#now feel draining and I don’t like that

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

warning: canon typical violence || vomit

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”

You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease. 

It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye. 

You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt. 

But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask? 

No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you. 

As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.

You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”

She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”

Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?” 

You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem. 

“How does your tummy hurt?”

She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate. 

Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her. 

Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can. 

You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.

You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS. 

It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too. 

A lesson for the future.

Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”

She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse. 

In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes. 

Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing. 

“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life. 

Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room. 

“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there. 

Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”

“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”

“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped. 

“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”

“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply. 

You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte. 

But you don’t. 

You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.

She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”

“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”

To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”

You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”

She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.

“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid. 

“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”

You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.

You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”

----

You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake.  The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted.  So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers. 

There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are. 

Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring. 

You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”

“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”

Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.

As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?” 

Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”

Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”

“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.

Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”

You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”

Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.” 

That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”

Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more. 

“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.” 

“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night. 

As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.” 

“Okay, okay.”

You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips. 

“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response. 

“Not icky.”

“How is your tummy?”

Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse. 

“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”

You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning. 

Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.

So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”

Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way. 

Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.

You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it. 

It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.

Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.

You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it. 

You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all. 

You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down. 

Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you. 

You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now. 

“What is it, sweetie?” 

“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile. 

Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”

She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck. 

You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you. 

All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.

You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.

There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.

“Mommy!”

The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you. 

You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek. 

Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can. 

There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.

You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.

You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.

You can’t get up. 

You can’t get to Minnie. 

You can’t save your daughter.

There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.  

You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts. 

“DADDY!” 

Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter. 

“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.

“Mommy!”

The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.

“MOMMY!”

“MOMMY!!”

---

:3C

---

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 

 @allllium

@anehkael

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you

[codtrashsammy]

Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

#simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

[sunnywiththestars]

Hi! Do you have any BuckTommy fic recs?

yes!! here you go!!!

I tried to tag anyone's tumblr that i could find but there were a few i couldn't so it's only straight to the fic on ao3

you keep his shirt, he keeps his word by perfectlysunny @perfectlysunny02

"Evan, baby, you okay? It’s late. I thought Chimney’s party was tonight.” “Tommy,” Buck gasps, almost dropping his phone in his excitement . “You’re here. See that, Eds, magic is real. He’s here.” “Sweetheart, you called me, remember,” Tommy says. “Evan, baby, are you drunk?”

A (Not So) New Hoodie by littlebipolarsunshine

In which Buck doesn't look very closely when putting on a hoodie before going to work.

Pancakes, kisses, and a little bit of TLC by theotherlucifer @theotherbuckley

“Evan?” Tommy asks, his voice deep and gravelly. If it were any other day, Buck would find that incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he isn’t able to enjoy it. Now that he’s aware of the pain in his leg, it only seems to get worse. His leg throbs; it feels like his bones are trying to bully their way out of his flesh. He clenches his eyes shut as he wills the wildfire that burns through his limb to calm down. “‘M fine,” he gets out through a clenched jaw. Tommy squints at him, tilting his head to the side. “Evan,” he repeats in a way that Buck knows means he doesn’t believe him for a second. (or Buck wakes up with a chronic pain flare-up the morning after, and Tommy takes care of him)

Hold me on my bad day by disasterbuckdiaz @bidisasterevankinard

Tommy had a bad day, has an awful morning he starts as blanket burrito, but his boyfriend's cuddles make it better

the universe is screaming (are you listening?) by pigalle

Buck, still running on frantic panic of being late, stops short. When he looks down at himself, he sees that he is indeed wearing one of Tommy’s LAFD Air Operations t-shirts. “Uh,” Buck says, ever so eloquently. “Why are you wearing Tommy’s shirt?” Chimney asks, and really, that’s a valid question. Or, 5 times the universe conspires to reveal Buck and Tommy’s relationship, plus 1 time it’s quite obvious

come and save me from it by devirnis @devirnis

“Dinner and a show,” Evan comments, his eyes zeroed in on where Tommy’s sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. “Maybe I should get sick more often.” Tommy flicks a small piece of ginger at him. “If you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was bat those pretty eyelashes of yours.” It happens so quickly. One second Evan is grinning exhaustedly at him, and the next thing Tommy knows, Evan’s eyes go wide as what little colour he has left drains from his face. Tommy makes an aborted move towards him, but Evan shoves his chair back from the island and bolts for the bathroom.

Right In Front of Me by Princessfbi @princessfbi

Tommy’s brows knitted together as his mouth turned down with worry. “Evan,” he said and Buck wanted to hear him call his name so many more times. “What happened? Did someone choke you?” “That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Buck said, clearing his throat again when his voice gave an embarrassing squeak.

Like a Music That's Been Transposed by Faillen @faillen

“Hey there, stunner,” Tommy murmured against his mouth once they’d pulled away. “Stunner?” Evan asked, smile bunching up his cheeks. “That’s a new one.” “Mhmm,” Tommy said, pressing a kiss to one of those lovely red cheeks. “You like it?” Evan ducked his head, “Yeah, that one’s uh. That’s pretty good.” His eyes cut back to Tommy and his mouth twisted into a thoughtful moue. “I don’t really have any for you.” “Eh,” Tommy said. “I’m not a big endearment guy.” Or: Tommy grows into his name.

do you mind? im pining by tinygiantsam @watchyourbuck

He slammed his glass onto the table, sitting upright as he coughed into his hand. His eyes watered, but he couldn’t tear them away from the scene before him. He hadn’t imagined it. They were holding hands. OR: 7x05 spec fic. Buck and Tommy have their first date. Eddie is jealous about it. (Includes Buck and Tommy making out at the loft + Eddie dealing with complicated feelings towards his best friend).

those hands pulled me from the earth by star_shot (throw one of my own in there-)

Tommy’s eyebrows were raised as he stood and waited for an explanation. “I believe that I promised you a dance tonight.” Buck says, a softer smile graces his lips. “It is 4 o’clock in the morning.” -- OR - after the disaster of the day, Buck still finds a way to fulfill his promise to Tommy.

a lovely collection of fics, happy reading!!

and anyone else please feel free to add on another other bucktommy recs you have or even your own works!

