#this only had a little clean up needed but was otherwise finished

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 14

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn

cw ; mentions of scars (edit: im a fucking idiot i forgot they talk abt scars at the start of the chapter) and like… brief dottore mention, so u know it’s icky. also u guys will be mad at me.

notes ; AHHH!!!!! I LIVE!!!!! oh gosh so many hectic life events lately….. i hadnt been able to get my hands on this dang chapter for so long

anyhow, i was planning to publish this one early like a day or two ago with a reference to an arlecchino voiceline that was THEN a leak and not out yet, so i’m glad i waited and developed this one just a little more LOL

also good luck with everyone’s arle pulls!!! (better luck than mine i hope ;w;) just like childe and the reader at some point, WANTERS WILL BE HAVERS ‼️

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“agh— be more gentle!”

“i’ll be more gentle if you stop flinching away. you’re a war machine who can turn into an abyssal beast, withstand how draining it is to use it, hold your ground against a champion duelist but you can’t handle a little cotton ball soaked in alcohol?”

“well there’s no adrenaline anymore to remedy this sting, now, is there?”

it’s almost comically reminiscent of your meeting with childe back in zapolyarny palace, where he got himself hurt just to come tell you that he was to leave for liyue— feels like it was ages ago. childe leans against the elegant marble counter of your hotel room’s bathroom, pile of bloodied cottons and tissues piling by his hands, while you clean the fresh wounds he’s just acquired from clorinde.

from how much he flinches and hisses, the wounds almost seem grave… but they’re no more than a few scratches, slashes and bruises. after his witty remark, you can only attribute his absurd resilience during battle to the mentioned adrenaline— otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as he has with those reactions of his.

“so did you get what you wanted from that spar? how was it in comparison to your other tries?”

childe pauses thoughtfully and proceeds to pout.

“…i think she was still holding back. i need another spar.”

“gh-! are you kidding?! childe tartaglia ajax, i am not letting you resplit the forehead i just fixed up anytime soon.”

he sighs melancholy like a grounded child, but nods in agreement anyhow. childe’s eyes remain downward, he mindlessly fiddles with the hem of your shirt as he awaits patiently for you to finish tending to his wounds. once you finish, you scan him up and down to certify that you’ve taken care of everything, until your gaze is caught by his scars.

his war medals.

he’s got an insurmountable amount of them scattered all over his body and not one is like the other— some are large lashes most likely caused by weapons like axes or claymores; some are finer lines caused by swords or daggers; a few of them even look like different types of burns, likely the work of varied elemental catalysts; and some look like small stars or circles, probably the result of arrows or the tips of polearms.

the inches of his skin that his scars don’t cover are littered with the tiniest specs of freckles… ones you’ve barely had the privilege to see over the years as a result of living in eternally cold lands. it’s only been since you’ve both been to warmer regions like liyue, inazuma and now fontaine that you’ve began to notice them.

and you’ve found that the intricate, graceful tapestry that childe’s scars and freckles weave is… gorgeous.

it’s so uniquely mesmerizing that you nearly struggle to find a worthy comparison within words or the world around you. the closest one would be to a starry sky— you imagine that his freckles become the stars that remain stationary and furthest away in the night sky, small and bountiful, while his scars are the shooting stars that flash by in a vivid explosion of light.

it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.

you’ve realized that you’re less afraid to admit this to yourself now. perhaps spending so much constant time with childe after such a while of misencounters and diverging schedules, has made you become more comfortable around him— to the point where you barely minded him childishly playing with the hem of your shirt. it feels fine, domestic even… almost in the same way that a coup—

“hey, why’re you staring so hard? am i not gonna make it, doc?”

you flinch as you’re snapped away from your train of thought, taking in how childe’s eyes flicker worriedly over your face. unfortunately, your mind isn’t freed from the grasp of your thoughts of… admiration and your gaze quickly flies over his scars once again. the delicacy of the moment, unexpectedly, fuels you with enough confidence to raise forward a hand that lightly grazes a particularly eye-catching gash on childe’s neck— the stretched healed skin ever so slightly bumping against your digits.

“nothing… j’st looking at your scars.” you answer absentmindedly.

beneath your hand, you feel his adam’s apple raise in a hearty gulp. next, childe inhales deeply and exhales a shuddered breath, as if an attempt to ground himself.

“what about ‘em?” he whispers expectantly.

“i like them.”

it’s as if you’ve gotten the liquid courage of a drink while being entirely sober, you’re surprised that you’ve done so much as let yourself say that out loud. though perhaps… that bewilderment might just be your downfall— within the thought, you notice just how close you and childe stand before each other. he leans against the bathroom counter in only the deep red undershirt of his uniform, eyes laser-guided onto your every move while you’re only a hair’s length away from him. his absurd height doesn’t help the moment either, as he’s forced to hunch over and his figure arches forward into you— it’s suffocating.

you can’t allow yourself to crumble and panic right now, it would absolutely destroy you for the rest of your life, so you opt to breathe deeply. childe watches intently as you do and returns it with his own deep sigh, one that you feel hit your face warmly the moment it leaves his lips and so it further capitalizes on just how obscenely close the two of you are— to the point where you breathe each other’s air.

childe’s piercing azure eyes move from matching your own to slightly further down on your face…

to your lips.

“yeah?” he mumbles in the most delicate tone possible, it’s not like you’re too far to hear anyway.

it’s an inexplicable magnetic pull that brings you the smidgenmost closer to him, it has to be so. it must be that same pull that brings you to look at his mouth— plump and pink, likely still store from the split at the corner of his bottom lip. and there’s no other possibility other than that damned magnet as to why your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, childe’s shyly snaking around your waist in response.

you don’t feel like you’re in a bathroom in a hotel room in fontaine anymore, you don’t feel like the seconds pass anymore. it’s a pocket between space and time that has enveloped the two of you, away from everything else.

and there’s nothing in this world left to do other than to lean just a breath closer to each other… just a little more and—

knock knock knock knock!

you flinch away faster than lightning, heart thudding ironically like thunder. childe also seems to have been entirely spooked by the knocks on the bedroom door and he pretends to bring his hand up to scratch something on his face, but you know very well he means to hide his glaringly flushed face— you know that because you do the very same, only you briskly step away to open the door instead.

outside the room, two fontainian officers greet you, though they seemingly go wide eyed for just a brief second as if you’re not who they expect to answer.

“forgive me, friend, this is… mr. tartaglia’s room, is it not?” one inquires.

you frown in suspicion, and you plan to not directly confirm the question as to pry exactly what business two policemen would have with childe. unfortunately, the devil decides to announce it himself by coming up behind you, arms crossed defensively.

“and what might be the problem, officer?” childe asks pointedly.

both officers simultaneously eye the two of you, the blushing idiots opening the door together, and proceed to share a knowing look. the first officer sighs while the second clears his throat awkwardly.

“we apologize for… intruding so abruptly but— mr. tartaglia, you are currently being suspected of being the culprit behind the serial disappearances of young women case. for the time being, you are under arrest and must face trial at the opera epiclese to make your case.”

…what.

“what?”

coincidentally, both you and childe exclaim at the same time— though, childe’s tone is rather condescendingly skeptical while yours is laced with pure, unadulterated shock.

the harbinger scoffs. “well, i can very confidently tell you right now that i didn’t do it.”

yeah, great way to clear any and all suspicion, man.

frustratedly pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to help you process the last five seconds, you sigh.

“i-i think what he means to say, officer, is that it’s not plausible for him to even be a suspect in this case. i mean— if i remember correctly, doesn’t that case extend for over twenty years? we’ve only been in fontaine for a few weeks! you can check our travel tickets, they’re dated. plus, we haven’t done anything even remotely disruptive while we’ve been here, both of us have multiple reliable alibi’s regarding our whereabouts over the past few days, and—“

the officer puts up a dismissive hand, effectively interrupting you. “please, leave this for the iudex to hear.”

a metallic jingling catches your attention and you see that the second policeman wordlessly produces handcuffs from his tool belt, the panic bubbles in your throat even further. childe’s shoulders visibly tense and it’s clear that he’s intent on fighting back— with once again lighting fast reflexes, you put a hand on his shoulder and throw him a warning look as a means to discreetly impede him. childe sighs frustratedly but ceases anyhow, allowing himself to be guided out of the room. out of pure illogical desperation, you chase after.

“don’t say anything hostile or stupid until we find you a lawyer! i promise you i’ll be right behind!” you call out as the three are at the other end of the hallway and catch a final look from childe, the emotion behind it is indescribable.

your chest feels overwhelmingly tight.

—

who knew such a resplendent room could be so suffocating.

it feels as though you’ve been waiting for an eternity and the intended comfort of the opera eplicese’s waiting room only serves to unnerve you more. the most important person in your life has just been abruptly accused of being a serial kidnapper and you’re supposed to indulge in sickeningly sweet pastries and tasteless tea? it’s almost derogatory.

your leg has become sore from how much it bounces restlessly, your nail plates scratchy from how much you fidget with them, all the paper napkins on the table sloppily folded into failed paper stars. none of it helps.

you can’t even decide what to worry about, all of it swirls and spirals in your head like a rumbling tornado. is he okay? are the officers treating him well? who will defend him? will he go to prison? for how long? when in the tsaritsa’s name will arlecchino retur—

the door slams open and you jump, partially with the abruptness of it and out of sheer panic to get some news on the situation. your heart starts palpitating again and it takes everything within your willpower to seem more put together in front of the knave.

“s-so?” you ask with an uncontrollable shake in voice.

“it’s invariable, childe must face trial and defend himself. we can only count on the factuality that he is innocent and the oratrice will say accordingly.”

you sigh, at least… whatever in the archons’ name constitutes that machine is infallible.

“the trial starts in five minutes.” arlecchino adds curtly.

you nod and allow yourself to take a deep, grounding breathe before standing up to leave the waiting room. as your hand reaches out to the doorknob, there is a firm grip on your shoulder. you turn ever so slightly to find a pointy-nailed, stark black hand holding you back— another moment to analyze the hand reveals to you that… that’s her skin. black.

a chill runs down your spine.

“allow me, for a moment, to ask a selfish question in exchange for a selfish answer, sargeant.” she stands, voice dark and menacing. “as an asset of the doctor’s… do you share his ideals?”

the question takes you off-guard but it also… doesn’t. you’re not an idiot— you’ve heard of dottore’s letters to the house of the hearth suggesting the, err.. ‘rejects’ be sent to his custody so he can further his experiments. you remember how utterly appalled you were when you first came across the information. if the knave truly cares about the children in her orphanage, it’s no wonder how tightly she grips your shoulder, sharp nails just a breath away from breaking skin.

and so she asks you selfishly, a question not of loyalty but of morality.

dottore’s face flashes before your eyes and your hand subconsciously tightens into a fist, expression hardening.

“if his life were in my hands, i’d crush it in a heartbeat.” you whisper bitterly.

the grip releases you and it’s as if air is easier to breathe after that. arlecchino wordlessly steps ahead to open the door for you and gestures for you to leave first, expression neutral as if nothing had happened.

the courtroom looks like no courtroom at all, rather you feel as though you’re about to watch an opera in a grand theater— the rumors about fontaine seem to be true after all. in the rows of cushy seats, people whisper and gossip endlessly until you find yourself a seat and the booming sound of a gavel being struck echoes through the court, all sound ceases.

“court is now in session for the case of serial disappearances of young women, today we will hear both the prosecution and defense’s arguments regarding mr. tartaglia of the fatui’s alleged involvement.”

a baritone voice echoes through the silent courtroom, the direction it rings out from reveals a white-haired man in proper blue robes, sitting in a balcony that floats above the courtroom’s stage. you recognize him as the iudex, the chief justice, monsieur neuvillette. his tone is elegant and intellectual, with complete considerate professionalism—- its cadence almost reminds you of zhongli in a sense. but that’s not all that reminds you of zhongli… you can’t quite put your finger on it though.

what follows is merely formal introductions from the prosecution and the defense and you take the opportunity to become distracted and ponder over just how catastrophic your morning had turned out. it all happened so quickly too— one second you were… ah… canoodling with childe and the next he was being escorted out the room by law enforcement. had you been cursed by the gods? would they be so cruel as to make every peaceful moment in your life just merely bedding for the next major inconvenience? would they be so frustratingly taunting as to let you get that close to the one you have feelings for only to rip you two away from each other right afterwards?

“it would appear i must repeat my question, mr. tartaglia.” neuvillette says firmly, catch your attention and breaking you from your daze.

“do you accept the charge that you are the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case?”

“to be perfectly honest, i don’t understand your country’s complicated court systems, or the reason why i’m being charged with something i’ve never even heard of.” the harbinger answers bluntly.

“however, i did hear that people who have been charged can choose to participate in a duel to clear their name— is that right? in that case, as long as i accept the charge, i can have an all out fight with that champion duelist clorinde, right?”

…

how can the supposed love of your life be this stupid?

“when i privately sparred with her last time, she was obviously holding back… real disappointing.”

“hey, don’t you understand? you’re currently the prime suspect for a major case! this isn’t the place for you to be looking for fights.” a female voice calls out from the balcony directly above where you seat— while you can’t see who it is, you can only assume from the bossiness of her tone that it’s lady furina herself, the hydro archon.

“oh? sounds like the hydro archon wants to lecture me on the ways of the opera house…” childe taunts. “then why don’t you duel me too? i’m the kind of students that learns best in the heat of battle.”

you’ll kill him, oh you’ll kill this idiot one day… does he want to rot in prison for the rest of his days? this time you truly cannot hold yourself back from subconsciously standing up in panic, limbs urging to get up there and try to amend the situation yourself by arguing like a normal, sane person— but the judging stares of the other spectators hinder you glued to your seat out of sheer embarrassment.

“alas, it would appear that communication with the defendant is going poorly, and we have made very little progress.” neuvillette intervenes. “in that case, let me explain everything from the very beginning again. the goal of this trial is to determine the culprit behind the serial disappearances case—“

“that case had nothing to do with him! you’ve got the wrong man!”

huh? …who said that? did that not come out of your own mouth? seems like something you’d blur out… instead it comes from a flamboyantly dressed blonde woman who bursts into the courtroom at that very second. to you, she nearly seemed angelic in the moment.

