coming from Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Max were all muffled by the harsh ringing in his ears, chest feeling tighter than ever as he in took a rugged breath from his nose, letting it out through quivering lips. He barely had enough time to look up and make eye contact with the blonde teen in front of him before he was knocked down for the count.

Billy's solid fist made contact with the soft fat covering his fragile ribs. It was as if he was seeing the world in slow motions, body betraying him, knees buckling, stance faltering, torso suddenly feeling too heavy for his legs as he fell backwards. Even in his weakened state he had enough sense to try to catch himself, elbow jutting back to catch his fall.

The room felt uncharacteristically quiet when he made contact with the floor, letting out a soft pained noise, elbows catching him just enough to he didn't hit his head, but gave quickly letting his back fall against the hardwood. He squeezed his eyes shut with a long groan, only opening them back up when he heard Dustin at his side.

"Steve!" he shrieked in his normal high pitched way, gently smacking Steve on the cheek as if to wake him up, like he had ever been knocked out in the first place, "Shit, c'mon, Steve!"

Steve blinked up at him once before scowling, swatting his hand away " 'M not dying, Dustin," he mumbled, eyes falling to just behind Dustin where now Max was holding the end of his nail bat against the chest of a very concerned looking Billy. He couldn't help the strange bloom of pride that spread inside of his chest, right along side the pain.

Dustin seemed to let out a little breath of relief, "Oh, thank God," he exclaimed, falling from his knees back onto his ass. While Lucas backed up Max, Mike came over to where he was lying on the floor, "What's wrong with him?" he asked Dustin worriedly, like Steve wasn't even there.

The other boy just swallowed, looking down at Steve, he knew. This was probably the worst it had ever been, but Dustin wasn't a stranger to the fatigue Steve faced when having worn his binder for too long. And seeing as he'd been wearing the same clothes for nearly a day and a half, Dustin thought it was pretty safe to say the binder had stayed on as well.

Shit.

"Shit, Steve," Dustin sighed, shaking his head, 'shit' and 'Steve' seeming to be the only two words he could come up with tonight. Steve felt the burn of shame deep in his gut, but was it really his fault? It's not like he even had time to think about something like that when he was quite literally fighting for his life. But maybe if he stayed like this for much longer he'd be fighting for his life for a different reason.

"Christ, Dustin," Mike scolded, "What the fuck's going on?" Dustin just looked from Steve to Mike, back to Steve with a semi sympathetic look. Almost as if he was asking Steve for permission to tell. Because the thing was, Dustin was the only one who knew about his situation. Well, besides Carol, and Tommy, and his parents, but you get the point.

Nobody else in Hawkins knew he was trans and Dustin didn't want to be the one to ruin his secrecy if he didn't want to tell. Steve just frowned, looking to the side, not knowing what to do. He hated that it had to come to this, that it had to come out this way, but he also knew he had to tell them something. He cursed himself, feeling the signature sting of tears brimming his eyes, half hoping that maybe one of those demodog things would come back and rip him to shreds.

Dustin was the first to notice, giving him a sad look of understanding, quick to comfort him, "Hey, hey, hey," he rambled, wedging a hand behind Steve's back to lift him up, almost scared in the way Steve winced at the push of his spine shifting his confined ribs, "Okay, it's okay," Dustin slid his hand so instead it was wrapped around his entire back, lifting Steve up as slowly and carefully as possible.

Steve hadn't even realized they were now all staring at him until he was properly sitting up, eyes falling to Max who's head was turned, Lucas' the same, and Billy who was looking over their shoulders.

He gave them a teary-eyed glare before quickly thanking Dustin for helping him sit up, thankful that he was given at least a minute to recover before having to stand, though he had high hopes that the task might be easier given his current position.

"What the hell is going on!" Mike snapped, now fully and openly freaking out. Steve looked at him with a furrowed brow, not used to seeing him so uncool under pressure. But Steve also couldn't help to think that it meant he cared.

