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ohcaptains · 7 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

pairing. simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader.

synopsis. simon comes home. he's too tired to fuck you right. eventually, he manages to find the energy.

warnings. 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving penetration, blonde simon lol, somnophilia, dry humping, pussy smacking, and crying during sex. i am not responsible for your media consumption.

an. :) life sucked so i found a new animated character to obsess over. please comment & reblog if u enjoyed !

When Simon comes back, he’s dog-tired.

As soon as his feet touch the welcome mat of your quaint little apartment, he feels all of his muscles relax – as if they’re unpinning themselves from his bones – and he has to give himself a pep talk to muster the energy to drag his hand up to ring the bell.

But he doesn’t have to, because you’re ripping the door open – shining like the sun – and pulling him into your body, rendering all 6,4 ft and 240 pounds of the super soldier to complete mush.

For five minutes, you don’t speak. Just hold him, as you gently rub the corner of his jaw, and brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. He clutches you to him.

His fat, paw-like hands hold your upper back, and you hold him with the same vigour. His body – wrapped in his black compression shirt and army pants – is rock solid.

It’s a weaving of muscles that have been tensed for the last two months. It’s going to take a minute for them all to soften, but like he always does when he’s been away, Simon lets out a deep and resolute sigh.

The breath warms your neck, causing it to tingle, and you grasp him tighter, your body waking up.

It’s been a long two months.

He manages to push your intertwined bodies through the doorway, using his boot to kick the door shut. His house smells like home -- funny how you can’t smell it until you’ve been gone a while.

Vanilla and a citrus fruit, mixed with the savoury scent of his favourite meal. He hums again, and you scratch the back of his head, sending shivers down his locked spine.

He knows the route to your bedroom like the back of his hand, and he maneuvers the pair of you inside.

The curtains are closed and the bed is made. You know him. You know him so well.

You let him push you back onto the bed – a blur of familiar limbs and hair – and he settles lower, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Immediately, you drag your legs up and cross them over the curve of his ass.

You’re all warm and soft and pliable. Dressed in a pair of simple cotton shorts and a vest top, he wants to grab fistfuls of you and remind himself of how you feel in his palms. Wants to drag his lips over your skin, bully his way between your legs and remind himself of how you taste.

Fuck, he wants you, in a carnal, almost primal sort of way, and you the same. He can smell it. A sweet but sweaty longing that melts from you and causes his senses to wake.

But he’s so God damn tired.

You know. Know this routine. Know that he has to settle back in.

In the meantime, you’ll just have to wait.

You fiddle with his hair. “There’s dinner if you want it,” you whisper into the dark bedroom, looping the strands between your fingers, committing the soft feel to memory.

Simon shuffles just an inch on top of you, but still, the slight movement of his clothes and hard, clenched body against yours makes you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

It’ll be chewed raw by the time he has enough energy to take you. He grunts something into your skin, and after a second, you gather it’s, tired.

His scent clouds you.

When Simon comes back, he always smells the same.

The soap at the barracks is pine scented – shampoo a strict lemon.

But there’s always a leftover grit to him. A hidden layer the soap can’t clean off, and it makes you delirious. Makes you flex your ass up – just an inch, a sweet, gentle inch that has you feeling the hard lines of his thighs and the metal of his zipper, and Simon’s breathing hitches.

You freeze. With your hips pushed tight against his, you stare at the ceiling, hoping that your worn-out soldier hasn’t felt you move.

Simon stays quiet. His breathing settles. You go to apologise, but Simon doesn’t grumble or make a sly comment. Listening closer to his breathing, you gather that he’s asleep.

Jesus, you think, that’s a record. Barely in the door and he’s asleep, he must be burnt out. Figuring that you won’t be able to crawl from under his weight, you decide it’s your bedtime too.

Sleep comes fast.

Hours later, you blearily blink awake. Not much has changed – the room is still dark, Simon is still heavy on top of you, yet now, you’re sticking to him with sweat.

He’s usually a human furnace, but this is different.

Your skin prickles, vibrating at a frequency that has nothing to do with heat. No, this is…you feel a pulsating between your thighs, and wiggle, feeling your slick coating your underwear.

Fuck, why are you so wet? You clench, and the resulting ache forces you to hiss and push your head back against the pillows. What did you dream about? Thinking back, you come up short. Then why--

Simon shuffles on top of you. It’s a slight movement, but it continues, and all at once, your heart clenches.

Holy fuck, he’s—

“Simon?” you whisper, and your boyfriend whines into your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes, the words wet and desperate. The puzzle pieces lock into place.

He knocks his hips into your crotch once more, and you gasp, clenching, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Simon’s apology comes out again, except this time, it’s christened with a “s-shit – fuck.”

Blinking at the ceiling, you huff and try and glance down, and in the dark, you just about manage to see the outline of his burly body grinding into yours.

You take stock of the situation.

Feel his fat palm around your hip, and squinting, see that he’s got your shorts pulled down around your thighs, and has the band of your underwear looped around his fingers.

Jesus Christ. You fall back into the pillows. “How long have you?” you whisper. “Five – fuck – minutes,” Simon grunts, continuing to roll his thick hips against you. His bulge knocks the edge of your throbbing clit, causing you to gasp again. There’s been no build-up to your want, it’s just there, humming electric, and spread tight over your thighs.

Simon meshes his wet mouth against your chest. He’s tugged your vest top down, too, and his lips close around the skin of your breast. Jesus. He was undressing you as you slept.

“Thought about fuckin’ you, but couldn’t get my pants down, so – shit -- tired. Jus’ woke up and you were just so fuckin’ soft. And wet, Christ, felt you through my trousers.”

Your whole body goes numb. “You were gonna fuck me as I slept?” you whisper, belly flipping. You’d told him – ages ago – that he could, but he hasn’t been here. You’d forgotten.

The image of him pulling your underwear down as you slept streaks across your mind. Imagine waking up with him inside of you, so full and wet and just on the precipice of coming.

Simon grunts. He tugs at the band of your underwear, “I’ll fuck you right, at some point. Just –”

In your delirious state, you manage to finish his sentence, “Tired, I know – I know baby.”

You kiss the crown of his head and whimper into his hair. “Just use me until you’re ready.”

Simon groans out deep and loud. It rumbles against your chest. Echoes through your heart, and you’re so turned on that you begin fidgeting.

You try and squirm away from the stifling ache of your pussy, but Simon’s built like a brick shithouse, so you can’t run from it, just gotta take it and take it and take it, until you can’t anymore, and you break.

You’re so fucked that you don’t even announce that you’re coming, but Simon knows, shit, and as your pussy clenches up tight, he growls low and hard, mumbling, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, until his movements go sloppy, and his breathing goes laboured, and he’s coming into his pants and mewling your name.

When he finally does manage to get inside of you, he doesn’t last long. No, he pushes all the way to the hilt, and you tighten up.

“Stay” you gasp, clenching your pussy around his shaft, and Simon grunts deep and long into your throat.

“S-Stay there,” you moan, then, in case he didn’t hear you, “Stay,” you whisper, and push the ball of your palm into his thick, scarred shoulder.

You were teetering on a knives edge.

You’ve come once since Simon was home, and your second orgasm of his return was right there.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Simon groans into the shallow of your throat, “Did we do enough prep?”

“Yes,” you immediately whisper, not wanting him to pull out.

He’s thick and pulsing inside of you, hard and heavy on top, and God, he kisses at your throat — soft and gentle. You try to swallow down the ball that has swelled in your throat, but tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill.

No no no no, you think. Not now. Not now not now. You try to stifle the tears, but you unconsciously sniff, and despite Simon being perfectly still, he still manages to freeze.

“Sweetheart?”

You inhale, “Yeah?”

Simon looks up; and seeing tears on your cheeks, his face falls, “Did I hurt you?”

You furiously wipe the tears away, shaking your head.

“M’just overwhelmed,” you whisper, and he presses his forehead against yours, going to kiss you, but the movement causes his hips to flex against you, nudging his cock, and you whine, immediately gripping onto the back of his dirty blonde locks.

Simon drops his face into your chest and lets out a pained rasp, “Tightening around me, kid.”

You unclench, “m’sorry.”

“Gonna come quick.”

“S’okay.”

“I’ll fuck you right, just gotta…” he trails off and grabs fist fulls of your hips.

“Fuck,” he huffs wistfully, “This pussy. Missed this fucking pussy.”

You go dizzy with need. Shake your head, and bend to kiss him, tasting his wet and swollen lips. Gently, you knock your hips up into his, and when he lets out a surprised grumble, you flex your hips higher, trying to stuff his cock deeper, further – till you can see it pressing into your belly.

Catching onto your plan, Simon grunts and pushes your hips with his fat palms, pinning your ass to the mattress.

“Stop,” he orders, and the demand goes straight to your cunt. Jesus. He hasn’t been very dominant since his return, and that little instruction has you chomping on the bit.

“Want you, Si.”

“One stroke and I’ll be fucked.”

“Just gotta practice.”

He chokes on a laugh, muttering, “Practice.”

You try another tactic. Clench around his cock and pout, “Want you to come inside me.”

“Fuck,” Simon cuts. You curl your legs back his back and push your foot into the dense muscle of his ass, at the same time rocking your hips up. Simon lets you. Let’s you try and fuck yourself on his cock. With wet lips, you push your mouth into the shell of his ear, shakily uttering his name.

“Gonna fill me up, Si?”

“Fuckin’ filthy, you know that?”

Simon pulls back, and your heart stutters.

You think he’s going to pull out, until he uses your hips to pull you tight against his cock -- your ass nearly sitting on his thighs. His thick, scarred chest is puffed up.

Cheeks red, and he’s got that animal glint in his pretty eyes.

It knocks you for six.

“Where you want it?” he asks, and you’re confused, until he presses the heel of his palm into the middle of your tummy.

“Shoot my load here, huh?”

Your body goes numb. Eyes white out. It happens so suddenly that it scares you, and you’re a mixture of turned on and frightened, but the fear turns you on even more.

All you can do is blearily look up at him as he slides his paw to the other side of your tummy, “or shoot it here. Fuck it so deep that you can taste it.”

He pretends to think about it. Even hums, before he drags his palm up and stuffs his thumb into your mouth. “Or just directly here, huh?” He snarls a smile, “know you like it when your mouth is full.”

You suck at his thumb, and tighten your cunt around his cock, causing his mouth to open, and eyes to flutter, and just like that, you’ve won.

He comes in record time.

But Simon keeps his promises.

A couple of days later – on the seventh day he’s back -- he fucks you so good, that when you wake up the next morning, you get shy just thinking about it.

Lay in bed, staring at the ceiling – your boyfriend fast asleep on your chest -- remembering the debauchery you’d gotten up to the night before.

The pair of you are a little tipsy, drunk on beer and wine, but all it’s done is heighten your senses, and made you fully aware of your desires, so much so, that they pulsate behind your eyelids like a migraine.

Simons got you face down, ass up, and as he pushes you face first into the mattress, he presses his thumb against the tight, fluttering hole of your pussy.

“Gonna let me inside, baby?”

You sink into your thighs and spread yourself wider for him, humming into your crossed arms. Simon watches your pussy spread further, and he can’t help himself, he has to slide his thumb deeper.

He presses, just barely pushing the tip of his thumb into your wet hole, and you gasp, trying to chase the feeling by inching back against his fat palm. He laughs at you. “Look at your pussy sucking my thumb in, baby. Wish you could see what I’m seeing. So fuckin’ sexy.”

You hum, the words making you wetter – dripping over his thumb.

“Been dreaming of fucking you right, gonna take you whenever I want.”

“Okay,” you whisper, so delirious that you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. Simon raises a brow,

“Yeah?” he asks, tone breathless. Thought he’d get some pushback on that one, but for a second, he forgot that you said the nastiest shit with his dick inside of you.

You nod into your crossed arms, and Simon laughs again, “Free use pussy,” he sounds, then lightly smacks your sodden folds, causing you to flinch, bucking forward.

“Oh fuck,” you choke, eyes rolling back. Heat ricochets through your crotch and swamps your belly, before settling back in your aching pussy. Once you manage to collect yourself – and it takes a second -- you huff. “Bein’ mean.”

Simon snorts, grabs your hips, then rams the underside of his cock against your pussy, grinning so big that his scars stretch, “don’t know the half of it, babe.”

You sob, real tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Your desire is visceral, enough for you to taste it on your tongue. Simon pulls back, and your slick coats the length of his dick, earning yourself another light smack to your cunt.

“Soakin’ me,” he grunts, and you sob into the sheets. “Please,” you whisper, then, please please please, and Simon hears your breathing hitch.

This time, instead of checking up on you, he chuckles, “Crying again, baby?”

You sniff and wipe your eyes on your wrist, face heating.

“No,” you mumble, and Simon sighs.

He reads you like a book. Always has. Always will.

“Lying to me,” he grumbles, then he steers the uncut head of his cock between your folds, whispering, “Lie to me again, and I’ll give you something to cry about,” before bottoming out in one thrust.

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ackermanbloodline · 8 months

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The Lethality of Silence - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

Summary: Levi comes home from a mission unable to speak or function. You take care of him.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Fluff to eventual smut. MDNI, 18+. Idk I wrote this a while ago and I'm noticing tense usage is all over the place but don't really want to edit it so I apologize for that. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

The sun is now setting outside the home that you and Levi bought almost a year ago together. Warm colors flood the room as you look towards the window in worry, wondering if Levi is alright. He and his squad were conducting a mission outside the walls and concern always flooded you when he wasn’t back home by sundown. It means the mission went either really well or very badly. Nothing in between. You begin to pace back and forth, unable to just sit still anymore.

Even though you had cleaned the house until it was practically shining and your hands were cracked because of the dryness, you wipe down everything again. Whenever you’re stressed, you clean. That’s a habit that you and Levi share.

Another hour passes before you hear the opening and closing of the front door. Faster than you can register it, you throw the rag down and pad over to the walkway. You find Levi hunched over with his head up against the door, leaning against it. Blood spattered his clothes, marring the Scouts insignia on his cloak, and caked messily in his black hair.