“miss navia, this is the second time you’ve interrupted the court proceedings. i only tolerated your behavior last time because you were able to provide the court with a key eyewitness. but that was exception rather than standard court protocol— i can very well charge you with contempt of court for your interjections.”

“oh please, did you ever think i had any respect for this place’s pointless theatrics?” navia scoffs.

“we can put aside that discussion for now, i’m not here to argue with you. i’m here to charge the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case. and if my charges prove true, the tartaglia here will be proven innocent by default, correct?”

neuvillette proceeds to dismiss childe from the stand to make way for navia and allows him to seat in the audience and you feel like you should owe this lady your life. childe’s eyes scan through the seats and when he spots you, he visibly lights up and beelines to the seat next to yours.

“challenging the hydro archon? really?” you whisper playfully.

childe contains himself not to laugh loudly. “can’t say it wasn’t worth the shot.”

it’s as if a wordless conversation settles between the two of you, silent glances and deep sighs that express the mutual hopefulness for a good outcome of this trial. after a solid few seconds of staring at each other like fools, childe’s gaze drops down, you follow it to see his gloved palm sat in the armrest between the two of you— it faces outward in an invitation. your hand joins his without thought and the second your skin registers the warmth that radiates from his hold, it’s like an electric shock runs through your veins. one so buzzing that makes you two simultaneously face away from each other to hide your burning cheeks.

you’d like to pretend that you’re paying attention to the trial, but the ever so gentle squeezes childe hand gives yours periodically seem to take up all of your focus and cause it to short circuit. suddenly, there’s another burst of the courtroom’s doors and there stand the traveler and paimon, because of course they’re somehow also involved in this.

“naviaaa, we’re back!” paimon calls out.

“as expected of my partner! i just knew you’d come back in the nick of time!”

“just how often do you intend to flout the rules of this court…” neuvillette mutters disappointedly.

the traveler’s appearance contributes new evidence towards navia’s favor, who expertly disperses all of the oppositions statements. the culprit is revealed to be a man by the name of vacher, who was intent on bringing back his dear vigneire to the point where he began dissolving innocent young women with primordial seawater. as overtly ridiculous as fontaine’s spectacle culture seemed to be, you couldn’t say that watching this trial play out wasn’t extremely entertaining.

but speaking of innocent…

“at this point, the verdict of this trial is clear. with mr. marcel’s conviction, the charges against mr. tartaglia no longer hold any basis.”

you giddily look over at childe, who seems as aloof as someone who didn’t worry for a second. your fingertips tingle with excitement and you can feel the stress evaporate off your shoulders in real time. neuvillette summarizes the entire case once more and submits the verdict to the oratrice— the machine hums loudly and flashes a blinding blue, producing an envelope finally confirming his guilty status. much to unspoken disappointment, childe lets go of your hand to stand with his chest proudly puffed up.

“well now, hasn’t this been the most delicious piece of drama? the villain has been caught, justice has been served, pas wrongs have been righted and it’s a bit ol happy ending… since it’s been such a great show, i’ll just let the false accusations against me slide. either way, i’ve still got some business to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me—“

the harbinger looks back to offer you his hand once more and you happily take it before childe begins to lead you two out of the room. unfortunately, the guards at the doors of the courtroom remain unmoving as they block the doors and you frown in confusion.

“please wait just one moment, mr. tartaglia.” says the iudex.

“oh, what now? none of this has anything to do with me.” childe groans.

“according to court protocol, since this trial was initiated due to a charge against you, a verdict must also be made regarding the initial charge before the trial can conclude.”

you sigh out of selfish frustration, but opt to respect the proceedings anyhow— it’s not like the verdict will change now. childe, on the other hand, voices his annoyance like a petulant kid.

“please respect the laws of fontaine. this has always been the rule.”

“it’s fine, we’ll just have to wait here a few little seconds more.” you whisper to childe coaxingly.

he sighs. “alright alright, but this has been a lot of hassle. all i need is to stand over there, right? let’s just get this over with…”

“through evidence presented in the public trial that was just held, it has been established that mr. tartaglia has no direct connection to the serial disappearances case. the guilty party has been established and thus, it is logical to suppose mr. tartaglia is innocent of the charges.”

the machine whirrs once more, stirring some curiosity within you as to what exactly makes it tick or give accurate verdicts at all. as the envelope reaches the chief justice’s hands, he seems to stutter for a moment as he reads it. neuvillette’s ever so stoic face falls slightly into a vexed frown and he hums in confusion.

“according to the judgment of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, mr. tartaglia is— guilty.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#genshin impact fic #childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe fic #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #tartaglia x reader

[saudadeko]

ADHD tips from a girlie who was diagnosed in her late twenties and has had little to no support since and is being so brave about it:

1) Make it easy, make it accessible, and make it appealing. If anything this is the most important thing, all tips going forward are based around this concept.

2) That thing you think would help you but you haven’t bought/done it yet because you’re technically surviving without it? Buy it, you need it. It doesn’t matter if people around you might think it’s wasteful or that you’re lazy, you’re not, just do it, trust me.

3) Expanding on tip #2, if you’re like me and eggs are your main source of protein because they’re quick and easy and feeding yourself is a near insurmountable task- buy yourself an electric egg cooker, make a bunch of hard boiled eggs and keep them in your fridge for quick and easy protein to add to any meal (handful of crackers, a hard boiled egg and a banana? 5 star meal right there. Or mash them up with some mayo for egg salad sandwiches). Other easy proteins include: potstickers (put them in instant ramen), edamame (they have microwaveable snack packs), chickpeas (put in salads!), beans (can of beans microwaved with shredded cheese and some tortilla chips), peanut butter (with crackers, apple and cheese, adult lunchable style), and tofu (cut into cubes, throw them into a ziplock with some seasoning and potato starch, shake that shit up and bake it until crispy).

4) Spend a little extra (if you are able) on daily use items that excite you, it will make you more likely to remember/want to do said daily task. For example: the only reason I remember to use sunscreen is because I bought some fancy japanese sunscreen that smells like roses so I get excited to use it, same for laundry detergent and body wash! there’s a gajillion different body wash scents out there, switch it up!

5) If there’s a task you continuously struggle with take a moment to think about which part of the task is making it difficult, it could be something even as small as “I don’t put my dirty clothes in the hamper because my hamper has a lid on it and lifting the lid is one step too many-���, sounds a little stupid huh? But trust your gut, it’s not stupid if it works. See tip #2 and BUY A HAMPER WITHOUT A LID.

6) If you are having trouble starting a task, break the task down further, sometimes the way I start a task is just by going “Ok step 1) stand up-“ and so forth. Don’t worry about the task as a whole just take it one step at a time.

7) If you’re halfway through a task and have to stop, leave it out. All this, “Put things away when you’re done with them.” is bullshit. you will be much more likely to finish the task if restarting it is easier because you left it out plus it’s a visual reminder. You can also create faux deadlines like “I gotta finish this project before my friend comes over on tuesday because after I finish it I can clean off the dinner table.” etc.

8) It’s okay to outsource tasks and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, humans are designed to ask for, and to require help (what do babies do when they’re first born?? cry for help!!) ask for help and receive help without shame, if it makes your life better, you are WINNING.

9) If you have one big overwhelming task that you think you need to get done before anything else, but you feel motivated to do other tasks, do those other tasks first, it’s okay. Otherwise in all likelihood (at least in my case) you’ll put everything off until the last minute and then have to do said overwhelming task and those other tasks won’t get done at all. Doing those smaller tasks also lowers the mental load and you can use them as a motivation launch pad to tackle bigger things.

10) If you notice you tend to not put something away/forget to do something, perhaps consider moving and storing the item closer to where it ultimately ends up or where you are more likely to see it. For example, my makeup, pills, and mail are all stored on my desk because that’s where I tend to do my makeup, take my pills and deal with my mail. I used to store my pills in my bathroom medicine cabinet but all too often I would forget because they weren’t in my line of sight. Now that they’re on my desk, I have multiple chances per day to pass by them, go “oh I gotta take those.” and take them.

11) Open storage, open storage, OPEN STORAGE.

12) Motivation can look like all kinds of things. sometimes the only reason I get out of bed is because I remember I have a fun snack and I get to go eat it if I get up. It’s okay to lean into those simple “animal-brain” type motivators, you’ll eat because then you can use that fun new kitchen gadget you got a daiso? Neat. you’ll shower because then you can paint your nails that fun new color you got? Fantastic. You’ll go to the dmv and do that annoying thing because you’ll take yourself out for boba after? Superb. Lean-IN to those small motivators, they aren’t stupid or childish, they are VITAL.

13) Don’t buy into the cult of “if it’s worth doing, do it properly” it’s guaranteed to set you up for failure. If it’s worth doing, do it in whatever capacity you are able to. I put sunscreen on once a day because that’s fucking better than not doing it at all and I sure as all hell will fail at reapplying it multiple times a day. If it’s worth doing, do it half-assed babieeee.

Go forth and prosper!!! xoxo ✌️🩵

#adhd #actually adhd #living with adhd #adhd tips #felt like writing these out for reference as needed

[angelltheninth]

7mins in heaven with hsr men!!!

Minutes? I'd rather do hours but alas, not enough time in a day for all of them.

Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, grinding, confessions, quickie, coming in pants, fingering, handjob, keeping quiet, clit stimulation, being shy, teasing

A/N: How many of these have I done now? I don't know but they're still fun.

Blade wastes no time in getting to the good parts. As soon as the clock starts he's upon you, knowing that you have very little time any by gods he will make you come on his cock in that time. His hand is over your mouth but he's sure that the others can hear rhythmic thumping and smacking sounds coming from the closet. Given that you wore no panties under that skirt you must have expected to fuck him at some point tonight, well you get it sooner then expected.

Dan Heng doesn't really know what to do in a game like this one. He gets that you should be doing things, it never occurred to him though that you would make the first move and kiss him, to ask, no beg for his touch in the small closet. That desperate for his touch he can't bare to refuse you, a good thing too because you're making a mess all over his hand. You would have made a puddle by now if you weren't wearing panties. Now they're nothing but an obstacle for his skilled, long fingers. Quiet now, don't let others hear, not this time.

Gepard is a blushing mess when he follows you into the closet. This is it, his chance to confess, but he didn't get to do it before you kissed him. He wanted to kiss back, yet he hesitated, first needing to let you know that whatever happens here, it's real for him, and hopefully not the last time it happens either. Because he took so long with his confession you didn't get to do much more then grind against each other but you could tell by the stain on the front of his pants that he still had a very good time with you. If he wants you can find a room to clean him up in.

Jing Yuan hoists you up onto the small shelf starts tracing his fingers up your thigh. Hard to believe that this is what it took for you two to give into your desires for one another but you're opening your legs for him so willingly, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and begging with every kiss for him to fuck you, quick, hard, to make you come right now or else you'll go crazy for him. He would love to see that, but there will be time for that later, not now, now he will make you realize just how fast he can be, how fast he can make your pussy realize whose cock is the best there is.

Luocha kisses you once before you bury your head into his shoulder. If you don't want this he can walk out of here but he's seen how you look at him, there's no point in being shy anymore, he already knows how you feel, you only need to say it. Or he can pry the confession of your lips with his. No not with a kiss, not on the mouth anyway. When you feel his tongue on your clit you need to steady yourself on him to make sure you're not dreaming again. Shit, you said that out loud, but luckily only he heard it. Is he better then your dreams? He would hope so, he would hope that his mouth sucking on your clit feels much better then your imagination.

Sampo is already half hard when you walk into the closet. He's been watching you all night, hoping for an opportunity to feel your hand around his cock. He can't go into the bathroom to jack off again, it's never as good as your hand. You'll have to get behind him through, otherwise his cum will stain your clothes. His hips are jerking into your hand with vigor, his head turned to kiss you, to bite your lips to tell you how damn good you are at his. He's close now, the time's almost up too, you need to finish him off with your mouth, there can't be any evidence of what you did. Luckily for him you sallow his cum every time.

Welt hoped that it would be him who you would end up with, it seemed like a good excuse to get a little handsy with you. Not that he needed much but he wasn't gonna do anything at a party, he has more class then that. At least with this you're expecting him to lift you up and slide his cock in, to hold you close and move along with you, getting you both very close to coming but sadly he was taking too much time. Part if his plan though, now he has a good reason to take you home and finish what you started.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #luocha x reader #sampo x reader #welt x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail x female reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x female reader #hsr x you #hsr blade #hsr dan heng #hsr gepard #hsr jing yuan #hsr luocha #hsr sampo #hsr welt #x female reader

[sluttywoozi]

Interlude No. 7 | wjh x f!reader

Interlude No. 7: You snap at Jun and he teaches you a lesson in the art of patience.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.6k | Pairing: wjh x f!reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: fingering, edging, orgasm delay/denial, piv sex, creampie

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, referred to with she/her pronouns 

You regret snapping at Jun the very moment the words leave your stress-bitten lips. 

“Can I not have just five minutes of goddamn peace in this house?” 

You shudder thinking about the frustration and impatience in your voice, the ringing of your words in the otherwise silent bathroom, the way Jun immediately shrunk into himself and left without a word. 

You were in the middle of your skincare routine when he came in, coming up behind you to settle his hands on your hips before asking where the extra formula was. You told him, for what had to be the fourth time, that you keep it on top of the fridge, that it’s exactly where it’s been since you bought it. 

He hummed and nodded, squeezing your hips in apology before saying, “Right, I remember now. How much should I use, though? I don’t know how hungry he is, you normally feed him.” 

You took a deep, centering breath and responded, “Half a scoop in the bottle, fill the rest with water.”

“Okay, perfect. And where are the-”

That third question, that’s when you snapped. 

You shouldn't have, and you know this, but if you’re being honest, all you wanted was to get through your skincare routine uninterrupted. You don’t think that’s a big thing to ask, especially when you haven’t been able to carry out the sequence in a timely manner since you brought the baby home. 

There’s always something to be done, a mess to be cleaned, a question to be answered. It’s been weeks since you had even a modicum of personal time, both by yourself and with your fiance, and you knew you were stretched thin, but you didn’t realize you were about to break. 

