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glazelilyy · 1 year

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before the roar of thunder

pairings (separately!) - diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe/tartaglia, xiao x gender neutral reader (no pronouns used!)

word count - 4597

genre - angst, hurt/comfort

format - drabbles

warnings - blood/injury/wound mentions, cataclysmic destruction, violence, crying, kissing, character deaths with no graphic description (but not for the paired character or reader EXCEPT in childe's)

summary - a storm approaches but just before it does, you share a tender moment with your beloved for the last time

a/n - i have been mia for a while :') but this idea just kinda hit me out of nowhere so i decided to write about it :P i don't know if this writing will live up to expectations or any of my work from the past because i haven't written in a while but i'm trying to enjoy writing just because i like it rather than to live up to an expectation, so i'm gonna try and do my best :) i hope you enjoy this piece and thank you all so much for your patience and love these past few months i could not be more grateful that i am being interacted with and sent such wonderful messages <3 (also fun fact i listened to multiple vbs songs while writing most of this which just doesn't fit in with anything happening in these drabbles and majority of the time i had akito rapping in my ear while writing about death LMAO)

diluc loved.

he loved his city, born from the death of corruption and nurtured by the souls and free spirits of her people. he loved the crisp breeze that swept by falcon coast and cradled its peak in a bough of brevity where his worries would fly away and cast themselves up into the sky to become stars. he loved the shade from beneath the towering tree at windrise where memories of summers and picnics and childhood mischief came alight with a single glance towards her wavering leaves. he loved the cool touch of a crystalfly's perch upon his gloved finger.

he loved his companions; silently from afar he'd send well wishes in quiet messages meant only for their hands to caress or ears to indulge. he loved lisa; lazy as she might appear not once had she ever let him down. he loved jean: hardworking, disciplined, strong, courageous, but for every pedestal she was placed on was she ever more human—flesh and blood with a heart that pounded for others and never herself. he loved kaeya—his beloved little brother who always preferred the cool shade of his shadow and shielded his back from the many blades that sought his head.

he loved you. you who brought light with gentle hands and placed it within his heart. you who illuminated the dark, winding pathway of justice he thought he'd walk alone forever. you who showed him trust, who knew how he liked his tea (sweet, for a man who was even sweeter). you, who braided cecilias into his hair and peppered kisses across his ruddy cheeks and doused him in all the sugary sweetness that love could ever provide.

diluc loved, and loved, and loved, tremendously.

and he still loved, even as mondstat burned in a storm of fire.

he still loved, even as he stood over lisa and jean whose eyes had lost their brilliance and sparkle of life.

he still loved, even as he wept for his little brother who had feared death and spent his remaining strength gripping onto the tassels of his jacket and begged for him to stay; to reassure him in his last moments.

he stayed, despite the agony that coursed through his body and the never-ending sorrow that scorched his heart when kaeya stilled.

he still loved, even as he gripped your hand with tenacity laced in his veins.

soot and ash coated both of your bodies and faces as you stood at the gates of mondstat and watched the world before you crumble beneath your feet.

diluc felt his heart bob up and down in the narrow passageway of his throat.

he was always too late.

too late for his city. too late for his friends. for his brother.

the love in his heart was never enough. he was never enough. and now everything was gone. burning.

never before had he despised looking at his vision so much.

"they'll be back," you whispered hoarsely, and diluc turned to look at you, "the abyss order."

your hand seemed to squeeze his with every ounce of strength you had left, eyes wide and trembling with the flickering flames of destruction reflected in the glassy haze of your irises. the fresh tear tracks on your face twisted his heart into a knot.

"i know," he replied, never once casting his gaze away from you, "i'm still alive, after all."

diluc would not tell you that he could smell the unmistakable stench of abyssal magic from over the horizon. he couldn't. you'd seen horror after horror and now was not the time to tell you that more bloodshed approached. the abyssal army approached slowly and steadily, and soon they would be here to have his head on a stick. there was no running, there was no use escaping the inevitable.

"diluc..." you turned to him, doll-like and devoid of life with a tremble of sorrow buried in the abyss in your expression, "what do we do?" you whispered to him, as if he contained secrets of the universe that should only be shared between the two of you.

wordlessly, he pulled you close and rubbed a soothing hand in gentle strokes up and down your back. his embrace guarded you from the inevitable end that slowly crouched closer, rising with newborn sun. gloved, soot-covered hands slid up to your cheeks to thumb away at the tears that collected near your eyes.

diluc's heart wrenched in his throat uncomfortably, knowing well and good that this may be the last tender moment he'll ever share with you.

to that end, he found himself asking, "would you care for a dance?"

the question came out broken and hoarse, just barely under a whisper and lost was the man who once held a burning flame of retribution and tenacious blaze of justice in his eyes. you peered into a pool of tired red, glossed over with a misty haze of sorrow.

wordlessly, you allowed him to guide your hands and let him set the tempo as you moved carefully to avoid the debris scattered at your feet.

you'd always joke that he was much like a prince when he danced; so elegant and refined with the composure of royalty itself, he spun and dipped you much like a silk ribbon weaving through the air.

this time, however, diluc held you close and swayed to an invisible song. no elegant movements or dips from your prince. now, he was but a man clinging to the last remnants of life in his soul; the only thing tethering him to this world.

your hearts wildly pounded against each other's chests, horribly out of sync yet still so tremendously close that you'd fuse together if you could.

as the sun rose and illuminated his once beloved city, home to the people he loved, diluc leaned in and captured your lips one last time in a kiss that touched your soul and wrapped your heart in a blazing warmth of flame.

his hand wrapped so tightly around your waist and held itself firm at the back of your head, desperate to drink every last drop of your love and desperate to not let your eyes open and see that the abyssal army had breached what was left of mondstat's defenses.

diluc loved, and loved, and he loved you more than life itself. but in the end his love was never enough.

(continued utc!)

once, at the tender age of five or six, kaeya alberich witnessed death for the first time.

he'd grown fond of the butterflies that fluttered near the crystal clear lake behind dawn winery. their vibrant colors were foreign and new and his childhood intrigue urged him to watch with glowing eyes at each flap of its multicolored wings.

it was on one of these days where he found himself in the presence of the gleaming scythe of death itself when a colossal frog leapt from the waters and captured a butterfly within its maw.

he'd never felt such fear, and he convinced himself he'd never feel that fear again.

he now realized he was wrong.

he felt it again when diluc screamed, a horrifying sound, for his fallen father and kaeya did not know how to handle the immensive wave of relief that flooded over him. he felt it when a fiery blade swung itself down against his eye and believed his punishment was nigh. he felt it now, as mondstat burned to the ground and the corpses of citizens, knights, and abyssal monsters alike littered the once love-filled, lively streets.

death had always followed him closely like a friend—like a lover, he corrected himself. its arms wrapped around his body and cooed sweet nothings to him. death trotted after him wherever he went.

perhaps he should've gave into its embrace. maybe if he had, death wouldn't have found a lover in his home and snuffed the life and vivacity out of every mondstatian and every building within the city's walls. death would not have sunk its claws into jean, who took the abyssal army's leader with her when she pounded at the gates of celestia. or lisa and albedo, who fought at the western front for days on end only to succumb to the overwhelming onslaught of enemies with not enough manpower. what a shame, kaeya thought; he was rather looking forward to his daily midnight tea session with lisa and bothering albedo during his experiments. in some other universe, he is there and he is happy.

he loathed to think of it, but death had latched its talons into the flesh of little klee. a child was no exception to this hoard of monsters, but was the monster not truly him for failing them all? he wondered as he held her cold body close and wept.

death had always followed him but kaeya came to the conclusion that he was the one who truly wielded death. where he went, bodies dropped and lives fell into ruin. his prime example: his brother, who now lay at his feet with a sword through his back. a sword through his back, he seethed, because his attackers were so cowardly that they knew this uncrowned king would not go down so easy. it filled kaeya with an ugly rage that blotted out the tears in his eye. his shirt remained caked in diluc's blood from when the man brought him into a hug as he dangled at death's edge and whispered apology after apology into his ear.

always caught between the worlds of the blessed and the sinned, kaeya believed that he had grown quick enough to outmaneuver fate itself. but death remained steadfast and tenacious.

death was his lover and he was doomed to dance an everlasting tango so long as he lived. if not for him, the imposter in an aviary full of beautiful, golden-winged seabirds, perhaps the abyssal army would have left mondstat alone. jean would be here, ready to give him an earful for getting carried away with all the scars littering his body. albedo would chide him as he dressed his wounds while klee went on about another dodoco story while her little legs swung back and forth in the air. lisa would hand him a cup of tea and enjoy his company in silence. diluc...oh diluc, all the things he wished to tell his brother.

the only problem in his death theory was you.

you were still here.

you held him close as he wept for his beloved friends, for the little girl who always called him big brother, and for his beloved most treasured big brother whose fiery hair blazed no more.

how were you still here? was death not his lover? did he not bring death and sorrow wherever he went?

but if anything you were life. in your hands he renewed himself again, much like a butterfly unfurling its wings after cocooning for so long. warm smiles and fluttering kisses always greeted him after a long day's work. even now, as you wept beside him for your fallen friends, you remained his last thread of life keeping him tethered to this world.

"everyone's dead." you whispered from the crook of his neck as you both sat on the dust covered ground where the statue of barbatos once stood, mighty and proud.

"i'm sorry." he pleaded in return.

you shot your head up, bewildered and...offended.

"it's not- it's not your fault!"

kaeya laughed dryly, "oh, darling, you know it is."

death was his lover and he was succumbing to it. death was his lover and he drank in each of its poisonous kisses and sneaky touches.

you wasted no time in bringing him close, effectively delaying off death for a while longer. "it. is. not. your. fault."

"they'd be elsewhere if not for me-"

"mondstat would have fallen a lot quicker without you, kaeya," you interrupted, "you are no harbinger or vessel of death. you protected this city and its people with your life."

how did you always know what to say? perhaps you were an archon—that would be funny, wouldn't it? a sinner and an archon in love. kaeya wanted to laugh at the thought of it but all that left his lips was a broken whine that slid into a muffled sob. you were there to catch him as he fell into the overwhelming onslaught of sorrow that flickered around him much like the distant flames of burning houses and crinkle of crackling wood and stone.

"it should have been me." he croaked.

you shook your head and swept away the locks that clung to his sweaty forehead. "if it were ever you, i would go as well."

his heart ached in the cavity of his chest, eager to run away from this all. but he lay tired in your arms as you peppered kisses to his skin. even as you sunk to the ground on your side and gathered him in your arms, all he felt was the overwhelming tide wash over him.

death was not his lover, you were. and you were life. he loved living with you and with his beloved friends and comrades.

he lay beside you and kissed every inch of your face, covering you in his love. he cared not for the distant roar of abyssal mages and monsters anymore, not when he held life itself within his arms. life who kissed him back with just as much love and sweet tenderness that set his heart alight.

on this day, two butterflies sat perched on a perfect calla lily, waiting for the inevitable end of a frog's maw; their hearts and souls forever intertwined.

childe can't remember many of his dreams, but there is one he's clung onto for years.

he is in a soft bank of snow, surrounded by his darling siblings and cherished parents. his father does not look at him as if he's seen a beast dredged up from the darkest of nightmares. the world around him is pure and crafted of childhood dreams: there is no evil and there is no heart ache.

you are there and you are smiling at him, waiting for him with open arms.

this has remained but a mere dream of his for a reason.

in reality, there was only the cold, concrete ground of the fatui jail cell and dry, underground air that left him suffocating. slivers of eerie, ghostly blue light trickled in from the false candles that lined the underground jail. the rust-caked iron bars bathed reluctantly in the ghastly glow.

his eyes flickered up to the ceiling, hoping to make out shapes or cracks within the foundation. just give me some hope, archons if you're listening—please! but the gods stayed silent and the ceiling remained unchanged.

his vision and delusion had been stripped, weapons all but ripped from his hands. there was no hope left. childe let his gaze wander to you.

you lay in the cell across, face down, unconscious after taking the butt of a fatui gun to the nape. how cruel—to involve the lover of a scorned harbinger. for the god of love the tsaritsa was awfully sadistic. no matter how much he struggled and screamed that you should not bear the burden of his crimes it did nothing but urge the fatui to get their hands on you even more urgently.

childe wishes that he had accepted reality—wishes that he had never tried to desert from the fatui. steal away under the cover of night with you in hooded cloaks and cross the snezhnayan border for a life free of misery and a life where it'd be you and him together.

as much as the fatui have given him power, you have given him strength and courage and hope and love. there was no place for childe among the fatui, not when he wanted his place to be by your side. to feel your love each and every day and wake up to your smile.

you stirred from your cell, snapping childe from his thoughts. his hands snatched themselves at the bars, eyes blown wide and searching for signs that you were okay.

"hmmn...childe? where...where are we?"

his heart ached tremendously and beat against the skin of his throat.

"jail." he whispered.

"what?! but...but we were just about to cross the border when-"

"when we were caught by pulcinella's men," childe finished, "and brought here. i've been charged with desertion and my punishment is at sunrise."

childe hated seeing you feel anything but happiness—anything but love and the sunshine of emotions that you deserved to experience. he failed you when tears gathered in your eyes.

"but the punishment for desertion..."

childe smiled with eyes that swam in a sea of sorrow, "execution." he finished.

you lifted yourself up onto your forearms and dragged your semi-awake body to the edge of the jail cell. between each cell lay a narrow path, where you desperately reached your hand out to the other side. the tears that had gathered in your eyes streaked their way down in hazes across your cheeks as you suppressed your sobs and whines. your fingers shook with everything within you as you stretched and reached out to him, this beautiful, golden man whose wings would be clipped at sunrise.

childe scrambled to shove his hand past the bars and reach your hand. he only managed to grab onto the tips of your fingers but it was enough for him. you were in his grasp, it was enough for him.

he was thankful his family would not have to bear the brunt of his desertion, he should really thank mister zhongli for sneaking them out of the country into liyue. he regrets not having you go along with his family, but you insisted on going with him. it's his fault you were in jail.

reality was far too cruel.

"you'll escape, right? you've always got a plan." you pleaded between heaving breaths.

childe weakly laughed from an ugly, hopeless place.

he wished to make all your dreams come true, protect all your wishes and hold your smiles and laughter close like a warm trinket tied around his neck. anything but this ceaseless crying and sorrow that he felt slither from your heart through your arm and into your connected hands.

"come now, no tears, sunshine. you know i'll be okay, i'll figure something out." childe cooed, though he knew better. oh, lord, these lies would swallow him whole, but it is fated.