“Levi?” you call quietly, being careful to not startle him. In response to your calling, a heavy sigh heaves from his body. You still cannot tell what kind of direction the mission went. Once you can see his face, you’ll be able to.

You reach your hands up and over his shoulders, unpinning the green cloak from his body. His muscles are tense under your touch. Your heart wrenches. You walk over to the washer, lift up the lid, and put it in. You turn back towards Levi and plant a kiss on the back of his neck. You wrap your arms around his body but he doesn’t reciprocate the gesture in any way.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You help Levi get undressed as you run a bath for him, shimmying various items of clothing off him and carefully tossing them in the dirty clothes basket in the corner of the bathroom. He winces every now and then again but doesn’t say a word. All you can hear is his breath trembling just ever so slightly. He tries hard to hide it but he fails. Various marks litter his skin, the early stages of a number of bruises. One encased his entire left rib cage. Your fingertips lightly traced it. You swallow a thick wad of salvia to keep your composure.

Once he’s completely undressed, he sinks into the tub and his body disappears into the sudsy water below. Almost immediately, the water mutates into a dawn-tinted color. You sit on your knees on one side of the tub and motion him to sink further so his hair goes into the water. Your hand wraps around the back of his neck when he does so and your other hand is being used to softly scrub his scalp with shampoo.

He closes his eyes in relaxation and after a while, you notice he’s asleep. His trembling stops and his breaths are slow and steady in and out through his nose. His eyebrows are relaxed. His near-constant frown is turned upward into a straight line. He’s never looked more at peace. You look down at him in admiration and continue to wash him, trying to cleanse him from all the stress and worry from the day. Once his head is done, you grab a clean washcloth draped over the faucet and dunk it under the water. You wring it and bring it up to his face, tenderly stroking his cheeks and forehead from grime. Each time revealing more and more of his flawless complexion. You take this moment to admire his beauty. While he isn’t good with compliments and hates it when you make a huge fuss over him, he is, undoubtedly, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

And he’s all yours.

Once his body is all washed up, you lean forward and kiss his lips, cheeks, nose, forehead. He stirs awake and his eyes crack open. You give him a small smile.

“You need to rinse off.”

He stands up and you turn on the shower now, making sure every spec of dirt is washed off. From the other side of the shower curtain, you wipe down his entire body again. He is as stiff as a board and doesn’t move. The hot stream of the shower against his scalp feels borderline euphoric to him.

He steps out of the shower and dries himself off after you give him a towel which had been sitting by the woodstove. His movements are limited and minimal. You retrieve black sweatpants, boxer briefs, and a white shirt from his drawers and set them on the sink.

“Here are some pajamas. Are you hungry?”

He says in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard, “No.”

“Levi, please, you should eat something. How about some bread and tea?”

“Okay.”

You leave him in the bathroom to get dressed and go to the kitchen. You put a small loaf of bread on the woodstove as well as the kettle. You lean on the counter and run a hand through your hair, taking a deep breath as you do so. You’ve never seen Levi like this, ever, and you two had been together for a few years. What in the hell happened during this mission?

You have absolutely no plans to ask him tonight. It can wait until tomorrow. Right now, all you’re focused on is making him feel at home and relaxed.

The bread and tea are both steaming when you set them on the dining table. Levi had gone to his bedroom and shut the door. You knock on the door.

“Honey?”

“Come in.”

You step through the doorway to find Levi’s head in his hands and sitting on his bed. Your heart aches as you walk over and sit down next to him, carefully palming large circles onto his back. He reaches out and places a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. You take that as a ‘thank you.’ Levi had an easier time communicating through action rather than words themselves. Moments like this are when that theory proved true.

“The food is ready.”

“Okay.”

The two of you eat in silence. You split the bread loaf in half and he takes longer to eat his half than you. He has no problem getting the tea down, per usual. But something is better than nothing. The quietness is deafening yet calming for the both of you. Levi takes about a half-hour to eat his food. Once you two are done, you take the plates and quickly wash them before placing them in the drying rack.

You pad back over to your boyfriend and carefully straddle his hips while he’s still seated in the chair. He looks up at you with lifeless eyes. But there’s something deep inside them that speaks to you, even now. You brush some of his hair back from his face and set your hand on the side of his face. You gently place your lips on his, kissing him in the most passionate, loving way you can.

He weakly wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. While the kiss is very slow, there’s a certain intimacy to it. The kiss deepens and you rotate your head so the two of you lean your heads to the left. His tongue lazily explores yours. His hands settle on the sides of your thighs as your fingers find their way to his hair and stroke delicately. A barely distinguishable groan emits from the back of Levi’s throat. Wetness starts to gather in between your thighs and you can feel Levi’s cock hardening beneath you.

This certainly wasn’t on your docket for the night but you aren’t opposed to it.

You pull away from Levi, searching his face for any hints of what he’s thinking.

“Hey,” you say, leaning your forehead against his. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

He brushes his mouth against yours and you close the gap once again. You wrap your hands around the back of his chair and you grind your hips down on his. His length presses up against your cunt deliciously and a surge of pleasure washes through both of you. Levi makes another sound, moaning, a little louder this time. You want to make him feel good, to make him feel better. You couldn’t give a shit less about what your own body wanted.

Your lips travel from his mouth to his jawline to his neck, making him squirm a little underneath when you work to suck, lick, kiss, and bite the skin there. He shifts his hips upward to get some relief, but not nearly high enough as he usually can. It’s frustrating to him. You gently hump him as you kiss on his neck and the combination is enough to drive Levi wild.

“I wanna make you feel good,” you whisper into his neck.

“Then do it.”

You take his words as a challenge. You stand up and kneel down to your knees in front of him. His eyes are glued to you like a car crash. You lift up his shirt partially and kiss his abs, slowly making your way down to the waistband of his underwear. His muscles contract under your mouth and he throws his head back when you trace two fingers underneath the band. Once his underwear and sweatpants are down to his knees, his cock springs free. You waste no time and take it into your mouth.

His hands firmly grip the armrests of the chair as you go to work on him. His knuckles are white and veins are bulging. Various curses and groans leave his lips, but no coherent sentences. His hips buck up into your mouth, causing his tip to hit the back of your throat. Tonight, you challenge yourself. You take a deep breath and try your best to take him in his entirety. Your lips, inch by inch, lower further and further down onto his shaft. Your eyes sting slightly but you ignore it and continue to push.

Your lips meet the base of his dick, your nose buried in his pubic hair, and he lets out a louder moan. You are able to deepthroat him and, as a result, he calls out for you in pure pleasure. You bob your head up and down slowly, wanting to break him down in every single way. Your hands steady themselves on his naked, muscular thighs and you use them to balance yourself.

He runs a hand through your hair, gripping softly. He whimpers, “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

He uses your scalp to softly guide your lips up and down onto him. He tries his best to keep his eyes open, to see how pretty you look as you devour him, but the pleasure is too much. It is not long at all before he’s already starting to shake. Part of him is embarrassed that he approaches that edge so quickly, but he couldn’t help it. It’s you.

He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and breathes loudly as he approaches his orgasm. Just as he is about to be pushed over, he lifts you off him quickly and collapses back into the chair. You are confused as you are left on your knees in between his.

“C’mere,” he says, holding his hand out and using his index and middle fingers to usher you towards him. “Please.”

You sit back down on his lap and kiss him as he requests. He tastes himself on your tongue and the thought makes him even harder. So much so, in fact, that it’s almost painful. He pulls away and looks into your eyes.

“Fuck me.”

His voice is so sultry that it makes you drip with desire.

“Baby, no, it’s okay, I don’t want anything tonight. I want to make you feel good.”

“I’ve been through hell tonight and you are single-handedly the closest to heaven that I’ll ever experience,” he explains and looks down between your legs, your cunt sitting on top of him. “Please, sweetheart, please just fuck me.”

He is almost pleading at this point. You bite down on your lip in lust. You push your shorts and underwear to the side and you are already so wet that he goes in with ease. Both of your mouths drop open when you gasp as it goes in, reveling in that initial feeling of being so full of him and feeling your warmth encasing his cock. Your eyes roll back into your head, pulling him close to you as you relish how wonderful he is inside you.

You lower your body up and down onto him, his length thrusting in and out of you at a slow yet perfect pace. Levi’s eyes are glued to your body as he’s pinned against the back of the chair. Electricity sparks in your pelvis and spreads to your limbs as you fuck him. You two are so saturated with passion and need that slaps of skin echo throughout the room. God, you could ride this man forever. His face is priceless. His eyes are screwed shut, his mouth is dropped open, and his eyebrows are furrowed together as his hands guide your movements. He always looks so pretty when he’s being fucked.

You use one of your hands to circle your clit. Levi feels your walls clenching up around him and his eyelids open to find you playing with yourself as you’re riding him. You look so needy for him that his arousal heightens. He watches you intently. You kiss him again and your tongues instantly find one another’s, slipping and smacking with enthusiasm. In this short amount of time, he is already close again. But thankfully, so are you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says between gritted teeth. You nod your head and encourage him to do so, so close to your orgasms. With a few more thrusts, he spills inside you and you cum on the spot. His beautiful moans fill the room, as do yours. Your pelvic floor milks him for every drop and he has to steady your hips due to the sensitivity he feels afterward. He stays inside you for a few minutes, gently kissing you as you both come down from your highs.

He pulls out and some cum drips onto his thigh. Excitedly, you drop down and use your tongue to clean him up. He lovingly looks down on you as you swallow it all. His eyes are so lidded, though, that you’re afraid that he’s about to fall asleep right here.

You pull your shorts and underwear back on and you help him pull up his pants again. Without a word, you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. You both approach his side of the bed and you pull down the covers and he plops in. He takes off his shirt and sets it on the nightstand next to him. You cover his body with the duvet and you leave to go to the bathroom and extinguish all the candles in the house.

You come back and climb into bed with him to find him already fast asleep. You take a deep breath and, once again, push some hair back from his face. Again, this peaceful state is something that you wish he experienced all the time.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way.

You set a hand down on his arm and watched him sleep for a few moments before he starts to whine and whimper in his sleep. Your eyebrows furrow together. You wonder what kind of nightmare he was having now. You wake him up by carefully shaking his shoulder and kissing his lips. His eyes go wide as he initially wakes up but soften when he sees you. His arm slithers around your waist and settles on your back, pushing you in closer to him.

“Mmm,” he sleepily groans. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I really, really do.”

“I know.”

A small smile spreads across his face and you close your eyes, curling up into the warmth of his chest. Whatever happened today, you are sure that he will probably talk about it tomorrow with you. Until then, you revel in this silence and peace. This afterglow. You both drift to sleep, knowing that you are both protected and so loved by one another.

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imsofuckinggayforwomen · 10 months

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an idea for obanai smut! - obanai gets jealous from seeing you spending a lot of time with giyuu recently, even tho obanai has told you he doesn’t like giyuu at all. So, obanai decides to teach y/n a little lesson 😋

a fic would be nice if you have enough time! ❤️

ONG OBANAI JEALOUS….ABSOLUTELY.

this probably won’t be a fic but prolly just a long drabble

WARNING: SMUT NSFW (MINORS GEEEETTT OUT), fem reader, publicity sorta, very mean obanai, some degrading, crying

Obanai Iguro…Jealous? 🤷

You know that he despises giyu, he knows that you know too. Of course, you continue to converse with the water pillar daily, making your masked boyfriend frustrated.

The way Obanai looks when he’s jealous, ears tipped red, big heaved breaths. Who could blame you for teasing when he gets so flustered?

That’s how you found yourself trapped, pressed up against the back wall of the ubuyashki estate.

“I-Iguro- were in publ-“ A rough hand pressing against your throat quickly silences you, finding yourself looking up at serpent hashira with wide eyes.

“You don’t deserve to call me by my first name” He spits, taking his opposite hand to undo the bandages that adorned his face. “In fact, you don’t even deserve my touch.”

With that, his bandages were harshly thrown to the side. You start to tremble in his hold, sensing the inner rage that flowed through his different colored irises. You pout, taking a gentle hold onto the hand that grips your throat. “Please- Iguro-“

Before you can even finish speaking, his lips are pressed against yours. The kiss is brutal, leaving you barely any room to breathe. You manage to gasp, only giving him more room to shove his tongue into your mouth. Obanai slots a leg in between your thighs, teasingly spreading them as his teeth drag against your lips.

A whimper escapes you as he lowers his mouth to bite marks into the soft skin of your neck. “It’s Obanai, to you.” He grumbles into your shoulder, promptly moving to remove your blouse. “I’ll allow you to call me Iguro once I’m satisfied.”

Once your top is open and your skin is exposed, he allows himself to take in your disheveled state. His hand then abruptly cups your core, a yelp of surprise leaving your throat. Iguro’s eyes peer up at you, his hand pressing harder into your crotch. You try to swallow the noise threatening to escape, but the sudden feeling of your skirt being torn causes you to wince.

“Those noises satisfy me” He whispers, dipping his head down to bite at your collarbone. “Make more of them.”

That’s the only warning you received before his hand plunged into your undergarment, expertly rubbing through your folds. You whine at the feeling, hips bucking forward to meet his touch.

You’re already so wet, it’s almost embarrassing.

He seems amused by this, indulging you in your desperation by bringing his nimble finger to swipe across your clit.

A hand races to cover your mouth as his contact makes your spine arch. Obanai is displeased by this, grabbing your arm with his free one and pinning it above the two of you.

“Are you deaf? Did you not hear what I just said?” He asks retorted, fingers swiping against your clit again to draw out a high pitched moan from your mouth. He relished in the noise, smiling into the skin of your neck.

His fingers swipe again, and again, and again, until their motions became a pattern. A series of whiney noises left your blissed out self, only further fueling Obanai in his antics. He resumed placing kisses onto your upper body, sucking and biting marks into certain places.