However, you have to admit that Jun isn’t to blame for his lack of knowledge, not when he’s working and you’re doing the brunt of the caring. You hate that you got irritated with him for asking questions you wouldn’t have known the answer to if you were him, and you hate even more that you couldn’t keep it inside and instead let your frustrations out on him. 

After that, you barely even felt like finishing out your routine, though you went through the motions anyway, not wanting it all to have been for nothing. You also, perhaps, wanted to hide from him and your shame for a little bit longer. 

Now here you sit on the bed, psyching yourself up to approach him and apologize. 

He’s your fiance, it should be easy to say sorry to him, you tell yourself. 

Truthfully, you don’t want to come face to face with his downturned mouth or his muted spirit or his big, sad eyes. You’re expecting all three, and you just know the combination will feel like a punch to the gut. It’s what you deserve though, for the way you acted. 

So you force yourself to stand up and amble to the door, your steps weary and your shoulders tense. You’ve just opened it and entered the hallway when you hear Jun’s soft voice, barely traveling to where you stand. 

“We’re gonna be spending some more time together, baby. I think I’ve been working and leaving mommy alone with you too much, she needs to be able to take care of herself too.”

You tiptoe down the hall and peek around the cased opening, finding Jun sitting on the couch with his back to you and your seven week old foster kitten held up in his hands so they’re eye to eye. Peanut blinks his big eyes, seemingly listening to Jun and content to be cradled in his big, warm hands. 

Every hint of exasperation melts away as your heart swells, leaving you feeling weak enough you have to rest against the wall to hold yourself up. You’re about to stumble your way into the living room when a knock sounds on the front door, making you jump and wonder who could be here at this hour. 

Sure, it’s only nine PM, but it’s nearly your little family’s bedtime, your schedule much more regular now that you have a kitten to care for. Jun doesn’t seem fazed by the visitor, rising from the couch smoothly and hugging Peanut to his chest as he turns to walk toward the hall. 

He does startle when he sets eyes on you, before he sends you a boxy grin and smooches your cheek on his way to the front door. You follow him on light feet, watching as he carefully sets Peanut in his carrier and picks up a canvas bag. The door opens to reveal Wonwoo, who takes both the cat and the bag without much fanfare. 

“See you tomorrow, Peanut. We love you,” Jun calls, waving as Wonwoo returns to his car before closing and locking the front door. He faces you next and smiles a bit more shyly, taking your hand and guiding you to the bedroom without speaking. 

“What’s going on?” You ask cluelessly, your fingers clinging tightly to his when he tries to pull away. 

“I thought you could use a night off, so Peanut is having a sleepover with his cousins,” he says nervously. “I hope that’s okay. I can go sleep on the couch if you want to be completely alone.”

“No!” You exclaim before continuing, “I mean, the sleepover is sweet and thoughtful, and I do need a night off, but I don’t want to be alone without you.” Your other hand flies  up to grab his and pull him to sit on the bed next to you. “You’re not upset with me for earlier?” 

Jun shakes his head rapidly, his hair tousling on his forehead, “Of course I’m not upset with you, baby. You just needed a break.” 

“Well… I’m sorry, anyway,” you frown, playing with his fingers. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It happens,” he shrugs easily, brushing the moment off like it’s nothing. 

You’re lucky to be engaged to someone who balances you out, who can withstand your high strung tendencies, who understands when you’re overstimulated and stressed and knows how to make it better. 

God, you love him. And you want him to fuck you brainless. 

It’s been hard to find time for intimacy lately, between raising a kitten and trying to get enough sleep, and you’re aching for him in a way you haven’t felt since his last long business trip. 

His sex drive is even higher than yours so you’re sure he’s missed you too, and it takes little more than a look into his eyes and your hand dragging his up your thigh for him to get on board. His lips are on yours before you can take another breath, his other hand freeing itself so he can cup your neck and angle your head to deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance immediately. 

You grant it without a second thought, your lips parting for him as his fingers slip into your pajama shorts and skim over your pussy. He loves to tease you, loves to make you gasp and plead before giving you exactly what you want as if he never withheld it from you in the first place. 

Usually, you can endure it with no problem, but tonight, you’re desperate. 

It’s been weeks since you had the time and energy for more than a messy makeout in the dark, and already you can feel heat gathering deep in your stomach, feel your cunt starting to throb for him. 

You pull away to whip your shirt over your head and scooch further onto the duvet, smiling at the way his eyes immediately zero in on your bare breasts. He follows you, climbing up and straddling your waist, pulling his own shirt off before leaning down to kiss you again, his lips hungry and his hands wandering. 

His fingers roll your nipples, tugging them, pinching them until your back arches and you whine into his mouth. He swallows it eagerly, responding with a low moan and dragging his hands down your stomach. They can only go so far with him on top of you like this, and you feel him huff against your lips when he realizes he’ll have to move to get your shorts off. 

A giggle bubbles out of you as he heaves a dramatic sigh and shifts to lay at your side, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your pajamas and wrenching them down to give him access. You bicycle your legs until you can fling them away, uncaring of where they land now that Jun is slipping one arm under your neck and pulling the leg closest to him over his own to open you up. 

His fingers swirl over your stomach and down between your legs, the light touch making you tense in anticipation. You expect him to tease you, to make you wait for it, so you cry out when his fingers coast over your clit and sink right inside, curling into your sweet spot before you’ve even gotten used to the feeling of fullness. 

You turn your head to look at him with shocked eyes, and he just smiles to himself and spreads his fingers, scissoring them inside of you and grinding his fingertips against your front wall again. You find you can’t look away now, not when you can watch every expression play out on his face, watch the way his eyebrows furrow when you clench around him and the way he bites his lip when your hips buck into his touch. 

He’s so beautiful, your Jun, and so, so, so good with his fingers. 

It helps that they’re long, lithe, agile, his knuckles dragging against your squeezing walls as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. They crook into your g-spot every so often, not frequently enough to build you up but enough to make you want more. You always want more of Jun, it’s part of how you got together in the first place. 

When you were friends, you wanted more. 

When you were dating, you wanted more. 

Now that you’re engaged, you still want more. 

You have a feeling that this desire for him will never fade, that too much could never be enough, that even after you’ve spent your life with him, you’ll still. want. more. 

Thank goodness Jun is always willing to give himself to you, even if he does make you work for it. 

You’re working for it right now, fighting not to beg him to just make you cum already, your pussy wet enough that you can hear every thrust of his fingers. You know he can hear it too but you’re long past being embarrassed with him, especially when you get this wet for him every single fucking time. 

He’s pleased by it, you can tell by the light flush on his face, the dark look in his eyes, the weight of his gaze on your pussy as it sucks in his moving fingers. Finally, he starts hitting your g-spot with every thrust, his thumb shifting to press flat on your clit and rub tiny circles that make your brain melt. 

You gasp and let your head fall back on his arm, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel yourself get closer and closer. It’s almost in sight, your orgasm, you just need a little bit of focus and maybe one more finger. 

You open your mouth to ask him for it, but before you can even get a word out, he’s saying, “No, I don’t want you to cum yet.” 

“What?” You ask despondently, blinking your eyes open to stare at him in disbelief. 

“I want you to wait,” he tilts his wrist to get a better angle, fucking his fingers into you even harder, even faster. “I’ll let you get close, but I don’t want you to cum until I’m inside of you.”

“Why?” You whine brokenly, your hand coming up to grip his arm for strength as he denies you. 

“It’s an exercise in patience,” he smirks, his eyes playful when they dart over to connect with yours. 

You don’t ask any further questions, gravely accepting his decision and resigning yourself to this new form of teasing. 

For what feels like hours, he builds you up and brings you back down, tapping directly into your g-spot then leaving his fingers stagnant inside of you, rubbing your clit with his insistent thumb then shifting it just to the side. 

You take it all, blubbering half the time and moaning for the rest, your eyes filling with tears as he pushes you right up to the edge then pulls you right back. 

It’s a method of torture you didn’t know him to be capable of, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s more you don’t know. You almost hope there is, because that just means there’s more of Jun to learn (and you always want more). 

You wonder how he’s got so much self control. You can feel his dick twitching and leaking under your leg, even through his pajama pants, and if the roles were switched, this would already be over. 

It’s getting to the point where you’re on the verge of cumming every other minute, needing less and less from him to work you up, your orgasm dangling so close you can almost taste it. 

“Juuuun,” you whimper desperately, unsure of how much more you can take. 

He glances over at you and can’t seem to look away, his face growing closer to yours until he’s nose to nose with you, your watering eyes connected with his. 

Then he pulls his fingers out, tears down his pants, and fills you with his cock before you even register the emptiness. 

The stretch is immaculate, the heat of him otherworldly, the pleasure all consuming. 

You suck in a breath, feel yourself bear down, and cum harder than you ever have in your whole goddamn life. It steals your voice and your vision, leaving you to listen to every choked out sound leaving you and every grunt and whimper coming from Jun. His hips smack into yours rapidly, wildly, the drag of his cock inside you intensifying every feeling in your overwrought body.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you shudder against him, your legs trembling and your pussy spasming as he bursts within you, his cum painting your rippling walls and filling you to the brim. 

When it’s all over, you don’t move for eons, your eyes gently closed and your body limp in his hold. You sense him pulling out, leaving the bed, cleaning you up with a warm, damp cloth. His fingers smell clean when they drift over your face, he must have washed his hands before coming back. He’s whispering to you as he dresses you in new pajamas, murmuring words you can’t make out in your muddled mind. They soothe you anyway, bring you to the surface enough to blink your eyes open and gaze at him. 

He smiles when he notices, cupping your cheeks and brushing his thumbs under your eyes, sweeping away the tears that fell without your notice. You summon enough energy to pucker your lips, and he smiles even wider before pressing his mouth to yours in a sweet, soft kiss. 

Soon enough, you’re drifting off again, his head resting on your chest and his arm banded over your stomach, keeping you safe. 

He fucks you three more times that night, and when you wake up to a knock on the door and a kitten to care for, you actually do feel like your patience has grown. 

AN: i still don't feel super confident writing Jun but I'm glad I tried! I had a good time and I enjoy him immensely!

Seventeen Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#svthub #k vanity #✨em’s interludes✨ #junhui x reader #junhui smut #junhui imagines #junhui scenarios #wen junhui x reader #wen junhui imagines #moon junhui x reader #wen junhui smut #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #✨emily writes✨

[moon-rivr]

friends with benefits

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

warnings: protected p in v, doggy, mating press, missionary(if you squint i guess 🥸), overall smut lol

author’s note: thank you for all the support on “eres mía” <33. it was more than i could’ve imagined for my first fic and i hope you enjoy :))

word count: 1644 🫡

You and Miguel had an arrangement of sorts, he would call you whenever he felt horny and you would show up to satisfy those needs. Every time. The arrangement had been working out perfectly for the most part, except for one little problem. You were starting to catch feelings for the cold, distant man with every sweet caress he would give you and every sweet whisper on your skin after you two had finished.

Miguelito: Hola chiquita, can you come over tonight? (little one)

recieved 2:04 am

Your phone vibrated on your nightstand at two in the morning, waking you up as the words flashed brightly on the screen. You rubbed your eyes, still half asleep, as you read the text message, seeing the previous messages of its nature taunting you through the screen. You wanted to say no, wanted to resist the temptation, but a part of you couldn't stand to reject the feeling of being wanted at least for an hour. You wanted him and were willing to take anything that he would give you, even if that was only sex requests after 12 am.

you: i'll be right over

sent 2:05 am

You got up from your bed, not bothering to fix your blankets since you knew that they would be your comfort after you and Miguel finished. You walked into the bathroom, taking note of your tired expression before starting to brush your teeth, your mind wandering off to Miguel. You got in the bath, scrubbing yourself clean and shaving, wanting to appear the best for Miguel even though you were pretty sure he wouldn't notice otherwise. After about 15 minutes of obsessing how good your skin would smell underneath him, you settled on putting something easy to take off.

Half an hour later, you knocked on the door and waited outside, tapping your foot anxiously. Miguel answered the door a few seconds later, the grey sweatpants he had on not doing any justice to the pitter patter of your heart. You glanced up, noticing the glasses on the bridge of his nose and his furrowed brows, almost impatient that you took so long to get here. "Come in," he said after a couple of seconds of silence, stepping back to let you in. You walked inside the apartment, taking your shoes off as courtesy before walking over to the sofa where you saw his laptop and a couple papers scattered around. "Long night?" You asked, hoping to make some conversation before you got down to it. "Sí, pero no vienes por eso, hermosa," he replied, his voice dropping about two octaves as he picked up his work stuff. (Yes, but you're not here for that beautiful)

He leaned over, entrapping your body between his and the sofa as he slowly began kissing your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, your hands entangling in his hair as he nibbled on the skin, wanting to mark you as his despite the current situation. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his lips only leaving so he could take it off. His eyes darkened a bit as he noticed your lack of a bra, his mouth instantly attaching to one of your nipples, his tongue eager to taste you. One of his hands went up to the other breast, playing with it as he pinched it with his thumb and pointer finger, and soon enough, both of those switching places. He looked up at you as he sucked on your nipple, your hands pulling on his hair gently.