"do you promise?" you whispered brokenly.

his heart screamed at him not to do it, conscience pounding at the doors of self control in his mind. but childe was a protector of dreams and happiness.

a lean, scar riddled pinky looped in your own, holding tight to the invisible promise that linked the two of you. "i'll keep it all my life."

"if you break it i'll throw you on the ice myself."

the warbled smile on your face was enough. your watery eyes and tender touch gave him light that was not reminiscent of death like the flickering blue candles that lined the jail.

"of course. i'll owe you a duel as well. do you think you'll best me this time?"

you scoffed and tugged on his fingers, "of course i will, so you have to stay alive for me to beat you."

"well, i can't ignore orders from the top now can i?" he joked and reveled in the muted laugh that bubbled past your lips.

even in the bleakest of moments you gave him hope, like a light shining in a sea of never ending darkness.

"you'll always have me, no matter where i am. i promise you i won't let them hurt you." he whispered, and unlike that last promise, he meant it.

you held his hand until the guards came and even as you screamed and pleaded and cried with all your heart for him to stay, there was some morbid part of childe that was glad he got to hold your hand for the last time. he called out his declarations of love one last time as he fought against the grip of the guards and shoved his hands through your jailcell bars to cup to face and swipe away your tears. agony coursed through his veins as the guards ripped him from your grip and your fingers slipped through his hands like the sands of an hourglass. the last picture of your face would be one of horror and tear-stricken as the guards dragged him off. he whispered your name and as it rolled off his tongue it left in its wake a taste of sunshine and mirth.

i love you, more than anything in this world. more than power and glory and all the temptations of this world. you are my dream.

as he kneeled before the tsaritsa in handcuffs and chains nailed to the floor with her hand raised to deal the strike of death upon him, he smiled once more at the dream he cherished.

he is safe, and warm, and everyone he loves knows no sorrow.

though he promised to protect that dream, he knows his tongue will freeze over so that he may never spew lies again.

for as long as he's lived, xiao has prepared himself extensively for only a single thing: his death.

it wasn't a matter of sorting out the wares and material items he didn't own—such things weren't of importance to an adeptus like himself. rather, it was the acceptance of death itself. he was no stranger to this cloaked figure of fear that knocked on its hosts doors or barged in uninvited. blood covered his hands, dripped down the slope of his jaw and pooled at his feet. death invaded every crevice of his life much like a persistent parasite that sought to drive him to the brink of madness and back again. but it was familiar and offered a morbid sense of comfort.

as far as he could ever consider, xiao had waited for death for as long as he'd known the stars to dot the sky.

those same stars flickered down back at him, almost pitifully, as the ground shook with tremors that made the grass come alive and dance a morbid waltz of terror. crimson smoke painted the sky and blotted out the overhead glow of the stars. screams cried out in the distance and clashed with the sounds of blades and battle cries and war horns to produce a macabre melody that twisted a knot in his stomach.

fading bodies of monsters lay at his feet, numbers in the dozens. his breath caught in his throat, desperate to retreat yet needing to escape. he clenched his blood-bathed spear, fingers curling taut around the metal to cling to the last shred of hope he could muster.

his eyes flickered up to you, who mimicked his breathless, tired disposition as a mitachurl fell at your feet. your weapon clattered to the ground, your knees following shortly after.

xiao raced to your side in a blip, quick to grip your forearms before you could hit the ground. his polearm laid abandoned where he once stood, now its final resting place. his arms were now full of you and eyes clouded in worry. exhaustion crept its way onto your face and it was then he knew: hope was all lost.

the abyssal armies and undead, ancient gods raged onwards in the distance, they harrowing sounds a mere whisper in comparison to the loud thundering beat of your heart against his body.

reluctant as he was to touch you for fear of his karmic debt, xiao found himself hesitant to let go. for you to slip through his fingers and the fear of never allowing his fingers to trace the slopes and edges of your face invaded him like an intruder. your arms reciprocated and slid around his shoulders as a silent plea. this madness would never end, let's stop. you seemed to cry out.

perhaps this was the very moment he'd been preparing what felt like eons for. death crept its way around the corner, leaving war and destruction in its wake and its march to sink its fangs into both him and you was inevitable.

his knees buckled as you both sank to the grassy bed, bodies and limbs entangled and intertwined in a connection that seemed impossible to sever. as much as his conscience begged him to move and enact his long written duty, his body cried out a different tune, his heart a different dance altogether.

you shifted his body and laid his head on your lap, bracing yourself on a palm as your other hand worked to move the sticky strands of lush, forest-green locks from his sweat-covered forehead.

"rest, you've done well." you murmured with a gentleness in your eyes that made his stomach swim up to his throat and choked him ever so sweetly.

had he done enough? war raged on, lives devoured by the endless deluge of monsters and evil beings that sought death. his most reliable companion, death, would soon march up to his door and barge in with a demand for his head.

all the while, xiao believed that he was ready to embrace death. he pictured it perfectly: he'd meet his end in the midst of battle and his death would contribute towards a greater good. some would garner a chance to escape while the monsters gorged themselves on his death and feasted on his powers.

now, however, an unsettling sense of dread settled in his chest. the world around him burned and crashed and yet you remained intact, gently stroking his hair and humming a sweet song that you'd often coo to the birds on the railings of wangshu inn (and he loathed to look west and see the silhouette of a once towering, proud inn now toppled to the ground).

had he not readied himself for the one, singular thing that has been constant in his life? had he not witnessed enough to resolve the conflict that was life or death?

as he listened to the melody that fell from your lips with the world around him blotted out to nothing but you and him, he realized a truly frightening thing: he was not ready yet. death could not guarantee that you would be there to sit silently beside him on cool, summer nights and fold butterflies out of leaves or go crystalfly watching in the early mornings of spring. death would not ensure that he felt an uncomfortable yet welcoming warmth in his stomach when your eyes met his and a smile bloomed on your face (and though he'd never know how he should respond, you always seemed to somehow know how he felt).

he was not ready to be without you. a dreadful realization. he had failed at preparing himself for the one thing he knew was inevitable. but in this moment, as the world caved in and crumbled around you, he felt peace. his worn body lay tired and supplicant in your arms. once a weapon, now he found himself rusted and worn beyond repair left with only this beautiful longing in his heart to be filled with all of you. his eyes fluttered up to your visage and behind your kind eyes and warbling smile, the stars glimmered back down at him.

in these final moments, xiao wished to be nowhere else. with a heart so full of love, its wings unfurling and stretching high towards the sky where it'd soar on forever in an unmarked destination.

date published: january 30th, 2023

#genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact angst #TW: MCD #TW: blood #TW: death #works—☆

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marvelmusing · 9 months

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Toying with You

Part of the Glitter & Gold AU

Pairing: Modern!Darklina x Fem!Reader

Summary: After spending the night at Nikolai and Zoya’s house, you wake between Aleksander and Alina. It isn’t long before their hands begin to wander.

Warnings [18+]: smut, fingering, use of sex toys (vibrator), mentions of sexual activities (spanking, bondage, sex toys, overstimulation)

A/N: set immediately after Like A Diamond, not extensively proofread

My Masterlist

Even on your days off from work, you often wake up early. It used to frustrate you a little, being unable to enjoy a long sleep in, but this morning you find yourself glad you had woken up a couple of hours after sunrise.

After the events of last night, your body had been cosy and sated as you lay between Aleksander and Alina, though with the knowledge of their presence - and their bodies so close to yours - it hadn’t taken long for need to blossom in your core.

Luckily, the two of them had been in a similar mindset, taking turns to press soft kisses to your neck and along your shoulders as they talked quietly. Aleksander’s morning voice is low and husky, while Alina’s is soft and heavy. They both settle into your mind easily, filling your head with debauched thoughts and fantasies, especially when they begin to tell you about their personal preferences.

Neither of them like being spanked, though Aleksander admits that he enjoys giving someone a spanking - as long as his partner is enthusiastic about their enjoyment. With her delicate hands, Alina can’t muster the same level of force as her husband, so she prefers to use toys for impact play. There’s a dark mischief in her voice that makes anticipation thrum beneath your skin at the thought of being at their mercy.

They tell you that the punishment Aleksander likes to give Alina usually consists of bondage and overstimulation, the mention of which makes your thighs tremble. Imagining Alina, her hands bound to their headboard with silk ribbon, her legs spread as Aleksander makes her come undone innumerable times, has you grinding against the mattress.

Then Alina rolls over, reaching into the bedside cabinet drawer to retrieve something.

She pulls your panties aside, moaning lowly when she finds the fabric soaked with your arousal. A whimper escapes your lips as she parts your folds, an awestruck expression filling her eyes as she looks down at your squirming body.

“Can Sasha have a feel of you, baby?”

You give her a rather dumbfounded nod, turning to glance at Aleksander as he slips his hand into your panties. His fingertip circles your clit eagerly and you buck your hips forwards at the sensation which makes them both laugh quietly. The look they exchange between one another has desire thrumming through the flushed bud of your clit.

“Such a mess already, milaya,” Aleksander coos with an indulgent smile. “Would you like Alina to play with you a little?”

Breathless from their attention, you nod again.

There’s a low hum that buzzes to life and you realise what Alina had retrieved from the bedside drawer - a vibrator. She tilts her head aside, watching your expression turn expectant and she runs the toy down the length of your inner thigh. The vibrations have pleasure prickling over your skin and desperation pools in your stomach. An deep ache gathers in your core as the idea of her pushing the toy inside you consumes your thoughts.

She only indulges you once you begin to beg weakly, tugging on her wrist to place the toy where you need it most. The amount of arousal smeared over your thighs and mount has a soft flicker of embarrassment brushing over your cheeks, though they both seem pleased at the sight of you so wound up. Aleksander holds onto your hip, keeping you in place as she pushes the toy into your dripping cunt.

The vibrations have you whining loudly, the end of the toy nudging a hairsbreadth away from your most sensitive spot, making you grind your hips upwards in an attempt at pushing it deeper - much to their amusement.

Then, much to your confusion, Aleksander hands your phone over to you, turning it on for you and instructing you to google a particular brand. Heat burns down your body and your cunt clenches rapidly around the vibrator when you realise they want to shop for sex toys with you - right now.

It’s unbelievably hard to concentrate on anything, as they compare the merits of particular toys, considering what they could do to you - or each other - with the toys displayed on your screen.

Alina nestles her body closer to yours, slipping her hand between your thighs to push the vibrator deeper inside you. A low moan catches in your throat as the buzzing sensation thrums against your sensitive walls and your eyes flutter closed, your teeth gritted tightly.

“Do you not like that one?” she asks quietly, nodding towards your phone as her nose traces over the shell of your ear.

Lying on your side, facing away from Alina, with your phone in your hand, you struggle to focus on the image on your screen. At Alina’s question, Aleksander lifts his head up slightly from the pillow. From his place beside you, he can’t see the image though it seems to have roused his interest nonetheless.

“Let me see, milaya.”

Heat prickles over your cheeks as you tilt the device backwards for him to look at. His brows furrow lightly as he studies the image, though there’s a playful glimmer in his dark eyes when he says,

“Explain it to me.”

Subconsciously, your hips roll forwards, seeking some pressure against your dripping entrance. The vibrations of the toy inside you and the arousal smearing over your thighs has your body burning with heat as you stare at the silicone toy on the screen in front of you.

“Well…” Alina strokes her hand down your abdomen, fingers grazing over the soft hairs there and you struggle to gather together the words necessary for an explanation. “That end would go inside Alina, and it would vibrate, while the other end would go inside me.”

He hums quietly, a thoughtful expression on his face as he refuses to acknowledge the waver in your voice.

“Or,” he suggests. “We could slip the vibrating end into you, press that little nub in the centre against your pretty clit, and lie you down on your back so that Alina can fuck herself with the other end.”

The breath halts in your chest at the thoughts spilling into your mind, thoroughly inspired by Aleksander’s suggestion.

While Alina’s teeth drag over your earlobe, you imagine her straddling your lap, breasts bouncing as she moves up and down over the toy that would be inside both of you.

A shiver runs down the length of your spine at the sensation of her suckling the soft skin beneath your ear. Aleksander slides his thigh between yours, pressing the firm muscle against your cunt.

The world blurs momentarily and a desperate noise escapes your lips. He asks you several questions about the toy, his voice light and conversational as if your mind isn’t melting into a puddle. He asks you to explain how many speed settings there are and the dimensions of both ends of the toy.

Alina’s breathing is heavy against your shoulder as Aleksander muses quietly about whether she would prefer the thicker end for herself. She whimpers at the teasing lilt in his voice and you ache at how casually confident he seems. Alina buries herself into your back, her arms winding tightly around your waist so that she can rock her mound against the curve of your ass.

“Put it in the basket, baby,” Alina whispers against your neck, a desperate edge to her voice as she trails a slow path of kisses along your thundering pulse. Her teeth graze over your skin, a sign that she’s being drawn into your pleasure as she bucks her hips greedily over your curves.

Aleksander takes your chin between his fingers, guiding your eyes up to lock onto his as he scours your expression for any discomfort. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes and you squeeze them shut tightly. He appears to notice the slight softening of your brows as you blink rapidly, the edge of your orgasm spiralling in your stomach.

His hand settles on the soft plush of your thigh, occasionally gripping onto your hip, pinning your twitching cunt down against the flexing muscle of his thigh. Heart hammering in your chest, you grasp onto them both, gripping Alina’s arm and scrambling at Aleksander’s chest as your pleasure peaks. The back of your head knocks against Alina’s shoulder as you writhe between them both.

A gasp catches in your throat as you climax, a small moan breaking free from deep in your chest as you come undone over Aleksander’s thigh. The feeling of your cunt twitching, the fine hairs on his leg brushing against your skin, has you shivering as the waves of pleasure roll through your body.

Alina turns the vibrator off once your whimpers turn sharp, your body on the edge of overstimulation - which you aren’t particularly in the mood for this morning.

The two of them continue to layer soft kisses over your skin as you slowly come down from your high. A bead of sweat traces its way down the length of your calf and you can feel another on your hairline where you had pressed your face into the pillow. Heat flows beneath your skin as your heart pounds a steady rhythm, fuelled by the dizzying orgasm.

It takes quite some time for you to sit up with the intention of going to the bathroom. Alina offers to help you make the walk, which you decline with a shy smile.

For a long moment, you sit on the toilet seat, staring at the faint grooves in the wood of the closed door, painted a glossy white that shines in the low light. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t feel warm and blissfully light.

They are both sitting up in bed when you return, Aleksander leaning against the headboard with an arm splayed behind his head, whilst Alina sits at his side, facing him, with her legs crossed and her brows furrowed as her thumbs fly over the screen of your phone.