#911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 fanfic #tevan #kinley #fic rec #sunny answers asks

[wildandsmile]

commission idea🤌 vampire blue lock au characters like rin/sae/kuni/nagi etc and for kinks maybe like pinning/degrading ykwim i have a thing for neck biting hense why i love vampire au so much

Rian,Sae,Kuni,Nagi. Bllk boy when you tell them it’s ok to bite you

Total Wc. 1.1k

Warning. Oral F receiving, fingering, biting, choking, teasing, degrading breeding, riding, jealousy , sweet aftercare

An. This is my first time writing for vampires so...... yeah

Rin

He loses his mind, asking you a hundred times if you're sure about it, over and over again.

But once you reassure him, you're done for; he seizes every chance to take a bite out of you he can.

There's something about the way your blood tastes that sends his undead body boiling.

Oh, and he's a sucker for bloody kisses, the taste of your lips on his while your blood still lingers on the tip of his tongue, it turns him on like nothing else could.

And don’t even get him started on you guys are having sex he loves to feel you ride him while his fang are deep in your neck

You gasped out slowly, "Rin no more, pls I can’t take anyone ." As tears streamed down your eyes, and you couldn't grasp how long you'd been at it or how much blood you'd lost. All you knew was that weren’t leaving this room anytime soon."Come on, princess, be good for me, just one taste, please," he pleaded, not giving you any time to reply before sinking his teeth deep into your skin, watching as the blood rained down your neck."Fuck you taste so delicious and you feel even better," he groans as he rolls his hips, attempting to force yet another sweet orgasm from your already flowing cunt. He eventually lets go of your neck, but not before licking a long hot lap across your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss. It felt good, and the irony only added to your excitement as Rin began to thrust deeply into you. "Come on now princess, let me treat you real good for giving me such a great meal."

Sae

He's nothing like his brother; when you mention he could bite you, he's all in, almost immediately.

You even had to set a limit on how many times a day he could drink from you, fearing he'd drain you dry.

But oh, the teasing—he adores it, especially when he hears that little moan escape your lips. And after how wet you get just for his fangs

He LOVES going down on you and nibbling on your thighs; the taste of your blood and slick combined makes his head spin.

He's a HUGE aftercare guy, coming back with bandages, snacks, the whole shebang.

"Come on, slut, you can do better than that," he says into your already swollen cunt, sliding his tongue across your sloppy folds. You tried to pull away, but he pushed you hard into the mattress, keeping you in place so he could plunge his fingers deep within you and curl them in just the right position. "Fuck look at pet look at you getting our sheets dirty for me" he says as he begins to rub himself through his clothes. "Don't you think I deserve a reward, pet?" he asked as he itch the tip of your sweet spot, forcing you to melt in his hands and moan loudly.That must have been his answer because soon enough he’s licking long hot strips across your thigh before sinking his fang deep into your skin licking up all the blood that trickles down making sure not to waste a drop.“ You’re so addictive pet, but I think it’s time to give you what you want, ” he said as he wiped the blood off his face and licked it off his fingers. “I’m going to have to cancel my schedule cause we’re not leaving this room until you covered in my bite marks.”

Kunigami (Wild Card)

• Right then and there, he takes you up on that offer, no matter where you are.

• Throughout the entire encounter, he's a big bully, teasing and touching you, yet not allowing you to reciprocate.

• He revels in seeing you in that vulnerable state when he drinks your blood, something about your clinging to him that ignites him.

• His possessiveness leads him to bite you in places where there's no way to hide the marks.

• Despite his bullying nature and slight transformation, he still retains the same caring demeanor, as evidenced by your favorite food waiting on the table the next day with a note that reads, "Make sure to rest well today, doll."

"Didn't I tell you not to touch doll face?" he says, slapping your ass hard. "Only good girls get what they want," he says, and you whimper an apology before turning your face away so he doesn't see the fire burning your cheeks. But it doesn't last long as Kuni slides his hands up your skirt and rubs tight circles on your clit, feeling how wonderful and puffy you can become with just a few touches."You really are a dirty slut doll face is that why you covered up your bite mark cause you didn't want the world to know what a dirty girl you really were huh” he says as he peels the bandages off your neck, revealing all the bite marks you worked so hard to hide. "I worked so hard to paint this pretty neck like my canvas, and you cover it up," he says as he wraps his hands around your throat, hooking your panties to the side and sliding to figure in rolling them until you buck into him. In that instant, he sinks his fangs deep into your collar bone. "Guess I'll just have to cover all of you in my bite marks so you can't hide them again."

Nagi

Is lazy he just waves it off when you tell him and goes back to his video game

• However, should he catch you talking to another guy, especially another vampire, his demeanor takes a different turn.

• He's typically gentle about things, so don't expect too much until he's angered.

• When he does get upset, he becomes more animalistic, perhaps even draining you completely.

• Yet, he always apologizes the next day, showering you with the princess treatment, whether it's playing his game together or enjoying a nap side by side.

"Who the hell was that love?" Nagi asks, his eyes shining a venomous glow. You don't say anything because you know it will only add fuel to the fire, and that's how you end up locked in a mating press as Nagi buries his cock deep inside you kiss up to your cervix and his fangs even deeper into your skin drain you of what little you have. You couldn't tell if you were seeing stars because he pulled so many orgasms out of you or because of the blood loss."You’re mine, mine, mine," he says as he pushes your leg deeper into your chest and does a long lap across your leg before biting you and watching the blood trail down your leg. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it, even if I have to bite and knock you up to do so."

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #anime smut #bllk smut #praise #blue lock smut #anime #rin itoshi smut #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #sae itoshi smut #kunigami rensuke #kunigmai rensuke smut #nagi seishiro #nagi smut #vampire #vampire au #request #blue lock #wild cards #tips #fanfic commissions #commission #wirters on tumblr #angst #fanfic fluff #aftercare #so hot 🔥🔥🔥

[brnesblogposts]

monster in his nightmares

pairing bucky barnes x reader

warnings ANGST!!!

a/n can you guys let me know if you can click on my master list and are directed to my fics because it’s not working for me.

reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed !

You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe. Your neck is being squeezed so tight your vision spotting as panic takes over.

“Bu- Bucky” You whisper as best you can in broken breathes, he doesn’t know he’s doing it. He never does, his nightmares are vivid and so real to him and he can’t control his physical reactions, tears are rolling down your face as you move your hand to grip his metal wrist and try loosen his grip, you don’t want it to have to come to violence but the fear you might die and the fear he’d spend the rest of his life feeling guilty for something he couldn’t control- you start kicking him, kicking and hitting. Wake up, wake up you think to yourself

‘No. Stop. Please. Dont put me back in the chair, dont wipe my mind again’ Bucky thinks to himself in a panic as Hyrda agents push him back, how did they find him? how was he tricked into being taken again and now his memory wiped of everything he loves- his memories of you- ‘No.’ The thought of losing you is enough to make him push through and use all his strength, he takes his metal hand and wraps it around the nearest agents neck, it call kicks off into a frenzy then but he fights through it, he watches as the life drains out of the agents face.