" 'S hard to explain," Steve sniffled, rubbing his nose with the side of his wrist, grimacing at the snot before wiping it on his shirt. He couldn't help the slight upturn of his lips when he reached a hand out for either Lucas or Max to take and they both gave him a grossed out expression, leaving Dustin and mike to get up and each take an arm, clenching their teach as they pulled Steve's dead weight up off the ground.

He hadn't even been thinking about his cheek until he scrubbed a hand down his face, wincing as the feeling of the forming bruise.

Billy, right.

When Steve dared connect their eyes Billy didn't scrunch his nose or snarl like he expected, but instead looked at Max who had finally lowed the nail bat and then looked at the floor like a kicked puppy. Steve wanted to kick himself for thinking he looked kind of cute when he let down his guard, almost not scary at all, almost.

"Steve, hello? Earth to Steve," Steve was quickly shaken out of his thoughts by Dustin, gripping his shoulders. The brunette blinked down at him, head still feeling a little foggy from everything. The quizzical look Dustin gave him left him puzzled.

"You gotta take it off," he whispered, leaning in close enough so that Steve would be the only one to hear him. Steve's frowned deepened, sniffling again, but the waterworks didn't return, "I know it sucks, but it's gonna suck worse if you don't take care of it now."

Deep down Steve knew Dustin was right, that if he didn't take off his binder now, he would be in even deeper shit later. But what was he supposed to do without it? There was no way he was about to leave without it on. He was relatively flat, the one trait he was glad he got from his mother, besides his hair, but not that flat. People would look, people would stare, people would ask questions that he really didn't want to and really didn't have time to answer.

He just wasn't ready, "Steve," Dustins voice was firm but caring, laced with a hint of pity. Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Mike beat him to it.

"I feel really out of the loop here, guys." Steve rolled his eyes as did Dustin.

Finally Steve caved, for the sake of his sanity if of nothing else, "Fine, I'm going to the bathroom," he announced, heart softening at the toothy, grin Dustin gave him dropping his hands from his shoulders.

Just as Steve was about to leave the room and round the corner into the hallway he turned around, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but," he grumbled, pointing, but only with his forearm, not wanting to face the pain of lifting his bicep, "Hargrove," Billy's head snapped over to Steve, "You're in charge."

He didn't even give the kids time to argue before stalking off, disappearing into the Byers' narrow half bath. When he closed the door behind him he stayed there for a moment, pressing his back against the door, closing his eyes. He was pretty sure he could fall asleep right there, standing up like a horse, it it weren't for the throbbing pain in his cheek and the sore rub of his chest.

His Nikes squeaked across the tile, making him cringe slightly as he made his way to the sink, or rather the mirror, giving himself a good look. He really did look like shit. He had dark circles under his eyes, a cut on his cheek from what he could only assume to be Billy's ring, framed by a nasty purple bruise. Steve sighed, grabbing a towel from a hook beside the counter, wetting it, before pressing it gingerly upon the wound. He hissed at the contact, lips pursing as he dabbed the warm cloth to his, face, even paler than usual.

If he didn't know any better he would have guessed he was sick, scarlet red blush splotching paper white flesh. But this was only the first of his problems, next came the more serious matter.

Carefully, Steve slid his Member's Only jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, metal zipper clanking on the tile. his hands shook like a leaf as he reached for the hem of his shirt, taking a deep breath that sent a sharp pain down his spine. It really was time to take this thing off. Slowly he grabbed the bottom, sliding it up, the task proving to be more difficult as he went higher. In the end he was cringing, grinding his teeth with a short grunt until he finally got it off, discarding it onto the floor.

Now Steve was just left with his binder, looking at himself in the mirror with sad, almost scared eyes. He hated seeing himself without one. Because he had it in his head that if he never saw his chest then he could just convince himself that it wasn't there, that the breast he loathed so much didn't exist and all he had were the flat expanse of pecs.