The door shuts smoothly behind you and the two of them lift their heads to look at you, slowly walking over the plush carpet towards them.

“What are you doing?” you ask her.

“Adding Aleksander’s card to your phone’s wallet.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you insist quietly as you reach the edge of the bed. “I can pay for my own things.”

“We know.”

Aleksander takes hold of your chin, leaning forward to kiss you gently. After one brush of his lips against yours, he furthers the kiss, sinking his hand into your hair to pull you closer and you clamber over the sheets towards him.

“I want to spoil my girls,” he admits between kisses. “Let me spoil you.”

“And ruin you a little,” Alina adds with a small laugh. You grin at her, turning your body so that you’re lying between the two of them.

“Okay.”

She smiles widely, reaching to grasp the back of your head to kiss you, her tongue swiping over your lower lip.

After weeks of fantasising about the two of them, with teasing touches and conversations that have left your panties soaked, the fact that you can reach out and touch them - kiss them even - seems surreal.

Alina traces her fingers gently over your inner thigh and you hum quietly in pleasure as your eyes flutter closed and the side of your head sinks into the space between her neck and her shoulder. Aleksander presses a kiss to your temple, his hand smoothing down your side.

There’s the sound of movement downstairs in the kitchen, no doubt from Nikolai and Zoya as they begin to assemble breakfast for their guests, and hunger stirs in your stomach at the thought of the spread that will soon be awaiting you at the dining table.

Alina stands, shrugging on the silk bathrobe that has been hanging over the chair beside the vanity table. She smiles at you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead and you lean into her touch eagerly.

“Breakfast?” she asks.

You nod with a smile.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#glitter & gold au #darklina x reader #darklina x reader smut #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #darklina au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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bxttxrflybxddie · 25 days

Text

|Dating Mime Bomb|

a/n: GOD i love this mime skdjlsbdksbdks pls let me be self-indulgent lmao please enjoy

pairing: mime bomb x gn!reader

post type: headcannons

requested: yes!

word count: 750+

warnings: thieving, major fluff, brief mentions of past bullying, possibly brief mention of monogamy? (mentioned how you're his fav person), might make a pt. 2, or a drabble, or a continuation that isn't safe for minors lmao idk it's 4am!

Mime Bomb adores you! There’s no use hiding how you’re running through his mind all day. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t, since anybody could guess from the lovestruck expression on his painted features. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

He’s your biggest supporter, for better or for worse. He’s always up for tagging along on any mischief (preferably criminal) you’re up to. He keeps an eye on you since you’re his favorite person, but invite him anyway! It's the thought that counts!!

Working together on missions is a blast. (Both of you working for VILE or not.) Between romantic gestures and getting some needed alone time, the beautiful scenery changes the setting from an expedition to a date. Even if VILE doesn’t land their sticky fingers on a prized artifact, you and Mime Bomb never leave the area empty-handed. (You’re holding each others! And perhaps stolen property.)

Indulging in his interests is one of the best ways to make him feel appreciated. Get him some merchandise from a musical and he’ll reward you with either mimed kisses or a gift in return! You don’t need to tell him what you’re interested in, he knows from his pining before you two got together. (Tell him anyway, he’ll love that you want him to know your passions.)

Downtime is the best time. As much as he likes his mime getup, and how loveable you may find it too, Mime Bomb bare-faced in ordinary clothing is a beautiful sight. He can rub his face on your chest/lap/head/shoulder/etc. without worrying about redoing or transferring his foundation, you get a peek into his everyday style, and you can finally see how red he gets after flustering him.

Tease him, be relentless. He’s been bullied, picked on, and made fun of his whole life. He can take just about anything you give him out of pure experience. Lovingly satirize him but give him the space to do it back to you. Not only is this great for inside jokes between the two of you, but it’s almost healing for him. To laugh with someone instead of being laughed at is something he never processed since he was always the butt of the joke. It’s like rough-housing but with words and actions instead of physical contact. Physically tease him too, lingering touches and featherlight kisses make him swoon.

Kissing him, lipstick on or not, is an art form between you both. It’s sacred and cherished, with the everlasting fear that each lock of lips might be the last. Holding hands is also attached to sweet moments. Since he normally wears gloves, it’s not often you’re allowed to feel the skin of his palms or the bones of his knuckles. He’ll allow you to paint his nails, but he normally chooses black so prepare to stock up.

He does daydream about a future with you. Either by a continuation of your relationship now or maybe something big and new. He wants you by his side and him by yours through thick and thin. You’re his person; his rock, and he tries to let you know in every little shared moment.

Mime Bomb is arguably the stealthiest operative that VILE has had, which means that he’ll be completely silent without always meaning to. You’re jumpscared constantly, but you learn to get used to it since it’s an accident. Little do you know that he purposefully shocks you sometimes, he thinks it’s cute. He also lets you get away with a lot more than he should just because he thinks you’re adorable. Stolen items, deceiving others (not himself, to make that crystal clear), even possibly joining Team Red, He’s turning a blind eye. If your actions carry a heavy burden to conceal, he’ll expect a prize. (Date Night is now THRICE a week!!)

Unsurprisingly, not a bad significant other. What he lacks in experience is made up in enthusiasm. Your dear mime is a theater kid and a hopeless romantic, so he’ll sometimes pull actions or lines (nonverbally) from scenes of movies, musicals, and even a few shows. If you know what he’s referencing, act out the corresponding part to see him stumble before regaining his confidence.

He feels incredibly special that you’re in his life and your presence is doing wonders for his mental health. Knowing that someone is in his corner after so many years is a comfort he’s never known before. However, he’d like to learn and repay it if it’s with you.

#mime bomb #x reader #x you #x yn #carmen sandiego #carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen sandiego 2019 #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen sandeigo netflix #carmen sandeigo #x gn reader

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 8 months

Text

Touch-starved - the cuddle service AU

This is a gift for a very special someone on a very special day - so, everyone, say happy birthday to @sasukimimochi!

I hope you get the best of birthdays today and that you make the best memories! Don't forget that you are cherished by a lot of people and we are all glad to be in your life!

Enjoy!

Warnings: a lot of fluff and slightly suggestive content

Light peeks gently through the gap in the dark curtains, the first warm rays of the morning sun trailing over the blankets covering the two sleeping figures in the large bed. The distant hum of the waking neighborhood filters through the room, birdsong and the occasional indistinct voices, the old motor of the lawnmower the family two houses down refuses to replace, the rare car passing through.

The chill of the night persists despite the sunlight, and warmth beneath the blanket is comforting and familiar, like a little pocket of respite and happiness. And though Lan Wangji has been a morning person ever since he could remember it, leaving his bed right as his body awoke him, today he does not feel like doing so.

In fact, he has not felt like doing so in years - three, today, actually - and he does not mind this change in his routine in the least. If he’s honest, it’s the best part of his day - to wake up holding the love of his life in his arms (in various states of undress, mind you, but that’s for a later time) and be happy he gets to spend another day with him, being his. Being each other’s.

All due to a happy coincidence… and his brother’s scheming. Well, mostly to his brother’s scheming. And though Lan Wangji found his plan ridiculous back then, he’s grateful now.

Because all of three years ago, Lan Xichen made an appointment he couldn’t get to, for a service he definitely didn’t need, using an excuse that was definitely deceitful - and unknowingly sent Lan Wangji into the arms of the love of his life… literally.

–

“A…cuddle service.” Lan Wangji repeats, half incredulous that such a thing exists, half confused his (very much in a relationship) brother rented one.

“Mn, I made the appointment forever ago but I completely forgot about it!”

He looks as unapologetic as one could without leaving the planet. Lan Wangji sends him a suspicious look.

“Anyway, it’s way too late to cancel now, I checked the company policy already…”

How convenient of him, very much knowing that’s the first thing Lan Wangji would’ve done. “And I paid quite a hefty sum for it, it would be a shame for all that money to go to waste…”

As if they aren’t old money.

Lan Wangji’s eyes narrow as he sips at his far too bitter cup of tea. He doesn’t like where this is going and he has a feeling it’s only downhill from here.

“So, I was thinking you could go in my place!” Lan Xichen’s smile brightens, mischief hiding behind the otherwise friendly gesture. Not even he believes any of his words and probably does not even expect Lan Wangji to either - still, he tries. Admirable… kind of. Lying is not admirable, though.

“Am I allowed to refuse?”

“Yes… but I’d hope you wouldn’t.” And Lan Xichen’s demeanor changes to something that could only be described as a pitiful baby animal. “I do not wish my mistake to reflect badly on the person that I picked for your - my appointment.”

Lan Wangji is starting to see how premeditated this all is, though he can only be surprised that such an option even exists. “You picked them.”

“Well, of course. I couldn’t just allow anyone to get close to my - to me!”

Lan Wangji drinks the entirety of his terrible tea as if it was a particularly strong shot of alcohol. Though he does not indulge in that kind of thing, sometimes he wishes he did. Now is one of those moments.

“Then, it’s settled!”

Lan Wangji didn’t get to say yes.

–

Wei Wuxian stirs in Lan Wangji’s arms, and mumbles something that sounds like his name before burrowing further into the sheets and his lover’s chest, covering the bit of his face that the sunlight kisses.

Lan Wangji can’t help a fond smile, indulging Wei Wuxian’s wordless request as he tightens his arms around the man, their legs interlocking beneath the blanket. It’s always a struggle getting out of bed in the morning whenever Lan Wangji has to work, because it always feels tedious to find where Wei Wuxian ends and he begins, a tangled mess of limbs, wild bedheads and love.

It’s a wonderful kind of tedious.

But today is Saturday, so Lan Wangji doesn’t have to go to work - not that he hasn’t taken days off randomly just because he couldn’t bring himself to leave his husband alone in bed… but Lan Wangji feels like if he does it again, his uncle is going to retire off into the mountains and revive the myth of Big Foot.

Lan Wangji leaves a kiss over Wei Wuxian’s forehead, fleeting and soft, and through his sleep-addled mind, Wei Wuxian makes a happy sound, much like a kitten’s chirp. They have adopted a family of kittens recently, and Wei Wuxian has been spending a lot of his time with them, so he must be taking in their mannerisms - the thought brings a sweet, amused flutter to Lan Wangji’s chest, and he kisses Wei Wuxian’s forehead again.

He does pick up on the mannerisms of their pets a lot, now that he thinks about it. Whenever he’s unhappy about something, he scrunches his nose like a scorned baby bunny, and when he’s excited, he hops a little bit in place, just like their bunnies do - and sometimes, when he’s being childish and whiny, he stomps his foot (but laughs immediately after as he realizes).

Lan Wangji feels warmth spread through him, like a little ball of light has replaced his heart and his bloodstream sings with it. Every time he remembers (as if he could forget!) just how much he loves Wei Wuxian, it never fails to make his whole body shiver, electricity climbing up his body in a hurry only to stop in his tear ducts. It overwhelms him, sometimes, and it materializes into happy teardrops - Lan Wangji doesn’t remember when it was the last time he’s cried for anything rather than happiness.

Lan Wangji had expected something like a dingy hotel in a back alley - but the cuddle service location is actually quite nice, a cozy little place near the suburbs. It looks like a very well-kept motel, with a lush garden and homey decor, welcoming if not a little bit stereotypical. There are pictures of smiling people on the walls alongside paintings and the occasional quote about how people have always been meant to be close to one another, social creatures in need of touch and comfort.

The irony does not escape Lan Wangji. A place one pays for affection to speak of how natural it is for humans to seek it.

The receptionist smiles at him in a friendly way, though she appears tired behind her large, mahogany desk. “Room 13, please. Do not be wary of the number.”

Lan Wangji nods. He’s been unlucky enough to get into this situation - him, touch-averse extraordinaire - might as well be stuck in Room 13 for an hour with a stranger he’s supposed to be cuddling with. What else could happen.

Lan Wangji walks the long corridor lined with dark brown, wooden doors, and finds Room 13 at the very end of it. Ominous, despite the warm lighting and the pretty artwork on the walls.

Lan Wangji finds himself staring dumbly at the door. Should he knock? Or just walk in? There could be someone else in there still… it would be rude to interrupt. But then again, it’s not like anything indecent is going on… right? This business isn’t a front for something else, is it?

Lan Wangji sighs. No, his brother wouldn’t send him to a brothel, and this place looks nothing like one. Not that Lan Wangji would know what that would look like, but -

The door opens.

–

“Lan Zhan… it’s so early…” Wei Wuxian whines against his husband’s collarbones, “Your Lan schedule is terrible.”

Lan Wangji hums, suspiciously sounding like a laugh before leaning down to kiss the tops of Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. “Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I like waking up with you.”

“You sound accusatory.” Lan Wangji laughs openly this time, caressing the side of Wei Wuxian’s face gently. He leans into the touch, nuzzling against Lan Wangji’s palm, and he reminds Lan Wangji of one of their kittens again - the black one, with only the tip of its tail white, that Wei Wuxian named Chilli.

“I am being accusatory! Do you know how terrible it is for me to wake up without you here? I nearly die every time!”

Lan Wangji kisses the tip of Wei Wuxian’s nose in response and tries to smooth some of his bedhead (that he caused).

“You’re not taking me seriously, Lan Zhan! You’re laughing! I could die without my daily dose of affection, and you’re laughing!”

He tries (and fails) at holding in a chuckle. “I am not.”

“You are!” And Wei Wuxian pouts, and wraps all the blankets around himself in mock anger, flopping onto his other side, his back now facing Lan Wangji. However, he did quite a poor job cocooning himself, and most of his back has remained uncovered, the soft skin still bearing last night’s marks.

Lan Wangji scoots over, and decides he’s not going to let the opportunity to tease his husband pass him by.

—

“So, you’re my 5pm appointment, right?” A smiling, young man asks, and Lan Wangji’s first thought is that he’s beautiful.

His second thought is that this beautiful man will be in his arms, and he will be in his - and his ears burn as if they’ve been set on fire.

“C’mon, it’s nicer inside, follow me.”

The room is, indeed, nice. There are books on tall shelves, a calligraphy kit on the table, and a few other trinkets - keys, a phone, and some amulets - on a night stand. A bed is placed by a large window overlooking the garden outside, the sheets dark red, and incense burns from the windowsill. Soft music plays from somewhere in the room - and Lan Wangji finds this place a lot more intimate and… romantic than he’s expected.

“By the way, my name’s Wei Wuxian, but you can call me Wei Ying.” He grins, and Lan Wangji once again finds himself thinking how beautiful he is. “You must be Lan Wangji, then, otherwise I took someone else’s client.”