“Bu- bucky?” What? No they don’t- they call him soldat- who’s speaking, who’s kicking him? this man he’s strangling sounds like a woman? odd. what’s happening?

He’s in a room, it’s dark. He’s on something soft, a mattress? They don’t give out those in Hydra so he can’t be back with them, who’s underneath him?

“You’re okay” Strangled sobs, you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. “Bucky” You all but desperately whine, that’s when he really wakes up.

Bucky shoots back quickly sitting on his knees as you take in deep breathes of oxygen and rub at your aching throat, he’s bewildered, did he? He hurt you. He hurt his doll.. He jumps off of the bed and backs away, he’s shaking, sweating, he’s starting to violently sob as reality comes crashing down. He almost killed you.

You finally get enough air in your lungs to notice Bucky is gone, you sit up and your heart breaks as you see him sitting against the wall on the other side of the room, looking at his metal hand like it’s a weapon, like he’s sickened by the sight of it. Getting up slowly you approach him and crouch in front of him, at the approach of your hand he flinches.

“No” That one word holding so much pain.

“Get away from me, I- I don’t wanna hurt you anymore Doll” He’s not looking at you, he can’t. If he sees the state of your neck, the bruises he’s left-

“Bucky” You whisper quietly as he shakes his head again, it’s hard for him to comeback down from nightmares but you don’t know what to do in this particular situation, he’s never hurt you because of them before, not this bad.

“It’s not your fault” You reassure him, not expecting an answer but you hope to get through to him, that the reassurance and love you show him right now will help him see he’s not the man in his nightmares.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me” You say as you sit down across him him still giving him space as he holds his head in his hands and cries.

“I’m okay” You don’t care how long you have to sit here, as long as Bucky needs you’re gonna be there for him.

You sit in silence for a few minutes and just watch him as he takes some deep breathes, a technique he learnt in therapy, you get up and grab him some water leaving it by him for him to take in his own time, he does eventually and takes small sips.

A record is playing softly in the background he notices, one of his favourites. He senses your presence, he knows you’re there but he doesn’t understand why. He almost killed you, why aren’t you running away from him?

“I-i’m dangerous, you should get away from me-” He wont meet your eyes.

“I trust you, Bucky.” You don’t know what else you can say to reassure him, he just needs time to come down from this.

“How?” He looks at you now, grimacing as he sees the bruises on your neck. “How can you trust me, look what I did.” He’s so ashamed.

“You didn’t mean to. You were having a nightmare, we can work this out, we can talk to some doctors and see how to get your physical reactions to nightmares under control Buck. If you think i’m leaving because of this you’re wrong. I’m fine, you came out of it and i’m okay” Tears build up behind your eyes but Bucky is so fragile and vulnerable right now you’re trying to be strong for him.

He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes wet with tears and his face one of shock horror, you can’t hold it back anymore you start to tear up.

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, I wish I could take it all away, I really wish I could.” You reach your hand out in hopes he’ll let you have that little bit of contact and he does, he takes your hand albeit cautiously and at the contact you start to cry harder.

“You don’t deserve any of it, Buck. You never did. You’re the best man i’ve ever met and your heart is so pure. It makes me so mad to think about what you’ve been through and how it will stick with you for the rest of your life. It’s fucked up and I wish- I wish I could- I want to kill everyone who has ever been bad to you or used you.” The frustration of having to watch Bucky suffer the severe PTSD that he does hurts your heart, it causes your chest to actually ache because he is so sweet, so gentle.

“Don’t cry” Bucky says in response as his heart is being ripped out of his chest at the sight of you so upset. “There’s no need to cry” Despite everything he’s been through seeing you even just the tiniest bit upset hurts him more than anything ever could, so it’s for that reason that he looks past the fear he’s holding and leans forward to pull you into his chest.

You instantly curl up, this is so grounding for Bucky, feeling your heartbeat against his, your skin on his skin, it’s so intimate for him in times like these where he’s taken back to times when he never received simple love like touch, now more than ever he cherishes it.

“Buck-“ You croak out as you kiss his face all over, trying to show just how much you love him. He shushes you and rocks with you, his head clearing and eyes drying up. Your presence alone does more than therapy ever can.

So you both sit there for awhile, the only sounds to be heard is the both of you breathing. You stroke comforting hands up and down Buckys back and through his hair, he relaxes into your touch, into the moment, present. No longer stuck in his nightmare he’s now in a dream, being with you is a dream.

After awhile you speak up “Do you want to go back to bed? Or we can go into the living room and watch a movie or a tv show? Whatever you wanna do” You would do anything for him to be okay, you would take his trauma and deal with it yourself if you could if you knew just for a second that he would finally be at peace in his own mind.

He thinks for a second, contemplating.

“The beds kind of- it’s- too fresh in my mind you know? You can go back to bed baby i’ll go to the cou-“

“No” You cut him off “I’m with you, i’m not leaving your side.” He smiles because he’s grateful for you, with that he stands up, you still clinging to him like a koala and moves the both of you to the couch laying down with you on top of him.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asks.

“Anything you want, whatever is gonna make you feel better” Your hands are in his hair again.

He puts on a lighthearted sitcom that makes the both of you laugh as he strokes his hands up and down your back soothing not just you but himself, the contact keeping him in the moment. That’s how the both of you spend the next hour or so before you hear Bucky snoring lightly, finally sleeping nightmare free and you join him, ready to comfort him should he be woken up again.

—

a/n i started writing this a few weeks ago and then i got busy and then i fixated on something else but anyways i finished it! kind of hate it now tho but i haven’t posted in awhile,

taglist- @ktgsoul @orihimi-19 @mostlymarvelgirl (let me know if you wanna be added to a permanent bucky taglist)

divider by @/cafekitsune

#bucky barnes #writerblr #bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x fluff #angst

[thisis-an-original-name]

totally respect people tearing Taylor down after that subpar album but I’d like to take this space to hype up other female artists who haven’t completely drained their creative wells. Welcome to C’s music recs (women only because disliking Taylor doesn’t make you a misogynist.)