He made the executive decision to turn around, thanking God that the binder had a zipper on the front. He grabbed the zipper, feeling a slight panic run coarse through his veins before he began pulling, with each new pull of the teeth it felt like his lungs grew a size bigger. Breathing getting easier and easier until he had fully unzipped the compressive material.

Steve looked ahead at the tile that lined the shower as he shrugged it off his shoulders, taking the deepest breath he could muster before releasing it again. It was freeing in the worst way. His ribs still ached and his chest was just all around sore, but at least he could breathe a bit better.

He dared to let his hands wander, rubbing smoothly over his ribs, pointer finger being able to feel the subtle jut of each one as he went along. He could feel the binder rash against his sides, bicep rubbing against the raw skin making him flinch.

Steve didn't want to turn around, but there was that voice in the back of his head, the one that always lingered there. Telling him he needed to face his true self, who he really was. And deep down he knew it wasn't true, that he was just as much a guy as any cis guy. But sometimes he let it get the better of him. So he did, he turned around, staring into his own eyes at first before he let them dip lower.

He bit his lip, not being able to take looking for more than a second before looking up that the ceiling, tears forming stubbornly in the corners of his eyes. His nipples were hard and chaffed, the rash directly under the swell of his breasts even worse than the rash on his sides.

He squeezed his eyes shut, image imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. Steve cried silent tears, wet streaks of disingenuous shame ran down his face until his crying wasn't so silent.

Billy was sitting in the living room when he heard it, sending Max who was explaining everything to him a quick ", Shh." And when that didn't work a firm, "Shut up, Shitbird," as he worked hard to drown out her complaining at the nickname and focus on the soft noise coming from the hallway.

When one particularly loud sob rang through the house everyone stopped talking, all eyes pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

Dustin was the first one to make the move to go, quickly being shut down by Billy, "Hold it," he said, reaching out a hand gesture to halt him, fearing the worst after hearing what Max just told him, "I'm going."

He was reaching for the bat at Max's side when suddenly- "No!" Everyone looked at him with wide eyes, "You- You can't," he babbled, shaking his head. Billy just furrowed his eyebrows at him.

"Like hell I can't," retorted, gripping handle with a firm hand, using it to propel himself up out of his seat. Dustin did the same, pushed himself up out of his seat, with a huff and a stubborn cross of him arms.

Billy gave him a look, or rather a glare, to which Dustin himself returned, tough kid. "Look, something's wrong in there and if it's something... something bad I don't need any of you shitheads," he gestured with the bad towards the group, "getting hurt, kapish?"

Dustin stared at him a second longer before falling back into his seat, deciding that if it was a demodog Billy stood the best chance. He would just have to pray, for Steve's sake, that he had things handled in his department, so Billy didn't learn anything he could use against him later.

Billy approached the bathroom door quickly but carefully, not wanting to waste any time if Steve was actually about to get mauled by some creature, "Harrington?" he called, knocking on the solid door three times, pressing his ear close.

Nothing.

"Harrington, open up!" he demanded, fear level only going up when all he heard was the persistent sound of Steve's cries, "Harrington I swear to God-"

Suddenly a new sound came from the bathroom, a scream, not high enough to be one of fear, but rather of frustration. But Billy didn't have enough time to think about that, just that Steve could be in trouble. In one swift movement he twisted the door handle and pushed through, quickly returning both hands to the bat where they belonged.

Steve didn't even notice Billy's presence until it was too late, until he was standing in the door way with a look Steve couldn't tell was shock or disgust. He quickly went from clutching the side of the sink to having his arms crossed over his chest, trying to hold onto what little dignity he had left.

He looked at Billy like a deer in headlights, like at any second Billy might flip, this time doing more damage than the first.

They stayed like that longer than they should have, Billy staring at Steve and vice versa, cold air from outside the bathroom sending a shiver down the brunette's shirtless form.