Lan Wangji realizes two things: one, Lan Xichen is a filthy liar, the appointment was never in his name; and two, he doesn’t like the word client.

Still, he nods to confirm his name, and Wei Wuxian smiles, noting something down in a notebook on his desk - of course, this is a business after all, employees must keep a registry of their… visitors. Weird how easy it is for Lan Wangji to forget this, and he’s only been here for 5 minutes.

“Right, so,” Wei Wuxian begins, closing down the notebook, “I’m guessing this is your first time here, right?”

“Mn.”

“Well, how about we sit on the bed and get to know each other a little bit first?”

–

Lan Wangji leans down to kiss a trail down Wei Wuxian’s spine, delighting in the gasp he lets out and the goosebumps that bloom on his skin.

“Go away, I’m angry with you.”

His words carry no bite, and Lan Wangji finds them more adorable than threatening, so he doesn’t obey, wrapping a strong arm around Wei Wuxian’s waist, now kissing down the side of his neck, deliberately pressing harder on the kisses he’s left there the night before.

Wei Wuxian tries to keep in any reaction, but his breaths come out shaky no matter his attempts, and when Lan Wangji finally bites him, finding the tiniest unmarked place on his shoulder, Wei Wuxian moans and arches into it.

“Doesn’t seem all that angry to me.” Lan Wangji comments as he lets go, and Wei Wuxian glares at him over his shoulder.

Lan Wangji finds it in himself to wink in response and bites him again.

–

“Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

“I’m not… knowledgeable in these matters.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, the sound melodious, unbridled. “Knowledgeable! What a word to use! This isn’t an exam, you know? Relax a little!”

Lan Wangji huffs, flustered, and looks away and out the window. He feels Wei Wuxian poke at his cheek. “Why are you being like this? Didn’t you book me?”

“No. My brother did.”

Wei Wuxian laughs again. “Then he must’ve thought we were a good match, right? Work with me here, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji feels so embarrassed he could die. In fact he hopes he does, maybe the ground opens wide and he falls in some endless hole inside the Earth. “Well, I’ve never…done this before.”

“I know, we’ve already…” but the way Lan Wangji stubbornly refuses to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes and clenches his fists on his knees, ears red, finally click in Wei Wuxian’s mind. “Wait, you’ve never cuddled anyone before?”

“...no. Do not make fun of me.”

Wei Wuxian pats his head as if to comfort a crying child. “I would never! But lucky for you, I’m the best person to take your cuddle-virginity!”

“Wei Ying!!”

–

“You know a bite or two won’t get me less angry with you.” Wei Wuxian tries, but the arousal in his voice melts away any of his (rather poor) acting.

“What would, then?”

“I don’t know, figure it out. Grovel a little.”

Lan Wangji sneaks a hand underneath the mess of blankets that Wei Wuxian has bunched over himself, a clear destination in mind.

“Should I beg for forgiveness now?”

Wei Wuxian’s response is lost in a helpless moan, and Lan Wangji feels like biting him again.

He does.

–

“You’re stiff as a board.” Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue (and he has no idea how right he is, actually) as he tries to position himself and Lan Wangji in a simple, sideways hug, “Try to relax. Would you like another pillow or something?”

“No.”

“Alright…”

He wraps an arm around Lan Wangji’s waist, and their bodies are so close now that Lan Wangji can smell his perfume and see all the details of his beautiful face, the few freckles dotting his cheeks and the specks of color in his dark grey eyes.

“For someone that’s so embarrassed to even put a hand around my shoulders, you sure like eye contact.”

Lan Wangji hasn’t even realized he’s staring, and he tries to look away but it seems like, for some reason, all that he can pay attention to is Wei Wuxian.

And, as difficult it is for him to be so physically close to somebody, it feels right with Wei Wuxian somehow - like he’s safe and comfortable… no wonder this is his job. His presence is soothing, he knows how to be exactly the way Lan Wangji needs (even when Lan Wangji himself has no idea what he needs).

“Is there something you’d like to talk about? Or do you just want us to sit in silence?”

“What do you usually do?”

“Well, it depends on the person. I’m fine with anything. I’m a pretty good conversationalist, if I do say so myself.”

If Lan Wangji could describe his smile, it would feel like…

“Why are you… working here?”

“You’re asking me like I’m a prostitute or something.” Wei Wuxian pouts, playfully, before he takes on a more serious stance. “But to answer your question, it’s because I want to help people. I find that a lot of us have a hard time asking for affection, especially the physical kind. Especially the kind that’s not a prerequisite for sex. It’s vulnerable and it feels weird to ask for it, as if you’re being needy or demanding - so, for some, it’s easier to accept it if they pay for it.” He reaches to tuck a strand of hair away from Lan Wangji’s face. “There are also people that are too busy or uninterested in relationships, but still want affection, and they visit every now and then to take what they need.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” He smiles, “I’m a very touchy person and I love hugs and cuddles, so I’m always ready to share some. Of course, some people are rude or misunderstand the purpose of this service, but that’s rare. Often, I get people that need a listening ear and a hug.” A teasing look, “And the occasional fuddy-duddy, like you.”

Lan Wangji pinches him, and Wei Wuxian yelps from the feeling of it, but also the joy that Lan Wangji is finally opening up to him.

“Now that you’ve asked me questions, I should get to ask you something too, right?”

“Mn…”

“So, why’d your brother think you need me?”

Probably because you’re everything I didn’t know I wanted in a partner - but Lan Wangji doesn’t say that, because it’s creepy since they’ve only just met (not to mention, this is a service, not an actual date or anything like that, so Wei Wuxian has to be like with everyone), and also because it’s too embarrassing to utter such words out loud.

“I… am uncomfortable with physical touch, and I need to work through that.”

Wei Wuxian sends him a sympathetic look. “I get that. You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable, but did something… cause that?”

“My mother was very physically affectionate when I was young… but then she passed away unexpectedly and affection felt… empty without her.”

Wei Wuxian lets go of Lan Wangji’s waist to take one of his hands in his, comfortingly. “That sounds heavy… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories…”

“It happened a long time ago. I am working through it.”

“If you want me to let go of you at any time, let me know, okay?”

“I do not.”

—

Wei Wuxian is done pretending to be angry at his husband, turning his head to kiss him in what he hopes is more than a mess of lips and tongue. He should be excused, considering he’s currently being thoroughly wrecked by said husband, so he doesn’t worry too much about whether he’s doing well.

He’s run out of mental space for that, all he can focus on is the pleasure Lan Wangji is giving him so relentlessly, and, to be honest, he can’t find it in himself to care about anything else. It’s mind-numbingly good, and if Wei Wuxian ends up screaming his orgasm out loud enough for the neighbors to call the police on suspicion of domestic violence, then so be it.

—

Lan Wangji finally finds the courage in himself to place his arm over Wei Wuxian’s waist, a mirror of the other’s gesture. It feels… foreign, but not unpleasant, and he finds himself dragging his body closer to the other’s.

“See? It’s not that bad.”

“Quiet.”

“I’ve been harping on about myself forever now, it’s your turn. Tell me something I would have never guessed by looking at you.”

“I can play the guqin.”

“That’s really cool, though you do kind of look like someone sophisticated enough to be able to do that.”

Lan Wangji’s ears pink up.

“Try again.”

“I spend a lot of my free time in the gym.”

Wei Wuxian smiles in a way lan Wangji has learned is mischievous and teasing. “Not hard to guess, with this muscle I can feel. Try again.”

Lan Wangji decides not to address the new compliment and continues. “I can cook very well.”

“Really? You look like the kind of guy that has a private chef.”

“My brother does. I personally enjoy cooking.”

“I like to cook as well, though I’m told my food isn’t edible because it’s really spicy.”

“I do not handle spice well.”

“What a shame, everyone needs some spice in their life! I bet I could cook you something that would make you fall in love with spice!”

–

It’s far too hot under the blankets now, after the strenuous activities that just transpired, so Lan Wangji has opened the window to let fresh air in. Unfortunately, the sound of the neighbors’ old lawnmower does not make for pleasant background noise.

“We should gift them a new lawnmower for Christmas or something, that thing sounds like a Diesel motor with tuberculosis!”

It’s a funny description, although it is very accurate. Wei Wuxian stretches his limbs, and flops into the bedsheets like a starfish. “One more day and we can finally bring A-Yuan home! I can’t believe I’m excited for a Monday!”

Lan Wangji feels that overwhelming warmth in his chest again, the thought of his and Wei Wuxian’s family becoming complete filling him with joy beyond words. A-Yuan fits right into their home, into their hearts, and so adopting him has been a long, though pleasant journey where they all got to know each other and build trust and love to last forever.

Lan Wangji’s heart feels so full as he imagines him and Wei Wuxian raising the boy, and living through the simplest of days together in their domestic bliss.

He has always wanted this, a family he could provide for and love, his own safe place in the world, away from everything else. Soon, he will receive it.

The sound of scratching and meowing at the door interrupts Lan Wangji’s musings. Wei Wuxian laughs from his comfortable spot on the bed. “Looks like the babies are awake. And hungry.”

Lan Wangji redresses and puts his hair up. “When aren’t they hungry?”

“I don’t know. But I am hungry too!”

–

“Brother, I am never going there again.” Lan Wangji declares as he returns from the cuddle service appointment.

Lan Xichen raises a curious eyebrow. “Was it that unpleasant?”

“It was not. But I am not going.”

A wide grin stretches across Lan Xichen’s features. “Wangji.”

“Quiet. No.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you-”

“Someone’s got a crush!”

—

Lan Wangji returns to his and Wei Wuxian’s bedroom about half an hour later, carrying a generous tray of breakfast choices, alongside coffee and tea. Wei Wuxian kisses him softly as thanks before digging in, and Lan Wangji is only a bit jealous.

“What would you like to do today?” Lan Wangji asks, as he drinks his morning tea.

“Stay in bed with you.” Wei Wuxian replies, as he flirtatiously bites into a piece of strawberry.

Lan Wangji pulls him into a kiss and steals the piece of fruit from right between his lips.

“You make everything taste sweet.”

Wei Wuxian turns red. “Lan Zhan!”

–

“Lan Zhan, we need to talk.” Wei Wuxian starts as Lan Wangji walks through the door for yet another cuddle appointment, his streak having long reached double digits.

“What is it?”

“You’re spending a lot here - time, money… why? It’s - you can just ask me to meet outside work, we’re basically friends by now-“

“I don’t want to be friends…”

Wei Wuxian’s face falls, but he controls his expression once he realizes it. “Yes, I’m sorry, um, I was presumptuous, I didn’t mean to imply there was something more and…”

Lan Wangji pulls him into a kiss, and Wei Wuxian is all too eager to return it.

“I don’t want to be friends. I want to be more.”

–

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji do have an anniversary date, the date they got married - but to Lan Wangji, they have another one as well: the day of his first cuddle service appointment, when he walked through the doors of the establishment expecting to come out the same as he went in. Oh, how wrong he had been to think so!

And how glad he is to have been proven otherwise!

Holding Wei Wuxian in his arms, long retired from his job as a cuddle provider, watching some romantic comedy as they snack on takeout, Lan Wangji realizes just how great it is to be wrong sometimes.

And how everything in his life now feels right.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts

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lovetositinsilence · 6 months

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How About a Slice of Pie?

The day Loki realized he was in love with Mobius while eating a disgusting slice of pie.

Loki x Mobius Words: 1,132 Tags: not sure how to tag this, it's just a self-indulgent cute thing, really. Loki is recovering from traumas. He also really wants to kiss Mobius. But we're not there yet. Just Loki thinking a lot Notes: just a little introspective piece about Loki's thoughts after the " Come on, you're the God of Mischief". I haven't been writing for a long time but I couldn't get his smile out of my head. This is the first time I post a fanfic here so I hope you'll enjoy this too <3

“Well, come on.” Mobius leaned a bit closer to Loki. “You’re the God of Mischief!”

Loki tilted his head and put the softest smile on. He needed to be reminded from time to time that he was, in fact, the God of Mischief. The one God those old myths and tales talked about, one of the most powerful deities in the Norse pantheon, one who was prayed to, feared, and admired. There was a voice in his head – and many more outside, but he didn’t struggle to ignore them as much – that did everything in its power to make him forget this. Being a loser was easier than trying to convince everyone and himself of being capable of more.

With his divine nature came the inevitable consequence of doing harm. It was just something X-5 – now Brad, apparently – said to provoke him, Loki knew that, but it wouldn’t have burned as deeply in his soul if it wasn’t something he repeated to himself every single day like a mantra, a memento of what he did to Thor, to his mother, to all those people, and a constant warning of what he could do to Mobius and everyone who rashly chose to be near him. He knew Brad was right, but then why? Why did Mobius seem not to care?

Loki’s gaze didn’t move from the man across the table – on one hand as a tacit thank you, on the other for the inability to do so. He found an unfamiliar warmth in the icy blue eyes in front of him, almost addicting. Those eyes that lit up in excitement for the unfamiliar, that crinkled at the edges with the joy of exploration, that were always eager to know more. How could they belong to a man satisfied with a dull life in a barren place like that? Mobius blabbered about going to the sea and owning a jet-ski so many times that Loki assumed he wouldn’t have thought twice about giving up the monotony of the TVA to reclaim the life he was denied. And yet there he was, “thanking the guy who got him that pie”.

Did he mean Loki? Why would Mobius thank him of all people, after everything he had done? Loki was unredeemable. What he deserved was to be alone, not to eat a probably-not-edible pie he was pretending to be enjoying in the company of a man who was putting his future – if a “future” even existed at the TVA – in Loki’s hands. He shattered everything Mobius believed in, he showed him the truth, but at what cost? Did Mobius want to see what laid behind the perfect facade the TVA carved out with so much care? He’d never asked, nor did he ever apologize.

Loki’s eyes remained fixed on Mobius, those eyes full of respect and admiration and-

There was something else, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t knowing that the man in front of him put all his trust in someone who didn’t deserve any, it wasn’t understanding the frustration of letting emotions take the reins, it wasn’t even the fuzzy feeling that the subtle praise suddenly caused. It was something more, something warmer. Something that made that nauseating gelatinous pie a bit more bearable.

He had experienced something similar in the past, although not identical. It happened when he and Sylvie shared a blanket on Lamentis. The feeling of having someone close, who understands, who is ready to fight against the world simply because you are by their side. However, he soon realized that was not what Sylvie wanted. When she shoved him through that time door he felt once again the world he was arduously putting together crumble into pieces, his only certainty slipping from his hand like a dagger he couldn’t properly wield.