He pulled away from your breasts, kissing down your stomach as his hands worked on removing your panties, tossing them to the side. He kissed your thighs, gently nibbling on them as he looked up at you, getting fed off of your reactions. His mouth inched closer to where you needed him most, leaving a chaste kiss on top of your pussy before his fingers started rubbing on your folds. His mouth replaced his fingers, his tongue running up and down your folds before going inside of your weeping hole, the squelching noises making you cringe a bit in embarrassment. He looked up at you as he continued his assault on your pussy, placing your legs on his shoulders to get better access. "Tan mojadita y solo para mi," he murmured, his tongue on your clit as his fingers replace his mouth, pumping in and out of you slowly. Your back arched from the couch, practically grinding up against his mouth as he worked you into an orgasm, your hands tightly intertwined in his hair. "S-so good, Mig!" You moaned out as you felt yourself release against his fingers, glancing down as you watched him start to lick it up. (So wet and just for me)

All the sleepiness from earlier quickly dissipated as you watched him take his sweats off, his tip an angry red leaking with precum down the side. He always did say he ate you out for his pleasure and not yours. You dropped down to your knees, looking up at him as you gave it a tentative lick, watching his eyes turn a darker shade of red with your teasing. You gave him a few more kitten licks, driving him towards the edge before wrapping your mouth around his tip, your hand wrapped around his length as you stroked. He grabbed his cock from you, slapping your cheeks with it and slathering his precum on your face, enjoying the way you looked under him. He let out a couple whimpers, his hand on the back of your head as he guided you deeper, giving you praises as you did. "Que princesita tan buena para mi," he murmured, watching as you took his entire length in his mouth. He held your head down, watching the tears falling down your cheeks as you struggled to take him in wholly. He held your head in place as he started to thrust his hips, watching the bulge on your throat become more prominent. (What a good princess for me)

"Que boquita lo mas de linda," he moaned out as he felt himself coming closer to the edge, using your mouth to his pleasure. He released in your mouth as he felt your hands playing with his balls, cupping them in your hands, the salty release hitting the back of your throat before you swallowed it. You licked the corner of your mouth, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. He picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his head dropped down to your neck, nipping at the skin and kissing it while he walked to his bedroom. He tossed you on the bed, grabbing a condom off the bedstand, kissing down from your neck to your stomach. He gave himself a pump before putting the condom in, sliding his cock in slowly to get you adjusted. He watched your every reaction, your face contorted between a mix of pleasure and temporary pain as he pushed in deeper when your walls welcomed him in. (What a pretty little mouth)

He began a slow pace, slowly thrusting his hips in and out of you as he gripped the headboard above you with one hand. You watched his upper arms flexing as he held the headboard, feeling yourself grow more aroused at the scene unfolding in front of you. You started to move your hips against his once you felt comfortable with having him inside, his pace starting to increase. He grabbed your legs, putting them on his shoulders as he started to thrust faster, watching your brows furrow and the way your mouth opened into a "o" shape. "Coño tan perfecto y solo para mi," he murmured into your skin as he thrusted in deeper and faster. Your hands held onto the bedsheets tightly, taking in every word he was saying as you moaned out his name. "M-Miguel!" You moaned out, feeling yourself come to your climax, your knuckles turning ghost white from how hard you were gripping the bedsheets. (Pussy so perfect and just for me)

He flipped you over, getting you on all fours and sliding in with ease, his hands holding your waist tightly. He started thrusting in slowly, watching as you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your sounds. He started to move faster against you, wanting to hear you practically scream his name and you complied, your moans echoing throughout the room and your hands gripping the sheets underneath tightly. He pulled your hair with one hand, his hand still tightly gripping your hip as he thrusted in deeper inside of you, practically reaching your cervix. He let out a moan as he bent over, pressing his mouth to your shoulder, his fangs gently digging in as he bit down. Miguel felt your walls squeezing around him, the hand that was in your hair traveling down to your clit as he started rubbing circles. You released against him, your juices soaking him as he let out a small moan, thrusting in quickly while he felt himself creeping closer to that edge. He came into the condom, filling it up and took a couple seconds before pulling his softening cock out.

You took a couple seconds to gain your composure once more before getting up from his bed, walking over to the restroom to pee. You let out a small breath as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and getting dressed, taking notice of the small hickeys littered around your neck and the bruises forming on your hips from how hard he gripped. You finished up getting dressed, grabbing your car keys and phone from the bedstand, already knowing how most of this goes, and only stopping when Miguel clears his throat to speak up.

"I think we should end this, chiquitita."

#moon-rivr #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel smut #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman smut

[rocketrhap3000]

the great shirt debate

summary: bucky and reader doing laundry together, pure domestic fluff

a/n: one of my old fics, rewritten for bucky <3

warnings: no use of y/n, beefy!bucky needs his own warning and there is one tiny reference to intimacy but otherwise this is 110% tooth rotting fluff and therefore i am not responsible for your dentist bill ;)

my main masterlist

The pile of dirty clothes in the laundry room had only grown exponentially over the past two weeks. You and Bucky had both been nonstop working, which meant that the household chores got pushed aside. Luckily, the two of you are both relatively clean people, so the worst was really only the laundry, and the accumulation of Alpine’s pristine, white fur all over the floors and couches.

And after a lazy Saturday morning sleeping in (resting up after various intimate reunion activities after almost two weeks of no time together), you and Bucky finally decided to get on with the chores.

He took on the vacuuming - rearranging the furniture so he could get under and behind things -  while you started on the laundry. You emptied the hampers, stripped the beds, and filled up the washing machine for the first load before wandering back to the living room to check in on Bucky. From afar, you’re able to hear the soft whirr of the vacuum cleaner, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight that falls upon your eyes when you walk into the living room.

Your six-foot-something super-soldier boyfriend has your pair of rose gold headphones over his ears, completely unbothered by the sound of the vacuum, and wiggling around, lip-syncing and dancing to whatever song is playing in the headphones as he sucks up the white cat hair from the navy shag area rug. He’s sporting a simple blue henley and a baggy pair of grey sweats that somehow still accentuate his bum perfectly, but he’s just so adorable that you can’t help but interfere with his task.

You walk up behind him, then snake your hands around his torso, and he reacts with a small jump, clearly not expecting you. He looks down at you with a loving smile, switches off the vacuum, then pulls his headphones off his ears, letting them rest around his neck, and you can hear that he’s listening to Ella Fitzgerald, ever the old soul.

“Boo,” you hum, softly scratching your fingers over his tummy.

“Gosh, you scared me, Sweets,” he laughs, cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment as he pulls his phone out of his pocket to pause the music, then pulls the headphones off his neck and tosses them to the couch.

“Sorry, you just looked too cute,” you giggle, and he turns around in your grasp, leaving the vacuum to stand on it’s own so that he can wrap his arms around you, too.

“Mm, thank you,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to sweetly kiss your forehead. “You’re pretty cute, too.”

You only keep him for a little while longer before you let him finish up his task so you can move onto tackling the mess of papers and random things that had collected on the kitchen island over the past two weeks, causing the sleek wooden countertop to barely be visible.

By the time you finish sorting things out, taking them to their proper spots in the house, and sanitizing the kitchen counter, you make it back into the laundry room to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer and put a new load in to be washed.

It’s not long before you’re back with Bucky, watching as he finishes up vacuuming the entryway. Then, the two of you break for lunch together. It’s nothing extravagant at all, but it’s just the simplicity of spending time together again that makes you feel all giddy inside. The two of you take some time to lounge on the couch after lunch, too, just taking in each other’s touch and affection that you’d missed so much.

Eventually, you both reluctantly decide you should get back into finishing up the laundry, since it’s the last thing to check off the list before you’re done with everything. Bucky puts on your Spotify playlist on the tv in the bedroom and the two of you get to work folding and putting away the first load of clothes to replenish your nearly empty closets.

You’ve dumped out the warm, fresh clothes onto the bed and sorted through the pile, each taking your own clothes to fold, but Alpine thinks you’ve made a nice, warm bed for her. Laughing, both you and Bucky shoo her away gently, and she makes her way to her spot on the windowsill, instead. 

It’s generally easy to find and separate your clothes; Bucky has a pretty select wardrobe of flannels, henleys, and earthy tones, so yours are easy to pick out among them. But sometimes, there are discrepancies as to whose clothes are whose.

“Oh, that one’s mine, too, Love,” you speak up, pointing to the navy v-neck on his side of the pile.

“This one?” he asks, placing his hand over one of his henleys.

“No, the blue tee,” you clarify.

“This one?” he asks again, this time picking up the right shirt, and you nod in confirmation. “Sweets, this is not yours,” he laughs.

“Yes it is,” you laugh back. “Hand it to me?”

“Sweets, it’s not yours. I swear I wore it like two days ago,” he tries to reason, but you’re not convinced.

You and Bucky share clothes frequently - well, you steal his clothes frequently - but you know for a fact that that is your shirt, even though you know Bucky would wear it, given the fact that sometimes his style choices consist of skin-tight tee shirts to unknowingly (or knowingly) flaunt his chiseled upper body. You’d never complain though; Bucky’s beefy, muscular form is absolutely perfect to you, and you love to see him comfortable in his own skin.

“I think you have one like it, but this is definitely my shirt. Look at the neckline, silly. Besides, this would’t even fit you, super soldier,” you laugh at him.

“You’d be surprised!” he laughs back.

“Mm, I know some of your shirts are like a second skin and I’m definitely not one to complain,” you tease, and he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “But this is one hundred percent my shirt, Bucky.”

“It’s mine, Sweets,” he grabs it from you again with another laugh, then folds over the neckline seam to look inside. “Look at the… tag."

“Mhm,” you cross your arms over your chest pridefully.

“There is no tag,” he deadpans, blush rising up from his neck and settling on his cheeks.

“What an astute observation, Detective Barnes. And why do you think that is?” you tease, taking a step closer to him to poke his taut tummy.

“Because you cut the tags off all your shirts...” he gives his answer, rolling his eyes in defeat.

“Which leaves us with the only conclusion!” you taunt him.

“It’s your shirt,” he sighs, folding the shirt ever so neatly before respectfully setting it down on your side of folded clothes.

“Mm, thank you,” you hum with a giggle, wrapping your arms around him and resting your cheek against his chest. “But if you really wanna borrow it, I’m sure you’d look great in it, Buck,” you tilt your head up to look at him, and his bashful smile makes your heart skip a beat.