1. Cowboy Carter. Oh my god. This woman never misses. Beyoncé is consistently fantastic no matter what she’s up to. My personal favorites are AMERIICAN REQUIEM, PROTECTOR, and 16 CARRIAGES. This album feels a bit like listening to the radio while also listening to someone’s life story and it’s goddamn insane.

2. I listened to Feminomenon for the first time yesterday and I was jamming so hard. Yes Chappell Roan I too will prioritize my own wants and needs over the attention of some mediocre man who does not deserve me thank you queen. Like seriously I can’t stand clubbing but now I want to go out clubbing just so that I can dance to this song with my friends.

3. One of three songs that I actually enjoy on TTPD is Florida!!! And it’s only because of Florence. Because holy shit, Florence. I’ve become unhealthfully obsessed with Dream Girl Evil, Ship to Wreck, Shake It Out, Big God and Hunger.

4. Olivia Rodrigo continues to kill it. If my future relationship isn’t like so american, I don’t want it. And I know it’s been a while but Can’t Catch Me Now is still on my Heavy Rotation Replay every single week.

5. This is preemptive but…. New Billie Eilish in a month?????? Hell yes????

6. Honorable and continuous credit to Penelope Scott and Lorde

#feminism #i love women #anti taylor swift #taylor swift #chapell roan #beyonce #florence and the machine #billie eilish #olivia rodrigo #Penelope Scott #lorde

[ohmtoff]

Shots, shots, shots (Part 2)

Nick Sturniolo x Masc!OC

read part 1

Summary: Nick is most definitely not having fun at a frat party Madi dragged him to, but this boy who’s staring at him hungrily may help him to have a good time (or: a very cliche and very self-indulgent fic of Nick getting it on with a frat bro)

WC: 5.5k

Contains: college!AU, frat bro!oc, anal sex, bottom!nick, top!oc, making out, blow job, rimming, fingering, dirty talk, slight spanking, light dom/sub, slight slut shaming

Disclaimer: read part 1 for background. will contain grammar mistakes, english is not my first language

a/n: well. this was a beast to write LMAO. so sorry for the long wait, i've just been rlly demotivated to write and my draft was just so so long that i often got overwhelmed and just didnt revise it altogether😭 anyways hope it isn't too long and hope you enjoyyy

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

“Welcome to my room, also known as the room of the president of this shithole.” Evan plops himself down in the rolling chair at his desk, turning to face Nick on the bed. “Does that make this the shithole headquarters? Shoes off please.”

Nick groans, hiding his face in his hands, peeking out from in between his fingers in embarrassment, pulling off his shoes and throwing them over to Evan who arranges them neatly next to his at the door. “Please, don’t. I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t lie baby. You meant every word."

The objection from before comes out sharply. “I thought I told you not to call me baby.”

Evan pouts, jutting out his lower lip and widening his eyes in a silent plea. “But I rather like the nickname on you. Very fitting. And becoming.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Evan pauses, lost in a moment of thought before turning his gaze back towards Nick, his brows drawn together. “How about we make a deal…” The other boy starts slowly, choosing his words carefully. “…if I can make you like being called baby by the end of the night, I get to keep calling you baby.”

“And if you can’t? What do I get in return?”

“I stop calling you baby.”

“That hardly seems fair.” Now it’s Nick’s turn to pout. “That doesn’t seem like much of a prize for winning.” Time to have a little fun.  He continues, slyly. “How about if I win, then I get to call you princess?” Evan visibly blanches, and Nick’s inner self laughs as he watches the color drain from the other boy’s face. Priceless. “What?” Nick goes wide-eyed, blinking with a faux innocence. “You need to be able to take what you dish out too, Evan.”

The other boy laughs. “Fair enough. Deal.” Nick quivers as Evan’s eyes darken, one side of his mouth quirked up in a perceptive smile. “But I’ll just have you know, I never lose.”

Okay, a bit conceited, but undeniably also hot.

Evan paces over, plopping down next to him on the bed, and in one swift motion, pulls him over into his lap. Nick holds his breath as the other boy stares at him, tracing over every inch of his face with his eyes. He lets out a little gasp as Evan presses his thumb into the corner of his mouth, pulling down a bit so he can taste the other boy. And he hopes his lips are luscious enough from his watermelon lip balm as Evan starts running his thumb along his bottom lip, Nick’s tongue darting out to wet his lips unconsciously, brushing against the other boy’s finger. A low groan rises from Evan, and Nick takes in delightedly seeing the other boy’s pupils dilate with arousal. “Fuck, Nick. You’re really pretty, you know that?”

“Of course I do.” The words come out with a lot more bravado than he feels as Evan’s other hand tightens on his waist, his thumb rubbing small circles over his skin. Nick had expected everything to happen fast and hard so the way the other boy is studying him so intently is a bit disconcerting, the attention bringing out a sudden shyness from him, unsure of what he should do or say. Evan trails his hand down to his neck, splaying his fingers out against Nick’s skin, thumb running along his jaw.

“Beautiful.” The word comes out drawn-out, Evan breathing all his longing into it, and Nick’s eyes automatically close, letting it run through him as the other boy presses down on the pulse point of his neck, feeling the blood rushing to his head. His breath hitches as Evan starts at his collarbones, searing open-mouthed kisses into his skin, the tip of the other boy’s tongue forming small circles as he moves upwards, Evan’s lips soft against his skin. Evan goes slow, a bit too slow for his taste, and his impatience tears a needy whine from his throat, tugging on the other boy’s hair for emphasis, making Evan let out a low throaty chuckle against his neck. “Be patient, baby.”

Nick doesn’t have the energy to object, breathing heavily as the other boy finally reaches his mouth, Evan’s hand cupping his face, fingers spread over his cheek tilting his head, and Nick moans into the kiss as Evan catches his lower lip first, gently nibbling. God. And the other boy’s mouth is moving over his, tasting like drunken mistakes, and Nick can’t tell whether it’s him moaning or Evan anymore as the other boy deepens the kiss, his tongue hot and heavy in his mouth. The pleasure mounts, and Nick whines, desperately trying to find some relief as he feels himself getting hard, grinding onto Evan’s lap as the other boy runs his tongue over his.

Evan breaks off their kiss first, nuzzling into his neck, murmuring. “So needy baby, and we’re not even close to done.” Then fuck me already. “If you’re really that desperate already, you’re welcome to ride my thighs as we make out.” The noise of indignance from Nick makes the other boy laugh.