He called it love. Later, he realized that perhaps it was not the proper word. Sympathy, maybe. Affection. Understanding. What he loved about Sylvie were those parts of her that echoed his own: the despair and resentment for all those years of isolation, of anger, of failure. He wanted to show her that she deserved happiness, despite her worst mistakes.

He needed to love and to be loved, to heal from a life of indifference. But Sylvie couldn’t give that to him. She sought revenge at a level Loki had seen and experienced before, a level he wasn’t ready to face again. He learned to push that hunger aside for his own sanity because he knew what it did if allowed to feast on your grudges. It consumed you to your very being, a blind and merciless beast, insatiable, relentless even through death.

Despite it all, what he learned from his time with Sylvie was that his worst sides didn’t make him unworthy of love. Yet, it took time to recover from a thousand years of rejection, and the question tormented him: why would Mobius enjoy being around him? That he didn’t know. But one thing was for sure. He enjoyed being around Mobius.

He enjoyed not having to fret over his past, he enjoyed knowing he could show his true self and his power without scaring him off, he simply enjoyed talking to him.

Perhaps the word he earlier used improperly finally found its true meaning.

Love.

The last time he was asked about love he babbled about a dagger, some metaphorical nonsense that came to his mind on the spot to prove what a good orator he was. But maybe it wasn’t that dumb, maybe love really was like a dagger. One you need to learn how to use before losing your grip, and only once you’ve mastered it you get to choose whether to use it for good or evil.

Loki got to choose. He had a choice because he realized he was not unforgivable, he was not his father’s lies, he was not his worst mistakes. He could be a villain, but that wasn’t all. He realized he could be anything. He was not doomed.

He could be the hero of the story, he could even be a good brother one day, he could be trusted. Maybe he was capable of more.

Eventually, Loki returned to his dessert. While the pie obviously hadn’t changed on its own, Loki could have sworn it didn’t taste as bad as before. He might have just gotten used to it by that time, or maybe Mobius’ words sweetened it a little.

You’re the God of Mischief, he said. And Loki was pleased to be reminded.

Loki was the God of Mischief.

He now knew that he was capable of something surprising, enough to remind himself that he wasn’t condemned. Something his family had tried to teach him many times, but he was never able to learn.

He was capable of love.

#low key scared to post this hhh #loki #fanfic #loki fanfic #lokius #mobius #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #loki fanfiction

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empty-fantasies · 1 year

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The Language of Flowers with Genshin Impact Characters

A series of small little ramblings of different flowers i associate with a few characters along with some scenarios! This is my first piece for the Genshin Impact fandom and feedback would be very much appreciated!

Characters Included: Thoma, Ayato Kamisato, and Kaveh

gn!reader, mostly fluff

Thoma - Edelweiss

No matter the circumstances, the flower does not wilt easily.

It surprises you. Truly it does. The way Thoma has always carried himself, honest and earnest in his intentions towards others. Beaming like the sun no matter what life had thrown at him before. Your heart clenches every time you are gifted with one of his pure smiles. How did you end up on the receiving end of his hugs and kisses? You wondered about many things, mulling them over in silence on sleepless nights, afraid to voice such concerns for you always called them foolish ones. Your heart was never a fickle one, but it was surely a fussy one.

Doubts were expected, especially for an over thinker like you. You questioned many things, wavering and uncertain at times. However, there was one thing that remained consistent; devotion.

Never had you questioned Thoma’s love. Though hesitantly placing your heart in his hands, you needed no words to see how truly devoted he was to cherishing and protecting your fragile heart with all he could do. Those doubts that cloud your mind are always chased away by warm fingertips that gently cup your face. Soft, emerald eyes awaiting for your gaze to finally turn to him. Silently, he hopes that you remain unaware of what you do to his own heart. When you do finally look up, it is only seconds before you are burying your face in the crook of his neck as he laughs. It is not mocking—far from it, actually. It’s reassuring. A sound that gives away the fondness that drives his actions.

Thoma, who embodied faithfulness, would always remind you that it was he who holds your heart and you his. Through faint kisses speckled across your cheeks to home-cooked meals that bring all the comfort you need after a stressful day, you’d never question the devotion Thoma has for you alone.

The edelweiss symbolizes devotion. It is known as the eternal flower for it does not wither easily despite the tough conditions it grows in. Despite that, it is hard to truly get your hands on one of these flowers for they reside high up in the alps.

Ayato Kamisato - Gardenia

Love born in secret; blooming quietly underneath the moonlight of silent nights. It is no surprise that there are many secrets that the head of the Kamisato Clan prefers to keep to himself. Hidden underneath calculated mirth and mischief is a soul that seeks out gentleness that was taken away from him in his youth. Perhaps that’s why he readily accepts your touch behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.

Instinctively, he’s seeking out that close proximity; one that allows him to melt in your presence as well as to tease you. He always enjoyed your reactions. Pouting and scolding him for sending your heart aflame from sugar-coated words. Soft giggles echoing and causing him to pause for a moment to take in the way your lips turn upward and the way your eyes crinkle at the corners. He wonders for a moment. Thinking to himself, he questions the fondness that causes his heart to skip a beat. Why does he desperately want to shield you away from the cruel world? Then, it hits him.

Because you are the epitome of purity and gentleness.

The one he has been seeking for so long. The one he can truly let his guard down after so long. Patience is a virtue and he appreciates loyalty. One wouldn’t be in your place by his side if they were neither. So let him indulge in these small moments. Let him selfishly keep you in his arms for a moment longer, reassuring you that there is no need to worry. Let him bask in the warmth you provide him, leaning into your touch unconsciously because he feels safe in your presence. Let him steal a few kisses, teasing and mischievous as expected.

Let him protect you. A flower full of innocence touched by the hands that have buried many secrets of the cruel world underneath a worn and tired smile.

Purity and protection; the gardenia serves as a reminder of gentleness. A renewal of hope—these flowers require patience and dedication. One cannot simply leave them alone in hopes that they’ll thrive just fine.

Kaveh - Plumeria

He’s constantly taking your breath away. Your heart crashes—burning fiercely just like that ruby red gaze filled with unspoken love and admiration. While you hesitate, he’s firm in his affection. Hands, sometimes littered with paper cuts from sleepless nights, are gentle in their approach to you, but you wouldn’t question his love once his touch made contact. It’s instinct now to lean in slightly and to breathe a sigh of relief, allowing your rapidly beating heart to calm. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to match his level of

“Have I done enough?” You ask, closing your eyes. Kaveh does not respond initially, taking in your troubled expression before he’s suddenly laughing at the thought of how cute you look.

It’s a reassuring one, however. One that has you leaning in once more. He wants you to know . It should be him asking if he has done enough for why would you ask such a question? Thoughts stream in one after another, threatening to send him into a spiral of if’s and maybe’s. Has he done enough? Your gaze wavers and he frowns at this. Has he done enough?

He’s ready to do anything for you. Always willing to give all he has if it meant you would be happy. Forsaking himself to a fate that contradicts his beliefs in him being undeserving of happiness due to the past. Willingly, he hands you his own heart, sealing his love for you with a chaste kiss to your forehead. He’s curious if you can see the strings he’s purposely tied around it, wondering whether or not you snap them or gently unravel them with your silent reassurance that you’d do the same, hoping that he too wouldn’t drop your heart in front of you.

“You’ve done more than enough,” Kaveh begins, hands carefully cradling your face so you wouldn’t turn away. “My muse, my love; it is you who breathes life into me—revitalizing my heart after each and every misfortune the archons throw at me.”

The plumeria is both the beginning of creation and recreation. A symbol of charm and beauty but also purity and rebirth. It is intense in all aspects, leaving one in overwhelming awe at its resilience to life’s challenges. It is devotion, running deep and sealing away a promise of love for a lifetime.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kamisato ayato #genshin impact thoma #genshin impact ayato #genshin kaveh #thoma x reader #ayato x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x reader

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melacka · 4 months

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Calendiles Secret Santa 2023

Hello @snails-in-my-mouth! I am your Calendiles Secret Santa and I have written a S2 fic filled with workplace banter and flirting. Wishing you and yours a very happy and safe holiday season, and I hope you enjoy your gift!

Title: take my love and wear it by Melacka

Summary: Giles and Jenny suffer through a Sunnydale High staff meeting with banter, innuendo and spilled tea.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1314 words

Read it on AO3 here or under the cut!

Rupert Giles had learned to hate the weekly staff meetings that Principal Snyder had implemented at the start of his tenure. They rarely included any truly useful information and would more often than not devolve into snide commentary and petty asides traded between teachers who barely interacted otherwise. Sometimes he tried to make the time pass quicker by entertaining himself with ideas of the various cliques and groups forming within the faculty, but that only took him so far, given the frequency of the blasted meetings. And so over time he had simply resigned himself to indulging in his hatred of the meetings, quietly seething in a corner until he was released to do his actual job.

That all changed, of course, when Jenny Calendar became more of a fixture in his life. Jenny was an enthusiastic participant in the staff meetings, and she had a habit of positioning herself directly opposite Giles, seemingly for no other reason than so that she could throw amused glances his way. In the last staff meeting before the winter break, however, she chose to sit right next to him. He looked up at her in surprise when she sat down.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked. “I can find another chair if—”

“I don’t mind at all,” Giles said quickly. “Please, join me.”

“Do you have any plans for the break?”

Giles stared at her in surprise. The only plans he had for the break was to spend as much of it as possible with her, and she knew it. They had discussed at length their plans for a sort of hibernation at his place, free from the distractions of the world.

“I have some plans,” he said cautiously, looking around the room. “I hoped to spend some time with a friend.”

“Time with friends is so important,” Jenny agreed solemnly. “Where would we be without our friends?”

“Indeed. And you? Do you have any plans?”

“Oh, I have a few things lined up. There are a few things I’ve just been dying to try.”

“I hope the break offers you the opportunity to try all that you wish.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she murmured. “Your co-operation with be vital, Rupert”

She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes alive with mischief when she looked at him over the rim of her cup. His lips twitched in response, and he hurriedly took a sip of tea, wincing when the person on his other side jostled his elbow as they sat down. Giles sighed as he dabbed ineffectually at the drop of tea now staining his trousers.

“Be careful,” Jenny said, offering him a napkin with a smile, “these staff meetings can get a little rough sometimes.”

He waved away the napkin and gave the stain one last despairing glance, before he turned his attention back to his companion.

“I’ll be sure to keep my guard up against any potential attacks,” he said, trying to inject a little humour into his tone.

“Oh good, I’d hate for something to happen to you.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve barely begun to enjoy our time together, Rupert, it would be a tragedy for you to be taken from me due to fatal inattention at a staff meeting. This is Sunnydale, after all. Anything could happen.”

This surprised a laugh out of him, and she grinned.

“Should I arm myself before attending next time? I do have quite a cache of weapons in the library.”

“Don’t you worry about drawing undue attention to yourself at these things?”

“I suppose a crossbow would give the wrong impression.”

“On the contrary,” she said, grinning, “it would give the right impression.”

“That I seek to commit violence against my colleagues?”

“Merely that you are open to violence against your colleagues, given the right provocation. It prays on my mind, Rupert, really it does.”

She took another sip of coffee, and her eyes held a challenge now.

“Rest assured, I will endeavour to avoid unnecessary violence so that you may continue to enjoy all the benefits of our association. I would so hate to deprive you of something you enjoy, Jenny.”

Jenny tilted her head and regarded him carefully, a strangely tender expression on her face. Giles raised an eyebrow in question, and she shook her head slightly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just caught up in thinking about all the potential benefits of our association,” she said quietly, doing a truly terrible impression of him. “But what can you expect, engaging in such sexually charged innuendo in the workplace? I truly am shocked.”

Giles, who had chanced another sip of his tea, nearly choked on it. Jenny offered him the napkin again for the fresh drops of tea on his trousers and he waved it away again, red-faced from embarrassment.

“Jenny,” he gasped, looking around to see if anyone had overheard.

“Shh, Rupert, I’m only teasing.”

“Yes, I know, that’s the point!”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“Never,” he answered honestly.

“Not such a fuddy-duddy after all, huh?”

“I have it on good authority that I’m a sexy fuddy-duddy, actually,” he returned, leaning in as close as he dared while surrounded by so many people. “I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or—”

“Oh, it’s a very good thing, Rupert,” Jenny interrupted, her voice dropping low. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Unfortunately, Principal Snyder chose that moment to call the meeting to order and they pulled away from each other to resume a more appropriate distance. Giles took another sip of his tea and tried not to scowl. Jenny turned to face Principal Snyder with a look of bland interest on her face, but she spent the duration of the meeting running her foot up and down Giles’ leg under the table. It really was deliciously distracting.

Giles couldn’t remember a more enjoyable staff meeting.

When they were finally free to leave, by unspoken agreement they allowed most of their colleagues to wander out before they made a move.

“Did you enjoy the meeting, Mr Giles?” Jenny asked mildly as he held the door open for her. “You seemed a little distracted at one point, I do hope you didn’t miss anything important.”

“Impossible,” Giles murmured as he fell into step beside her. “In order for me to miss something important, there would need to be something of import at one of those ridiculous meetings. I regret to say, that there has been no such thing.”

“Not even the ongoing feud between Mr Irwin and Ms Talbot?” Jenny said, her tone amused. “They seem to think it’s important, at least.”

“Perhaps they just enjoy the attention,” Giles replied absently. “Why else would they seek to have the same argument in front of their colleagues every single week?”

“Maybe they’re in a long-standing secret relationship and all the fighting is just a ruse to throw us off the scent?”

Giles smiled as they approached her classroom, and he reached out to open the door for her.

“Do you suppose there is a lot of that going on?” he asked quietly. “Secret relationships disguised by public vitriol?”

Jenny shrugged and tossed her things carelessly onto her desk. Then she spun around and pushed him against the door, laughing at his grunt of surprise.

“I’ve never understood the need for vitriol, Rupert,” she said, leaning into his space and tilting her face up invitingly. “Our secret relationship has always had more than enough fuel without resorting to vitriol.”

“Not even when we were arguing over the relative merits of books and your awful machines?”

“That wasn’t vitriol, it was simply a difference of opinion between colleagues. Now are you going to kiss me or am I going to have to—”

Giles didn’t wait to hear what she was planning to do as he closed the gap between them and kissed her firmly.

#calendiles secret santa 2023 #btvs #giles x jenny #btvs fanfiction #calendiles

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kilikina34512 · 2 years

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Masterlist

This is a comprised list of my stories that I’ve posted. Most will be links to AO3, where I post my one-shots and (hopefully in the future) series, but drabbles or quick little somethings I whip up will be posted here.

Please note: asterisk* stories are for the 18+ readers. If you are a minor, don’t read these!