You continue to squirm in his hold, the pleasure slowly building up in your heat. This almost felt like a reward, maybe Obanai enjoyed being teased? You can see the heavy blush set on his face, this theory certainly needed to be tested later on…

You were unaware of your silence until you felt his fingers increasing the pressure on your sensitive bud. Crying out, your legs threaten to buckle. Iguro unpins your arms, moving to keep you upright instead. Tears began to well in your eyes at the harsh stimulation.

His eyes lock onto your glossy ones, a slight smirk settling onto his scarred face. Moving his head up to be level with yours, he gently kisses the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love it when you cry like that.” He mutters, just enough for you to hear. Lucky for him, the tears kept coming and your whimpers grew in volume.

A fuzzy feeling starts to grow in your core, gradually building in intensity. Your thighs shake with fervor and your head falls back. Obanai kisses up your neck again, eyeing your expression. He senses that you are reaching your peak, your quick pants only confirming his sense.

“Say my name” he says to you, slotting his head onto your shoulder. “My first name, say it as you cum on my fingers”

“Iguro!” You cry out, the pleasure in your body reaching its peak. “IguroIguroIguroIguro-“

A broken sob escapes your throat as you release onto him, entire body shaking with bliss. He brings you through it, guiding your body to the end of it’s high.

You finally catch your breath as he pulls his fingers away from you. Maintaining eye contact, Iguro sucks his fingers clean. “You seem quite satisfied..” he says, fingers exiting his mouth with a pop.

“However, I am not.” He grumbles, swiftly throwing you over his shoulder. “Hey- Iguro-!!” You Yelp as he begins to carry you away. Obanai chuckles as you wriggle around in his arms, gently patting your behind with his hand.

“You’re in for the real punishment once we get back to the estate.”

this was pretty fun to write I love obanai sm

Also pretend like kabumaru was at a play date or something cause we do not want dawg watching this 💀

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modelbus · 2 years

Text

Face ID

MCYT's included: (all CC!) Dream, Wilbur, Tommy, Sapnap, George, Ranboo

Having face ID in their phones

Dream

He actually suggested to you that you could be his alternate face ID, and you had thought he was joking. He wasn't.

He was really casual about it too.

You had grabbed his phone for something when he brought it up, so you did it immediately when he asked.

"If you want, you can put yourself as the alternate face ID. It'll save you time." "Are you sure?" "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

After that you definitely get asked to do stuff on his phone for him all the time. He's just a little lazy, okay?

More often than not you'd be the one replying to his messages for him, to the point where all his contacts recognized your different typing style.

Wilbur

He's just a little nervous to ask but does so anyways. When you say you'd be honored to be his alternate, he smiles so big.

"What do you think about being the alternate on my face ID? So you can unlock it?" "I'd be honored, Wil."

Unlike Dream he doesn't use you, but he's so bad at replying to messages that you do it for him (with permission).

You also fix his mess of a calendar, because come on.

His phone background was of you two always, but the photo changed, and you always loved to see the new one.

He 100% only changes it to watch your reaction though.

Tommy

You don't even know when your face was put into his phone, but you have a suspicion that he did it when you were sleeping once.

He asked you to do something on his phone for him quickly, hiding his evil grin, and waited for you to notice his home background.

"What the fuck is that?!" "That is the greatest thing ever created." "Is your background seriously sexy Shrek?!"

It turns into a game of his to have you open his phone only to reveal a new horror of a background.

Sometimes he will genuinely ask you to do something for him though, so you never quite know if he's trying to scare you or not.

As retribution you sometimes post tweets from his Twitter.

No matter how many times you remove yourself from his face ID as to end your suffering, you always end up on there again.

Sapnap

This man doesn't even give you a chance to say no. He's just instructing you to put your face in as his ID and leaving zero room for argument.

The sight you're greeted with fills you with absolute disgust though, so it quickly becomes a habit of yours to help him clean his phone.

Seriously, 23 mobile games?

"Do you even play Candy Crush?" "Candy what?" "...Right, deleting that one. What about Merge Mansion?"

He's another one you use your power to post tweets. They're mostly harmless jokes that the fanbase loves though.

Sapnap doesn't care what you do with his phone as long as you don't unpin Dream from his pinned messages. Apparently it's some sort of bromance thing.

George

Dream is the one who gives him the idea when the entire Dream Team is on a discord call. He was talking about how Sapnap is his alternate when George turns to you.

"You could be my alternate. I don't care."

It was so obvious he did care, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. In the end your face gets added.

He slowly starts asking you to do stuff for him when you're closer to his phone than he is until you're able to grab his phone and check the time without either of you batting an eye.

His phone is so sparse and neatly organized, but you kind of like it. Either way you still screenshot it and send them to yourself to post on Twitter later.

There is no touching his social medias, absolutely not. His phone is very important and private to him, so it's a big deal you have access to it in the first place.

Ranboo

War.

You both steal each other's phones and add yourselves just to have access for a social media prank war. His height definitely aids him which is very unfair.

After the war ends neither of you remove each other, so occasionally you post tweets just to watch the fandom explode, which you both find hilarious.

"Did you see what you tweeted last night?" "Did you see what you tweeted?" "...Uh oh."

Then there's the background war of which you compete to find each other the best background of each other you possibly can, which goes absolutely horribly.

If you aren't using each other's phones for war, you're really just checking the Dream SMP discord or something basic like that.

He feels too bad asking you to do stuff for him on his phone despite the fact that you assure him you don't care.

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lau219 · 2 months

Text

Why Deny?

•• Leonard Miller x Female Reader ••

Announcement: I will only be putting up this initial warning for this story, as I personally feel that warnings at the beginning of every chapter takes away from the reading experience and also can be somewhat of a spoiler. I’m sorry if you don’t agree, but that’s how I’m doing it. Read at your own risk. This story will have:

!!!Mentions of guns and other weapons, violence, fighting, blood, injury, implied harm, sexually mature content and some other mentions that one might be sensitive to. 18+ readers only. You are responsible for what you read!!!

—————————————————

Part 1

…………………………………………………………………………….

The sound of her final shot rang out through the large room as she unfurrowed her brow and then lowered the gun. Looking out ahead to the silhouette on the target paper, she puckered her lips, evaluating her work before removing the protective earmuffs from her head.

She pressed the button on the wall to bring the paper down the track and back to her, and she let out a frustrated exhale as she saw that she still had a bit of work to go before she recaptured the expert aim she used to have.

“You want another sheet, Y/N?” the attendant in the booth asked her through the intercom.

“No thanks, Jack,” she replied. “That was my last one for today. My shoulder’s had enough.”

When the paper arrived at the end of the track in front of her, she reached up and unpinned the target, looking over it again silently. She then released another audible exhale as she simultaneously rolled her aching shoulder.

“Mediocre at best,” came his unmistakable voice from behind her.

Lifting her head, she shifted on her feet and hung the paper over the railing before turning around to face him. He stood in the entryway to the range, leaning against the doorframe of the glass wall with his hands in his pockets and an expression of cocky judgement on his face. When she met his eyes, she felt the all too familiar feeling she got whenever she saw him – an unsettling mix of annoyance, amusement, and arousal.

“Are you referring to my aim, or are you telling me what your date was thinking about you last night when you dropped her back off at her place?” she replied, raising her eyebrow at him.

“Ouch,” he said to her, smirking in amusement before pushing himself off the wall.

As he walked towards her, she couldn’t help but think how immaculate he looked in the dark blue suit that could have been custom made just for him. He was so Goddamn sexy, and she mentally smacked herself upside the head for allowing herself to even acknowledge it. Shifting on her feet again, she put her hands on her hips as he stopped in front of her. He reached out and lifted the target paper off the railing she’d laid it over.

“You’ve got a ways to go yet,” he said, holding the paper and looking over her markings.

“Yes, I’m aware, Miller. Thank you,” she said sarcastically.

“I’d think you’d be further along by now,” he continued. “What’s it been? Six weeks?”

“Five,” she responded, folding her arms across her chest.

He lifted his eyes and looked at her over the paper. He then shifted his gaze to the floor, noticing her bare stocking feet and the black heels she’d discarded to the side next to the wall. Briefly, he let his eyes hungrily trail her legs, all the way up to the hem of her slim pencil skirt.

Did she wear pantyhose or thigh-highs? he wondered. He could easily slide his hands up that skirt and find out.

“Pretty sure shoes are a requirement when they test you, doll,” he said, nodding down to her heels before looking back up at her.

She looked down as well, scrunching her toes on the squishy rubber matting beneath them.

“Yeah, well, when they test me, it’ll be on more solid ground. In heels, this floor is like quicksand.” She looked at him again and tilted her head mockingly. “You gonna write me up for being barefoot in here?”

He grinned.

“Quite the contrary. My only complaint is that you stopped at the shoes.” He took a step closer and then held the target sheet out to her. “How about you take something else off and then try your aim again?”

His words simultaneously annoyed her and turned her on.

“You first,” she said to him as she shoved the paper into his chest.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied.

He let the sheet fall to the floor and reached for his waistband, pretending to undo his belt as he gave her a devilish smirk. Looking at him, she simply rolled her eyes and shook her head before turning around and bending down to retrieve her shoes. When she stood back up and faced him, he was watching her, standing with his hands in his pockets again.

“What time should I be at your office tomorrow?” she asked him, trying to ignore the skip of her heart that his gaze caused her as she met his eyes once more.

He furrowed his brow, playing dumb.

“What are you talking about?” he said.

“Cut the shit,” she responded. “I know they gave you several of my assignments while I was out. I want them back. I’ll pick up wherever you left off.”

“And what if I don’t feel like giving them back?” he asked her in a slightly taunting tone.

She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at him.

“You probably haven’t even looked at any of it yet,” she said. “Just give them back to me.”

“Well, that’s the nice thing about seniority,” he responded. “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”

She narrowed her eyes again and blew out a frustrated breath as he looked back at her with a cocky smile.

He always loved to hold that over her head. He wasn’t exactly her boss, in that he didn’t have the power to fire her without approval, but he had a seniority that meant he could pretty much do anything else he wanted, including deciding what passed over her desk. Sometimes, they worked together, but he also did his fair share of keeping stuff for himself, and at the end of the day, he got to call the shots.

Stepping away from the railing, she intentionally bumped into him as she walked past him and headed out the door. She heard him chuckle behind her before he turned around and followed, soon falling into step with her as she headed down the hall.

“You can give them to me after we meet with Benton,” she said to him as they walked. “Obviously, you got the message from him about wanting to see us in his office tomorrow?”

“I did,” he confirmed.

“What’s it about?”

“I don’t know.”

She stopped and turned to face him.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “You mean the all-powerful, all-knowing Agent Leonard Miller doesn’t know something?!” She lifted a hand to her cheek and opened her mouth in feigned surprise. “I’m shocked.”

He smirked at her before he responded.

“It can’t be that important if he’s squeezing us in between lunch and his tee time, but it’s nice to know how highly you think of me.”

She rolled her eyes again and resumed walking.

“I’m assuming it’s regarding my re-entry and the date of my test. But currently, I’m still only cleared for paperwork. So, you’re gonna have to give me those case files back so that I have something to do. I’ve already gotten through everything else.”

Unbeknownst to her, he already knew when they were going to test her. She had another week and a half to prepare, and then, if she passed, she’d be clear to resume field work. If not, she’d be stuck with a desk job for the next 6 months until she could test again.

He had almost no doubt that she’d pass; the whole thing was just a formality after her injury. His only concern was her aim, which she still seemed to be struggling to correct since her shoulder had healed. By no means was she off by much, but they were going to compare her shots to her pre-injury accuracy. If it wasn’t an acceptable comparison, she wouldn’t cut it. And even though she rarely actually needed to use a gun, they were nevertheless rigid on the testing, and it was one of the few things he couldn’t pull any strings on. She either could do it, or she couldn’t.

“I’ll consider giving them to you,” he said as they rounded the corner, “once I know that you’re up to speed enough to take them off my hands. I’ll need to fill you in on all of it.”

“Fine, whatever,” she shook her head in exasperation. “When?”

“Over dinner tonight. How’s 7 o’clock sound?”

Stopping once more, she faced him again and tilted her head.

“Seriously?” she said in disbelief.

“Ok, fine,” he replied, looking at her. “7:30.”

“Miller...”

She shook her head again. She should have expected this. It’d been a while since he’d tried to get her to agree to a date with him, but he had never let it go, no matter how many times she turned him down. Not to say she wasn’t tempted. Very tempted.

In the two years that they’d been working together, there’d always been something between them. It was a potent combination of mutual attraction and mutual respect disguised with sarcastic banter. He loved to flex his authority, and she challenged him every chance she got. Truthfully, they each had a high level of regard for the other, but his ego and her sass also lead to plenty of tension. There’d been a few close calls between them in the past, during a late night in his office or a work party that went on a little too long, but she’d never allowed herself to cross that line. She wouldn’t get involved with a colleague, most of all him – it would just be too messy.

“Strictly business,” he continued. “I pick you up, we eat, we go over the cases, I take you back home. If you happen to end up in my lap at some point within there, then so be it.”

Butterflies danced in her stomach at the image he’d just planted in her mind, but outwardly, she kept her composure.

“I’m busy,” she said to him.

“Tomorrow night then.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She sighed and folded her arms across her chest.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not going to date you, Leonard.”

“Fine,” he said, “just sex then. I’ll take whatever I can get.”

When she scoffed at him and made to turn away, he stepped closer to her and grasped her forearm.

“Come on, doll,” he said to her, his voice a bit softer. “You and I both know we’d be great together. Why do you keep denying it?”

She felt her skin heating under his hand. Standing this close, it was almost impossible to resist him as his cologne filled her senses and his eyes searched hers for permission.

“We’ve already had this conversation,” she said to him, stepping back. “I don’t get involved with colleagues.”

He smirked.

“Easy solution — think of me as something else,” he said.

“Oh, I do,” she replied with a smirk of her own. “But they’re not very nice thoughts, Mr. Arrogant.”

With that, she started walking again, leaving him standing and looking after her. She turned around when she was almost to the end of the hall.

“I’ll see you tomorrow with those case files,” she called to him. “Alphabetize them for me, would you?”

Then she took another step and disappeared through the door.