“I thought we came upstairs to fuck.” Nick hisses, halfway affronted that Evan hasn’t even made a move to take off his clothes, his cock starting to feel uncomfortably restrained in his jeans.

“Don’t worry, you’re definitely going to get fucked baby.” Evan grins at him cheekily. “But I enjoy playing with my food before eating it.” The analogy makes Nick flushes, the thought of the other boy eating him out very appealing right now. 

Nick lets the other boy lift him up slightly, Evan’s hands taking the chance to squeeze his ass, rearranging him so he has the other boy’s thigh squarely between his legs, the feeling of Evan’s tensing underneath him making his cock twitch. Evan steadies him with hands on his waist, his own hands resting on Evan’s shoulders as he starts moving, feeling the friction of Evan’s body against him building his excitement. Nick whines when the other boy makes no move to do anything as he starts falling into a rhythm. Don’t just stop. Evan seems to understand without him saying anything further, mouth curving into a half-smile. “I like to watch sometimes. Pretty things deserve to be admired.”

The words only deepen his arousal, making it pool in his stomach as he moves, closing his eyes and letting the feeling overtake him. Nick moans as he feels Evan’s lips on him, kittenish licks against his sensitive skin as he rolls his hips against the other boy, slow and hard. “Mmm, your thighs are actually quite nice though.”

Nick inhales as Evan scrapes his teeth against his skin, the rough feeling a sharp contrast from his previous kisses, murmuring. “I don’t know whether I should take that as a compliment or be insulted that you sound surprised about it.”

“It’s not like I would kn-“ His words are cut off abruptly as Evan slides his hand fully underneath his shirt, brushing his thumb over his nipple, drawing out another low moan as Evan pinches it, rolling his nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“But yes. Lots and lots of squats. And playing soccer for the school team.”

“Are you any good?”

“Yeah," Evan’s breath is hot against his ear, teasingly sweet, the whisper making a thrill run through him. “Added plus if you like it, baby.”

“I-I d-do.” Nick curses himself for stammering, the other boy choosing that exact instant to start nibbling on his earlobe again, a particularly sensitive spot for him. Evan’s throaty moan into his ear almost physically hurts, the hand cupping his ass and squeezing not helping matters.

“God, fuck. Vou meter em você ate você gritar meu nome.”

Nick doesn’t understand what it means, but the low growl into his ear makes him aroused anyway, the urge to be fucked getting stronger by the minute. “Don’t know what the fuck you just said, but it sounded hot.”

“I said I’m gonna fuck you until you scream my name.” Nick gasps as Evan bites down a bit hard at the base of his neck, surely leaving a mark on his skin for tomorrow. And he doesn’t think he minds, the thought of everyone knowing about this making him curl up on the inside with embarrassment that somehow only serves to heighten his arousal. But maybe it doesn’t even matter if Evan leaves any marks as half the room had seen them go upstairs together. 

“Then do it.” His sharp demand just makes the other boy shake his head, the amusement at his frustration evident on Evan’s features. The other boy leans backwards languidly, resting with his elbows on the bed, stopping to just stare at him. The silence goes on for too long, and Nick can feel himself getting flushed as Evan does nothing but rake his gaze over him. “What?”

The other boy comes closer slowly, taking his goddamn time, and Nick feels as if his audacity may have gotten him into trouble, Evan looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. He doesn’t move as the other boy gets closer, the feeling of Evan’s fingers on his lips again, nail digging in at the corner of his mouth, dipping in ever so slightly. And Nick parts his lips, mewling as the other boy slips them in, automatically sucking, the anticipation of possibly having Evan’s fingers curling deliciously in his ass making him eager and hungry. The fingers pressing down on his tongue, sliding further back makes him nearly gag, and Evan strokes his cheek in response, murmuring an apology, pulling his fingers out slightly as Nick continues to slick them with saliva.

“Pretty mouth, sharp tongue.” He makes a noise of displeasure when Evan takes out his fingers. “I bet you look beautiful sucking cock.” The bold statement makes him flush, makes him remember his earlier thoughts, his eyes flicking downwards to stare again at the other boy’s tattoo, somehow forgotten and like a distant memory.

It ripples when he breathes.

Evan’s amused laugh makes him feel embarrassed, caught staring a few beats too long. “Do you like it?” The other boy’s fingers run through his hair, ruffling it, his thumb brushing Nick’s cheek. “Does it turn you on?” Nick doesn’t know what to say. “I’ll tell you a secret.” Evan’s breath on his ear. “If it turns you on, it means you really like get railed in bed baby. Especially by me.” The slow grin spreads over the other boy’s face as Evan watches his eyes widen, his mouth gaping, utterly speechless.

Evan’s eyes narrow, his voice low and silky, no longer playful and amused, and Nick finds it difficult to swallow as he sees Evan slowly unbuckling his belt, counting the belt holes one by one as the the other boy pulls at the end excruciatingly slowly. One. Two. Three. Four. And he’s waiting, his body coiled tightly, the tenseness making him almost shiver as he watches, the top button and the zipper that comes down slowly.

The red of Evan’s boxers are showing now, the sharp edge against the other boy’s skin. “I want you on your knees.” The words are demanding, suffocating, and Nick finds the other boy isn’t the only one that wants him on his knees, the prospect of having more than just fingers in his mouth making him dizzy. He gets up obediently, waiting what seems like forever for Evan to part his legs, and the other boy pats his inner thigh, motioning for him. “Come, baby.” Nick bites his lower lip, wanting to retort, but Evan’s head is tilted dangerously, his expression calculating, and the words leave no room for argument, short and clipped.

He drops to his knees, Evan’s hand at the back of his neck guiding him closer, his other hand pulling down the waistband of his boxers so that his cock spills out, the full barrel of the other boy’s gun tattoo coming into view, and Nick isn’t sure which is hotter, the desire for Evan to fuck his brains out overwhelming him. At least I know it does point to his cock. And maybe on a good day, he’d find this arrogant, but right now, he just wants his mouth to be filled.

“Can you show me how good you are at sucking cock baby?” The other boy cradles his cheek, his thumb caressing his jawline, and it feels soft, the light touch making him want to please, nodding his head. Evan’s fingers tighten in his hair as he goes down, slowly wrapping his mouth around just the tip, gaze turned upwards to stare at the other boy prettily, knowing the effect it has. Two can play at this game. Evan doesn’t disappoint, a low moan drawn out of him as Nick moves down slowly, getting used to the feeling of the other boy’s length in his mouth, too long since the last time he’s sucked cock.