Bucky Barnes:

When The Spy Gets Caught

fem!reader - I should’ve known taking a bet from Tony Stark was a bad idea. Now, I’m face to face with the Bucky Barnes, and I have something he wants back. And judging by the intense, lustful look in his eyes, I’m going to pay for trying to take it.

Never Going Out of Style*

fem!reader - A first date with one James Barnes turns from a dream date into a perfect, steamy night.

What Did You Do?

fem!OC - Bucky gets in trouble with his wife for letting his son bring a dog home.

The Day He Met His Daughter

fem!reader - After you nearly bleed to death after delivery, Bucky spends time with his newborn daughter recounting the day’s events while waiting for you to wake up.

No One Harms What’s Mine

Mafia!Bucky x fem!reader - Your fiancé Bucky promises that his meeting will be a safe one, only for him to come home injured. Due to the fear you feel, Bucky sees a side of you that he hadn’t before.

Like Father, Like Son

fem!reader - One argument between Sam and Bucky's sons show just how much like their fathers they really are.

Get A Room

fem!reader - After work put you through the wringer, Bucky makes sure to treat your body just right to have you relaxed and pliant beneath him.

Ten Days

fem!reader - Following a new diagnosis, you avoid Bucky and the rest of the Avengers in fear that they won't accept how your life has to change because of it.(Slight self-hate trigger warning.)

Please Series*

fem! omega!reader - A collection of stories about alpha Bucky and his 'Mega.

A Siren's Call*

fem!reader - It's late and your body is starving. It's taken all night until you stumble upon the perfect meal - James. A tall, hunky, metal-armed man that looks like he needs a distraction as bad as you need a night of pleasure. Why not compel him to indulge in just that?

Stucky:

A Taste of Home

fem!reader - When the boys come home from a mission, you decide to treat them by giving them a reminder of home.

Remember Me By

ng!reader - It’s the first mission your boys have gone on since you started dating and you wanted to give them both parting gifts.

Steve Rogers:

The Catalyst

fem!OC - Walking home, Chloe and her daughter, Emerson, end up in a dangerous situation. Will Steve be able to get them out of it in time or will disaster strike?

Cupcake and Fireworks

ng!reader - Steve’s been gone from home, from you, for far too long. He doesn’t care that he’s finally getting home on his birthday, Independence Day, or that Tony really wanted to throw a party for him. All he wants is to be home with you. Little did he know that he would be walking right into a mess instead.

Loki:

A Small Bump on the Knee

fem!OC - Enjoying a day out shopping with his wife, Loki is startled when someone collides with his leg. This sudden and surprising encounter could just be what leads the God of Mischief onto his next adventure.

Aiden’s Special Potion (Continuation of A Small Bump on the Knee)

fem!OC - Loki’s new son, Aiden, has a nightmare. Loki gets a moment for just the two of them as he helps put Aiden back to sleep.

Loki Visits Norway

fem!OC - The gods visit a clan in Norway and Loki can’t help but be taken by one of the women he sees.

Cease This Temper Tantrum

fem!reader - As you guard Loki, you get fed up with his rantings and decide to put him in his place by giving him what he needs.

Have Some Tea

mom!reader - In an attempt to copy her father's habits, your daughter has what equates to an impromptu tea party with the King's diplomatic convoy.

Loki Meets Peter

fem!reader - Loki comes back to the compound only to meet Spiderman. Basically, Peter being Peter and Loki's reaction to it.

Falling in Love Just a Little Bit

fem!OC - The mortal Loki can't help but admire puts him unknowingly further under her spell (a Valentine's Day short one-shot).

#masterlist

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kissporsche · 2 years

Note

Sending from my main cuz tumblr is being rude about me sideblog still but THOUGHTSSSS

Thinking of how Macau was going with Vegas to the temple and how he was most likely just being a supportive sibling indulging his brother in his new interest. Even if he suspected the interest was only part of a scheme, although he couldn't tell exactly what the scheme was. Maybe he planned to sleep through the sermon anyway. Or maybe he thought he'd be making merits with Vegas so at least the two of them had each other in the next life when they were finally outside of the mafia bullshit. Did it matter to him? How aware was he of Vegas' interest in Pete beforehand? Did they talk about the moment from episode 6 after Vegas finished teasing Pete with the condom - did they have a naughty chuckle over it or did Macau pretend to laugh while he noticed more going on than his brother realized? Was his interruption of Pete's spying something Vegas urged him to do or did he decide to push both of them into a room together and watch what happened? If he planned on being the one to originally make merits did he mind giving that spot over to Pete? Did he still think Vegas had a real plan after that? Macau is so interesting because he is presented as chill except when he has to be involved with the family business, but even then we see him so little. I wanna get in this kid's brain!

MADDI MADS MAD MADDI!!!!!!!!!!

This is what I ADORE about Macau okay, he and Vegas spend so much time just hanging out? Like we know Macau comes to the family meetings, but apart from that he doesn't seem to be involved in the family business. He just likes chilling with his big brother, from the convo in episode 6 we hear the tail end of he's either getting a bit of business gossip or Vegas is just saying some bullshit because he knows they're being tailed and Macau is nodding along for the banter.

Vegas and Macau's relationship is so wonderful, because clearly Vegas will sometimes ask Macau to do pretty innocuous things (like apologise to Porsche) and Macau just goes ahead and does it, because he loves his big brother and even if he has no idea what he's up to he enjoys causing a little bit of chaos in a low-stakes, teenager kind of way (almost certainly as opposed to the things Vegas was having to do at his age, that he's now actively shielding him from BUT is also keeping him close and in the loop enough that he doesn't feel excluded and lashes out because of it. Vegas is managing to keep Macau at just the right distance so that he isn't in (too much) danger from either others, their father, or himself. It means they're obviously close but at the same time Macau isn't someone Vegas can really confide in. Because he's trying to save Macau from turning out the same way he did.)

So Vegas says he wants to start going to the temple and Macau says, hey sure why not, this is either a new interest (he already has enough religious iconography up after all, might as well put his money where his mouth is), or like you say he assumes it's part of a scheme but either way he gets to be involved in Vegas's life, so what can it hurt?

I think Macau doesn't really give a shit about the sermon, and probably knows Vegas doesn't either. They both give off the vibe that they're there for Mischief purposes, although I would ABSOLUTELY love to see a version of that scene where they go to the temple aiming to cause chaos and actually end up taking the merit making seriously because what you said about them wanting to meet each other in the next life again made me tear up :( (you can't just 'in our next life let's be brothers again' me like that). I don't think there's any resentment over Pete getting that instead, because going to the temple with Vegas was about spending time with his brother more than anything else, and getting an insight into his life. And however much of that scene Macau saw (can we assume from the epilogue that Macau has a habit of faking being asleep in order to eavesdrop?) it sure DID give him an insight into his brother's life!

okay lets go chronologically because you made me realise that Macau was close enough by in episode 6 to see Vegas do his whole "SORRY I LEFT MY HUGE CONDOMS FOR MY MASSIVE SCHLONG IN YOUR BAG OF PRODUCT PLACEMENT BREAD, WANT TO FUCK ME ABOUT IT?" (god i love this show) schtick which is simply the cringiest thing ever. And he also would have been there when Vegas BOUGHT that stuff and you can bet he was such a little shit about it. Vegas is trying to be all scary and sexy but five minutes earlier he was trying to keep a straight face while paying the cashier because Macau was absolutely HOWLING with laughter behind him. Sir, the cringefail of it all.

But oh I love the idea of Vegas walking away from the car with a stupid smirk on his face and Macau noticing and asking "are you smiling?" as a tease, and Vegas immediately wiping the smile off his face and telling him to shut up.

Because THEN at the temple, Macau sees that SAME bodyguard again! Isn't that fun?

And his beloved bastard big bro asks him to help get Pete into the sermon with them ("Oh, so his name is Pete?" "What are you mumbling about?" "Nothing, nothing.") Macau... isn't stupid. He knows his brother, he knows he's volatile and violent and broken, and he knows damn well that there's nothing he can really do about that. So when Vegas asks him for his help? He's never going to refuse him. More likely that he jumps at the chance and it doesn't matter at all to him what Vegas's intentions are, as long as he can help his older brother in any small way, any way at all, how he knows Vegas quietly helps him all the time. He will take that opportunity.

Doesn't mean he won't tease the hell out of him for it at the same time though. Because- I think we overlook the fact that as soon as Pete leaves to pour away the water Vegas has to shake Macau awake, hurriedly scribble a homoerotic post-it note, and then run away from the temple, teen brother in tow. Because Pete didn't take THAT long having his little horny existential crisis. Bitch would have had to powerwalk at least to be totally out of sight by the time he got back. The image of Macau tapping his foot, reading the note over Vegas's shoulder and "Are you leaving the bodyguard a love note?" "It's not a- it's a threat." "Right, right. And you feeling him up, was that a threat too?"

Basically, baby boy would be hype as hell to 1- be involved in his Vegas's life in any fashion; 2- actually get to help Vegas in his schemes; and 3- be a total little shit about Vegas's flirting/intimidation combo techniques, because it's honestly hysterical imagining the aftermath of these scenes when Macau is just... also there. Shit eating grin on his face, and Vegas the big bad mafia heir has to endure being teased by a teenager all the way back to the minor family house.

#answer #fiddlepickdouglas #I COULD HAVE TURNED THIS INTO ACTUAL META BUT <3 #I JUST THINK THEY'RE NEAT!#and if macau DID notice vegas noticing pete then what would his reaction be to seeing pete in the hospital post ep 14 huh #THIS ONE IS A TRUE RAMBLE THANKS FOR ASKING #<33333 #kp orig #vegaspete #vegaspetemacau #I SIMPLY LOVE MACAU'S BENIGN LITTLE SHIT ENERGY #AND HOW ALL THREE OF THEM ARE GOING TO GEL AS A FAMILY POST-FINALE

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

Text

October 16th

Feast

This one is dedicated to all the Thorin and dwarf enjoyers out there.

@legolasbadass and @lathalea for the mention of Dís, @middleearthpixie, @linasofia, @xxbyimm, @fizzyxcustard, @frosticenow for the mention of Thorin and the dwarves :D

I hope you'll enjoy this tiny slice of mischief and family fluff.

Words: 670

Warnings: none

Dís would have laughed if she hadn’t been so touched by Thorin’s fretting; there had been a mishap in the kitchens and the food was delayed.

This was a common enough occurrence and – despite many other talents – Bombur was neither the hastiest nor the fastest dwarf in the settlement; therefore, she surmised that it might well be another hour before the heavily laden trays would be brought out.

She also knew that her dear brother had indulged in stolen cookies with his crony Dwalin only a short while ago, so it was not hungerthat made him scowl so impressively.

“Maybe we should,” Thorin started but was interrupted by the indulgent and fond smile of his sister.

“They are okay,” Dís tried to pacify him quietly, “Dori has raised his own little brother without a problem and he’ll take good care of the lads.”

In her own gut, nervousness and longing were roiling in sickening waves that made her loathe the mere thought of indulging in the lavish feast that had been organised in celebration of another autumn going to an end; winter was almost upon them, and their preparations were on track.

Her two young sons were probably sleeping peacefully in their beds, no doubt having had more than their fill of sweets and having whispered themselves into drowsiness while taking advantage of the more lenient babysitter; nonetheless, she was terrified that they’d be unhappy, ill, or frightened.

An echo of her own misgivings and doubts rippled over the stately face of her brother – so much like her own – and she forced herself to smile soothingly as she might have at the very boys she was thinking of so desperately.

“Dori would have sent someone down if anything was amiss,” she reassured the both of them in her best “I am the reasonable one here”-voice. “Do not fret, brother mine, your darling heir is safe.”

Anger flared in his icy blue eyes at her words.

“My heir?” Thorin growled, thinking of the two boys whom he had been picking apples with, who slept cuddled against his ribs as if he was the safest place on earth, whom he loved more than his own life. “I love them, Dís, in all the ways…”

She covered his massive paw with her own – slightly narrower and definitely better entertained – hand and sighed, “I know, Thorin, I know. They are safe.”

The ghost of their brother lingered in the air like a childhood smell in a cold kitchen; they both felt the heart-wrenching memory drift in the stillness between them. Frerin, sunny, beloved Frerin, had fallen long ago and yet, every night of celebration and of feasting, reverberations of his booming laughter rang in their ears still.

How he had loved those! Many a time, they had all been punished for sneaking down past their bedtime to see the lights dance on the tankards and reflect from the jewels hanging from sturdy necks.

Despite the reprimands and the impatient reactions from their elders, they had always been sent back to bed with a honeyed cake or two and they too would whisper about the things they had but glimpsed until fatigue made them slur their words.

Looking up sharply as she remembered, Dís saw three little heads bob up from under a distant table: one golden, one dark, and one pale red. She grinned as she understood that those three devils had given poor, old Dori the slip.

Nudging her brother, she laughed, “Go down, prince Thorin, and shoo your nephews and their little friend back into their warm beds. You are no longer the miscreant caught where he has no business to be; you are now the sour-faced grump who must bar them from all the fun.”

Grumbling ostentatiously, Thorin lumbered away but Dís clearly saw that – as he advanced through the brightly lit hall – he was stuffing his pockets with many a treat to give the misbehaving youngsters once they had cleared the room and had escaped her own disapproving glare.

@fellowshipofthefics so this is my daily input for today ☺️

I hope you enjoyed this :D

Lots of love from me

-> Masterlist

#fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #fotfics October challenge #fotfics fictober #ficlet run #1 scene per day #a different pairing every day #The Hobbit #Thorin #Dís #Fíli #Kíli #Ori #Family fluff #feast

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namig42 · 2 months

Text

Part 2/7 of

The Character Arcs Each of My OCs Would Go Through If They Were Companions in BG3 (The Good Routes)

Helena

Companion Quest Title: The Mischievous Rogue

When you first encounter Helena, she comes across as a bit nervous and wary. She wields her dagger out of fear against you, though doesn't make any moves. If you calm her down, she'll lower her guard and will be willing to join your party, though she doesn't speak too much at first. As you gain approval with her, she starts to open up through snarky comments. While running around the Grove and the goblin camp, she starts sowing little bits of chaos like pickpocketing people, causing confusion by moving people's possessions around without them knowing, and stealing the chicken for chicken chase. They're small things, but she seems happier when she gets to snicker at her victim's annoyance. If you don't tell her to knock it off and maybe even indulge her problematic behavior, she'll immediately take to you and start wanting to plan more elaborate schemes, even starting to target people in your camp with dumb little goofs and gaffs.