Part 2

@nyxxie-pooh @fuseburner @hannibellector @febris-amatoria @neonpurplestars89-blog

#leonard miller #leonard miller smut #Leonard miller x female reader #cillian murphy #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian smut #18+ only

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

The Deployment Diaries Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You've been putting all of your energy into helping Bradley recover, but sometimes you need his help even more.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff and swearing

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!

The following week, you came home late from work, and walked into the bedroom to find Bradley laying in bed reading with Tramp's head on his stomach.

"Hey, Sweetheart. How was your day?"

You huffed and started removing your uniform, piece by piece, unpinning everything from your shirt. "Shitty, thanks for asking. And it's late, and I'm starving, and you could have at least started dinner, you know?"

Bradley froze. He knew you were going to be late, because you had texted him. He grabbed his phone as he sat up, the muscles around his ribs still pulling a bit as he did so.

You stormed around the room, changing into some shorts as he opened his message thread with you. "My text never sent to you. I already took care of dinner, Baby Girl. I ordered from that place with the spicy chicken you like. Figured you deserve something better than whatever I would make without supervision. Should be here soon."

You paused and looked at him as you pulled on a shirt. "Oh. Okay. Well thanks."

The doorbell rang, and Bradley brought the food into the dining room. You settled into your seat with your plate of dinner, and Bradley brought you one of the many bottles of hot sauce just in case. When he sat down and you started eating, he patted his thigh.

You looked like you were going to tell him no, but you stood and slid into his lap with your plate of food.

"That's better," he whispered, kissing your cheek.

"I'm sorry I was short with you, Roo. I am exhausted, and I have to give a presentation to a bunch of admirals from Lemoore tomorrow. It's for funding our research, and I barely have any time to prepare."

"I can help you," he promised as he ate. "After dinner, why don't you relax in the bath while I clean up, and then I'll help you the rest of the night until you feel ready."

"Yeah. Okay," you agreed. And an hour later, you were wearing his UVA shirt with a pair of his underwear, your hair in a bun on top of your head, and pacing slowly around the living room.

"Our projections for upgraded safety protocols show a twenty seven percent improvement in the ability of the Super Hornet pilot to communicate with the tower. This is not insignificant, based on the last several updates. That information is provided on page thirty of the handout, and you can see that the-"

Bradley put his hand up to interrupt. "It's actually on page thirty one, Sweetheart."

"Shit," you muttered, standing with your hands on your hips. "I knew that."

"Of course you knew that, but you seem very nervous."

You threw your hands up in the air. "Of course I'm nervous, Bradley! The entire purpose of this is to get more funding to keep you safe!"

He smiled at you. "I love you, but you've got to remove me from this equation while you're doing the presentation. Don't think about me or Nat or Jake. Just think about some random pilot in Lemoore that you're trying to make sure has updated software. Okay?"

You sighed and stretched your arms, getting yourself ready to start over again. And when you did, your presentation went much better. You ran through it two more times flawlessly, and Bradley pulled you down to his lap. "That was perfect, Sweetheart. You'll knock them flat on their asses with your well researched information that I can barely understand."

You laughed as he stood with you in his arms. "You shouldn't be lifting me yet!" you screeched, scrambling out of his grasp. "That's naughty! I'll tell your doctor!"

Bradley laughed and led you to the bedroom. "Let's practice your presentation once more, but this time I'll make it fun for you. And then you'll be relaxed for tomorrow."

He undressed you slowly, running his thumbs along the undersides of your breasts before stripping off his own clothing and laying back against the pillows. "Climb up here, Baby Girl, and get to work," he rasped, rubbing his thigh right next to his hard dick.

You moaned as you crawled up the bed, kissing the spot he had been rubbing before getting into position and sinking down around his length. You moaned a little bit, and Bradley gently smacked your ass as he said, "Go ahead and get started, Lieutenant."

"Our projections for upgraded safety protocols show... oh God, Roo!" you whined as he pumped up into you.

But then he froze when you got off course. "Keep going, Lieutenant. You keep going and then I'll keep going." Bradley watched you bite your lip and try to fight for control.

"Okay, okay," you groaned. "Show a twenty seven percent improvement in the ability of the Super Hornet pilot to communicate with the tower. Oh God, you feel so good."

Bradley chuckled. "Is that part of the presentation?"

"It is now," you whined, because he had stopped thrusting again. You tried to bounce on him a bit, but he grabbed your hips and stilled your movement. You whimpered, but he just shook his head.

"Um, this information is not insignificant," you moaned in pleasure as he started moving again. "It's based on research that is provided for you on page thirty one of the handout."

You tossed your head back as Bradley fucked up into you harder and harder. His ribs were aching now, but he didn't want to stop.

"You're doing so well, Lieutenant. Keep going."

"The models are based on calculations that we have been collecting for the past year, and I am fucking awesome, thanks for listening to my presentation," you said, your voice getting louder as Bradley laughed and flipped you onto your back.

"The admirals are going to love that closing statement," he grunted, putting both of your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your thighs. He kissed your legs as he pushed himself inside you once more.

You giggled until Bradley pushed your knees back to your shoulders and slammed into you. He was practically folding you in half.

"Roo!" you moaned, but he fucked you at a steady pace that soon had you whining and crying out. He loved it when he got you like this; you were unable to even form real words as his skin slapped against yours.

"Baby Girl, you're so sweet," he told you as he fucked you harder until you were gasping for air, his weight pushing down on you. You grabbed his hair and pulled him down to kiss you as you came, moaning against his mouth.

"Your presentation is going to be so good. I wish I could watch you in action," he told you, still chasing his own finish.

"If you're a good boy, maybe I'll practice it one more time wearing one of my calendar outfits."

"Fuck. Yes." Bradley chanted as he came inside you.

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

Your presentation went well enough that your lab was granted a huge amount of money to continue with research. Commander Bickel took you and your colleagues out for the fanciest lunch you had ever eaten in your life, and you were keeping your fingers crossed that you'd see a promotion soon as well.

Bradley had been celebrating with you for the last few days, even opening a bottle of champagne one evening.

He finally got most of the remaining stitches removed, and his face was looking mostly bruise free by this point. "I'm starting to look okay again," he remarked, looking in the bathroom mirror as you both got ready for a night at the Hard Deck.

You rolled your eyes. "Seriously, Roo. You looked handsome to me even with the bruising. If you looked any better right now, I wouldn't be able to take you out in public. Can't wait to see how many times you get hit on tonight," you said sarcastically.

Bradley chuckled as he buttoned his shirt. "You know, you're one to talk, Sweetheart. You get cornered in conversation with some random guy every time we go to the bar."

"It's usually one of my coworkers!"

Bradley gave you a bland look. "That guy who was trying to get you to meet him in the parking lot to check out his Harley? That was one of your coworkers?"

It took you a second to recall what he was talking about, but then you doubled over laughing as you were trying to finish your makeup. "No, that guy was just very, very drunk."

"Yeah, well. I rest my case."

The Hard Deck was packed by the time you and Bradley arrived, and you were once again thankful that the aviators seemed to have their own little area.

"Rooster, you look great!" Phoenix said, pulling him into a hug. She handed him her brand new bottle of beer, saying, "I can go get another. Have this one."

You butted in. "Just one drink! He's still on medication!" But he was already taking a sip and winking at you. "I'm serious, Bradley. Just one."

"Okay, Baby Girl," he told you before he kissed you on the forehead.

You followed Nat up to the bar to get yourself a drink too, and you both ended up chatting with Coyote who had finally returned from deployment. His had been much longer than Bradley's but far less action packed. You must have been up there for a while, because when you returned to the pool table, Bradley was cracking up at something Bob was saying, and he had a glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand.

"Who got him another drink?" you asked accusingly. You instantly knew it was Jake by the way he wouldn't meet your eyes.

"Seriously?" you asked, stopping an inch in front of him. "He's taking a prescription for his injuries! The last thing I need is a sloppy Rooster. Are you going to come take care of him in the middle of the night when he's a fucking wreck and like singing show tunes at the piano or something?!"

Jake burst out laughing. "We tried to tell you the piano was a bad idea, Angel. Plus this is fair retaliation for what you two made me walk in on in the rec room!"

You just cradled your face in your hand. You should have known you'd be hearing about that again. "I told you guys, one drink! No more!"

"That's only his third. He'll be fine. He's just playing pool. Here, throw some darts with me."

You turned your back for a few minutes, just long enough to lose to Jake. Then when you went to check on your boyfriend, you found him with another half empty beer bottle in his hand. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were a little unfocused as he sipped the drink.

"Hey, Baby Girl! You're so pretty, come here." He finished the beer and reached out with grabby hands.

"Oh, Lord," you muttered as he grabbed your waist and pulled you against him.

"I love you, you're so pretty. I could look at you all day long." Bradley's words were a little slurred, and his smile was so goofy. You had to grab his hands and put them at his sides when he started reaching for the bottom of your shirt.

He started kissing your neck and pulled his hands free to play with your hair as Payback said, "It's not even eleven o'clock yet. How much did he drink?"

"Too much, apparently," you replied, trying to get Bradley to sit on the empty stool next to Fanboy. "This is why I tried to tell you guys he could only have one drink. I just knew he would get like this."

Bradley stumbled into the seat and unbuttoned his Hawaiian shirt. "Hot in here," he mumbled, handing the shirt to you. "Thanks, Sweetheart."

You slipped his shirt on over your tee so you wouldn't lose it, because you were pretty sure it was one that had belonged to his dad, and then you just shrugged helplessly at him sitting there in his tank. "What am I going to do with you now, Bradley?"

"You're gonna love me," he told you with a grin.

"It was a rhetorical question," you muttered. "Stay here. I'm going to get him some water," you told Fanboy who nodded before offering some pool tips to Bob.

You turned to check on Bradley from the bar, and at least he was right where you left him. But the bar was crowded, and it seemed like everyone you knew was trying to chat with you. By the time you had a glass of water and were on your way back to the pool table, he was practically shirtless with another woman chatting him up, and he was giving her puppy eyes.

"Jesus, maybe I should just let her deal with him," you muttered to Phoenix who looked like she was ready to fight someone if needed.

"You've just gotta meet my girlfriend. Her name is Sweetheart and she's so pretty," he rambled to the other girl. "That's her!" Bradley announced when he saw you.

"Um, hi," the other woman muttered. "Sorry," she added before swiftly making her exit.

"That woman asked for my phone number," he said, reaching for you again. "I told her no."

You sighed. "Fanboy! I asked you to watch him for like five minutes!"

"Sorry! Hey, you wanna play pool with me?" Fanboy asked, handing you a pool cue.

"No, I'm trying to get this one to drink some freaking water!"

Bradley downed the entire glass of water when you pressed it to his lips. "I love you," he said loudly. "I'm going to take care of you forever. That's all I wanna do. Love you and take care of you. And fuck you."

"Shhh," you scolded, taking the glass before he could drop it. "That's enough, Roo."

Fanboy, Bob and Jake stopped playing pool to shake their heads and laugh. "I am so sorry I let him have that bourbon, Angel," Jake told you with a rotten grin on his face.

You tried to keep Bradley from pawing at you, but it wasn't working. "Aww, Sweetheart. I'll take such good care of you, like I always do."

"Okay, Bradley. How about you try to stand up," you said trying to coax him to his feet, but he just went rambling on as he stood.

He kissed your lips and cupped your cheeks with both hands. His eyes were so loving and sincere as he told you quite loudly, "I'm gonna put a baby in you, Sweetheart. I'm gonna get you so pregnant. Fuck you every day when you stop taking the pill."

"Someone please kill me," you mumbled, trying to put your hand over his mouth as the guys all started hooting.

"Oh my God," muttered Phoenix, silently gagging and dropping her pool cue.

"I almost did it already, and we weren't even trying," he added, pulling your hands away from his face. "But I'd love to keep trying. Give you a ring first, so you know I'm serious." He was grabbing you by the waist again, and now Payback was catcalling you both.

"Bradley, my love?" you asked him, and his eyes met yours in trustworthy affection. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to leave you here for the night."

"Let's go home and get in bed," he murmured against your neck.

You looked to your left and saw Jake and Bob. "You and you, help me get him to the car. Now."

You watched the guys hoist your boyfriend into the front seat of the Bronco while he told them in some detail about how many kids he hoped to have with you. Once he was buckled in and the door was closed, Jake mussed up your hair and laughed hysterically.

"Oh, Angel. You have the patience of a saint."

Payback was trying not to laugh before he burst into giggles. "Twelve kids, huh?"

You groaned and walked to the driver's side, saying, "Thanks a lot guys," over your shoulder.

You started the engine and Bradley gazed at you longingly.

"If you throw up in here, it's your own fault. I told you one drink!"

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

Bradley woke up with a throbbing headache. He wanted to open his eyes, but his body was telling him he would throw up if he did, so he just opened them a crack.

"What the hell?" He could barely move. It seemed like he had slept all night on the bathroom floor. Although he was wrapped in a blanket and resting on a pillow, he could feel the cold, hard floor tiles digging into his shoulder and hip.

He tried to sit up, but immediately flopped back down onto the pillow. His ribs were aching. How did he have a hangover? What did he do last night?

"Oh, good. You're awake."

He could hear you, but he didn't want to open his eyes again.

"Sweetheart? What happened?"

You laughed sardonically, and Bradley felt you step over his body to get to the sink vanity.

"I told you not to have more than one drink, but you didn't listen to me. And I'm so mad at Jake for buying you bourbon."

Bradley sat up gingerly and opened his eyes. "Why did I sleep in here?"

You shook your head at him. "Because you barely made it to the toilet before you started throwing up. And then you held Tramp up to your face and told him, and I quote, 'Let me sleep in the bathroom so my wife doesn't get mad' end quote."

Bradley opened his mouth to speak, but he just sat on the floor staring up at you.

"So, you are either already married, or you are under the impression that you've married me or Tramp."

Then he started to remember the previous night at the Hard Deck. Talking about making babies and engagement rings. He was panicking, suddenly convinced he had asked you to marry him while cross-faded on bourbon and pain killers.