“Oh, stop,” he chuckles softly back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

~~~

thank you so much for reading! reblogs and feedback are so greatly appreciated and help my blog out so much 💘

Bucky taglist below, link in bio to be added :)

@lharrietg​​​  @enchantedbarnes​​​  @buchanansebba​​​ ​  @verygraphicink​​​​  @writing-for-marvel​​​  @marvelatthetwilight​​​   @jackiehollanderr​​​​  @lets--be-honest​​​​   @writerwrites​​​​ ​​​  @arabescapr​​​​  @real-jane​​​​  @mellyteddybear-blog​​​​ @listenthemoose​​​​ @lhharrysworld​​​​ @mcufossilman​​​​ @danireal17​​​​​​​ @hallecarey1​​​​ @selluequestrian​​​​ @engie115​​​​ @emi11ie​​​ @matchat3a​​​ @sonicisnotsober​​​ @balekanemohafe​​​ @mogaruke​​​ @seitmai​​​ @dracosluvbot​​​ @caplanbuckybarnes​​​ @midgardianminx​​​​ ​ @jesslove23-blog​​​ @dumb-fawkin-bitch​​​ @jessybarnes​​​ @pandaxnienke​​​ ​ @alexxavicry​​  @spideysimpossiblegirl​​ @rach2602 @samlworld @nsuiswitch @thearieunhinged​

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #avengers #marvel #tfatws #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff

[ghcstao3]

marine biologist/diver!ghost x selkie!soap au Thoughts

marine biologist ghost who, whenever he has spare time, will go diving with some colleagues to collect trash from the ocean—because maybe it doesn’t make a huge, immediate impact, but it still means something is being done.

then one day while diving, ghost is accompanied by a seal. at first it only observes, and ghost is plenty happy to admire from afar, but then the seal is cozying up to him. it latches onto his leg, nudges him with its snout—even directs ghost and his group to trash that’s otherwise pretty well hidden, wedged beneath coral and rocks and sand.

it saddens ghost, just a little, when the sky starts getting dark and they have to head back. he doesn’t want to abandon his new friend—it’s rare they have wildlife hang around for this long—but unfortunately it’s not safe to wait any longer before going home.

but then the next time they’re able to go diving, the seal is there again. it plays at the same routine, helping out and goofing around, sticking dutifully by ghost’s side even when there’s others along with him. and time after time, it’s the same thing. no matter where the group is, the seal somehow always finds him. they end up lending it the nickname soap, after the odd amount of empty bottles of cleaning products the seal seems to locate for them.

it’s maybe a few months later that soap doesn’t show up, and it’s an instant cause for concern; there’s no reason soap should be missing. they’re in a similar area that the seal likely frequents, there’s no reason for soap to have moved or be huddled away with other seals to have pups.

the group worries, but there’s nothing they can do but theorize and assume as they carry out their regular chore. it’s only a once-off, by this point. maybe soap just didn’t feel like coming out to play just this one time.

but it happens again and again. soap doesn’t appear once, and it has the group of scientists worried sick. but without a tracker, or even a real idea of where soap might frequent when he’s not helping the group, there’s nothing they can do.

they return to shore later than usual one night. it’s completely dark by the time they dock, and ghost waves everyone ahead to go home because they’re all tired, he can manage clean-up by himself.

ghost is just about finished packing up when he sees the figure at the end of the dock. the marina is like a ghost town otherwise, nothing but the sound of turning waves and boats gentle bumping up against the port. ghost approaches slowly, not knowing what other business one could possibly have at the water this late.

“you lost, mate?” ghost wonders cautiously.

the figure steps closer, silver moonlight revealing some of his features. the man looks about ghost’s age, maybe younger—only it’s hard to tell with the haggard look on his face, as he nervously wrings his fingers and avoids ghost’s gaze.

“i’m… sorry i haven’t been around,” he apologizes, and ghost frowns. “someone… someone took my coat.”

ghost’s brow furrows. “i don’t… your coat? i’m not sure i underst—“

“my coat,” the man affirms. “i need it to swim. which is why i haven’t been able to help lately.”

not certain how it’s possible, ghost grows even more confused. he doesn’t get it—a coat to swim? being able to help? nothing makes sense.

“you’ve lost me,” ghost says, shaking his head. “wish i could help, but—“

as ghost tries to push past, the man seizes his arm. he peers up at ghost pleadingly, and while ghost had wanted to conclude the man was drunk or high or something—he hesitates, seeing that look.

“have you ever heard of selkies?” the man asks, an edge of desperation in his voice.

ghost shrugs. “sure i have.” he’s hardly well-versed in mythical creatures, but he knows the gist.

the man doesn’t say anything—just continues to look at ghost with those sad eyes, a plea for understanding like an explanation couldn’t be spoken aloud. so ghost thinks on it a moment.

the coat, the inability to swim without it. not helping out and not being there starting to sound like a reference to soap. to the seal.

ghost’s eyebrows nearly raise to his hairline in disbelief.

“you’re not really saying you’re soap, are you?”

maybe-soap frowns. “who’s that?”

right. “i mean the seal that’s been following our diving trips,” ghost clarifies. “and you’re saying… because your coat is gone—“

“taken,” soap corrects, “i couldn’t go. i wanted to find you, but i didn’t know how, and… and…”

soap looks frazzled, like his brain has disconnected from his mouth and hands in empty gestures in words trying to convey what he’s thinking.

ghost tentatively sets his crate of gear on the wooden planks of the dock before placing his hands on either one of soap’s shoulders. maybe the story isn’t all there, and maybe there’s still doubt in ghost’s head about any of it being the truth—but ultimately, ghost believes the man. believes it’s soap.

slowly, ghost says, “calm down, and tell me how i can help. we’ll get your coat back, yeah?”

soap offers him a shy, watery smile—but a smile nonetheless. he nods and begins to tell ghost everything.

it doesn’t take long before they’re hatching a plan to win back soap’s freedom.

#i can’t find the tiktoks rn but that’s what this was inspired by #ignore typos #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

[actiniumwrites]

𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 [𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄]

synopsis: they ignore you after an argument

characters: xiao, heizou x gn! reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries in xiao’s, near death experience in xiao’s, like one or two cuss words in heizou’s

notes: so this is the last part for like a month or so (i’m taking a small break from this series). i’m also only doing two more parts after this, so please don’t send more requests for characters because i already know what the last two will be !

part one (scaramouche and yelan), part two (childe and ayato), part four (kaeya and alhaitham)

Xiao:

Arguments with Xiao were far from uncommon. Even before you were dating him, you knew that he just couldn’t always see things the same way you did.

You were a skilled fighter and a vision holder and you often went out fighting and protecting Liyue yourself, but that didn’t mean you never needed help.

Besides, Xiao had always made it clear that if you ever needed his help to call out for him. Yet, the argument you had with him proved otherwise.

One day, after rescuing you from some overly dangerous monsters, he had brought you back to the Wangshu Inn and ended up scolding you, which later resulted in an argument.

He said you were relying on him way too much. That you could understand, but he had also called you weak and annoyingly over dependent. The minute you had started crying, he fled your shared room and left you alone.

When Xiao had come back that night, you tried your hardest to seem normal around him. You didn’t want him to think you were being dependent anymore, but it’s not like it mattered anyway. The second you tried to talk to him, he walked right past you and went to bed.

You’d hoped that maybe he was just tired and didn’t want to talk, but you were far from right.

When you had woken up the next morning, Xiao wasn’t there. Normally, he’d have breakfast with you, even though he didn’t really like human food, he’d tolerate it for you. But when you walked out, he was gone. No note or anything.

You sighed and ate by yourself, but chose not to mope around. If Xiao thought you were weak, you were going to show him you weren’t.

So after eating, you got all your gear and headed out to the mountains of Liyue in search of some monsters. It took awhile, but you eventually found some pretty difficult ones: several mitachurls, some abyss mages, lots of hilichurls, and even some really big geovishaps.

You jumped down and got to fighting. It was a bit difficult, you could admit that, but it wasn’t hard enough that you hurt yourself. Once you got done, you looked down at all of them, feeling rather accomplished.

“Xiao!” you called out.

No answer.

Your shoulders slumped and a dejected frown formed on your face. It was useless and you were right, he wasn’t going to talk to you. He wouldn’t even listen when you called out his name.

You knew he was mad, but you didn’t think he was that mad.

—

When you got home that night, you found Xiao already home and cleaning up his wounds. You reached your hand out to tap his shoulder, but quickly retreated. There was no point, he would just shrug you off anyway.

Maybe some dinner would get him to talk? You thought.

You sighed, hoping it would work. You were even going to make his favorite, almond tofu.

An hour later when you had finally finished cooking, you called for him to come eat dinner. There was no reply, though. So you called for him again, a little more hesitant this time.

You frowned and grabbed the plate, walking to the door to your shared bedroom, “Xiao?”

When you walked in, he was sitting on the bed, wrapping his arm in a light layer of bandages, “Xiao? What happened?”

No response.

Your eyes dropped to the plate in your hands and you hesitated before speaking again, “I know you don’t really want to talk to me or even look at me right now…but will you at least just eat this food I made you? It’s your favorite.”

You set the plate next to him and he turned to face it, not sparing you a glance. He looked at it for a few more seconds before pushing it far away from him and back toward you.

The slight hope you felt that he might consider eating it quickly crumbled at the sight of him pushing it away. He nearly looked repulsed.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, disappointed.

—

The next morning, you decided to not get your hopes up and to just leave Xiao alone. You didn’t know how much longer he was going to continue acting the way he was, but you knew he would give it up at some point.

For hours that day, you fought several monsters and cleared out many of their camps. You were exhausted, but you needed to clear your mind of the argument, and fighting was the only thing helping.

You glanced up at the sky, noticing its darkening colors before looking to your last camp of monsters. Your eyes felt heavy and your chest was heaving from being out of breath, but you knew you had to keep going. Besides, it was your last camp so it wouldn’t be that much extra work.

You cleared them with ease and were packing up some stolen goods you had found to return to the guild later when you suddenly were pushed to the floor.

A sharp stabbing pain entered your side as you were being tossed around on the ground. You couldn’t see anything, but you knew you were being attacked by monsters.

When you were finally able to get back up on your feet, you rushed to kill whatever was attacking you. But more and more just kept coming.

Strike after strike, they just kept coming. Not even your vision could help you at this point.

You screamed out in pain as more sharp pain entered your side. Slashes covered your face and arms and although you didn’t want to, you called for him.

“Xiao!” You screamed out.

No answer.

C’mon, please! I need you…

Tears formed in your eyes as you crumbled to the ground, you weren’t ready for your life to be over. You didn’t even get to make up with Xiao.

But you couldn’t take anymore fighting. There was just too many monsters, too many for a human to handle.

You shut your eyes and curled into a ball, and with your last bit of energy, you tried again, “Xiao, please…”

A green flash was all you saw before something slammed into your head, knocking you out cold.

—

When you woke up, you felt rather disoriented and confused. You were shocked to see you were even still alive. You moved to sit up, still confused as to where you were, but were quickly pushed back down.

“Don’t move,” a rough voice spoke, “You’ll hurt yourself.”

You turned toward the voice, shuddering at the brightness of the room, “…Xiao? Where are we?”

“The Wangshu Inn, I brought you back here last night after you called for me.”

Your face suddenly felt hot and your eyes filled with tears at the realization. Xiao’s face contorted into one of confusion at your tears, if anything, he felt should be the one crying.

“Are you in pain? What’s wrong?” He spoke, alarm evident in his voice as he gently placed an arm on your shoulder.

“Nothing…I just,” you paused to breath, “You were ignoring me and I thought you weren’t going to show up. I thought I was going to die, and I only proved your point. You were right, I’m weak and I depend on you too much. Archons, I’m so sorry you had to save me again-”

You were cut off by his lips on yours. Xiao wasn’t normally so bold, but he didn’t know how else to shut you up.

When he retreated, he gently wiped off the hot tears on your face, “You do not have any reason to be sorry. I am at fault for saying you need to stop depending on me. You are my s/o, and it’s my job to protect you too. So…I apologize.”

The room was silent for a few moments before you began giggling to yourself.

“Why are you laughing? Did I say something wrong?”

You wiped your face as you calmed down, “No, no! It’s just, I’ve never seen you be so..gentle and sincere before. It’s kinda funny.”

“I am not gentl- stop laughing. I don’t see what’s so funny.” he crossed his arms with a frown.

“Calm down, Xiao, I accept your apology and…it is a little funny,” you smiled.

Xiao wanted to tell you off again, scold you for calling him gentle or soft, but he just couldn’t. Not when you looked so happy. The guilt that filled his heart before washed over him once more, he couldn’t stand to ever ignore you again.

You and your smile were worth far too much to him to ever be so childish again.

Heizou:

When Heizou and you began dating, you were sure you guys would get into arguments all the time.

Shockingly enough, you didn’t. In fact, arguments between you and him were quite rare. Heizou is a pretty easy going guy, so it wasn’t often there was major conflict between the two of you.

Usually it was just something stupid or funny like who was going to have to cook dinner or do the laundry.

The only problem was, when you did seriously argue, it got bad. They were usually pretty intense and got bitter very quick, often resulting in you guys saying untrue and overly mean things to each other.

The argument you had last night was one of those - the bitter and intense ones. You had brought up the fact that you didn’t like how flirty he was with other people, despite being with you. But he was in a bad mood from work and quickly lashed out on you.

He was quick to call you insecure, jealous, and stupid for overthinking. He even had the nerve to scoff when you started crying before leaving to go to bed for the night without resolving the issue.

The following day, you weren’t really sure what to do with yourself. You wanted to talk to Heizou, apologize and fix what happened, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Besides, you weren’t so sure he was eager to fix anything himself either, especially seeing as he had already left for work without so much as a kiss goodbye or mentioning he was going to leave.

For a long time, you had known Heizou to be the type of guy to just let things boil until they nearly spilled over, but it scared you to see the way he was going to handle this. He never really stayed mad for too long, so it was odd to see him blatantly ignore and avoid you that morning.

Apologies or not, you couldn’t mope around all day, anyway. You still had a job in the main city and couldn’t just stay home because you were upset.

You worked at Uyuu Restaurant, and though you loved your job, it was always dull on the days that there was hardly anyone dining there. You sighed as you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, your head resting on your propped up arm — just a few more hours and then you could have your lunch break.

When your lunch break finally did come, you became a bit nervous. Usually your detective boyfriend would come and bring you lunch and you guys would have lunch together outside the restaurant, but he never showed today.

You weren’t sure you even wanted to see him, but was he seriously not even going to bring you food? Sure, you could eat at the restaurant since you worked there, but you were tired of their food since you ate so much of it when you first began working there.

Heizou also mentioned once that he preferred you eat home cooked food opposed to restaurant food all the time. But really you knew it was just an excuse to have lunch you everyday on your break, not like you minded though.

Your eyes snapped to the clock once more, only 15 minutes left and your break was over. Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. Heizou wasn’t going to show.

You almost felt like you had just been stood up on a date. Even the way the owner and your boss glanced at you with sad eyes made it feel like that. But you ignored it and kept your head down as you untied your apron and left.

You preferred Heizou’s cooked food a million more times over anything purchased from a restaurant or food stand, but you had no choice today. You wandered around the main street for a bit before settling on a small food stand and picking up a quick lunch.

As you walked off with your food, you thought about maybe eating outside where you and your boyfriend normally ate, but decided against it. You didn’t really want to be reminded of him right now.

For now, you would just have to eat quickly and get back to your boring old work for the day.

—

When your shift ended, you felt so relieved. Today was so incredibly boring you nearly wanted to scream in the restaurant or go outside and beg people to eat there so you would have something, anything to do.

You said your goodbyes and goodnights to the owner and the other staff as you walked out of the empty restaurant. All you wanted was a warm delicious meal and a nice bath. Maybe you could even cuddle with Heizou for a bit-

Oh yeah..Heizou…the argument. You had completely forgotten all about it.