But judging by the noises the other boy is making, he sure hasn’t forgotten how to.

Nick sucks harder, hollowing out his cheeks, attempting to go down as far as he can, feeling the tip in the back of his throat, thankful that he doesn’t have much of a gag reflex. He goes slow, wanting to savor the feeling of fullness in his mouth, letting his lips slide along the other boy’s cock, wetting it with his tongue, running it along the vein down the side, imagining Evan filling his ass. His eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he feels Evan tugging on his hair lightly, urging him to go faster, ignoring the spit that dribbles out as he half gags on the other boy’s cock. He’s always given messy blowjobs anyway. But Evan’s thumb wipes at the corner of his mouth, smearing a trail across his cheek, a dirtiness that feels all too enthralling.

“Baby, you look so pretty like this.” The breathy compliment only encourages him further, his head bobbing up and down at a quickened pace. And he’s given up trying to be coy, concentrating instead on Evan’s tattoo as he moves up and down, remembering his shameless display of behavior from earlier in the night, licking all the way down trying to get in the other boy’s pants. Trying to get here, with Evan’s cock shoved in his mouth. Nick moans as the other boy gets a little too impatient, the hand at the back of his head now pushing him down firmly, his hips rolling upwards to meet Nick’s mouth.

“Fuck, fuck.”

He knows what the swears mean, and Nick tries eagerly to make it happen, his hands bracing themselves on Evan’s ass, waiting for his chance to taste the other.

Evan pulls out of his mouth and Nick can’t hide his disappointment, a whine coming out unwittingly. That whine was replaced with a gasp as the other boy leans down and kisses him. Nick is swallowed up by Evan completely, taking out all the air in his lungs. They’re both panting heavily when Evan stops, his hand caressing Nick’s cheek, a nice, even, slow touch that feels both heavy and light all at the same time.

“I want to come in you.” Evan kisses the tip of his nose, a soft peck that makes Nick’s the butterflies in his stomach fly up into his chest, the action and words making him feel two entirely different things. The other boy doesn’t wait for him to respond, getting up and squatting down to sweep him up bridal style, one arm cradled under his knees, the other at his back, the change making him let out a squeak of surprise.

He wraps his arms around the other boy’s neck instinctively, the twinge of soreness in his knees only noticeable now that he isn’t on the floor anymore.  Evan deposits him on the bed gently, his head settling on the pillow, suddenly feeling small as the other boy looms over him, Evan making quick work of pulling off his pants, his boxers, and Nick stares as the expanse of skin comes into view, the other boy fully naked.

Evan pauses for a second, hesitant, before asking, his voice catching in his throat. “Can I undress you baby?”

He nods, not daring to make a sound, holding his breath as Evan starts from the bottom, unbuttoning his pants, and Nick lifts his butt upwards slightly so the other boy can pull them off, his boxers coming off right after, his cock still hard, hissing as the cold-ish air hits his skin. And then the tank top is being pulled over his head, his arms stretched upwards. He moans as the other boy starts planting kisses over his body, starting from his neck and trailing downwards to his cock, a groan of need vibrating in the back of his throat as Evan kisses the tip, bucking his hips up for more, hands pressing in a burning warmth over the skin of his inner thighs.

“Baby.” Evan says it almost reverently, as if Nick is everything, and he feels every syllable down to his toes and tips of his fingers as Evan continues. “You’re so beautiful. And fuckable.” And it’s the way the other boy says it, the tone a mix between waiting to worship and use him, that gets him off, and Nick thinks that maybe he’s in trouble. “Get on your hands and knees for me. Facing that way.”

Nick does, facing the closed door to Evan’s room in anticipation. He can hear the other boy shifting on the bed behind him, feeling Evan’s hand on his ass, one hand squeezing lightly. The sound of a drawer opening, the other boy rummaging around for a few moments. “Fuck.” The tone isn’t encouraging, and Nick glances back, trying to get a glimpse of Evan. “I ran out of condoms.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Nick groans as he falls over on to the bed on his back, looking up to stare with wide-eyed disappointment at Evan, who’s running his hand through his black hair, the frustration knotting his brows together as he stares down at his phone. “No, I’m not, but just lemme text Nate. He’ll just steal some from his roommate.” Nick nearly gets his head taken off as the other boy throws a few things at him. “In the meantime, pick your favorite flavor.”

“My what?” Nick looks down at the colorful bottles presented to him. “Oh my god, who the fuck needs this much lube?”

Evan laughs. “I like to provide options baby.”

Nick stares at the other boy, aghast. “Why don’t you just use plain old lube.”

“Mmm.” Evan leans down to kiss him, his teeth catching Nick’s bottom lip in a small bite. “Because I want to eat you out until your legs shake so hard you can’t keep yourself up.” The other boy ends with statement with a kiss on his forehead. “So pick.”

Nick bites his bottom lip so a pathetic whine won’t come out his mouth. “Fine, strawberry.”

There’s a knock on the door, the sound of Nate’s voice making its way through from the other side. “You’re the fucking worst, Evan. I was talking to that hot AKA girl I told you about and I was so close to kissing her. But yeah, leaving the box out here like you asked, you ingrate.”

“Sorry, man.” Evan laughs his friend’s outrage.

Evan strides to the door, opening it just a crack and crouching down to sneak his hand out before retrieving the box, closing the door firmly behind him.

Nick eyes the other boy, not quite trusting Evan quite so much now. After all, Evan quite literally just had to phone-a-friend to get condoms. “Aren’t you going to lock the door?” The other boy grins at him, the smile spreading across his face in unrestrained delight. “Why? Does it bother you? Scared someone will walk in?”

“No.” Nick raises his voice defensively, not willing to admit any sign of weakness. “Just thought it might be best since, you know, like a quarter of the school is downstairs partying.”

“Mmm, but doesn’t the possibility of getting caught turn you on baby?” Evan tilts his chin up, staring down at him teasingly, the dangerous look lighting the arousal in his groin again, feeling his cock respond even if his mind doesn’t want to admit it. “The thought that someone could walk in and see me fucking you from behind. Or on your back while I’m plowing into you. Or you bouncing on my dick. ” Evan’s eyes narrow, Nick’s dilated pupils making him more than a little excited, anticipation curling in his stomach again. 

“Not really.”