"I can tell by the look on your face that you're remembering some of what you said at the bar."

Bradley met your eyes and whispered, "Yes. Oh my god, how badly did I embarrass you?"

Your face broke out into a smile as you knelt on the floor next to him and kissed his cheek. "I'm not embarrassed, but maybe you should be. You told the guys you want to pump me full of babies! I thought Phoenix was going to cry!"

Bradley groaned and kissed your neck. "I'm not embarrassed about that, Baby Girl. I'd tell you that shit sober. I'd say it in front of the guys, too."

"I know you would," you whispered, running the tip of your nose along his scarred cheek. "Come on. I need you to get up and make sure your dress whites fit for your promotion banquet later this week."

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

Bradley got undressed to try on his uniform while you were making dinner. After drinking about a gallon of water plus a few cups of coffee, his head was throbbing much less. As he walked in front of the full length mirror, he paused to examine himself. He'd been avoiding his own reflection as frequently as possible since he came home injured, and this was exactly why.

His left arm was absolutely covered in random pink scars. They would probably fade over time, just as the ones on his face and neck had, but these ones looked fresh and angry. He ran his right hand over the uneven skin and grimaced. Because on top of the scars, he had lost a lot of his muscle definition.

Gone were his abs, only to be replaced by a little bit of pudge around his midsection. His biceps were nowhere near the size they had been, and now his shoulders looked lacking as well. Just a few short weeks of being banned from physical activity to help him heal, and now he would be spending months getting back to where he had been.

Sighing, he pulled out his uniform and started to dress. The shirt wasn't as tight across his chest as it used to be. The jacket and pants were a little loose as well. "Shit," he mumbled as he buttoned the jacket and looked in the mirror straight on.

You were literally a goddess, the most charming and lovely woman he had ever met. All you had to do was look at Bradley, and he was ready to take you to bed. Your body was perfection, all smooth skin and gorgeous features. He could look at you all day and never tire of the view. You deserved the best of everything in his mind. But he was so flawed, and now it was even worse.

"Dinner is just about ready, Roo... oh, my god!" You stopped in the doorway and stared at him. You were so pretty, your hair down, framing your face, wearing one of his shirts and his gym shorts.

"What's wrong?" he asked, shifting nervously. "Is the fit noticeably bad?" He looked down at his uniform and then back at you.

You slowly shook your head. "You look so good," you whispered in a dreamy voice that made him shiver.

Somehow you always made him feel sexy. He knew there was something about him that women liked. He got hit on occasionally at the Hard Deck, and he'd never had a hard time finding women who wanted to fuck him. But you always seemed to make him feel like he almost perhaps deserved you.

"Well, I guess I look better in the uniform than out of it now," he remarked, checking himself in the mirror again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked him barely above a whisper as you walked over to him and ran your hands up and down his white uniform sleeves.

Bradley watched you chew on your bottom lip as he said, "Just, you know... my arm looks totally fucked, and I no longer have abs."

"I'm sorry, I'm having a hard time understanding what you're saying right now," you whispered. "Are you trying to tell me my boyfriend isn't gorgeous?"

Bradley opened his mouth to speak, but you were already inside his jacket and working on the buttons of his shirt. Your lips met his neck in an open mouthed kiss that ended in a moan, and your fingers were now rubbing his chest hair.

"Um, I can't remember what I was about to say," he groaned as your hand trailed to the front of his white pants.

"You're hot, Bradley," you told him, licking his neck scar. "And you always will be."

"I'm glad you think so, Baby Girl," he whispered as you got your hand inside his pants.

You finished undressing him, and it felt so fucking natural. You had already seen his arm with the stitches removed, and you'd seen his soft middle. Maybe it wasn't all as bad as he imagined?

"You're hot. And I'm far from the only one who thinks so. You literally got hit on last night in your tank," you told him as you lowered his pants. Bradley had no recollection of that, but he supposed it must have happened if you said it did.

"Besides, you told me last night at the bar that all you want to do is love me and take care of me," you told him as you draped his dress whites over the dresser and guided him to bed. "Sure, you were wasted at the time, but that's all I want to do for you, too."

Bradley let you run your fingers down his left arm, and you left a trail of kisses there as well. "Looks ugly," he mumbled.

"You're perfect, Roo. And I know you wouldn't complain if I had scars."

"Fuck no, I wouldn't care, Sweetheart," Bradley said, and then smirked as you pushed him down on his back on the bed. "You kind of tricked me into agreeing with you."

"Yes, I did, because I'm right," you said with a grin. "I love your body all the time, especially right now, because you came back home to me."

Bradley pulled you down on top of him with a bubble of laughter. "Fine. I look good. We'll be the hottest couple at the promotion ceremony."

"You're damn right we will be!" you agreed. Bradley worked his hands into the back of the waistband of the shorts and guided them down your hips. He watched you wiggle out of your underwear before you settled against him, straddling his midsection. He groaned and tossed his head back against the pillows while you rubbed your pussy along the scant trail of hair below his belly button. "So hot," you moaned, and Bradley looked up to see the wetness you were leaving on his skin.

"Fuck, fuck!" he gasped, his hands were on your hips, guiding you to grind harder against him. He watched you pull his tee shirt off followed by your bra. "So fucking pretty."

You leaned down to kiss his lips, muttering, "So are you," as you rubbed yourself all over him. When you finally guided him inside you, whining as you took his length, Bradley was seeing stars.

You rode him so well, one hand grabbing his left arm, and the other planted gently on his belly where he was still slick with your wetness. Bradley watched your hungry gaze on his body as you got off on his dick, and of course he was right there with you.

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

Thanks for reading! Next up is Bradley's promotion ceremony. Just three chapters left in this series!

PART 23

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bazzybelle · 6 months

Text

Good Omens 2 and Wayward Son - A Fan's Commentary on Fandom Reactions

I’m going to start off by saying apologies for any obvious grammatical errors. I am writing purely from the heart here.

Also, apologies to my Sandman friends. If you haven’t read The Simon Snow Trilogy, this will go over your heads. However, I have been going back and forth on writing this meta since the release of Good Omens 2, and I just finished reading a spectacular meta on queer ships becoming canon by @avelera, which you can find here (read it, it’s brilliant). Anyway, I feel now’s a good time to let out all of my feelings when it comes to Good Omens 2 and how similar it was to reading Wayward Son.

Simon Snow friends, you all know that Wayward Son is my favourite book out of the trilogy. You also know that this can be considered a controversial take within the fandom. And I don’t mean that in a toxic way, this fandom is one of the more wholesome fandoms I’ve seen; But in the way of like… Wayward Son is itself a polarizing book.

I say this, knowing full well what went down when Wayward Son was released. Perhaps I had the advantage of not being completely embroiled within the Simon Snow fandom until after I’d finished reading the book, but I lived on the periphery. I followed Rainbow on Twitter (fuck you, I am not calling it X), I had saved some artwork on Pinterest (before I found out those were stolen, wherein I immediately unpinned them and deleted my fandom folders), and I was excited to get Wayward Son as soon as it came out. So much so that I asked my husband to go to the Indigo near his office and buy it because I wanted to read it right away.

Friends, I demolished that book within a DAY.

Then I read it again. And again. And again.

Then I wrote my first fanfiction in eight years.

This book changed me. But you all know that. I’ve talked about it often, and that’s not what this meta (Editorial? Opinion piece? Shouting into the void?) is about.

What I am going to talk about is the amount of pure vitriol this book got once it was released. There was SO MUCH complaining about the book. It was too short! There was no point to it! Why aren’t Simon and Baz having sexy vampire sex? Why aren’t they living together (never mind that this was briefly discussed at the end of Carry On, but go off I guess)?

And you know what’s even funnier? Within a couple of weeks (it might have even been days, I’m a little fuzzy on timelines) Rainbow announced the third book. We knew, right away, that Wayward Son was meant to be an in-between book! Rainbow, being a fandom person herself, has said time and time again that she had always considered Wayward Son as an in-between book, structured like The Empire Strikes Back within the Star Wars original trilogy. Like think of the in-between books of any series, they are ALWAYS the darkest ones. In order to fully appreciate the win in the end, you need to go through the tough shit.

What I loved about Wayward Son was it took that idea and spun it. It went all “ok, yeah we dealt with the win, now let’s deal with the aftermath. Only then can we have the makeouts and sexy times these guys deserved.” (and damn, did Any Way The Wind Blows deliver on that promise).

But I am getting away from myself again. Point is, it was always meant to be an in-between book. There was always meant to be a resolution at the end of the trilogy. But that sure as hell didn’t stop people from outright demanding Rainbow give them the happy ending NOW. Pestering her on Twitter, (not so much on Tumblr) demanding she do this, or do that, or “you better not kill Baz” (even though she has ALWAYS SAID SHE NEVER WOULD) or “they better not break up” (even though, narratively, it was heading in that direction). The closer the book got to release date, the more people complained about how awful Wayward Son was.

It was really disheartening to see.

Which is why I got really upset when the SAME THING happened after the release of Good Omens 2.

(For clarification purposes, because several of my friends have spoken to me about their own personal issues with Good Omens 2. And you are all super fucking valid. I am strictly referring to the amount of anger I saw online because although Aziraphale and Crowley kissed, they didn’t have an immediate happily ever after. I am also speaking of the anger expressed because the season wasn’t wrapped up in a neat little bow.)

Like with the release of Wayward Son, people seemed to have forgotten that season 2 of Good Omens was meant to be an inbetween season. Neil Gaiman has not been shy to talk about that. He has said over and over again that Season 2 was always meant to be a bridge between the Good Omens he and Terry Pratchett wrote together, and the sequel they had been planning.

What… did you all just forget about that? Do you not know how narrative writing works?

It’s like people refused to take a step back and breathe for a second and appreciate the season for what it was. A beautiful romantic story (because, IT WAS! Just like Neil said it would be), as well as a lead up into what will be the epic, dramatic conclusion. No, instead people started demanding the happy ending NOW, and getting angry when Neil wouldn’t budge and offer more information (even though he never has before) (funny how people just… forgot that).

It was Wayward Son all over again.

Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I was crushed with the way Good Omens 2 left off. Just like I was so confused when Wayward Son ended out of the blue. You know what I did about that? I wrote fic, I read the book again, and I happily anticipated the upcoming final part that would tie up all the loose ends.

Know what I’m doing to heal after Good Omens 2? I’m looking at gifs, rewatching episodes, laughing at memes and crack, and hoping to all the gods of story writing that Amazon approves of a third season, so that Neil Gaiman can be allowed to finish the story he and Terry Pratchett built together.

It’s become sad to watch this feral hunger from fans demanding immediate gratification, and getting upset when it isn’t the ending or gratification they were expecting. Wayward Son came out after years of Carry On fans having nothing else but the one book. Like I said, I wasn’t part of the fandom then, so I don’t know how fans from 2015 felt upon learning they’d get more Simon and Baz. Same with Good Omens. I only really got into the fandom a few months before season 2 came out. So I don’t know how OG fans felt waiting and waiting and waiting. So maybe I have that going for me as an advantage, that my hunger wasn’t growing more and more feral.

Then again, I’m now a part of The Sandman fandom, and we’re essentially waiting on Season 2 to start development. And while I’m hoping a few things are tweaked (like Dream and Hob’s relationship), I’d be more than fine if it stays the same as in the comics. And if they decide to go about that in an entirely different way, I’d be fine with that too. You know why? Because I’ve learned to trust the writers of the stories I love not to lead me astray.

And if I’m unhappy with something –because nothing is ever 100% perfect, and even my favourite stories end up coming short– there are always fanfictions to write, gifs to laugh at, and fandom friends to discuss plots and meta with.

I may have lost the point of this meta. I tend to do that, following a train of thought that doesn’t always make sense in the end.

Fandom friends, can we all just agree to take a breath and be thankful of the stories given to us? Can we learn to appreciate the entire picture, and not just a tiny section of it? And for the love of all that is holy, can we learn to be patient and to listen when our story tellers remind us to wait and see? To trust them when they assure us that our characters will have a happy ending, even if they need to traverse a little in the dark to get there?

I sure as hell am, and I hope you will too.

Gonna tag @carryonsimoncarryonbaz because she was instrumental in encouraging me to write this.

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skyward-floored · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 5: Debris, Pinned down

Wind and Four <3 ...and some unplanned characters. This changed a bit from that one wip I posted!

Warnings: the title stuff, broken bones, and a teeny mention of blood.

Read it on ao3

————————————————————

“Anybody over here?!” Four shouted, squinting through the smoke and dust blowing through the air.

Nobody answered him, and Four kept walking through the huge piles of rubble, the tight knot of worry in his chest only growing.

The Links had been hunting down a group of monsters who’d reportedly been stealing and stockpiling bombs, for what, nobody knew. They’d traced them to an old patch of ruins, and engaged, taking out a large chunk of the group without much difficulty. But when the monsters realized they were rapidly being exterminated, they’d decided blowing them all up was the best way to stop them.

That had led to a mad dash to get out of the ruins as they’d exploded around them, but the Links had been separated while escaping, and hadn’t realized until the dust had settled.

They’d quickly split up to look for their missing members, and Four had been poking through these particular ruins for what felt like forever. His worry was growing with every minute that passed where he didn’t find anyone, and he looked nervously at a few larger piles of debris. He’d gone by several really large piles, so big that if anyone was under them he would have no idea they were there, and he’d debated trying to move them more then once.

But what good would it do? If anyone is under them, there’s no way they’d even be...

Four’s eyes suddenly caught on a distant scrap of color, and his heart jumped at the familiar shade of blue. He bolted to it, nearly tripping in the debris field between, and bent down to pick up the torn patch of cloth.

It smelled faintly of the ocean.

“Sailor?!” Four called, but heard no reply, and he continued to search around a particularly large pile of debris, listening intently for any sign of life.

He continued to call the sailor’s name, using both Wind and Link, but he had no luck until he turned a corner into a more closed-off area.

And saw a shock of blonde hair, coated in dust that shone in the sunlight.