You felt your mood drop at the reminder of it all. Your eyes remained on the ground as you continued walking, the argument from last night replaying a million times throughout your mind.

“Wow, Mio, you really made all of these yourself? You are so talented, you should tell me more sometime.”

Your eyes snapped up at the voice and you felt your feet stop walking, it was as though you were frozen in place.

“Oh, Mr. Shikanoin, you are too kind,” Mio blushed.

“How could I not be when I’m talking to someone so pretty?” he said smoothly, you even heard Mio giggle, “Tell you what, you give me some information on a certain customer and…”

Your boyfriend’s words were suddenly drowned out and you felt dizzy. You tell him you hate the way he flirts with other people, he lashes out on you and ignores you, and then you find him flirting with someone else..again?

How were you supposed to listen to that?

“Um..Mr. Shikanoin, I apologize, but is that someone you know?” Mio asked warily.

He turned over in the direction she pointed at, his flirtatious smile falling off his face at the sight of you standing just a mere five feet away with tears flowing down your face.

“…Y/n?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn’t, “Forget it.”

“Hey! Y/n wait, come back!” he shouted as he ran after you.

You were quick, but he eventually caught up to you. Grabbing your wrist gently, he turned you around to face him, but you shrugged him off.

“Leave me alone, Heizou. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Okay, but I want to talk to you..” he gently spoke.

“Really? Now you want to speak to me?!” you faced him, tears continuing to stream down your now flushed face, “You ignore me all day and now that I don’t want to talk to you, you stop? That’s not fair, you made me feel like shit last night for expressing my concerns and then I find you flirting with someone else again!”

“It’s not what you think-”

“I don’t care what it is, okay?” you stuttered out, “Just…leave me alone.”

You turned to walk away from him and to your shared house. You reached up a hand to cover your mouth to contain your sobs, but it was no use, they escaped anyway.

Two arms quickly made their way around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. Even though you didn’t want to, you melted into him, sobs muffled by your head against Heizou’s chest.

“Shhhh…it’s okay,” Heizou cooed, “I know you don’t want to see me right now, but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said last night, okay? I was just in a bad mood, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to say things like that.”

Heizou moved to sit you guys down on a nearby bench under a tree before continuing, “I’m sorry for not listening to you and ignoring you like that. And I’m sorry for going off and flirting with Ogura Mio, even though it was part of an investigation. I should’ve listened to you and respected your wishes, so I’ll stop flirting with other people. I just want you to know that I never meant any of it, I only ever did it to find out information for cases.”

You wiped your eyes as you leaned on his shoulder, staring out at the city, “You’re going to have to make it up to me, you know?”

“Seriously? I just give you that heart-felt apology and your already demanding stuff from me?” he joked, and you half-heartedly laughed.

“Yep, you owe me. I want cuddles every night and you’re cooking for me everyday, all three meals for the next month,” you smirked, “Until then, I don’t forgive you.”

Heizou jokingly rolled his eyes before smiling down at you, “Fine, fine! C’mon, let’s go home.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin angst #xiao #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x you #xiao x gn reader #xiao angst #xiao angst to fluff #heizou #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #heizou x y/n #heizou x you #shikanoin heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x y/n #shikanoin heizou x you #heizou angst #heizou angst to fluff

[the-modern-typewriter]

ive been obsessed with your work and i honestly just can't get enough of them! Could i make a request please please please! Supervillain captures hero and tortures them for months until they suddenly get bored of them and ask villain to get rid of them. Villain doesn't know that it's hero he was ordered to kill by supervillain and when he enters the cell where hero was he becomes shocked by what he sees and can't get himself to kill hero. Please continue this however you like im so excited!!

The villain stopped in the doorway of the cell.

It would be wrong to say he stopped dead, given being dead was supposed to be a relatively peaceful thing after the horror of it all.

(The hero, surely, wished that they were dead.)

The villain's mouth worked, but no sound would come out at first. He felt like he'd been punched in the windpipe. In the stomach. In all the vulnerable, gasping places.

(The hero, surely, would find that laughable given the state of them. They would love to only have the air knocked out of them.)

They lay in a broken heap in one corner of the otherwise pristine cell - no chance of infection or disease ending their suffering early, oh no. They were a blot of colour against the white of it all. Bruises yellow and purple and green. Blood red. The glint of bone where no bone should be visible.

Perfectly clean, glossy hair. Intricate, shiny restraints untouched by the violence around them. No clothes.

"Have you come to kill me?" the hero asked.

Their voice was raw, raspy, whether from disuse or screaming he couldn't be sure. It was impossible to miss the most tentative note of hope in the hero's tone.

The villain swallowed. Hard. "Yes," he said. Then, "I've been ordered to. I -" He swore. "I didn't know you were here. I didn't - oh god. How long have you been here?"

He willed down the nausea. What right did he have to be nauseous?

It was impossible to miss the hope and, abruptly, equally impossible to fulfill his task.

He crossed the room in one swift movement, kneeling at the hero's side, flailing to pull off his jacket. To cover the hero with something soft and kind against the bitter chill of the dungeons.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay? It's going to be alright."

He didn't want to bring a blade down on the hero's ruined flesh, he wanted to offer soothing creams and bandages. He didn't want to invite the hero to drink poison, when he could give painkillers. How could he destroy? All he wanted was to fix.

The hero's gaze finally moved over to him, with seemingly great effort. There was very little behind their eyes. Everything except desperation had been carved out, leaving them some hollowed thing with their innards dumped like garbage on the side.

The villain was reminded of Halloween pumpkins and husked-out dolls, rabid dogs too exhausted to do more than froth and whine.

"Please," the hero said. "Don't."

Once upon a time, the hero had never pleaded. At least not without a glint in their eyes, a mocking twist of their bright mouth, like pleading was a favour, an inside joke that they were both in on.

"You don't want to get out of here?" the villain demanded.

"I don't want to wake up here again tomorrow."

"I won't let that happen."

"Like you didn't let this happen?"

The villain flinched. There was nothing he could say to that, was there? He could beg forgiveness, but the hero didn't even say it like accusation. It was just a matter of fact. Resigned.

"Finish it." The hero closed their eyes, apparently done with the conversation. "If you ever cared about me. Just...just finish it. You need to finish it. Please."

The villain pulled a knife obligingly from one of his many sheathes. He'd seen a lot of dead bodies. His hand wavered, utterly unable to imagine the hero as one of them.

"No," the villain said. His shoulders squared. "No. You're right, I let you down. God, I let you down. But I - I'm going to fix it. I'm going to fix this."

Maybe it was selfish. He'd never claimed to be an altruistic man.

He stepped out of the dungeons some twenty minutes later, gently cradling the hero's body in his arms.

He stopped a second time.

The supervillain lounged against the stairs leading up, eyes glittering, a delighted grin upon their face.

The villain's mouth dried. He glanced down at the hero, who tensed, but did not seem surprised.

They seemed...guilty.

The villain's stomach plunged icy.

"Oh, you failed," the supervillain crooned. They pushed to their feet. "I really wasn't sure which way it would go. We had to have a little bet."

"You-"

The supervillain attacked with monstrous swiftness. Both hero and villain cried out as they hit the floor; the sounds impossible to distinguish from each other. Everything rang sickening with pain.

The supervillain caught hold of the villain's hair, yanking their head back. In an instant, the villain felt their powers sweep over his body, locking every joint and muscle in place. Rigid. Rigor-mortis.

"Good job," the supervillain said, to the hero, in the tone of one promising a lollypop to a toddler. "As promised, you can go now. Crawl away if you can. The front gate locks in one hour! You know what happens if you don't make it."

The hero choked on a sob.

The villain and the supervillain both watched them, agonisingly, try to move. They managed a mere inch. Dragging themselves, with bloodied-nails, across the polished floor.

Then the supervillain turned their attention, dismissively, back to the villain. They tightened their grip, dragging the villain's body back towards the cell, the way they'd come.

"Ah well," they shrugged. "That's a them problem."

"No." It came out a wheeze, barely audible through the villain's frozen lips. "[Hero], please, what-"

"This," the supervillain declared, throwing him down where the hero had been. "Is going to be so much fun. Traitor."

#heroes and villains #angst #tw: violence #villains and heroes #I considered going sweet and then...well #villains #dark fiction #writing #darkfic #writing snippet

[l0v3tast3]

do you think we could get the 141 bois with a military!reader who had a guard/attack dog with them, and went out on missions with reader, and the dog got KIA’d, and reader is taking it harshly, because they grew attached to said dog?

My dog recently passed away and I kinda just.. need some 141 bois.

🥃-

✎ i'm so sorry to hear that honey :( losing an animal is a horrible pain and i hope you're doing okay!!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, angst but i tried to keep it vague, otherwise pretty much just platonic fluff, not proofread

♡ to put it mildly, the 141 guys thought you were a bit weird when you first joined, along with your dog. you spent more time with the animal than you did with humans, training, doting, just generally being in the same space.

♡ eventually the team came to understand your bond together, and who doesn't love dogs? while it was always yours, it also kind of became the team's dog.

♡ so when price had to haul you over his shoulder while you screamed at him to let you go, to let you back in that ruined building, they all felt it. they felt it the entire way back to base, the absence of the waging tail and you cooing at it on the entire helicopter ride back.

♡ you try to pretend like you're doing okay for a couple of days afterward. brief smiles that didn't fit right on your sunken face, exchanging polite greetings that sounded so dull. they walk on eggshells, always unsure of what to say to help you.

♡ they wait for you to break, and when you finally do, they send kyle in first. they figure he has the best shot of conveying their empathy to you (he's just as awkward as the rest of them, he just volunteered himself to try to help you first because they were all just staring at each other when soap brought it up).

♡ he brings you a case of bottles of your favorite drink and snacks, dropping them on your desk before sitting next to you on your bed. he asks you faintly if you want to talk about it.

♡ he lets you get it out, lets you cry and rant and whatever you need in that moment while he sits with you. when your tears finally run dry and the weight in your chest doesn't feel as empty, kyle gives you a hug and rubs your back for a few moments.

♡ the other three men are waiting when he comes out, and kyle shrugs and says he thinks he helped. soap snorted and asked him "what's that mean?" and kyle explains briefly what happened.

♡ they manage to coax you out of your room the next day. ghost and price were somewhere else on the base, and kyle had taken over soap's attempt at cooking eggs (i sincerely believe soap can only cook well enough to keep himself alive while kyle is actually pretty good). they sit you down and make you eat. soap takes the credit for the eggs even though you obviously saw kyle finishing them, and it makes you laugh a bit.

♡ they drag you to sparring practice, despite your many, many protests. you find that that's where ghost and price have been. they put you up against ghost first, and you're convinced that they're trying to make you more depressed now.

♡ as soon as he's coming at you, you're in "soldier mode" again and just focus on trying not to land on your ass too hard when he throws you down. usually you're a good sport and always shake hands after the rounds, but frustration was bubbling up quick today with every time you got pinned. you found yourself putting more and more into it, until you were actually fighting, clawing, biting, doing whatever you could. ghost let you and he took it easily. it was exactly what he would have needed if he were in your position; he still didn't just let you win, though.

♡ soap doesn't really know how to help you in a big way, so he just makes sure the little things are taken care of. he helps you clean your weapons and makes sure kyle buys the right drinks for you when he sends him out even though kyle knows what to get. he sticks around you but doesn't make it seem like you're on suicide watch or anything, just that you don't have to be alone for too long. he makes sure you eat, and you always answer "yes" because you don't even want him to offer to cook for you.

♡ it takes a couple of months before you're almost back to your normal self. there's always something missing, and you still reach down to your side on instinct, but the pit in your stomach stops opening quite as wide. you learn how to remember the happy memories again.

♡ when you're ready and if you feel like it, price is the one that takes you to start looking for a new furry friend. you know everything there is to know about dogs, and he knows you know it all, but you still get lectured about what to look for and what to avoid and not to get too close in case they try to bite. basically, he just becomes your father.

♡ "not that one, 's lookin' at me funny," he'll say once you start looking at them. "that one won't even make it through the heli ride!" basically, he thinks none of the dogs here are good enough for you, even though they're all wonderful in their own ways. he almost walks away when you kneel down and start giving scratches to a pomeranian that hadn't stopped yipping since you'd walked in.

♡ while they may all be emotionally-stunted men, they know what loss is like. they'll be there for you in the ways that matter.

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #drabble #headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price #john price x reader #fanfiction #— lilly writes! ♡

[differenteagletragedy]

I need to know how Cove would react to his baby coming out looking exactly like him - green hair and all 👀

"Ok. Ok. I got this," Cove said resolutely, quickly centering himself the way he did when he was trying desperately to be calm enough to handle something.

You always thought it was cute, how hard he still had to try sometimes to settle his nerves. You would have commented on it, but another contraction ripped through you then, leaving you doubled over in the living room the apartment you shared with Cove.

You were having a baby. Soon. And seeing you in so much pain was all Cove needed to move into action.

He was by your side in a second, gripping your arms and supporting you through the pain. He kept an eye on his watch while he did it, and when it was over, he said, "Time to go."

Slinging the bag you'd packed and left by the door over his shoulder, he put his arm around you and led you down to his car. He carefully helped you into the front seat, slung the bag in the back without a care, and hopped in the driver's side and started towards the hospital.

It was a short drive, but you had another contraction on the way over. Cove held your hand through it, and if you'd hurt his hand by bearing down with all your strength, he didn't react to it.

When you arrived, he all but carried you inside. You were quickly checked in and moved to a room. Cove gave them the information about your contractions, and it looked like it wouldn't be too long until it was time to push.

After calling your moms to let them know that it was time, he never left your side. He held your hand, endured your screaming, and encouraged you as best he could until finally your doctor announced that the baby's head was crowning.

Cove kept a firm grip on your hand -- not that he really had much of a choice with how tightly you were holding his -- but moved to take a peek at your child being born. You weren't paying too much attention to his expression, being otherwise occupied, but you did see that he was starting to get extra emotional.

When you'd finished your job of delivering the baby and he -- it was a boy, the doctor had cheerfully announced -- was placed on your chest, you were exhausted but so completely in love with your son. Cove moved back by you, leaning down plant several kisses along the side of your face as you looked at the baby.

"He's perfect," he whispered. "You did such a good job."

"He is," you agreed, "but I can't believe I spent nine months growing him for him to come out looking like your clone."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later, after you and the baby had gotten checked out and given a clean bill of health, the three of you were tucked away in your hospital room. Cove was perched on the edge of your bed, holding the little boy while you rested. He had him cradled close in his arms, looking down on him in awe like he had for the past several hours.

"He looks just like me," he said, glancing over at you. "But he's so cute."

"That's because you're so cute, Cove," you explained for probably the tenth time.

"But he's ... he's probably the most beautiful baby ever."

"And you're the most beautiful dad ever. I took biology with you in high school, I know you understand the basics of genetics."

Cove, with the lightest touch possible, moved a strand of the baby's seafoam green hair off to the side and a laid a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"It's crazy though," he went on. "It's not just the hair. That's my nose and my chin and everything."

"I know."

"The only thing that's different is his eyes, they're dark blue."