"Please..." Steve pleaded softly, what he was pleading for he wasn't sure. And Billy just blinked, tongue darting out out wet his lips which had gone dry. He took a cautious step froward, causing Steve to step back. The fact pained Billy, causing him to shake his head slowly and drop the bat, the object toppling to the floor with a crash, like some bizarre peace offering.

But it seemed to work for Steve who's posture visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping, exhaling from his lips, but that didn't mean he wasn't still guarded.

Billy's expression remained confused, eyes darting from Steve's chest to his face, and back to his chest, "Want to take a picture? It'll last longer," Steve scoffed, turning a little bit on hopes of blocking his view.

Billy cleared his throat, eyes wandering now to the floor, "I'm sorry I just- I didn't-" he stumbled, but thankfully Steve was there to finish his sentence.

"Didn't expect me to be such a freak?" he grit, almost as if they weren't Billy's thoughts but his own.

But the blonde quickly recovered, "No!" he exclaimed, "No, not at all," he assured, "At least not because of this." His lame attempt at a joke actually landed, pulling a wet laugh out of Steve's exhausted lungs.

"You really know how to make a guy feel good about himself, Hargrove," Steve retorted, corners of his lips upturning into a soft, yet sad smile, Billy's smile about the same.

"Yeah, well..." he started, eyes being pulled back down to Steve's exposed side, thanks to the new angle, getting an eyeful of the rash that resided there, "Shit, man, that looks nasty."

Steve just looked down almost bashfully, "The flatter never ends," he mumbled, but the words held no real malice.

Billy shook his head, "No, I mean- I didn't mean it like that. Just looks like it hurts," he explained, to which Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Like a bitch," he admitted, subconsciously chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek.

Billy nodded too, in consolidation and in thought. There was a beat of tension filled silence before Billy spoke again, "Y'know if there's any lotion lying around I could help you with that," he offered, hoping that he wasn't over stepping any kind of boundary.

"You, Billy Hargrove, that guy that tried to rock my shit, less than thirty minutes ago, want to help me?" Steve questioned with disbelief, eyes wide as they met Billy's.

Billy just shrugged, scratching the slowly growing stubble on his jaw, "Change of heart, I guess." Steve scoffed, but not out of disbelief, rather out of humor.

And maybe saying no was the sane thing to do, but when was Steve ever known to make the right choice.

"Yeah, alright."

#sorry if this isn't the best I kinda just went for it 😭 #BUT THANK YOU FOR THE ASK THIS ACTUALLY REALLY EHLPED ME GET OUT OF MY WRITING RUT #Steve Harrington #Trans Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Harringrove #Dustin Henderson #Max Mayfield #Lucas Sinclair #Mike Wheeler #Stranger Things

[swirlysmile]

hello! i have this idea for a one shot if you like it: hangman x pilot!reader playing in an air hockey table, both are very competitive😆

honestly don’t know any air hockey terms so it might be kinda repetitive, i tried, anon. loved the request though!

warnings: none?

word count: 1099

Rival

The small common room on base was frequented by many pilots, you included. It was a nice place to chill for a minute, the uncomfortable green couches, the odd off-white walls, some other games, and the air hockey table in the corner. It didn’t match the rest of the room, but it sure was entertaining. 

“Hey, good to see you guys! Hangman,”

“[callsign].” He says, giving you a small salute. 

“I thought I was going to have fun tonight.” You said, pouting. 

Phoenix pats you on the back and pulls you over to one of the couches, a game of Uno is already set up and you’re happy to participate. 

“Uno!” You shout, pointing out Rooster’s hand. He groans, but reluctantly goes to draw a card. You’re down to your last two, and Hangman is observing (glaring at) your cards from his spot across the couch. He placed a card down on the small coffee table. 

“Hang, you good over there?” Bob asks. 

“He’s probably just scared to lose. Uno.” You say, putting your second to last card down. 

You hear Jake cuss a little under his breath after he missed his window of opportunity. He still has five cards, Phoenix and Rooster have been targeting him with their plus four cards.