“Hmmm, I thought you’d be the type that is into that sort of thing.” Evan smiles at him, all too innocently. “Maybe you will be the next time I fuck you.” Nick squeals as the other boy brings his hands up underneath his ass where he’s sitting, pushing him upwards, back into position on his hands and knees. “Don’t worry, we have plenty of time to find out if you do like it baby.” Nick moans, feeling Evan’s hands on his waist, fingers digging into his hips, spreading his ass with his hands, his thumbs digging into his skin, the slight puff of hot breath against his asshole making him automatically clench. “And it’s okay, people know what my door being closed means.”

He hears the sound of the cap being opened, the splutter of lube being squeezed out, and he hisses at the cold feeling, Evan rubbing his thumb in circles over his asshole, the feeling him pressing inwards slightly making him tense. And the other boy spreads his cheeks again, blowing, the cold making the goosebumps rise up on his skin, a shiver run through him.

Nick moans, exhaling a huge breath, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he feels Evan’s tongue against him, lapping, licking at his asshole, smearing the lube around, the wetness spreading to the inside of his thighs. The gasp is ripped from him as he feels the other boy dip his tongue in, the heated feeling making him push his ass backwards, desperately craving more. Nick mewls as Evan alternates between pushing his tongue in and light sucks, the other boy’s nose pressed up against his skin. Fuck. And his thighs are already starting to quiver, his legs feeling weak as Evan tongue fucks him, his moans muffled and lost in the other boy’s bedsheets, his face pressed into the bed, all his effort spent trying to keep his ass nice and high up in the air for Evan, the smell of citrus on the sheets filling his nose, reminding him of the smell in the other boy’s hair.

His noises only encourage Evan, and Nick lets out a pant of desire when the other reaches around to fist his cock, the slow stroking motion making the arousal build, Evan’s thumb smearing the precum over the tip. “Fuck, Evan, please.” Nick is only half aware of the other boy, the sound of his wanton moans filling the room, flooding his mind. “P-Please, please. Get in me.” His voice is shaky, his words garbled and only half-formed, dropping from his lips like small spurts of begging before ending in breathless moans. Rinse and repeat. He feels the loss as Evan stops his ministrations, the growl about to come out, but before he can protest, he feels Evan’s finger, slicked and probing at his hole, the first digit sliding in easily as Nick dissolves into a needy moan, Evan pumping into him far too slowly.

More.

He whines, and Evan chuckles, words low and sweet. “You’re so needy baby.” Nick doesn’t even gasp as the second finger goes in, the feeling of being filled every so slightly, Evan’s fingers slick against the inside of his walls as they move in and out. The gasp only comes as the other boy stretches him out, fingers spreading apart to scissor him open, a slow and steady stretch that makes Nick whimper with want to be filled with more. “So needy and beautiful for me, on your hands and knees. More?” The other boy doesn’t wait for his response, eliciting a sharp cry from Nick as a third finger is inserted, a feeling of fullness finally overcoming him, his hole clenching around Evan’s fingers as they go in. His legs are finally starting to give out, his thighs trembling even more as Evan runs his fingers in between his legs, and the other boy finally finds the sweet spot, Nick crying out as Evan brushes against it, curling his fingers deep into his ass, releasing the tension in his body that he isn’t even aware that he’s holding. He scrabbles at the sheets, digging his fingers in, moaning brokenly. “Oh, oh, oh, theretherethere, please, oh god.”

And he’s on the brink, the repeated pleasure as Evan thrusts his fingers in sending him into a dizzy spiral, the need to release hitting him hard and fast. “Shi-Evan, ‘m gonna come, want you in me so bad, please, please– Ev, c’mon, fuck me.”

It happens so fast that Nick nearly doesn’t realize, only the sound of the condom packaging ripping, the noise seemingly too loud, drowning out everything else in his head, and his low whimper at being denied his release provoking a guttural groan from Evan.

Nick groans as he feels Evan’s tip push into him. The latter continues to push himself in gently, knowing he’s big and Nick needs to take his time to fully get used to his girth. Nick can feel himself being stretched out even further, panting heavily at the feeling of the biggest cock he’s ever had.

“That’s it,” Evan praises, “that’s my baby,” he coos, Nick’s high-pitched moan falling out of his mouth involuntarily as he forces himself to relax and not clench too much, letting Evan fill him nicely. He feels incredibly full when Evan snaps his dick in before letting go, letting Nick dictate the rhythm and rock back onto his dick. “Perfect,” Evan grunts, enjoying the view of Nick’s ass rippling as it bounces on his hips. The sound of Nick’s desperate and wet moans accompanied with the slap, slap, slap of his ass hitting the other’s hips filling the room.

It was when Nick falls into a sex-drunk state, begging and moaning as he moves without an ounce of rhythm, just pure desperation that Evan grabs his hips and arches his back even more, angling his ass even higher into the air. Nick lets out a helpless whimper as Evan thrusts straight back into him, hands angrily grabbing Nick’s hips as he gives no time to wait, just jackhammers into Nick who is desperate for that sweet relief, a string of curse words and interrupted moans loudly falling out his lips as Evan takes him roughly, quickly.

“You love it, don’t you?,” Evan grits out, thrusts stuttering and brutal as Nick knows he’s about to come, “love being bent over, thick ass in the air,” he grunts, slapping Nick’s ass with a force than means there’ll be a handprint there for days, making the other squeal. “You love being a slut for me, huh?”

“I’m – I’m – please!- ” The brunette sobs, Evan nailing him on his prostate at every thrust.

“F-fuck, Nick. I’m close.”

It’s Evan’s awed wonder and pure arousal breathed into his name that does him in, making his body tense and his hole to tighten. Nick hears Evan let off a barrage of swearing, the thrusts into him becoming more forceful, the bed creaking with his brutal pounding, Evan’s grip on his waist tightening hard enough that Nick’s sure he’ll leave bruises blooming tomorrow as a reminder of tonight. And at first he thinks he’s chasing the high, but it’s the high chasing him as the spring coiling tightly finally releases.

He comes hard and fast, his mouth open in a silent scream as he falls limp, his legs fully giving way, his body continuing to ride out whatever Evan gives him, the other boy’s final few thrusts only extending his ebbing pleasure. Nick weakly cries out when he feels Evan come inside him, pulsating against his walls. Evan presses his front to Nick’s back as he groans, his thighs shaking from exertion and the earth-shattering orgasm.  