"They change, remember?" you told him. "When he gets older they'll probably change to his real color."

"Really?" he asked excitedly, the nodded. "That's right, I forgot. Maybe they'll be like yours though."

"Doubt it," you said with a smirk.

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About six months later, you were lying in bed, trying to get some much-needed rest. Cove was taking care of the baby while you took a nap, but as you started waking up, he burst in the bedroom, obviously excited but trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Are you awake?" he asked in a loud whisper.

"Yeah, is everything ok?" you answered.

He threw himself down on the bed, landing next to you on his stomach. He sported a triumphant smirk, looking as smug as you'd ever seen him.

"What is it?"

"His eyes," he said, wiggling his body and bumping it into yours. "They're getting lighter. Like mine."'

You groaned and put your pillow over your face. Cove had gotten cocky in the cutest way about how adorable your son was, and how much everyone said he looked like him. Now it was only going to get worse.

"We could always try for another baby," he offered, bumping into you again. "This one could end up looking like you. Probably not, since I obviously have the superior genetics, but there's a chance."

Without answering, you pressed the pillow down, pretending to smother yourself.

"Come on," he giggled, moving the pillow. "Would it really so bad to have another baby that looked like me?"

You looked over at him, so handsome and happy. Your lifelong best friend, your husband, and the devoted father of your child.

"No, I guess not," you smiled.

#our life beginnings and always #our life #olba #cove holden #cove x you #cove x reader #cove x mc #cove holden x reader #cove holden x mc #cove holden x you

[swirlymarimo]

Zoro sits silently at the otherwise empty kitchen table, his head nestled against his palm as he watches their ships cook flit around, preparing breakfast for the crew. It's early. Too damn early if you ask him, the sun is barely just rising over the horizon. Its light is soft and golden, pouring in from the window on the adjacent wall.

He had been sitting alone in the crows nest, finishing up his nights watch when he had heard the familiar squeak of the galley door. After finishing the last of his push-ups he grabbed the towel from the bar on the wall and wiped the sweat from bis brow. "I should probably shower." He spoke into the deafening silence. Sanji would want nothing to do with him if he waltzed into the kitchen in his present state.

With the cook up and about, he decided it's fine to end his watch and move to the bathroom to freshen up. It won't take long, things would be okay with ten or so minutes of loose supervision.

Now here he sits, clean and refreshed watching the love of his life be the most obnoxious type of morning person there was. How someone can be this full of energy before the world was even awake will never makes sense to him. Right now he seems to be humming some old shanty while he tossses ingredients into a large mixing bowl.

He looks beautiful in the early morning light. The golden sunlight is casting a halo that makes him practically glow like treasure. Not to mention how cute and domestic he looks in his stupid pink apron.

"Need some help?"

He just can't shake the pull of soul wanting to be closer to the man at the counter. He was breathtaking. Zoro wants to burn this image into his mind.

Without even turning to spare him a glance, Sanji answers, "No, I'm alright. I don't have much to do."

"You were just saying yesterday I need to help out around the ship more." Zoro knows the comment was merely an excuse to bicker at the time when it was said, but now perhaps it can be his excuse to be closer. He really means to say "I just want to be domestic with you." But he's certain the cook can read between the lines and understand that he just wants to do something simple in each others company.

Sanji humors him this time, turning and placing one hand on his hip. "Do you even know how to do anything in a kitchen?" He asks.

In all honesty, no, he does not. So he makes his best offer, "I can do the dishes you're making. Dry them and put them away too. Or I can help you cut stuff. Kind of my thing isn't it?"

Zoro tried to joke, but Sanji doesn't find it comedic at all.

"Please its not the same kind of cutting at all. Cutting things in the kitchen is far different in technique than weilding a katana." Sanji now turns back to his station and adds the batter he's made to the waiting skillet on the stove. It sizzles for a moment as it hits the hot surface.

"I can't become the greatest swordsman if I can't even master a kitchen knife. Show me. Then I can help." Zoro mentally pats himself on the back for his clever in.

His smirk falls when Sanji laughs loudly. "Are you serious? You'll take my instruction on something?"

Zoro has to brush off the small amount of annoyance he feels at being teased. Remembering his ultimate goal is to participate in some form of bonding activity he keeps at it.

"Yeah. I master a new blade. You get breakfast done a little quicker. It's a win-win."

Sanji turns again to face his lover who seems very intent on helping today. "Is this really because I said you aren't very helpful around the ship? Because I wasn't being that serious, you do plenty." He feels a little bit of guilt creep into his chest.

"No. It's not that." Zoro gives Sanji a soft look, one he reserves only for the blonde. "Look pretty cook I just want to spend some time with you before everyone gets up. That's all." Zoro confesses.

Sanji gives Zoro a look of his own. Soft eyes and a small, genuine smile.

"Okay lover boy, first things first, go wash your hands. You're not touching anything until I know you're not contaminated."

Zoro smirks in victory, a smart remark already on the back of his tongue

"Yes chef."

And Sanji rolls his eyes so hard they may just roll right out of his head, but even so, a light laugh rings into the quiet galley.

#zosan #zoro x sanji #zoro and sanji #my post #established zosan #zoro wants to help #sanjis love language is quality time #zoros love language is acts of service #mini fic #ficlet #zosan ficlet

[delopsia]

Thinking about all the things Rhett had to deal with while growing up on the Abbott ranch and how his world tips on its head when you come into his life.

He's forever conscious of how Perry was born out of love, and he was born because Royal realized that it would be cheaper to have his kids working than it was to hire help. Poor Cecelia was so blindsided by her baby fever that she didn't realize why Royal went back on his "I only want one kid" statement until after Royal hauled five-year-old Rhett out to work on the ranch for the third day in a row. An entire two years younger than Perry had been when he started working.

And the problem with Royal, is that arguing with him only makes him dig his heels into the dirt, refusing to sway on his decision.

Most of the kids in his school worked and had their responsibilities to help keep the household running, but Rhett was the only one who had to do his homework on the bus because otherwise, he wouldn't have time to do it until he went to bed. Just like he was the only kid to miss every single field trip, because why should he go to the zoo with his class when he could be working with Royal?

He doesn't understand why his dad snaps at him for crying over his injuries but soon comes a time when he doesn't care about the bruises littering his arms. Gets annoyed when Perry cries about crushing his hand. Nothing's broken; there's no reason to get worked up over it.

That exact thinking keeps him quiet the first time he gets hurt bullriding. So focused on chasing the same small-town glory as his father that he doesn't mind the sprained ankle. Getting on again and again because, for a few fleeting seconds, the crowd cheers his name, and the sound of their applause is the thing he's grown to crave.

There was some point when the workload in the house started shifting. When Perry was starting to reach the end of his high school days, started to fight a little harder against Royal's iron fist. And with an explosive temper that nearly dulls Royal's, it only made sense that he started getting his way. Enjoying days off, weekends spent touring colleges, and venturing out into the real world, because of how his explosive demeanor always devolved into threats that shook his momma to her core.

But one less pair of hands on the ranch meant that the others had to take on more work, and with Royal's old bull riding injuries coming back to bite him, Rhett was the only one capable of taking it on. But just because you can doesn't mean you should.

Hiring just one ranch hand would have made all the difference, but the prospect of losing money is something Royal's always disagreed with. Slowly, Rhett's work days grow longer. Dinner time no longer makes the end of his work, having to go back out to finish up while everyone else showers and settles in for the night. Waking up before school to get a head start on chores, hoping he'll be done early tonight.

It never happens. Where he finds free time, Royal finds things he could be doing, and Rhett starts learning that lying about needing to do store runs is the only way he'll get a break.

The way Royal refused to let him and Perry have cellphones until they turned eighteen and could buy them with their own money. The result of a privilege revoked after a thirteen-year-old Perry got caught on his phone at two in the morning ended with a smashed phone and a brutal reminder of where the eldest son gets his anger from.

A rule that was forced to be overturned when Rhett was sixteen. All because something in the west pasture spooked his horse; she'd run him clean over in her attempt to get away from it, and he never saw her coming. He still doesn't remember hitting the ground, but he does recall the splitting ache in his skull when his eyes finally reopened.

With no cell phone, he had no way to call for help, forced to limp home on foot. He didn't get home until after dusk because Royal had written his absence off as teenage rebellion. A hospital visit later, Cecelia went behind her husband's back to buy new phones for both of her boys, but even the justification of keeping her boys safe wasn't enough for Royal. Because Rhett had made it home and was fine at the end of the day.

Then Rhett's eighteen, and he's just barely maintained his grades to graduate. He's got it in his head that he's going to move out, get out of this stuffy old town, and pave his own way, doing something, anything. But now Perry and Rebecca are moving into the house with their daughter, and Rhett's being asked to put off his plans until they get settled in.

He's nineteen when he gives up on trying to leave because something always needs him to stay home a little longer. He's twenty when he figures out why Royal drinks so much beer, gets hooked on the way the bitter liquid makes the ache in his shoulders disappear, and for the first time in a while, he's happy. Because you can't remember your sorrows when you're drunk.

Rhett's twenty-one when he can start wandering into bars, and he's twenty-one when he learns that there's a group of girls who come to rodeos, hoping to catch a steamy night with a bull rider, no strings attached. It's strange to kiss a girl you don't know the name of, waking up alone in a hotel bed with hardly any memory of what happened the night before. But for a few splitting seconds, he doesn't feel so alone in this big world, and he's clinging to it with every fiber of his being.

Until that's not enough, either. The scream of the crowd, the electric touch of those pretty girls that cheer his name, no longer make his days easier. Beer quits chasing away the pain in his joints, the prescription painkiller for an old injury in his wrist had might as well be candy, and he can only escape it by blacking out. He doesn't remember getting that DUI, but Officer Joy tells him that he was muttering about how Royal wanted him to chase down a cow that broke through the fence. He's in such rough shape that she intentionally forgets to discharge him, hoping the day of rest will do something to get rid of the bags under his eyes.

She isn't quite sure what to think when she learns that he's practically been running the Abbott ranch for the past few years. Royal always fails to mention his youngest son when he brags about his ranch.

Then you come along.

A fresh new face, one of the only people to move into Wabang rather than out of it because your new job led you all the way out here. It was Sherrif Joy who suggested you visit the Amelia County rodeo once or twice, and you'd only gone because there was nothing else to do. Rhett didn't notice you until Joy came to congratulate him on his ride, with you glued to her side. He hasn't stumbled through a hello in years, but he can hardly get it out of his mouth.

Your face sticks in his head while he works, and God, he doesn't even know your name, but his heart is jumping in his chest when you run into him at the store, time and time again. Until he finally cracks and starts a conversation with you while waiting in line, and somehow that ends in the two of you standing in the parking lot, talking until the store closes. An invitation to get drinks turns into dinner dates, and he's got something to look forward to again.

All of a sudden, you're massaging his overworked hands and cradling his scruffy face like he's made of glass. Whispering about how he needs rest and deserves all the love you shower him with, and he's not sure what to make of that. Can never figure out why his eyes water that first time he lays his head on your chest, listening to the pitter-patter of your heart while you play with his hair.

His momma is the only one whose ever done that; she stopped when he was fourteen.

He doesn't know how to tell you that he loves you. Those words choke in his throat every time he tries to utter them, stifling him into a painful silence that he can't escape. Instead, he does the only thing he knows how to do.

He works.

Replaces the busted locks in your doors, changes the oil in your car, he builds the porch you say you wanted, and he tinkers away at the little household annoyances. You want a fence? He's got it; he just needs to get up earlier to have time to build it. You're telling him that he doesn't have to do all these things for you, but work is the only thing he knows how to do. If he stops, then what else can he give you?

He doesn't understand what you see in him; he's not as energetic and fun as those other rodeo guys who eye you up every time they see you. They have more money, they're stronger, don't have the aches and pains of an old man, and they haven't got the reputation of being the town casanova.

He doesn't understand how you look at him like he's something precious—some priceless thing that deserves the world and more. There will come a day when you realize you deserve better, more than he could ever hope to give you, and he knows it'll break him, but he lets you love on him anyway. Because a few months spent with you is the best thing he could ever ask for, even if you walk away in the end.

But you're not walking away. Fuck, he's probably given you more opportunities than the Lord can count, but for some reason, you stay. And you're spending your first Christmas together, he's buying you too many sweets for Valentine's Day and he's spoiling you on your birthday, only to get confused when you surprise him with cake on his own birthday. Can't remember the last time he blew out candles, only realizes he was supposed to make a wish three days later.

Selfishly, he wishes that you'll be with him forever.

You're taking him to the zoo for one of your dates, and for the first time in his life, he's looking back at a tiger, and it's so, so different from the pictures. There are otters, bears, cheetahs, and wait, wait! Why are there goats in a zoo? Hasn't everyone met a goat before? What's so special about these ones? And how the fuck are giraffes so tall?

Royal says the red-panda plush Rhett hauls home is a waste of money. He could have saved that money to invest in land or a future, but all Rhett can think of is how, when he squeezes it to his chest at night, he can almost deceive himself into thinking it's you instead.

But then comes that big argument; he forgets what its about midway through, because he's realized that this is it. This is when you realize that he can't give you what you deserve. He can't blame you, but that still doesn't stop him from breaking when you walk out to your car.

He doesn't know what the hell to think when he realizes you're in the room with him. Couldn't hear the squeal of the door over the choked noises coming from his own mouth, eyes so clouded with tears that he can't even see you. But he can feel your arms around him, and he doesn't want to hug you out of fear of this being a dream. Yet you're still there, and you're not promising you're never leaving him, and he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand. And it scares him so bad that he shakes with it.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to let go of him because he clings to you with this fear that you've never seen before. Words aren't enough to convince his broken heart that you're not going anywhere, and for the first time since you met him, he talks. Spills every fear and thought he's ever had through his hiccups, confirms your suspicions of how much he hurts, and unveils the sources of his insecurities.

Your big cowboy falls asleep with his face buried in your neck, and he's still there when you wake up. It's the third time he's stayed in bed and didn't go to work, but it's the first time he's chosen to stay. Usually, it's a physical injury that forces him to stay down, but this is an injury you can't see. A fracture in who he is, broken after a lifetime of increasing pressure that he never stood a chance against.

He follows you into the kitchen, no longer trying to conceal the limp in his left foot as he tries his best to help you cook breakfast. You don't know where his appetite came from, but you've never seen him meekly ask if he can make himself more fried eggs.

It's only after that he remembers the argument about how you got a job offer that would take you a few states away. Out of Wyoming and away from him. But it's your dream job, and it hurts to see Rhett's bottom lip wobble as he weakly tells you to go for it. Dreams come first, after all.

Like many things, he doesn't know what to think when you tell him your dream has changed. You want him to come with you. Leave this flyover town, find a job that doesn't ask the world of him, and share a cute little house with you somewhere in the countryside. He doesn't get why you'd want it with him, but fuck if that isn't the one thing he's always wanted.

Royal thinks that Rhett's lighter attitude is because of his recent decision to move in with you. Cecelia already knows what Rhett's up to without needing to be told.