“Wind,” Four breathed, and bolted to his side, trying not to panic at the huge pile of rocks the sailor was under. He reached down to put a hand on his only visible arm, and gave it a light shake. “Wind, can you hear me?”

A groan came from Wind, and his eyelids slowly flickered open, face twisted in pain. His expression was twisted in confusion as he looked around, and his one free hand clenched at the dirt as he obviously tried to move without thinking. Then his face went white as he bit back a cry, and Four felt his worry triple.

“Sailor, easy, stay still,” Four soothed, heart in his throat, and Wind looked blearily up at him.

“...Smithy?” the sailor whispered, letting out a cough. “Is that... you?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me,” Four replied, looking again at the large rocks covering most of Wind’s body. “Are you okay? How... how badly are you hurt?”

Wind was silent a long time, and looked to be thinking rather hard about the question.

“...I can’t move my legs,” he said quietly, voice taut with pain and barely-hidden fear. “A-at all. They’re stuck under everything, and... my arm is pretty busted up too.”

“Is there any part of you not incapacitated?” Four tried to tease, and Wind let out a laugh, though it broke into a pained cough a moment later.

“This arm, I guess,” he said tiredly, and Four swallowed, and began to feel around the stones, trying to figure out which ones, if any, were loose. But everything seemed solid and stuck, and Four looked helplessly at the rubble. There was no way he was strong enough to move any of it.

Then he squared his shoulders, and began pulling at the rocks that seemed the least load-bearing. Wind wasn’t going to get free if he just sat here, and hopefully his power bracelets would be enough to unpin him.

Wind stayed mostly silent as Four worked, sometimes letting out a quiet cough. At some point he began to hum, a quiet, rolling tune, and Four could tell it was to distract himself from the pain by the way it occasionally hitched. He hummed along once he figured it out, and tried not to despair at the absolutely tiny pile of rocks he’d managed to move.

He wasn’t making any progress.

“...Smithy?”

Four looked over at Wind, who had paused in his humming, and for some reason seemed paler then before. “Yeah, Wind?”

“I... I don’t think you can get me out by yourself,” he whispered, and Four shook his head and went back to scrabbling at the tiny, looser rocks. “You’re gonna, ha-ave to find someone… else to help.”

“I’m not going to leave you here,” Four replied sharply. He wouldn’t even entertain the possibility. Leaving Wind to go get help might have been what his logical side was telling him to do, but his emotions were horrified he was even considering it.

What if I leave, and I’m too late, and he’s all alone when he...

Four felt a touch on his leg, and looked over to see Wind giving him a pleading look, his single uncovered arm clutching at him.

“Four. I’ll be okay until you get back,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “You gotta…”

He coughed again, and Four reluctantly paused in his digging, crouching down and taking Wind’s hand in his.

“Look, Wind, I don’t… I don’t know how much longer you have,” Four admitted quietly, and Wind let out a thick chuckle.

“Long enough for y-you to get help,” Wind promised, a drop of blood falling from his lip. He met Four’s eyes, and the Smithy was struck by how much trust he saw in them. I’ll be… okay, Four. Sailors’re tough. Go.”

Four leaned back on his heels, and looked at Wind again, studying the dust in his hair, the pained twist to his expression. Wind actually resembled himself quite a bit he realized, their hair nearly the same color, faces a similar shape. Their noses were even remarkably close, and as Four looked into his eyes, he suddenly felt like an idiot.

“Oh sweet Nayru, why on earth did I not think of this sooner,” he gasped, and quickly reached around to grab for his sword. “I have a solution Wind, I might not have to get anyone else after all.”

“...how?” the sailor asked in confusion, and Four held up his sword.

“Watch.”

Rainbow light shone brightly from the blade, and Four saw Wind squint against it as he split apart, the dust in his hair lighting up with bright colors. It quickly faded, and Vio dropped next to Wind, immediately setting in on studying the situation.

Red sat next to him, nervously holding Wind’s hand, and Green and Blue waited, one more patient then the other, for Vio to finish thinking.

Wind stared between all of them, blinking like he couldn’t believe his eyes, but his shocked faded soon enough, replaced by a look of dawning understanding.

“Oh. Four. I get it...” he snickered to himself, then his breath caught on a laugh and he winced.

Red squeezed his hand again, and Wind shakily squeezed back.

“Okay. I believe we can do it,” Vio said finally, standing up. “If two of us wear the bracelets, and are helped by a third, we can lift the rocks while whoever is left pulls Wind out. I think we have just enough strength between us.”

“Well then let’s go!” Blue said, cracking his knuckles. “Red’s gonna be the one to pull him out, right? Makes sense for him to do the easy job, he’s noodle-armed.”

“I am not noodle-armed!” Red cried, and Wind let out a faint giggle.

“You’re strong in other ways Red,” Green said patiently. “And actually, I was going to suggest Blue pull him out.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because you can easily pull him out while the rest of us move the rocks, and if you end up needing to be quick, you’ll do it even if it’ll hurt him,” Green said, meeting his eyes. “Now let’s go, Wind’s not getting any better.”

Blue grumbled, but agreed, and Vio and Green each put on a power bracelet. Red stood next to them while Blue crouched beside Wind, and the three of them began pulling the largest rock upward.

Wind’s breathing got shakier as they pushed, the rock shifting slightly. Small pebbles bounced, and dust billowed up into the shaft of sunlight as they lifted, slowly, carefully, straining as they pulled the huge stones.

Blue stayed as close as he could to Wind, waiting for the space to widen enough to pull him out. The sailor’s eyes were squeezed shut, lips trembling as they pulled, and Blue shifted uncomfortably as he saw a tear fall down his cheek.

See? Red would have been better, he grumbled to himself.

“Get ready Blue!” Green grunted, sweat beading on his forehead, and he, Red, and Vio all gave a concentrated push, lifting the stones up just enough to create a space above Wind.

Blue moved quickly, grabbing Wind under the armpits and pulling him out without jostling him too much. It didn’t seem to matter though, since Wind cried out the moment he tugged him, but Blue ignored the noise, and kept pulling until the sailor was all the way free and a good distance away from the rocks.

“He’s clear!” he shouted, and the other three parts of himself attempted to put the rocks down as slowly as possible, so nothing would collapse on top of them all. Something grabbed at Blue’s hand, and he realized Wind was clutching at it, breathing heavily as tears trickled down his face.

Blue looked away, and squeezed back.

The others dropped to Wind’s side a few moments later, and Green immediately began fishing in his pouch for something. Red’s face was pale, and Vio remained silent, studying the sailor as he breathed shakily.

His other arm was definitely broken, that much was obvious. Something seemed a little off about the way his lower chest looked, and his legs remained limp, Vio swallowing as he looked at them. He wasn’t sure if the others realized exactly what was wrong, but he wasn’t planning on telling them unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Here,” Green said, and pulled a fairy from his pouch. “This... this should do it.”

I hope.

Vio nodded, and Green opened the bottle, the glow of the released fairy making the tear tracks on Wind’s face glitter. The little creature made a beeline for Wind the moment she saw him, and chimed in distress, then swirled around him in tight circles, concentrating near his legs and spine like Vio had suspected.

Wind exhaled heavily as she finished, and the fairy chimed again, bobbing gently by his cheek, then flitted away into the sunlight.

“Wind. Can you move your legs?” Vio asked, and Wind scrunched his face up in concentration.

He managed to lift them both a little ways, and all of them sighed in relief.

The fairy had done her job.

“Think she didn’t get my arm all the way though,” Wind said with a wince, but he was noticeably less pale then he had been, and was already trying to sit up. “Guess she had to focus on my legs.”

“That would make sense,” Green said with a smile, and helped him sit up. Wind clung to him a little tightly as he assisted him, trembling slightly, and after he was upright, Red leaned over and hugged him.

Wind let out a shaky breath, his eyes glittering, and the others drew near and hugged him as well, even Blue and Vio.

“Thanks,” the sailor said into Red’s shoulder, voice smaller then normal. “Thank you Four, th-that...”

“Of course, sailor,” Green replied gently.

Wind swallowed, and didn’t say anything further.

They stayed there and hugged him for a long time, Red’s shoulder damp where Wind’s face was pressed to it. None of them really wanted to move, shaken and trembly after everything, but eventually Wind pulled back and wiped his face, and the colors helped him stand.

They looked at Wind, then around at each other, and wordlessly grabbed their swords, fusing back into one. Wind watched in surprise, but only asked a few questions before going quiet again, his normal exuberance obviously dampened by pain and leftover fear.

Four put an arm around Wind to support him while they walked, and they set off to rejoin the others, the sailor humming the same rolling tune as earlier.

Four joined in, and the debris around them quietly echoed the song.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu wind #lu four #lu colors #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #day 5 #debris #pinned down #tw injury #hurt comfort #writing from the floor #don’t love how this turned out but it’s alright #the colors are always fun :)

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thegeyisshowing · 7 months

Text

Oh, baby... Chapter 4

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Wife!reader

Fluff level 10000000%

Warnings: smut, mentions of TTC and pregnancy struggles

Chapter 4: The unexpected

You woke up to Larissa already being gone for work and knew you had calls to make to friends who owed a favor. You got up and slowly went through your morning routine, getting dressed and making your coffee. You decided that while Larissa was at work, you would take the opportunity to call an old friend. You dialed a familiar number and waited for the soft voice on the other side.

“Hello?” The voice asked, sounding sweet and warm.

“Mary? It’s Y/N. How are you?”

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, I’m wonderful! How are you and how is the wife?” Mary asked, delighted to hear from her old friend.

“She is lovely, thank you for asking. She is actually part of why I am calling.”

“Oh? How so love?” Concern filling her voice.

“Well as you know, she is the headmistress for Nevermore Academy, and I am a substitute teacher. I know you have dedicated your life to finding children good homes, and I’m afraid that we have a child in our care at the school who does not have a good home. She came to Larissa and broke down sobbing. Mary, she is terrified to go home, says her grandfather beats her for being an outcast. She usually doesn’t go home on breaks but stays with staff here on the grounds. Turns out that she has been lying about why she couldn’t go home all this time. She was too scared to. She has taken quite the liking to Larissa and I would like to see if you would come interview her about the abuse preferably in our home where she might feel safer, as well as possibly let us take her whether that be long term fostering or as her permanent guardians. I know this is a big ask, but I don’t want anyone other than you handling this situation. I trust you, Mary.” You felt like you just unloaded a ticking bomb off of your chest. To one of your closest and oldest friends.

“Y/N! Absolutely, I will do anything that I can to help. The soonest I could come out to the farm would be Friday evening. Does that work?” Mary’s heart burst at the situation. She had a big soft spot for children in bad homes, and she knew if you were calling her… well, it wasn’t good.

“Friday works wonderfully. You can have dinner with us, and we can all get a bit more comfortable with Amelia.” You were so relieved and couldn’t wait to tell Larissa the good news. You gave her a bit more information about Amelia and her grandfather for her to do some digging before bidding her goodbye. After your call, you went on with your work grading a few papers to help one of the other teachers and waited for Larissa to finish her half day at the school.

“Darling, I’m home!” Your wife called, hanging her coat on the hook and taking off her heels with a long sigh. She walked over to the sofa and flopped on it, letting the reality of her day sink in. “Hello my lovely” you spoke softly and bent over the back of the couch to kiss her. What you didn’t expect was her to grab you and pull you into her lap over the back of the said sofa. You squealed and laughed with delight at the sudden movement. “Well hello to you too!” You laughed. She buried her face into your neck and sighed again. “What’s the matter, love?” You asked kindly while unpinning her hair and running your fingers through it.

“Amelia came to my office today again. She’s hurting and apparently won't talk to anyone but me. She came to my office today and wouldn’t utter a word for five minutes. Then the only thing she asked was… was for a hug."” Rissa’s eyes glassed over a bit, but she kept her composure about her. “You were right, darling, we have to do something” Your wife sounded almost broken, in a way you have never heard before.

“Well I actually wanted to talk to you about that. Do you remember my old friend Mary?” She nodded, not really understanding. “She is a social worker and specializes in abused children.” “Y/N!!! How could you! They could take her away from me!” Larissa yelled back at you and went to stand up. You quickly pulled her back down and calmed her. “My love, no. She is coming over to have dinner with the four of us on Friday. How would you feel about becoming Amelia's guardians?” If you didn’t know better, you would have thought her jaw hit the floor. “You really mean that?” She sounded almost childlike when she said it. “Yes my love, I really do. This child means so much to you and has decided you are her person. If she can’t trust anyone and only lives in fear on top of being an outcast, how do you suppose she will ever learn anything or grow up to be like you or me? Not afraid of who we are. She needs love, not discipline, and most won't understand that.” You told her all of this with your hands on her cheeks, eye to eye. Tears slipped down her cheek, and she kissed you and buried her head in your shoulder. She truly thought that she was going to lose this sweet child that she was growing to love more and more. You gave her the full rundown on how Friday would go and how Mary was already looking into her family status. Now it was a waiting game…

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa x wife!reader #larissa x y/n #wednesday #gwendolineuniverse #principal weems #gwendoline christie

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yourgaeyisshowing · 7 months

Text

Oh, baby... Chapter 4

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Wife!reader

Fluff level 10000000%

Warnings: smut, mentions of TTC and pregnancy struggles

Chapter 4: The unexpected

“Hello?” The voice asked, sounding sweet and warm.

“Mary? It’s Y/N. How are you?”

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, I’m wonderful! How are you and how is the wife?” Mary asked, delighted to hear from her old friend.

“She is lovely, thank you for asking. She is actually part of why I am calling.”

“Oh? How so love?” Concern filling her voice.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa x wife!reader #larissa x y/n #wednesday #gwendolineuniverse #principal weems #gwendoline christie

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welldonebeca · 11 months

Text

I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) - XI/Final

WC: 1.9k words Warnings: Fluff. Fun. Heavy petting. Naked people but no smut. The End.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

You danced until your feet ached and then a little more, nearly falling sat when you came back to Bucky's side, and your husband looked very amused.

"You had your fun?" he whispered into your ear.

You giggled.

“Lots of it,” you decided, falling with your head on his shoulder. “But I’m tired now. How long does the part go on?”