It’s important to note that he’s got an ego, and losing to you damages his ego. Enough that he’ll cry after a few strong drinks, and Rooster has taken advantage of this discovery enough times that Jake stopped visiting the Hard Deck with the squadron.

“And, I win.” You smile, placing down a green skip card. 

“Dammit! I can never beat her!”  Rooster says, still at two cards.

Hangman is uncharacteristically quiet from his seat on the other green couch as he gathers the uno cards. 

Everyone else is sitting at the couch, being careful not to directly call Cyclone an ass, but still hinting at it. After all, the common room is on base, and he does have access to it. 

“Air hockey, anyone?” Hangman says, standing up. Everyone else would have gladly challenged him, but you stood up first. 

“Let’s do this, Bagman.” 

“Hangman.” He corrects through gritted teeth. He’s thinking he should have been more specific with his invitation, but it’s too late to back out now.

“Loser gets first shot.” 

“If you wanted to go first you could have just said so.” 

He reluctantly picks up the puck and sends it flying towards you. You send it back at him, narrowly missing the point. It bounces off the wall without Hangman even having to lift a finger, shooting back at you with the ferocity you tried to direct towards Hangman. It shoots into the hole, giving Hangman a point. 

“Hell yes!” 

“Loser went first, remember? I’m just warming up.” You say, and it bothers him more than it should. 

Phoenix is the first to place a bet, and after that, they just spiral. The bets are getting intense, Bob offered to pay for everyone’s drink if Hangman won. 

Hangman thought it’d be nice, but his pride would never permit him purposefully losing to you of all people for some free beers. 

With a flick of your wrist, or movement of your hand moreso, it’s over. 

You shot the puck back at him, and silently prayed that he’d be too slow to intercept it while it was gliding so smoothly towards the goal. 

“Loser went first.” Hangman groans, walking over to shake your hand. 

“Loser went first.” You agree, and he glares. 

He’s sulking in a corner while Bob is cheering because, damn, these pilots love to drink for free. His tab would be twice the size of everyone’s normal tabs combined if he had to go through with it. 

“How many times have you beat Hangman playing air hockey?” Coyote asks, reminding you of the painful truth.

“First time, out of four.” 

“Keeping track, are we [callsign]?” Hangman smiles, that stupidly, painfully attractive smile. He’s back to being himself, two seconds of embarrassment long gone. 

“Always keep track of how many times I beat, or lose, to my favorite rival.” 

“I’m your favorite?” He says, fake sentiment showing. You offer him a kind smile and the finger in return.  

When everyone returns to the weird, out of place green couches, it’s late. You’re all tired, and have training tomorrow, but the victory you procured is keeping the adrenaline pumping. 

Phoenix is talking to Bob and Rooster, occasionally trying to include everyone else in their conversation. 

Coyote and Hangman are talking on the other green couch about god knows what.

You’re talking to Fanboy and Payback about nothing in particular. Maybe your favorite brand of beer, or favorite pilot in the room. Random conversation, that isn’t going to make you reveal anything that should stay secret.

“C’mon, just admit it!” Payback pushes and you sigh.

“He’s cute.” 

“I knew it!” Fanboy says, holding his hand out towards Payback. You stare in horror and amusement. 

“Anyways,” 

“Rematch.” Jake pipes up from the other side of the couch. His eyes are on you, and who are you to decline a challenge?

“After this one, I’m out.” Phoenix says, Bob nodding in agreement. She’s obviously going to stay for the show. Competition between you and Hangman can turn nasty. 

“I hate myself for being entertained with this. It’s like Keeping Up With the Kardashians.” She sighs.

Hangman picks the puck up and slides it towards you, offering you the first shot. You accept, hitting it towards him so that it glides across the table. You hit it softly to give him a false sense of security. When he shoots it back towards you, it’s heading straight for the center. Right where your hand is. You deflect the puck, hitting it just as hard as he did back over.  