By act 2, she starts to open up a bit more. She has terrible anxiety and bits of PTSD that show mainly in the form of nightmares. You catch her one morning after she slept terribly and she'll comment how awful she feels, giving you the opportunity to learn just what kinds of nightmares or things happened to cause her to be so fearful. She tells you, then ends with the fact that people have only ever hurt her, so she's always stuck it out alone. This is the first time she's ever had someone she could count on, and it was nice. After this confession, you can also ask her why she enjoys causing commotion so much. If you do, she'll tell you that she doesn't really know. When she was small, it seemed better to be alone causing mischief than to be alone while being good and doing what everyone wanted. Her pranks and whatnot were how she justified the distance between her and everyone else, so that she felt like she didn't need others. Plus, it got her attention of people like the head of the orphanage she grew up in. That was the closest person she ever had to family, and even then, she barely remembers their face.

Act 3 in the city is where Helena thrives. Though she has many terrible memories, there's so many things she loves about Baldur's Gate. How easy it was to sow chaos in the streets, the sounds of all the people, the lights that shined through all the windows and lanterns at night that lit the city like stars... It's her home. She's excited to return back to the small apartment she has on the outskirts of the Lower City and share with you all the things she's collected over the years. When you arrive though, she is furious to find that it was taken over by Nine Fingers and her crew while she was away. Helena's home is everything to her. It's where she's stored all her treasures and collectibles over the years, and she wants it back. Outside of her possessions, she doesn't really know who she is or what she can offer others, especially this new group she's found herself caring for so much. She wanted to share her things and feel like she had something to offer you all, because obviously she couldn't be enough as she is. You have to fight off multiple Guild members to take back her home, and after fighting off waves of mercenaries, Helena enters her apartment to see that everything is gone. The Guild pawned off all of her loot while she was away, and Helena weeps. Those were her things, her memories, her life, and now it's all gone. After a day of grief, Helena decides that perhaps it's time to find new treasures and create new memories, maybe this time with the new friends she's made during her adventures. After being shown kindness and acceptance, even with her many faults, she can begin to learn to find more worth in herself rather than solely in the things she collects and steals from others.

#bg3 #oc #helena #writing

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ravennightbirt · 1 year

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Au idea! Raven of Desire

Ravens of The Dreaming are loyal first and foremost to Dream. If under pressure they will always choose him first.

That doesn’t mean they do not start friendships with the other endless.

Death is the most liked option. Especially if the Raven had been a mother or oder sibling before. They just always click and much to Dreams suffering mother the hell out of him.

Destruction was the next highest on the list, something about him is just easy to like. And playing pranks with him is fun.

Delirium tends to be more around if Dreams new Raven was a child or teenager. She is always there when the zoomies get a raven and Dream enjoys seeing his youngest sister happy.

Despair rarely gets a raven friend. She gets them but they do not tent to stick around for long. Those Ravens where born from people who died with heartache and in pain. Who became Ravens because they wanted to be happy and feel free. Despair is around for those ravens and slowly lets them out of her reach.

And then there is Desire. They are in every Raven, somewhat because the person becomes a Raven because they desire more! One more adventure.

They enjoy messing with Dream by giving the Ravens ideas and little tricks. Usually it’s nothing big. Stealing some jewellery from Dream because it’s shiny or using his cloak to nest, because stars sparkle!!!!

Jessamy though, Jessamy was a whole other caliber! She was a young adult woman who wanted MORE! Wanted life and WANTED!!

She also doesn’t give Desire any ground outright draws blood the first time they mess with Dream with her around, because she WANTS Desire to stop so she acted on it. It endears her to them.

Jessamy always wants. Wants to see Dream smile. Wants to help him. Wants to protect him.

Jessamy aa much as she is a creature of of the Dreaming first, is also close to desire. It’s a beautiful friendship that horrifies EVERYONE. Most of all Dream and Death, because those two are a destructive as much as they are creative.

Jessamy who’s first and foremost desire is to see Dream happy and Desire who wants attention. Jessamy gives Desire what they want by indulging they in games and also sometimes picking and chasing them as if they where a little child. And in return Jessamy gets to see Dream smile because Desire is laughing loudly and acting without malice.

Jessamy might or might not have an open invitation to Desires realm and startled the shit out of them several times by showing up unannounced to just stare judgy at them if they did something to Dream. (He cackles every-time she tells him about it. Worth it!)

And then Dream gets trapped and Jessamy is cut of from the dreaming with him. Cut of from HIM. Her friend, her Dream the man she wants to see smile most of all.

10 years she watches and learns and DESIRES. She desires to hurt the people who did this. She desires to pick the Corinthian to pieces. She desires to help. She desires to free Dream. And then she dies with Hope in her heart because Dream is smiling again!

Wanting to help.

And she wakes up in Desires realm, still a Raven not understanding what just happened begging Desire to help her. To help her free Dream because she is his Raven, she is his voice and she asks for help!

And Desire just stares at Jessamy shaking in their lap - her white feathered chest with a new marking where the bullet tore through her heart- and says they can’t. That Jessamy can not ask in Dreams name.

Oh and Jessamy rages about that. Pikes at Desire and screams demanding them to help! And they have to grab her and hold her still only to tell her:

That Jessamy isn’t of the Dreaming anymore. That she no longer is connected to Dream but to THEM!

That when Jessamy died she DESIRED freedom for Dream and for herself. And that her desire was enough to bypass Death and deliver Jessamys soul straight to Desire.

Imagine Desire watching Jessamy who they only knew as a fire cracker of mischief and affection, turn into someone full of Despair but also desire. Desire to help someone she loves.

Imagine Desire holding Jessamy close to them because she is theirs now. Theirs to care for and keep save and Desire wonders for the first time if maybe they got it wrong.

#jessamy the raven #desire of the endless #i don’t know what this is either #but I like it a lot!#Basically a character study and redemption for Desire #by forcing them to actually acknowledge that they don’t have to be all or nothing #that they are allowed to be kind #Idk!#just a vibe I get from Desire #also I adore them #the sandman #netflix the sandman #raven of the dreaming

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meowgiciann · 5 months

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"Another year of mischief completed, Faust," Hawkins said, a rare smile gracing his lips as he scratched his Mink friend behind the ear. "And I hope many more to come. I procured something for you as a token of congratulations and, I suppose, gratitude for your loyalty and endless entertainment." Gesturing to the rest of the crew, a large box was brought over. Within was a giant scratching post, a terrified, well-dressed man tied to it. Around his neck was a familiar cross. "It seems that noble I liberated you from had distant family in this part of the Grand Line. The cards revealed his location and told me you might enjoy keeping your hunting skills and claws sharp with this fool."

Making another gesture, a member of the crew picked up the box and hauled it down below. "And yes, the box is also part of your gift. It'll be in your quarters for your post-hunt nap."

(from @waraxarcana)

@waraxarcana | Faust's Birthday

If any other day of the year the black haired mink already indulged in his own desires, in his birthday couldn't be different. Faust turned worse by the time the clock hit midnight, the purest form of egoism allowed one time per year. Only one man was above his mischief; his captain. If you didn’t count the friendly nibbling on his feet to announce the clock had passed midnight.

Loud purring echoes as his eyes are half closed, tongue just a tad in a blep. He turns around, choosing which places those pleasant nails would scratch just in the right spot until one of his legs raises up, wiggling in the air. “ Loyalty, endless entertainment, incredible strength, amazing puursonality. Don’t I bring so many things to your life, Captain Haawkinss. ” Ears shoot straight up as the big box arrives, eyes that were shaped like a moon turn into a thin line.

Slippering from the sorcerer's hands without thanking him as his excitement speaks louder. Fixes eyes into the cross at their neck. The crying and screaming from that man doesn’t mean anything to the mink, they’re like the seagull cries when they’re torn apart. Faust runs towards his gift, excitement in his voice clear that battles through his purring. “ Rejoice; as for you had been granted a lifetime opportunity. Your cries should be of happiness instead of fear; ” Claw traces through legs; craving through the skin of the ankles as in a single swipe it blood pours like wine. Tendons cut clean.

“ But fear is good too! I deeply appuuurreciated. ” Same claws are swiftly to climb the giant scratching post. Each knot and even the texture was of perfect quality—he knew the magician was up to something when avoiding conversations around him.

At the top, Faust sits calmly; tail moving side to side. He enjoys listening to the bargaining of the noble under him, it’s fun. A great way to start his little birthday ritual. “ Oh, Nyah nyah nyah! It’s not about innocence, my good man. Innocence has nothing to do with anything here. This is a test! A approbation! Cleansing. A pledge of forgiveness. ” “ All you have to do is survive 30 minutes—no! 20 minutes because I’m in such a good mood. Survive 20 minutes and I’ll let not only you, but everyone from your bloodline alone. Nyaahh ~ Sounds pretty fair to me. ” The mink stands, balancing himself at the top. The wind from the sea made his long dark cape dance in the air. With a single click at the pin on its shoulders it let loose. Open arms; eyes closed. His dark fur was engulfed by the moonlight fully. “ False gods; the ones that some of you claim to descend upon—or one Good that hears the claim of many declawed tortured souls of my brothers and sisters; ” Eyes open in fully red velvet. “ Who's stronger? ”

“ Those who have faith do not fear death; as their god shall hear their claim. As for this only night, I shall be your Judge, Jury and Executioner. ”

New members fall at their feet, old ones sweat as the image of the simplistic black cat grows; as if his skin can’t fit his new form and slowly contorts to adequate it. Claws, fangs, mane. All fit the monster form that Faust takes. His curse. The darkness leaves for white pure fur; and once the transformation is complete. Faust, claws out the man from his bonds letting them fall on the floor; on his knees, begging, praying—crying. The sand clock starts—as the Mink jumps from his scratch post. The entire carnage lasts nothing more than 10 minutes, a vicious playground of a feline that doesn't seek to kill. Just the pure raw instincts of playing with their prey. It doesn’t cut more than it should, doesn’t slasher to kill and seeks pain more than anything else.

Once the shine from their eyes finally disappears it’s when the mink stops. A disappointed clicking of tongue. His jaw opens only to engulf the whole head of the corpse as instincts demand him to. New record. He wondered if their children (if that man had any) would have the same endurance in 10 or 20 years. Faust brings the corpse along and drops at his captain's feet. Kneeling, his forehead—only part that wasn’t drenched in blood touches softly on Hawkins’ knee. Although right now his primitive instincts took over and his voice would only speak in rough roars. He wishes to say thanks.

His whole act is not only for himself, it is a warning—that little push new members need to fully throw themselves at his best friend and captain’s hands. For now, the transformed mink carries the corpse at his mouth as he climbs the mast of the ship in direction for the highest place possible. It’s his birthday gift, he doesn’t want to share it with a certain horse at least for that day. He will indulge on his new scratch pole later and in special, that box will be his sleeping bed until it breaks apart.

#;Answer3d #✠ Puuuresto | ic #tw: gore #tw: blood #Faust: Nyeheheheheh sorry captain went a bit overboard here u know i love a little show

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superhoeva-archived · 2 years

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐧𝐞)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: nick pays you and rio a visit

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rio (good girls), woc!reader, nick

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: two fics in two days? i don't know how it happened, but here we are. this is part one of two (i promise it will just be two parts), so pretty please tell me what you think. also, thank you to the anon that motivated me to get this done today. whoever you are, i love you very much. enjoy! <3 (gif credit: @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): language, a lil angst, nick is a meanie, nick makes reader uncomfortable, just nick in general 18+/minors dni!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

You are Rio’s everything––his sun, moon, and stars.

The way that you brightened the darker side of his life––the side littered with a plethora of illegalities––was something he still didn’t believe he deserved. Everything about you rained an enchanting beam of luminescence that was successful in clarifying any questions he had regarding the love you had for him in return. Your warmth wrapped him in a blanket of necessary support and solace whenever the cold, heartless conditions of the world backed him into an icy corner.

The balance you manage to bring into his life (a stability he has never experienced until you), keeps him sane. It isn’t a question that you, along with Marcus, are the only reasons Rio’s hair isn’t falling out over the moving parts that keep his business going. You are the key behind his empire.

You are Rio’s everything––and Nick can’t stand it.

A sharp knock on your front door alerts you of the unexpected visitor that was interrupting the little downtime you planned for today.

The smallest parts of you are hoping it was Rio, but the copy of your key in his possession told you that it can’t be the man you’ve been thinking about for most of the day. Another knock, this time a hint louder, has you begrudgingly traveling to the door with little urgency.

The face that reveals itself once you swing open the door has your eyes widening with confusion, as Nick was the last person you were expecting to see anytime soon.

“Hey there, gorgeous. Mind if I come in?”

The smile planted on Nick’s face had you debating the decision, but he doesn’t end up giving you much choice in the matter as he politely pushes his way through the front door.

“Uh,” you stutter, blinking as his shoulder brushes with yours, “sure?”

He steps with intention throughout your foyer, not forgetting to let his eyes pass over you more than his brother/cousin would appreciate as he eyed the decorations of your home.

Luckily for him, his brother/cousin wasn’t here at the moment.

It was just you and him. Even if it was only for a second, Nick could pretend that he was the one you were waiting at home for… wearing those shorts for. His own little personal fantasy that he could indulge in––respectfully, of course––as he wanted the privacy to ask you a burning question.

“So, what’s up, Nick?” You ask him, making sure to cross your arms to try and cover the think tank top you currently wished you hadn’t thrown on.

“I wanted to swing by, see how you’re doing,” Nick shrugs, situating his hands in his pockets as he answers. “Just haven’t seen you in a while, that’s all…”

The suspicious twinkle in his eye made you feel as though there was an underlying motive behind his reasoning. There was a hint of mischief in his tone that told you his spontaneous visit wasn’t for your benefit, but his own.

“Well,” you sigh, ignoring whatever skepticism you had if it meant getting him out of the house soon rather than later. “It’s nice to see you, I guess. Work keeping you busy?”

“Oh, you know it is,” he teases with a knowing smile. He was a city counselor after all. “Most of my life currently revolves around budget meetings, town halls, and overseeing city-wide projects that, frankly, take up more time than they need.”

A breathy laugh leaves you at his response, silently regretting asking him in the first place. If anything, you should be attempting to get him out of the house, not rope him into staying any longer.

“You know, speaking of work,” Nick begins suddenly, and you try not to brisk at the way he catches you off guard, “there’s this black-tie event that a charity I sponsor is throwing, and I’ve somehow found myself without a date.”

‘I wonder why.’

“And of course, we’re not together or anything, but I thought I would––”

“Ask her what?”