He chuckled.

“Well… it doesn’t quite stop,” he explained. “We lave, sleep and come back when we are up again. There is always some number of people dancing and eating and celebrating together.”

You turned to him, shocked.

“For a whole week,” James continued. “We don’t have any public appearances on the 31st, we mostly sleep, and then have a small and family bound New Year’s Eve.”

You exhaled, thinking a little bit.

“It sounds so exhaustive,” you touched his arm. “Seven whole days? Without a break during the day?”

He nodded, not seeming surprised.

“You have your 12 days of Christmas. It isn’t so different.”

Well… from that angle he was right, yeah.

“If you are tired, we can go,” he reached for you, resting his hand on yours. “We won’t be the first.”

You looked around and then at the large ticking cock at the end of the room. It was very late indeed.

“You can stay if you want to,” you assured him. “I can see myself back to bed.”

Your husband shook his head, standing up.

“And leave you?” he asked. “Never.”

You stood up with him, and saw Cassie standing up just as well and coming in your direction, and you tapped James’ arm gently before moving to her.

“Are you coming to help me?” you asked her.

She nodded.

“Yes, ma’am. We agreed I’d be with you tonight, so the other girls could have a bit of a fun night,” she smiled, looking amused.

You squeezed her hands.

“I’ll undress myself,” you told her. “Just make sure someone will be there tomorrow. You can stay and celebrate.”

She smiled and didn’t even ask you twice before rushing to Rebecca’s side and joining the girls in their never-ending dance, leaving you to chuckle. You took James’ hand and walked out with him, entering your chambers and room with him, and you were a little too focused on taking off your cap to find notice the changes.

You placed it down on your vanity, unpinning your braids, and turned to look at James when he closed the door.

It was just then that you realised

Thick arrangements of dark red carnations on both sides of your bed.

Deep love and affection, was what they meant.

James stood by the bed, waiting, a little flushed.

“I thought you might like them,” he spoke slowly. “I… their meaning…”

You nodded with him.

“I know,” you told him. “And I love them very much.

James smiled and you exhaled, moving your hands over your body.

“I… hm…” you looked at the fabric. “I could use help, Undressing.”

Your husband looked at you and then at his hand, and you chuckled a bit.

“With the pulling.”

He giggled, and moved to you.

“I’ll try my best,” he decided, taking off his cape and setting it aside, his hand now free.

There were lots of layers to take off. Your jewellery first, the girdle you’d received as a birthday gift at some point, you didn’t quite remember. Then your false sleeves and the partlet around your neck, and James unfastened your gown when you removed your stomacher, his fingers very skilful for a man with only five of them, and he pulled your gown back with a bit of a struggle and your help, draping it over a chair as you looked for the ties of your four-part, grateful that there was no pinning involved in it this time.

“How many layers do you have left?” he asked, sounding very confused as he stepped to you.

You looked down at yourself.

“A few more,” you chuckled, surprised by his question. “I need your help with my kirtle, I can’t quite reach where they are laced.”

James walked to you, standing on your front and looking around.

“On the back,” you corrected him.

Your husband’s cheeks flushed pink, and he moved to stand behind you.

You tried not to flush as he searched your back and bum with his hand to find the ties, and pulled on them to make it loose.

“Hold on,” you mumbled. “This one pulls from over my head.”

You squirmed, not used to doing it on your own, and squirmed away from the rigid shaping, exhaling in relief when he pulled it from over you.

“See?” you giggled. “That’s why I need so much help.”

James laughed along, and you breathed out, smiling up at him as you stood straighter.

“One more now, dear,” you told him, looking for your petticoat’s button.

Before you could find it, he approached you again, his chest pressing flushed on yours as his hand embraced you and his fingers found the button and undid it.

You didn’t even move, burning all over your cheeks and face as the underskirt fell down.

Oh.

You were completely undressed now, weren’t you?

James’s hand didn’t leave you, and he held you in place, looking at you very intently.

“Happy Christmas,” he whispered.

You exhaled, relaxing, and touched his cheek,

“Happy Christmas.”

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, and gasped when he picked you up, lifting you and carrying you to a different spot right by your bed, and dipped you.

“James!” you yelped. “Why did you do that?!”

He raised his chin and then pointed up with his chin.

You followed his guidance, and gasped when you saw what was hanging over the two of you.

A mistletoe!

“See?” he asked, sounding teasing and amused. “We should kiss. It’s a Mistletoe.”

You giggled.

“Yes, we should,” you agreed.

You placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him, at last. On his lips, not on his cheek. Just like the tradition said.

James stood straight again, taking you with him, and held you as you slowly sat on the bed, standing between your spread legs, pushing your shift the littlest bit as he did, and then pulled back.

“I’ll…’ he exhaled, hesitant. “You… we…”

You stopped, waiting for what he had to say, and James slowly moved away from you, kneeling between your knees and looking up at you. His eyes were soft and sweet, and when he moved his hand up, you were quick to offer yours to take it.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he told you, “I know we are still trying to find our footing, and I really don’t think I’ve been a good lover to you.”

You watched him, hesitant, unsure of what you were doing to say.

What you were supposed to say.

“I liked it when you kissed me,” you told him, deciding to be honest. “And when you were tender and sweet.”

James nodded with you.

“So maybe,” you hesitated. “If it’s not too much to ask…”

“I can be more like that,” he nodded, and he looked very genuine in it.

You nodded with him.

“It’d be nice,” you squeezed his hand. “We could… we could try now.”

James raised his eyes to meet yours, and you looked away from him.

“Or not,” you added quickly. “If you are uncomfortable, we can-”

“We can,” he interrupted you. “Now. If you want to.”

You exhaled, and kissed his lips.

“I do,” you told him. “Please.”

James kissed you again and you used your free hand to cradle his jaw and caressed his skin, petting the back of his hair.

When your husband pulled back, his eyes were filled with something new, something sweeter and warmer, eager.

“Do you want help?” you asked him. “With your clothes?”

James nodded, and you stood up, feeling a bit self-conscious in your lack of clothes, but stood anyway to help him.

You undid his ties and pushed hos clothes off, until James was just in his tunic.

He stopped, at last, when you were both dressed in a single piece.

“I need help,” he told you softly. “To take off my arm.”

You nodded, a little unsure.

“How do I do that?” you asked, unsure.

He untied his tunic, pushing it off of his right shoulder, and you could see a device around his chest.

“I’ll… hm…” he spoke slowly. “I’ll take this off.”

You nodded, and looked away from him as he took off his tunic, and your husband was modest enough to cover his manhood with the piece of clothing, and you eyed his chest for a moment.

There was a contraption device, looking like a partlet made of leather, with clasps that kept his arm attached to his shoulder without having to tie around his neck.

You undid the belt-styled clasps, all three of them, and you could hear the sound of the gold-plated metal moving as you did, and he showed him the last tie, so you could pull it.

“You can pull it,” he spoke slowly.

You complied, and he showed you how to do so, first pushing it up, then to the side, and then down, revealing what he had left of his arm, though it was covered with a leather sleeve.

“This one just slides down,” he told you softly, moving to do so himself, and you mimicked his moves.

At last, there was fabric wrapped around him, its last roll pinned into place in the front, and you pulled it gently, pulling and working on unwrapping him. It was linen, like his tunic and your shift, probably for his comfort.

He sat quietly as you rolled the linen and pinned it, placing it on your bed side.

“Does it hurt?” you asked him.

James flexed the muscle under his scarred skin.

“Sometimes,” he confessed. “Sometimes I feel the rest of it, even though it isn’t there. It aches, flutters… tingles.”

You nodded along.

“Is it hurting now?” you asked.

Bucky looked up at your face, and shook his head.

“No,” he assured you. “It’s alright now.”

You nodded and sat o the bed, watching him.

“May I kiss you again?” he requested.

You nodded again, and leaned onto him, kissing his lips sweetly and warmly, and kissed and kissed him until you were both breathless, and you pulled back when he reached for you.

Maybe it was best that you made it even.

You took your hands to the hem of your shift and took in a deep breath, gathering courage and pulling it up, away from your body.

Your ears picked up on his breath hitching before your eyes fell on his face and found him flushed pink.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you. “I don’t say that enough.”

You flushed, embarrassed, and held your shift over your chest.

James leaned in your direction and pried it away slowly, tossing it behind him and slowly laying you down, his body slowly pressing against yours.

He took his hand to your face, caressing it, and you exhaled when he pulled away.

“Do you want to continue?” your husband asked gently. “We can stop, if you want to.”

“We can continue,” you covered his hand with yours. “It’s alright.”

He smiled and kissed you again.

This was the beginning of something great, you could feel it.

. . .

"i could have chosen you (and yes, i would)" was posted on my Patreon in October 2022 and is fully posted on my page. To read it before anyone else, consider subscribing! It's just $2 a month and it helps me a lot during these hard times.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @shadowhunter7 @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Forever SFW tags: @newtospnfandom-blog @thewinterhunter? @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme? @random-fandom-fangirl2112? @heartislubbingdubbing Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23 @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515 @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs? @patzammit? @thevanishedillusion? @widowsfics? @alexisshoto @princess-evans-addict @dreams-of-feysand @xoxabs88xox @dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith Marvel SFW tags: @daft-not-punk? @hadesnewpersephone @dpaccione i could have chosen you: @emmabarnes @hhiggs @aeo10fan

#i could have chosen you series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes royal au #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x you #bucky x reader imagine

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da-proti-toku-grem · 2 months

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okay, @occhi-verdi-come-il-mare commented under my last prompt that she'd like to read them on ao3 too, and I've been thinking about posting them there for a while (I'll still post them here, dw) so I was wondering...

If I do, I'll be updating the older ones first so I can keep track of them and not miss anything, and I'll probably add the links to ao3 in the masterlist AND at the end of every prompt so you can find them easier :) (I know I unpinned the masterlist for a while bc I posted a fic, but I'll pin again now)

#probably the hard part will be naming them all lmao #bc there are many ships that have the same prompt so i can't just name it like 'kiss out of spite' for example yk #but we'll see 👀#joker out #mine #my polls

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i-can-sabotage-me-bi-myself · 11 months

Text

How'd We End Up Like This?

AO3

Wattpad

Chapters: 2/?

Word Count: 2.6K

Fandom: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, hurt/comfort, RE4 Remake spoilers

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy/female!reader

Summary: You, Leon, and Ashley encounter even more treacherous feats in order to escape the village.

Chapter 2: Chainsaws and a Shitty Missionary

The three of you continued on the path to who-knows-where, making a pitstop at the Merchant's little shop to buy some supplies and repair your gear. The Merchant, who frankly, along with Luis (until proven otherwise), was the only one here who didn't want to kill you all. Dare say you would even sit down and have a drink with him, if it weren't for the current mission.

Exchanging words of thanks with the Merchant, you continue on with your journey. While walking along the dirt path, you offer water to Ashley, which she gratefully accepts. You are soon met with a set of heavy doors, with a note beside it detailing defenses that lie on the other side.

You groan. "Here we go again. Ashley, get behind me."

The fight that ensued ended up being only a taste of what was lingering up ahead, and you and Leon knew it as much. You hoped it was just your instincts talking, but with this line of work, you always gotta anticipate the worst. And at this point in the mission, the worst came:

Chainsaws. Fucking Chainsaws.

There was a giant gate that needed to be opened with a crank. You and Leon quickly found it on a shelf in an old building, and you thought, Huh...guess we got lucky finding this...

Now you wish you could punch your past self from mere seconds ago for jinxing it.

You and Leon almost had it, so close you could taste it, but it got yanked off the shelf by one of two ladies wielding chainsaws. This would be quite the fight.

You quickly unpin two grenades, throwing them at the Leatherface-wannabe's. You expect them to be dead, but instead they get back up like it's nothing. Fucking bioweapons can never make it easy for us.

"Good thing we hid Baby Eagle..." you mutter under your breath. At least there was a silver-lining. Noticing more Ganados entering the building, you shout over to Leon. "We need to draw them out!"

With a quick nod from him, you two run towards the exit, and are met with another locked door. You shoot off its lock and run toward the stairs, while Leon runs around the back of the platforms.

"I got the grannies! Take care of the villagers, would ya?" you shout over your shoulder, holding up your gun towards the aforementioned enemies.

Leon hesitates a bit, then responds with a quick 'got it.' Soon enough you smell smoke and burning flesh, and hear gunshots.

You repeatedly fire shots at the sisters, running in irregular patterns to throw them off before they can get a swing at you. They stubbornly refuse to die, and you're quickly out of ammo. "Shit!"

You stupidly backed yourself into a corner, and you feel panic swell up within you. Taking a quick glance on your belt, you find that you only have one flash grenade left. Having an idea, you say to yourself, "Let's hope this works."

Deciding to risk it, you pull the pin, and the blinding light temporarily distracts them. Rushing towards one of them, you stab her in the neck with your knife, and use it to keep her limp body upright. With the chainsaw still in her hand, you aim it towards her counterpart and charge towards her, tearing into her torso. You resist the urge to falter, and instead push in deeper for the tip of the blade to slice through her back. The woman lets out a final battle cry, choking on her own blood, and collapses. You release your hold on the other, dropping her to the ground.

Standing above her, you wait a few moments to see if she somehow comes back to life, but she doesn't. You reach into her dress pocket, grasping onto the crank and put it in your pocket. Once coming down from the adrenaline, you sigh in relief, "Now we can open that fucking door."

Jumping from the balcony, you run toward Leon's direction, finding him finishing off the last Ganado. He reloads his pistol, and turns around to find you leaning against the wall. His eyes widen at the sight of you, which prompts you to take a look at yourself. You are drenched in blood. "Don't worry. It isn't mine."

He audibly sighs, and then approaches you. You notice yourself trembling a bit, and you clench your fists, taking a steadying breath.

"You alright?" He asks, his tone barely masking his worry. He brushes a few strands of your hair away from your face, and cups your cheek in his hand, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

"Y-Yeah. I just had a close-call with the sob sisters." You grunt, very salty. "Fucking chainsaws..."