When it goes in, you celebrate for a second, lining up another shot. He’s a little distracted by Fanboy, who is whispering something in his ear. 

Your worst nightmare comes true when he looks back, a little flushed. He quickly stops the puck from sliding in, playing the game without so much as a word to you. 

Even when you win, he doesn’t bitterly congratulate you. Jake just stares at Rooster while he’s sleepily high-fiving you.

Everyone files out of the common room, and before you do, you turn to Hangman. 

“You okay, Hang?”

“Do you actually think I’m cute?” 

“Cutest rival I’ve ever had,” you tease, but your face is burning. You’re so going to kill Fanboy for this, but for now, you’re going to savor the kiss.

#hangman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake ‘hangman’ seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #phoenix #fanboy #payback #rooster #bob #callsign:bob

[florietiae]

it's not her first friends with benefits situation. she'd had one other before now. it never went farther than that. nothing beyond friendship. so rachel knew very well how this was supposed to go. and perhaps it had started out that way at first. just two people having a little bit of fun. but now, especially lately, she and william seemed to be hanging out a lot more than expected. driving a little too slow on the way home. finding reasons not to leave. a million almosts. but they were friends. totally just friends.

which is definitely why she's pressed into the warmth of him, and looking back into his eyes as if he'd hung the very stars in the sky. no other reason at all, nope. smiles at the the press of mouth to her brow, lingering. her cheeks rose-flushed. ❛ i believe you did. just now. several times. ❜ there's a chuckle, some humor mixed with the suddenly very real butterflies in her stomach. it was possible that william could've just been talking about the sex, and she tried to keep that in mind. but in truth, that wasn't the vibe rachel was getting. the words that followed, unexpected as they were, only confirmed this.

i love you.

surprise is something bright and blooming. sunflower-sweet in her chest. for a moment, it's almost deathly quiet. and she can feel his panic. the need to shrink into himself. and then, softly, he says, you can pretend you didn't hear that. and the thing was that he was right. she could, but she would not. ❛ hey, ❜ rachel starts, instinctively reaching for his hand, ❛ what if i don't want to ? ❜ simple, honest. even a little vulnerable. ❛ look, i know this -- we weren't exactly planned. but i want you to know. the feeling is mutual. like, so, so mutual. ❜ a gentle squeeze, and a further, ❛ i love you too. ❜

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 asks. via this. they were absolutely just friends. friends who more-than-regularly had sex and spent a hell of a lot of time together outside of that, but friends nonetheless. and yet, he was breaking all of his rules. william afton did not cuddle after sex, kept the emotions out of it. yet, there he was, holding rachel close, fingertips dragging up and down her spine as he bathed in the post-orgasmic bliss and her. almost dozing as he brushing his lips against her forehead, he hummed contently. ❛ has anyone ever told you how perfect you are ? ❜ said both sincerely and with a touch of humor, although the humor quickly slipped away as he continued, ❛ you're amazing, pretty bird. ❜ It was the sort of comment that might have been just referring to the sex, but he intended otherwise. and his next words, mumbled into her hair drowsily, gave that away: ❛ i love you. ❜ a beat of silence, and then he flinched, eyes popping open. an uncharacteristic ❛ uh,❜ escaped him. then, he offered up quietly, ❛ you can pretend you didn't hear that. ❜ HELP he's so kfdhsfajfd. / sent for will and rachel. from @spring-lxcked !

#spring-lxcked #𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 — raven roth. #𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 — it's miserable and magical. #𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨 ⎯ dynamic. ↻ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 ⎯ will + rachel. with spring-lxcked. #dc media cw #fnaf media cw #me thinking i'm gonna wait on this one. #bc i have other things for them in queue ( i'm so sorry in advance lmao ) #rae immediately: no we're posting this now -- #anyway bye i'm sobbing thanks. #no one talk to me i love them sm. #long post cw