You didn’t know if the feeling rushing throughout your body was relief or concern over the fact that you weren’t able to get Nick out of the house before Rio returned, but it didn’t matter. Rio is home, and soon enough, brother/cousin will be long gone.

“Hey, man,” Nick greets, an obviously fake smile plastered across his face. “How you been?”

Instead of answering the question, Rio turns away from Nick and looks at you. You don’t object when he pulls you into his front and wraps you in his arms. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod subtly, breathing out a sigh of relief at the warmth you’ve been missing all day. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Rio chuckles shortly at your statement but doesn’t let you go just yet. “Go upstairs, and I’ll be up there in a minute, okay?” Rio lets you go as you nod silently, and send one more glance towards Nick before disappearing up the stairs.

Nick lets a few moments of silence roll past before he attempts to speak to his brother/cousin. “So how have you-”

“What are you doing here, Nick?”

The councilman sighs at the expected question and bites his lip before answering.

“Well, as I said before, there’s a charity event coming up. And I was wondering I could score a date with your wife.”

Rio gives Nick a long stare before breaking out into an unsettling laugh. Brother/cousin can only watch and wait until Rio is finished.

“That’s right,” Rio smiles, “my wife. You come into my house and interrupt my wife’s day off with a stupid ass reason like that.”

Rio isn’t smiling anymore, and Nick loves it. A false look of innocence falls over his face as he tells Rio, “You know what? You’re right, man. I’m sorry. Truly, I am. That was petty inappropriate of me, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah,” Rio agrees immediately, eyes filling with guarded uncertainty. Nick can’t hold the fake smile he gives Rio for very long, as his lips purse in subdued anger instead.

“Actually, there was one more thing,” Nick adds, and Rio raises his eyebrows in the most obnoxious manner. “You really don’t deserve her.”

Rio’s expression drops immediately. He wants to say something when Nick steps a little closer but decides against it.

“She’s worth so much more than you deserve,” Nick continues, the amount of venom pouring out of his lips growing with every word. “She deserves a life better than this. Better than you. Better than your stupid operation and counterfeit money and pills and whatever else you’ve been able to get your hands on.”

“Says the dirty politician,” Rio smirks, continuing before Nick can say anything else. “You know, I used to look up to you. Now you’re just… a piece of shit.”

Nick clenches his jaw. “Luckily that’s more than you’ll ever be, baby brother-”

“Nah. Cousin.”

taglist (open, link in bio): @rae-gar-targaryen @cruzwalters @ceniorina @amorestevens @toni9 @est1887 @lovelytricia @shawty-fenty @proudlittlewitchbitch @holl2712 @taylorm1367 @savagemickey03 @melaninhawtie @relaxing-najee @bigchoose @goldxnbutterfly @calif0rnia-lovers @cjricks102 @cosmiclvsh @blackwriter48 @atomevee @outlawedmando @aria725

#rio x reader #rio x you #rio good girls #good girls nbc #nbc good girls #simone writes

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ackerfics · 3 years

Note

comparing hand sizes with eren or erwin 😩

i'm your satellite — eren jaeger, erwin smith (separate)

— eren jaeger x female reader, erwin smith x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: none, just fluff <3

— summary: they have a list of things that they love doing with you but when you suggested comparing hand sizes, they're blanketed with the feeling of pulling your heart closer than it already is.

— word count: 2.4k

— notes: i specifically didn't answer this yet because i wanted it to be an anthology of sorts --- it's just so cute aaaaaa both of these men make my heart stutter in the best way possible. i'm so sorry if i answered this late thooo :<<< i was sorting through my requests just now and found this. and i simply love it. maybe i'll start writing more these days because i'm starting to feel the side-effects of the vaccine hhhhhhh my body feels so tired all day, which means i'll be on my bed typing away on my computer. i based one of these scenarios on my own experience bc one of my guy friends just loves to compare hand sizes for bragging rights djnejdej also, i indulged myself in a little dad!erwin bc i'm a sucker for those. happy reading, love !! i hope you enjoy this owo

reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

Class is becoming boring for Eren, the theories being discussed by the professor flying from his mind even after he writes them down on his iPad. He's an exceptional student, no doubt about that, but if there comes a day that he's feeling under the weather, Eren will just let the lecture pass by in front of him. He'd rather watch movies, cuddled into your warmth, than watch the short documentary on the discovery of quantum particles and their vitality in the great merry-go-round of life. He sighs before looking at his wristwatch --- there's still one more hour of staying physically present in this class and he will finally have dinner with you in one of the university restaurants. As if the thought of you sparked life into his body, he turns to you with a glint of mischief lighting up his eyes. Suddenly, every fiber of boredom became tendrils as he looks at your stunning side profile.

Like water, you flow through every stream of thought Eren has.

His admiration for you runs deeper than you let on. The love is visible as he trails his iridescent emerald irises over your visage. Rather than seeing the colors of the spectrum, his vision is dyed with all shades of anything pastels, the sparkles throwing you in a different spotlight than anyone else in the lecture room. Your eyelashes curve over your eyes as if they're butterfly wings every time you slowly blink while writing down the important details of the class. Eren is a sucker for the way you become so focused on every little thing. He loves seeing you lightly bite your lip as you draw diagrams or highlight with those pastel colors you adore you much. He enjoys the little nose scrunches when you don't like your handwriting, which was something he's thoroughly baffled about because it's so pretty as you. He even relishes how you blow on the stray lock of hair obscuring your vision. Everything about you is so perfect for Eren's eyes. It's not something he admits out loud but it's always conveyed through his actions.

It was a stroke of luck when you compared schedules with your boyfriend at the start of the academic year --- thinking that probably you wouldn't share classes with him aside from the general ones. You're both in the same major so most likely some of your classes align with each other just as it had been the previous year in university but it was never the vital course. He whooped in your shared apartment the moment he saw that you share all of your essential courses with him. It was something he was wishing for since you both started university.

The memory makes Eren smile, the giddiness he feels urges his hand to reach out to you. Finally, you look back at him in mild surprise when his hand covers yours. The small smile he had becomes a grin at your narrowed look. He shakes his head lightheartedly, "What?"

"What are you pulling right now?" You mumble slowly to not disrupt the class.

"Oh, nothing," he sings, running his fingers through every gap of your hand. The more time he observes every ridge and marks your hand has, he discerns that it looks so small compared to him. Eren always swoons whenever he feels how small you are against him. Something tugs on his heartstrings every time he hugs you from behind, only for you to be swallowed by how tall he is. Butterflies always cause tornadoes inside his rib cage when you walk around in your shared apartment wearing only his shirt. He can't resist his clothes reaching the middle of your thighs so he snatches you to throw you on the bed for another round of cuddles. Don't even start wearing his sweaters. The sweater paws are the death of him. "You are so tiny," he marvels in awe.

You scrunched your face in confusion. "Okay? I'm always tiny compared to you, 'Ren." You turn back to writing on your notebook, scribbling the diagram flashing on the projector screen. You feel every touch he pours onto your skin and it takes everything in you not to shudder at the heartwarming sensation of his fingers trailing over the back of your hand. You try to push down the warmth seeping into your cheeks and focus your attention on the lecture. The remaining minutes will fly by if you try to connect yourself with the theories your professor rambles on. But when Eren speaks again, your concentration breaks for the tenth time this day.

"No, no, you don't understand."

Your eyebrows furrow, stopping before you reach a period in your notes. "What am I not understanding?"

"Look."

Turning your head to see what caused Eren to say his sentences with breathy adoration, you see him placing your free hand on his, palm to palm. "Eren, what are you doing?"

Eren looks at you with the brightest emeralds before pointing his stare at your joined hands. Your palm is flushed on his --- your middle finger barely reaches half of his. It makes you blink at the sheer difference. You always knew that Eren is like a giant teddy bear behind that gruff appearance he always shows in public, with that man bun and blank face that often scares people, but you never really thought about how he practically engulfs you with just his build. His hand is so much larger than yours that you're starting to feel your heartbeat pound in the same melody as Eren's, the green-eyed man looking back at you with his universe reflected in his eyes. He's staring at you as if you complete him and it heals him to know that you complement him in any way he can think of. So, he folds his fingers over the gaps of your hand, covering you in a protective cocoon he created just for you. You're making him love you like a fool and he hopes you know how much he feels for you.

"You're so cute. It warms my heart seeing this." Eren never strays his gaze from your hands. "I think it's just me but I have butterflies when I realize that my heart is much bigger than yours," he glances at you with a small smile, "which means I can love you much greater than anyone else could. And every single inch of it is beating just for you." He leans his head back on his chair, a besotted look washing over his face as he gazes at your wide eyes, parted lips, and warm cheeks. "You are the reason why I enjoy living now. Feels great to let you know that I kind of love you more than you ever know."

You're speechless. Sometimes you have the tendency to blurt out any random thought when Eren makes your voice disappear like this. "All this because of a Physics lecture?"

Eren laughs before pulling up your joined hands to his lips. He presses the most gentle kiss on your skin, looking at you with half-lidded eyes over your combined hands. "Partially yeah because it's boring me but I know you know I'm telling the truth."

If you're perfect in Eren's eyes, he's shining in yours --- much more radiant than every satellite the universe has to offer.

Free time for Erwin is so rare and short that he cherishes every single one he has with you.

His work as the CEO of his rising business serves as the reason why he spends his nights inside glass walls instead of your home's comfort. With a junior like Levi who's always making sure that he stays in line without any distractions, Erwin is bound to be working more than enough hours to provide for your little family. Ever since you gave birth to his baby boy, he's working harder than he already is, saying along the lines that your little boy needs all the luxury a child should have in their life. Although, with that in mind, you prevented him from going back to work the first three months of your son's life on earth. As time passed, with your son now reaching one year old, all the little boy can pinpoint from his father is his eyebrows (something that he didn't inherit in all the features he has from his father) because that's the only thing he can remember from his workaholic dad.

So, once Erwin texted you that he will be having the week off because he felt like he was working too much, you are undeniably elated.

It's the first night of his vacation and Erwin spends it with you and your son, Atlas, doing a marathon of Disney animated films (well, up until your son falls asleep). You are snuggled against Erwin's chest, with your one-year-old son laying comfortably on both of your laps, fixated on the display of Simba being lifted in the air by Rafiki. The bowl of fruits near Erwin's side is slowly consumed by the blond baby sitting between the two of you while you and your husband are indulging in a bowl of popcorn. Atlas's exclamations of awe make you and Erwin laugh, endeared at the sight of him so immersed in the world of talking animals and magic. He occasionally looks up at you and imitates Simba's attempt at roaring before tugging on Erwin's shirt to randomly feed his dad a piece of strawberry (clumsily because he shoved the fruit on Erwin's nose). Everything is going well until Atlas sees the scene where Mufasa died.

"Daddy!" Atlas cries, eyes welling up in tears as he's clutching the fabric of his onesie in tiny fists. His sobs turn to wails as he turns to Erwin's chest, wrapping his small arms around the large expanse he's seeking comfort from. Erwin's chest rumbled with low laughter while you're brushing your fingers over Atlas's tuft of blonde hair, thumbs catching his falling tears. The baby boy continues nuzzling on Erwin that your husband looks at you for help. "Daddy don wan to die!"

"Sweetie?" You try calling out, cupping the side of your son's head in your palm. Those blue eyes he got from Erwin shine even more with that sheen of tears covering his irises. His little teeth are peeking through as he's gritting another sob, in which you have to take a deep breath just to contain your smile. "Daddy won't go anywhere." You lean your head on Erwin's shoulder, taking Atlas's curling fist and placing it on top of Erwin's heart. "Do you feel that?" A shy nod is your son's response. "That's Daddy's heartbeat. As long as that sound is around, he's always here."

"That's right, baby," Erwin tells Atlas, the toddler looking up at him with similar eyes. "I won't be Daddy lion any time soon."

Atlas tilts his head, speaking in a broken, "Really?"

Erwin nods. "Really."

The baby boy pouts and looks down on his father's free hand, the one that's not wrapped around him. With a set mission in his mind, Atlas took Erwin's hand with both of his. You share a glance with Erwin when your son lets his father's palm face his small face. The movie is now forgotten as Atlas expresses his small noises of awe at how Erwin's hand can cover his entire head. He huffs and makes himself comfortable, sitting on his calves, before smacking his palm on top of his dad's. He then laughs at something remotely funny to him, doing the thing all over again and muttering along the lines of, "Daddy big!" You and your husband watch as Atlas takes your hand and does the same thing. His giggles tug at your heartstrings, warmth spreading across the living room at the sight of Atlas enjoying the smallest act as if it's the most amazing thing on the planet. By now, the grins on your faces will never be erased at the energetic spark of light bouncing on both of your laps, eager to share what he discovered with you two.

"Mommy and Daddy do, too!"

"Oh, you want me and Mommy to do it, too?" Erwin translates.

A squeal rings through as the answer.

"Okay, then, as the little hero says so." Erwin turns to you with a smile, transferring his hold on Atlas on the other arm. "You heard our son, darling."

Erwin opens his palm, patiently waiting for you to complete the puzzle. Your loving stare trailing over his face turns him into a puddle of enraptured sighs and butterflies he's never shy to show you. The little sky-carrier giggling below anticipates the moment as much as Erwin.

Your pretty smile is the perfect accompaniment as you finally place your palm on top of Erwin's. When he sees how small your hand is compared to him, he's reminded of the times you randomly did this during college. Every single time he sees you marvel at the stark contrast between his calloused fingers to your dainty ones, Erwin is sent to the seventh heaven --- all because you look so beautiful staring at your joined hands with so much affection dripping from your eyes. He can't help but lean forward to gently press his forehead against yours, his hold on Atlas tightening because the baby is leaning back to capture the moment as one of his core memoirs. It must be because he feels so at ease in the comforts of his home or it could be because he touches you gently for a long while --- but regardless of what reason it is, Erwin feels so thankful that you came to his life like a shooting star impending for impact in his hollow heart, turning the chambers into a glowing artwork painted by you. Your hands are always laden with gold as you shower Erwin with the most unconditional love you ever gave a person, which is now extended to the bundle of starlight excitedly babbling.

"I love you so much, darling," Erwin murmurs, his breath too close as it hits your lips. He entwines his fingers through yours, slightly feeling Atlas standing up to join the little love-fest. "Thank you for everything you gave me. Thank you for bringing me to zenith every single day."

"Yeah!" Atlas cheers. "Mommy best!"

"You're right, baby," Erwin agrees, two blue eyes glancing at you with adoration. "Mommy is the best."

To them, they're mere planets revolving around you --- their luminary but for you, they carry the entire cosmos in their huge hearts --- pulsing with utter vibrancy for the little things in life at every beat.

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