It takes a year for you to move. Just after you lock your front door for the last time, Cecelia's car appears in the driveway. Neither of you can figure out how she knew you two were moving out today, but she's brought a box of things that her youngest deserves to have. Pictures, his first belt buckle, that first cellphone that got drowned in the kitchen sink, and a freshly knitted blanket. A housewarming gift. She says it's good luck for a couple to have one and to not hesitate to call if you need anything.

That blanket sits on the back of the couch in your new living room. Rhett only curls up with it when he's feeling homesick, which had might as well be the entirety of the first six months in this new house. He finds a job at a local ranch, is lucky enough to have his beloved horse shipped out to stay there, and slowly, his true colors start to bleed through.

Or maybe they were always there, simply dulled by the exhaustion that once seemed to permanently sit in his weary bones.

Because his smile reaches his eyes more often, and his prescription painkillers have long since expired. His body a touch softer, the result of a rediscovered appetite, and he reaches for you more than he does a can of beer. Gripings about his father are replaced by laughter that echoes down the hall. He's still got that limp, but he chases you up the stairs quicker than he used to. Those gaudy belt buckles never leave, and never do you. Always there when he comes home from work, ready to meet him for his favorite welcome-home kiss.

Rhett will never be the son Royal asked for, but he will always be the man you've dreamed of.

And he's more than enough.

#rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #delgato's warmups #delgato's thinking #tw food #tw alcohol

[angelltheninth]

Genshin Men Stamina Headcanons

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Itto, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano, Zhongli x Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, edging, praise, degradation, biting, blowjobs, cum marking, scratching, slight pain play

A/N: I did a post like this for Geralt once so I feel like I owe one to my new Genshin fans as well.

Kaeya can go on for multiple rounds with you. He might need to pull out and make himself hard again after he comes but he won't leave you hanging, instead using his mouth and fingers to get you ready to take another load.

Diluc likes to come in your mouth before he actually comes inside of you and due to his training he has the stamina to do so fairy quickly. He likes to it when you watch him stroke himself to full hardness, encouraging him, whispering softly into his ear. You better be careful or he might just come all over your body instead if you praise him too much.

Childe likes to challenge you to keep up with him if you can. He can fuck you long into the night and sometimes even to early hours of the morning if you let him. Sometimes he'll make you come so many times that you're so sensitive you fall apart at even the slightest touch, and he'll keep going and going until you tell him it's too much, that you can't possibly take any more cum.

Itto seems to have endless stamina, sometimes he swears all he wants to do is fuck you, fuck every hole in your body, have you bounce up and down on his big, hard cock, his claws scratching your back, leaving long red marks as he gives you another big load of his seed. He also gets hard again pretty quickly so you can expect some pretty rapid cum shots, if he can't come inside you then he'll gladly mark your pretty body with his cum, watch you clean it up afterwards.

Dottore takes a bit of time to get hard again once he finishes for the first time but he has other ways of keeping you entertained in the mean time. Any sort of toy you like he will use on you, edge you to the point of tears, have you begging for him to just get on with it already. He'll do this every time. He can last pretty long once he sinks his cock inside you though, be it mouth or otherwise, telling how how you were made for him, made to take his cock, be his little plaything.

Pantalone likes to have your mouth on his cock almost always. Because of that he built up a little more stamina than he had in the beginning. He likes being edged though, that way he can give you a big load of cum that will satisfy you for a while so he can get himself hard once again. If that's not enough you're welcome to fuck yourself on his fingers or his thigh, he loves seeing take your pleasure so desperately.

Capitano is a huge tease. He'll let you know just how horny he is for you but won't let you satisfy him right away. He wants to make you fall apart first, to beg to be taken by him. Oh and afterwards? He won't stop. He'll give you load after load after load like it's the last thing he'll ever do. He'll make you get him hard again and again through the night and leave you a cum covered mess by morning.

Zhongli, being a god, can actually go on for days if not more. Of course he knows you can't keep up with his stamina so he'll let you rest. During that time however he likes to keep his cock warm by keeping it inside of you. Not only does he stay hard as a rock but he can also get right to fucking you the moment you tell him you're up for another round.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #itto x reader #childe x reader #pantalone x reader #dottore x reader #capitano x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya smut #diluc smut #itto smut #childe smut #pantalone smut #dottore smut #capitano smut #zhongli smut

[piccionethepigeon]

Helping hand part 1

Part 2

Summary: you give a wounded Ghost a helping hand, then he needs to help himself

Warnings: I don’t know jack shiii about Cod I’m just horny for beefy masked men so he could be out of character and other things inaccurate, sexual content, injury and blood, pining, clueless reader, also probably bad writing and grammar as this is not even my first lenguage , size kink, obsessive! Ghost

Your legs were twitching nervously under the table while working, fingertips raw from biting your nails and stomach flipped upside down; they should have been there hours ago but still no trace, no message of delays in the return, no nothing…. with worry itching under the skin it was impossible to focus on other task, even while checking the stock of medical supplies you dropped several items breaking some in the process. But doing nothing was doing no good either, they are soldiers for fucks sake they can handle a simple rescue mission without incident they had been on plenty missions way more dangerous than this one and everything went according to plan usually. They were some of the best around after all.

But this time felt different your gut was telling your so, and each tick of the clock on the white wall made the itch worse. Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock… it was making you feel insane and all you wanted to do was get up take the fucking clock and smash it on the floor, stop it and then maybe burn the pieces… you were definitely going insane, for what a bit of delay? You tought you were more rational than that.

Then the doors flew open with a push so rough that the hinges made a sharp sound that made you fear for the integrity of said doors, the doors became the last of your worries when you saw who was the culprit.

Soap was blodied, winded, and still in full gear supporting with one shoulder a man in a mask that seemed far more bloodied and limping. Ghost.

Without question you ran to support Ghosts other side even if struggling a bit since the man was massive. Soap spoke between rough breaths. “He got shot in the thigh, doesn’t seem to have hit an artery but he lost a lot of blood” you were quick to reply “place him on that chair and then go get checked by another medic, I’ll have this handled” with a tud and a groan your patient was settled in the chair and Soap was rushing out holding a gauze to his temple, thanking you before going to find another medic.

Y/n kneeled in front of him to have access to the wound not caring about being on the floor and began examining, the pants were ripped and started sticking to the skin with the blood making it hard to see the wound “Ghost im going to cut your pants for access, clean the wound, take out the bullet and suture. It’s gonna hurt but I know you can handle it” he gave a nod of acknowledgment and you began to cut the fabric carefully.

Then all the blood and dirt had to be cleaned otherwise there could be an infection, hands gentle and quick with a disinfectant and a gauze stroking the naked and raw skin you sometimes gazed at him to check and smile reassuringly, his eyes were looking in your direction but they looked distant.

No matter how gentle you were,tough he was trying to hide it but he was trembling and that could not have been a good thing. Once everything was clean the bullet had to be extracted, y/n grabbed the tweezers and sank them in the flesh using the spare hand to hold the skin around it “this is the worst part put it’s also quick since the bullet is intact, we’re almost finished” who knew if you were tried to reassure more him or yourself, keeping a steady hand was difficult.

The bullet came out and you put it away, almost done, only sutures were left. “Done, now I’ll see you up then send you to rest, hold on for a little longer please” y/n said before sinking the needle in the skin, Ghost choked a groan, and you stroke the thigh to soothe him while working, once the wound was closed you smiled up at him again while bandaging the leg. “We’re all finished, all you alright?” Y/ns eyes met Ghosts and the gaze looked weird on him, his usually almost cold eyes were scorching. Several moments passed and he didn’t reply so you tapped the his knee lightly “Simon are you alright?” His pupils shrank and then dilated again till his eyes were almost black, then finally replied “Yeah, thank you doc” he choked out.

Then he got up and before you could say anything else he disappeared limping out the door.

Was he in such a rush? Huh.

Ghost slammed the door of his barrack, then threw himself on the mattress hissing when the moment pulled his stiches. His blood was hot. No it was boiling under his skin. Closing his eyes all he could see was You, the girl that filled his thoughts more than he would ever admit kneeling in front of his crotch, ripping his pants off him… eh should not fantasize on y/n for that, it was your job after all but he could not help himself, he reached his hand on his clothed groin to palm himself and let his mind roam.

He was shaking before when y/n had cleaned the dirt off him and he began shaking but not because it hurt, the adrenaline made him numb to the pain, but somehow the soft hands on his skin made every nerve ablaze. Oh fuck then your pretty eyes looked up at him, he could see your breasts down the the collar of your shirt, and you smiled and he felt whatever blood he had left rushing, your beautiful mouth would look even better stuffed full of his cock milking him dry while he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers.

You would surely caress his thigh like you did before, and he would praise you for being such a good girl for him. Lifting his mask he spat on his hand to pretend it was your wet warm mouth.

Even while the needle was closing him up he could only feel your hands on his skin and could not look away from your lips pouting a bit in concentration.

An then while bandaging him up you asked him if he was alright, too caught up in fantasies he didn’t answer… and then you called him Simon. He groaned and shuddering he began working his thick hard length. Before that he was getting hard but after that he was stiffer than a rock and pretty sure all his blood had gone in his loins, also grateful for either the pants hiding it or you being too concentrated on his health to notice it.

Ghost cringed at the memory of himself rushing out without saying much, but he could just not help himself any longer… laughable, a man with so much self control was crumbling under the gaze of a woman half his size.

And there he was stroking his cock like a mad man, he teased himself with slow languid movements like he imagined y/n would, you looked like a saint but he was sure you were a teasing one, a naughty girl who just wants to be spanked… and he would have liked to spank you a little too much then caress and squeeze the reddened flesh, then he would finger your pussy till it dripped down your legs and then fuck you till you were cockdrunk and overstimulated, y/ns pussy would have squeezed him so good he knew it. Ghost wanted also to mark you, suck hickeys on all visible places to let all know you were his, then cum so deep in you it would drip out for days to remind you who you belonged to. He would die for you, he would kill for you.

He would claim you because you were his and his alone.

Ghost moaned and his muscles clenched while he cummed painting his hand and abdomen in white. Bloody hell.

When his mind was clear and his breathing had calmed down he realized something.

Simon Riley was fucked, he was fucked big time as he did not only desire you, he loved you

That was the only way to explain the warmth in his chest and the raw possessiveness he felt in that moment, of course he always tought you were attractive with a beautiful face to match, competent in your job, intelligent, funny, and he cared for you but he had never realized it was more than a crush, he was beyond fucked.

What was he a teenager getting hard and jerking off for a few cresses on his thigh?! He grabbed a towel to clean his mess and went to sleep with a still rock hard cock.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod ghosts #cod ghost #call of duty ghosts #smut #mutual pining #fantasies #tw #fluff #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #modern warfare #cod simon riley #cod ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #simon riley x f!reader #yandere #cod imagine #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #simon ghost Riley imagine #cod mw22 #mw2 #cod mw2 #mw2 imagine

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60

“Huh,” Robin says, squinting at Eddie before continuing to bandage Steve up.

He blinks at her. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs. “Just… I think you’re gonna be better for him than I thought.”

Steve frowns at her. “You thought he’d be bad for me?”

She flicks his forehead. “That’s not what I said, dingus. I thought he’d be good for you. I just didn’t think he’d be this good for you.”

He frowns and flicks her forehead back before beginning to smile. “So you approve of him?”

She exchanges a look with Eddie—a kind of can you believe him?—before smiling at Steve. “Yeah,” she says softly. “I do.”

Steve’s cheeks pinken as he grins first at her, then Eddie. “I’m glad.” After another minute, he flinches. “Ah- Jesus, Robs, what’re you trying to do, dig to China?”

“Sorry,” she murmurs. “Just trying to clean it.”

He sighs and tugs on her hands. “Stand up.” She does, and he frowns at her hands, still in his. “You’re shaking.”

“I hate seeing you hurt. And after everything that happened today…”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But tell me the truth, okay? Are you okay to finish this?” She bites her lip, and he sighs. “Okay. I’ll finish, Robbie. D’you wanna go talk Alli into making all of us some hot chocolate?”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to,” he answers. “You never hesitate when the answer is yes. Now go annoy Alli, okay? She’s always wanted a little sister.” He grins and ruffles her hair, and she squawks, batting his hand away.

“Fine! Fine, I’m going. But nothing had better happen in here,” she says, pointing at them. “I mean it. No funny business.”

“You know I’m older than you?” Steve asks, still grinning at her as he bodily turns her around.

“That means nothing and you know it,” she retorts, before walking out to the kitchen.

“She gonna be okay?” Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly at him. “She’ll be fine. It’s just… it’s been four years of this shit, y’know? And every time we thought it was over, only for it to come back when we’d let our guards down.”

Eddie nods. “So she’s hesitant to believe it’s really over.”

“Exactly,” Steve agrees. “But it is, this time. We made sure of it. Now it’s just… time, I guess. Time to let us process, let us realize it is really over. Time to let us get over it.”

“And you?” Eddie asks, pulling him back over to his seat and sinking to his knees, grabbing the first aid kit and pulling it closer.

“Me,” Steve agrees, a bit dumbly. He blinks a few times when all Eddie does is look up at him. “Um. I’m gonna admit, everything went to white noise the moment you knelt down.”

Eddie chuckles. “Mind out of the gutter, sweetheart, we promised Robin. How’re you holding up? What are you gonna need to do to process?”

Steve hums. “I think I just need time, too. What I’m most worried about is going back to my time, and everything that’ll have changed because of this. ‘Cause yeah, it all sucked, but I learned some really valuable lessons and made some really good friends that I wouldn’t have otherwise.”

Eddie chuckles. “I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem. It’s hard not to like you.”

Steve blushes, but fires back, “Have you met Mike?”

Eddie snickers. “Mike’s a twerp, and besides, I’m sure you can win him over if it comes down to it.”

Steve shrugs, and they fall silent, Steve watching as Eddie finishes cleaning out the wound and carefully applies a clean bandage. “There,” he murmurs, fingers lingering on the edge. “Feel okay? Too tight?”

“Feels fine,” Steve promises. “Where’d you learn that?”

Eddie sends him a crooked smile. “Before I came to live with Wayne.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers.

Eddie smiles easily at him. “It was a long time ago. I’m alright.” He sets his hands on Steve’s thighs. “Should we talk about this? About us?”

“We should,” Steve agrees, picks up Eddie’s hands to toy with them. “The hardest part, I think, is we don’t know what’s going to happen. We don’t know if the me from this time will remember. We don’t know if I’ll remember once I’m back in my time. And there’s not really a way to test it.”

“I think that makes it easier,” Eddie says softly. “Here and now, in the here and now, what do you want? What do you want us to be?”

Steve flushes and ducks his head. “What do you want?”

“Nuh-uh,” Eddie says teasingly, shaking his head with a smile. “I asked you first.”

Steve ducks his head even further. “I- I guess… boyfriends? If that’s- if you-”

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, squeezing his hands. “That sounds great.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers back, squeezing his hands. He’s grinning wide enough his eyes are slits. “Cool.”

Eddie bursts out into giggles, rocking up onto his knees to kiss Steve’s forehead. “Cool,” he agrees.

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#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #fix it fic #fix it #time travel #time travel fic #time travel fix it #time travel fix it fic #starambles