Leon huffs out a laugh. "You got that right." You exchange soft smiles with one another. Joining your side, he gently rests his hand along your lower back. You lean into his touch, feeling calmer - feeling safe.

Unfortunately, the tender moment needs to come to an end. Leon reluctantly removes his hand from your back, and it suddenly feels cold there. You already miss his touch.

"C'mon, let's get outta here." He whistles, signaling to Ashley that it's safe to come out. She quickly joins the two of you, a relieved smile plastered on her face.

"Are you two okay?" she asks. She never fails to surprise you with how kind she is, instead worrying for yours and Leon's safety rather than her own.

"Yeah, we're good." You answer. "Let's go."

You three return to the door, finally getting it open. You guys approach a decrepit hut with a gaping hole in its roof.

"Looks like we can get through there." You suggest, noticing the absence of any Ganados inside. You go in first, and extend your hand to Ashley, helping her down. Before entering, Leon looks behind him, checking to see if anyone's following the three of you. Confirming that the coast is clear, he joins you and Ashley inside.

You and Leon find more supplies in the hut, and you all make your exit from the building. Another set of doors lie in wait, and you continue on. Behind you, you hear Ashley scream, and you turn to see the village chief grabbing Ashley's arm. Without hesitation, you stab him, but he's unfazed from your attack. He attempts to strike you, but you're able to dodge him.

"Your soul requires cleansing," he says while twisting the metal on the lock, ensuring no escape back through the door. Slowly turning towards the three of you, he directs his next words to Ashley, "Come, child."

You scoff. "Yeah, I'm thinking no." You fire a shot to his head, but he remains relatively unscathed.

"Ashley! Run!"

You all turn tail and run, shooting down villagers who cross your path. You could still hear the tall, brooding man's taunts through the gunfire, him getting closer and closer. You finally approach a rope bridge leading towards an exit, but the three of you get thrown back from an explosion. Frustratingly, the bridge is gone.

You quickly scan your surroundings, your eyes landing on rickety wooden planks leading to the other side of the valley.

"Hey! We can cross here!" You shout. Leon gives you an affirming nod, and quickly grabs Ashley's hand and starts running. You follow behind Ashley and Leon, covering them from the onslaught of villagers coming towards you three. Ashley suddenly stops.

"I'm stuck!" she shouts, panicking. Leon turns around to aid her, and looks over your shoulder.

"Don't worry! I've got them!" With a quick nod, he gets working to free Ashley's leg, while you land headshots on the incoming Ganados and the Chief.

"Alright, we're good!" Leon notifies you, and you three continue running. You can feel the rotting, unstable planks starting to fall apart, prompting you to quicken your pace.

"The wood is starting to give way! Hurry!" You shout, slight panic in your voice.

With Leon ahead of her, he helps Ashley leap over the last foot between the crumbling planks and the earth. You jump just as the wood collapses, landing halfway onto the cliff. You struggle to maintain your grip, and feel your hands slipping due to the muddy surface. Noticing the absence of your footsteps, both Ashley and Leon turn to find you hanging on for dear life. They grab onto your arms, with you kicking up the side of the cliff to climb up. While helping you up, Leon looks towards the Chief, staring him down.

Once pulled back up, you narrowly miss face-planting into the mud, albeit relieved to be back on solid ground. Leon leans down to help you to your feet and quickly scans your body for any injuries. You gently squeeze his shoulder in thanks, letting your hand linger there a second too long.

You regain your composure by taking a deep breath. Standing up straight and rubbing at your aching shoulders, you exchange glances with Ashley and Leon.

"Thanks, you guys." You offer an appreciative smile to the both of them. Turning heel, you say, "C'mon, let's get outta here."

Pressing onward towards wherever, Leon speaks to Ashley. "Listen. You're the one he wants. If we see him again, you run."

"Wh-What about you guys?" The young woman asks.

"We'll do our job." And Leon leaves it at that.

You reach a large structure, the Merchant with his wee shop set up in front of it.

"Jesus, how is he everywhere?" you think out loud.

"He's a wizard. He told me himself." Leon replies with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Shut up." You chuckle, nudging him lightly.

He laughs along with you, and then clears his throat. "In all seriousness though, I've got no clue."

"Welcome! What can I interest you in?" The man greets the three of you.

Running short on ammo, you approach the mysterious stranger and barter with him. You buy some more resources and first aid for extra measure. You can never be too prepared. You think to yourself.

Done with his services, you walk towards the stairs, and you hear the Merchant chuckling out a comment that makes you uneasy. "Don't get yourself killed now, ha ha!"

"Not planning on it!" you talk back, only making him laugh harder. Huffing, you direct your attention back to Leon and Ashley. "Whatever, let's just go."

You all walk up a set of stairs leading to an entrance of a building. As soon as you reach the doorway, a putrid smell fills your lungs that makes you gag. Looking around, you notice various animal carcasses littering the floor. Yep, this is definitely going on my list of worst smells that make me wanna rip off my nose.

"Jesus, I think I'm gonna boke!" You groan, fighting the urge to throw up right then and there. "Please, can we go?" You whimper out, your eyes begging Leon's.

Although slightly muffled behind his own arm covering his nose, he says, "Don't have to ask me twice."

You cross over the ledge to a door on the opposite side, walking behind Leon with Ashley in tow. Suddenly he is thrown off the balcony from that fucking chief busting through the wall.

"Leon!" both you and Ashley shout in unison. You draw your gun, but hesitate out of fear of provoking the man to come after Ashley. You grip onto the railing, weighing between the options of joining him or leaving him in order to bring Ashley to safety. You release your grip, and remove your gun from your holster.

"Ashley! Go!" You shout over to her.

"What about you?!" Her worried eyes search yours.

"I'll be right behind you!" You reassure her. She's torn between running away and staying behind, but she ultimately decides to evacuate the building.

You direct your attention to Leon, and you two lock eyes. Ignoring the ramblings of the Chief, he shouts at you, "You need to get outta here! Go!"

"No, not without you!" You yell back with determination, but his striking gaze has you crumbling.

"You're not gonna lose me!" He gives you one last look begging you to run, and reluctantly, you go.

Not even three seconds after escaping the slaughterhouse do you and Ashley hear a loud boom. You gasp, running to a nearby window to see what's happening inside. Roaring flames and burning embers engulf the interior, and you can feel the scalding heat emanating from the old window, forcing you to take a step back. Taking a closer look, you see Leon fighting the horrendously mutated village chief, who now has large pincers and an elongated spine that looks like it could snap at any moment.

Being so caught up in your roaring thoughts, you jump when you feel Ashley rest a gentle hand on your tense shoulder. "Go. Go help him."

You let out a shaky breath, shaking your head vigorously. "I-I can't. I have to protect you."

Ashley, with determination in her eyes, squeezes your shoulder. "I'll be fine out here, trust me. Now go help him!"

You exhale, ready your gun, and bust through the window to join Leon. He barely masks the look of surprise on his face when he sees you join his side on the balcony. Deciding to brush off his genuine confusion, you focus your attention on the Chief. "So lemme guess: giant eyeball is the weak spot, ey?"

Deciding to wait to scold you later, Leon clears his throat. "Yup, and he's gonna need some glasses after this."

"Ha ha." you laugh dryly, smirking at him. You narrowly miss a swing of the monster's claws, and parry his next attack with your knife. You and Leon work in tandem: distract him enough in order to get a clear shot to his weak spot.

With the added firepower, he collapses and starts flailing about. As you predicted, his spine completely breaks, splitting him in two. For a brief moment, you're convinced that he's finally dying, but no, the fucker just has to mutate again. From the bottom of his severed torso grows more sharp appendages, and he starts climbing the beams.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" you curse, reloading your handgun. To make matters worse, flaming planks of wood are being thrown at you two, and you're feeling yourself tiring quickly. Fighting off the slow approach of unconsciousness, you keep running and tumbling, all while feeling your lungs and throat burning from smoke inhalation. You feel the intense heat pulling you down, your legs starting to feel like jelly, but you refuse to succumb to it. With the one remaining bullet in your gun, you fire at the explosive barrels that the creature is holding.

"Lord Saddler!" He utters his final words. Finally, yours and Leon's equally unrelenting attacks have killed him.

"Hey! Quick! This place is coming down!" You barely hear her, but are pulled towards the window with your hand in Leon's.

The cool, refreshing air blesses your lungs when you hit solid ground. You quickly pat away the burning embers pricking at your clothes, and you slowly rise to your feet. You feel lightheaded, and you don't even realize that your legs have buckled beneath you until you feel strong arms holding you up. You lull your head onto Leon's shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?" His gentle voice coaxes you back to semi-consciousness. You take several shallow breaths that burn you from the inside. You slowly lift your head to look at him, your eyes struggling to focus.

"Remind me..." You catch your breath. "Remind me to never willingly enter a burning building again."

I hope y'all liked this! Stay tuned for more :P

Taglist (Lemme know if any of y'all would like to be tagged!):

@so-mordor-itis

#resident evil #resident evil 4 remake #re4 remake #re4r #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy x afab reader #lemme know what y'all think #it motivates me to keep writing #do not repost #do not steal #writers on tumblr #clem's writing #how'd we end up like this?

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josiesaltzmanstyle · 2 months

Text

Hope Is Not the Goal

Episode 4 features one of my favorite Josie outfits in the entire show, so yay!

Also, hi. It's been forever. Whoops!

First off, accessories, since they're the most visible in her first appearances. These gold, threaded earrings with gold bars hanging down are some of my favorite we've seen Josie in so far! Unfortunately, I can't find the original pair, but these are a handmade pair on Poshmark, and they seem like a close approximation.

I find this pair especially notable because this is the first time Josie's wearing dangling earrings, which, so far, have been more of Lizzie's thing. This episode is one of firsts, though. More on that later.

Josie, as she is wont to do, is also sporting a detachable, white, ruffled collar. While it's not an accessory I would normally pick, I think it works well to show off Josie's somewhat preppy and reserved nature, even as she's experimenting a little more with style this episode.

I love her hair this episode, too! It's still stylistically curled, but just a shade looser than it has been. It's giving princess waves, instead of studious coils. Pictured above, we can see on her right, she's pinned part of it back, following the trend this early first season has established of Josie pulling her hair from her forehead. Interestingly, though, she keeps the other side unpinned and lets it fall to frame her face. I like this look a lot more than what she has been doing with her hair, and Kaylee Kaneshiro pulls it off really well.

Honestly, one reason it took me so long to update was because I was so frustrated I couldn’t find this Fifth the Label top. I can mostly move on when I can’t find something, but I love this outfit so much. As I was diving back into this project, I was about to give up when I finally found it? I feel like I am on drugs.

It's the first, though certainly not the last, crop top we see Josie in! So far, this season, she's been pretty buttoned up. Crop tops won't be unusual fare for Josie down the line, but in season one, it certainly stands out. She's clearly experimenting in this episode, maybe a little because Rafael is back, maybe a little because this episode is one of the first about Josie coming into her own as she stands up to her father at the end with regards to her perspective that the school needs to teach defensive magic. Josie's whole arc is threaded with this theme of Josie coming into her own and learning (messily) to advocate what she needs and believes in. Maybe it seems small, but I personally don't think the show is shy about using style to build character, perhaps especially with Josie, who, IMHO, uses it to perform quite a lot.

The cropped sweater is a bright red and looks extremely soft in that Depop picture (alas, the only place I could find it), with yellow trim above the end of the sleeves and at the hem. Both are also almost scalloped? But the valleys are slightly deeper and longer and sharper, like teeth.

It’s paired, of course, with a plaid, navy skirt—but I don’t believe it’s her regular school skirt? It’s a little more high-waisted, has a little more volume, and has some sort of zipper/buckle accessory attached? The closest thing I can find is this French Toast skirt, though it doesn't look like it would sit as high as it does on Josie.

Regardless, it’s a Whole Look (TM.)

I belieeeve she’s wearing the same yellow Aldos she wore with her yellow sweater in 1.01! Now, they're in conversation with the yellow trim on her sweater. Love a repeat item, proving her closet is more relatable than meets the eye. It also shows her skill, once again, in coordinating color very well! It reminds me a bit of how she coordinated her first outfit in 1.01, though this look is notably less buttoned-up and preppy. She does pair it with black knee-high socks, though, so that's not to say there's no preppy involved.

Red and yellow, so far, are definitely stacking up as her colors this season.

This outfit manages to be well-coordinated, trendy if a little quirky, and still lets her polished style shine through. It's certainly my favorite outfit we've seen her in so far, and it's probably in my top 5 Josie looks altogether.

We see so little of this look, I fully forgot about it until I was scanning through the episode. Yet I am pretty positive the top is this light blue cable-knit J. Crew sweater, and I think we might get some more appearances of it later on? It's pretty simple and works well with what we've seen Josie in already, as sweaters are her bread and butter this season. It's a relatively simple look in comparison to a lot of her other outfits this season, but that actually makes sense, as it's what she's changed into after she, Hope, and Lizzie get monster goop exploded all over them.

I couldn't get a good shot of them, but she also opted for simple black shorts. I can't be sure, but I think they might be the shorts she wore while serving volunteer detention in 1.03! We don't get a super great look at them, though. Her earrings are also still present, so they must have remained goop-free.

Pretty sure she’s sporting this red and white J. Crew pajama set, though the lighting makes it skew a bit blue/green. The collar (and sleeves and hem of the shorts, though those were harder to snap a picture of it) has a red trim, paralleling the yellow trim of her day sweater. We love a girl who's on theme. (She's also so busy working on her offensive magic proposal and then lightly telling her father off that she hasn't taken her earrings out for bed yet. #ambitious queen.) For some reason, I'm also noticing her makeup more than I have been so far. Maybe her eyeshadow is a bit darker, her lips a bit fuller? Hm. Much to think on.

It should come as no surprise that this was my favorite outfit:

It's very experimental, thus far, for Josie, yet still incorporates all the things that have marked her style so far! Definitely an iconic look.

#legacies #josie saltzman #tvdu #legacies meta #josie saltzman meta #hope is not the goal #1.04

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