Nick winces when the other boy finally does pull out, feeling hollow as Evan brushes his lips against his ass, peppering kisses against his skin as he lets Nick sink into the bed. He feels sated, still riding the high from his orgasm, and he lets out a slight groan of protest as Evan wraps his arms around him, pulling him in to spoon, the stickiness uncomfortable against his ass. He lets the other boy do it anyway, the warm breath against the back of his neck comforting as they cuddle.

It was when he was seconds away from closing his eyes that he has the daunting realization that he wasn’t supposed to be there. He maneuvers his upper body slightly, using his arms as leverage to pry himself from Evan’s grasp, rolling himself over to face the other boy, grimacing as his ass complains. Well, that’s gonna hurt in the morning. He’s not quite sure what to say, how to respond to the other boy, who seems to be half-asleep already as well, eyes blinking slowly, gaze unfocused as he searches Nick’s face.

“Well,” Nick coughs, feeling the regret starting to seep into him at letting this beautiful stranger fuck him into the best sex he’s had in months--maybe ever. The realization that he’s likely just another weekend hookup. “Uhh, this was good.” He wants to kick himself immediately after saying it, the words feeling unwieldy and awkward in his mouth. “I mean, this was great.” The greatest I’ve ever had. “But I think I’ve got to get going now. I mean, Madi’s probably wondering where I am and stuff, and it’s getting kind of late.” Nick feels himself babbling in his panicked state, but the words make Evan’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide-awake, an incredulous look on the other boy’s face.

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Nick chews on his lower lip, suddenly acutely aware that he’s still naked, the thought of the few agonizing minutes pulling on all his clothes before he can sneak out of Evan’s room making the feeling of dread pool in his stomach. “I mean, I’m going to leave now? That’s what you want right? Just to fuck?”

“God, no.” Evan sits up, back ramrod straight, staring at him with an intensity that pins Nick down, unmoving. “First off, Madi is not going to miss you in the slightest.” The other boy pauses. “No offense, I’m sure you two have a great friendship, but I’m pretty sure she’s still occupied trying to get her tongue to touch a pledge’s tonsils right now.” Evan knits his eyebrows together in dismay. “And second, the only place you’re going right now is into the bathroom with me so we can shower, and I can clean you off.”

“Wait, you don’t want me to leave?” Nick asks hesitantly, the hope blooming in his chest.

The other boy gives him a confused look. “Wait, what did you think this is?”

“Uhhh, a one-night stand?”

The sharp bark of laughter from Evan startles him, seemingly out of character for the situation at hand. “Oh shit, wow. I guess Madi’s plan was to just… bring you here and hope we hit it off. It worked, of course.” Evan shakes his head, amused. “Madi’s been trying to set me up with you for months. Actually, before you even broke up with your ex-boyfriend I think. She spent the whole last semester ranting to me about how she hated your ex’s guts.” Evan’s eyes darken. “Something about not treating you right.” Nick gapes at him as Evan shakes his head. “She told me she’d drag you out tonight to meet me, but I guess she didn’t exactly tell you.”

“Oh.” Nick can feel his cheeks heating up, the warm fuzzy feeling entering his veins with an exhilaration he doesn’t expect. “So this wasn’t a one-time thing?”

“No, baby.” Evan sighs, pulling him into a hug, planting a kiss on his forehead before dragging him down into an embrace on the bed. “I’ll fuck you forever. Let me treat you dinner tomorrow? Maybe also a blowjob afterwards.”

Ugh, how romantic.

Maybe Nick doesn’t quite mind being called baby after all.

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tags: @taycherouz08 @piecesofreeses @ameerahsblog @nicksbf @thenickgirl

#nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x oc #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x male reader #sturniolo triplets fanfiction

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 14

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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“agh— be more gentle!”

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

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

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

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

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

childe pauses thoughtfully and proceeds to pout.

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

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

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

his war medals.

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

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

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

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

it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

“what about ‘em?” he whispers expectantly.

“i like them.”

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

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

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

to your lips.

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

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

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

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

knock knock knock knock!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…what.

“what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your chest feels overwhelmingly tight.

—

who knew such a resplendent room could be so suffocating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a chill runs down your spine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but speaking of innocent…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[timeofjuly]

Soulmates in Wishbone, or how I think the soulmate trope would shape the culture of a Swapfell Underground.

Disclaimer: worldbuilding is not one of my strengths lol, so take this more as rambly what-if speculation than anything concrete. If I end up contradicting any of this in the fic, shhh no I didn't.

@blurry-palmetto wanted to hear more about soulmates in my swapfell soulmate au fic Wishbone, so instead of replying to their comment like a normal person, here’s a whole long ass post below the cut!

Here’s a recap of what we know about how soulmates work in the fic:

The soulmate bond is solidified by physical touch.

Soulmates share HP, LV, and EXP.

Soulmates can share physical sensation.

Soulmates can access each other’s thoughts, feelings, and Intent.

They can share their own of all of the above with their soulmate.

They can also prevent their soulmate from accessing these things.

Both of the above are learned skills that require effort to execute. Without knowing how to be intentional with the bond, you just kinda end up transmitting everything to your soulmate all day long.

Soulmates are unable to FIGHT each other.

The death of one soulmate results in the death of the other(s).

Extended time away from your soulmate(s) results in soulmate sickness. For Papyrus, this manifested as feelings of itchiness, restlessness, insomnia, palpable anxiety. Increased physical distance between him and the reader worsened these symptoms.

Soulmates are a strictly monster thing: all monsters have a soulmate, and those soulmates can be other monsters, or they can be humans. There are no human/human soulmate bonds. Two humans can be soulmates with the same monster, though.

Any number of people can be soulmates in many different configurations. In Wishbone, the reader is in a wishbone, V-shaped bond with Sans and Papyrus, where they’re the middle bit and the brothers branch off from them.

Before the events of the first chapter of Wishbone, there were no mage/monster soulmate bonds.

Nobody has ever survived an attempt to break a soulmate bond.

For Wishbone, it was important to have two differing cultural views on soulmates because I wanted there to be a huge disparity between how Sans and Papyrus approach the bond compared to the reader. This choice was made for a few reasons, but mostly for maximum angst potential lmao (the driving force behind most Wishbone related decisions). I wanted the soulmate phenomenon to be deeply respected and revered by the monsters, a cultural tenet akin to children wearing stripes and respect for the monarch. A Big Deal, basically. This is juxtaposed with the reader’s disdain and ignorance - they have no idea how any of this works because soulmates weren't a Thing before the barrier broke, and they don’t really care to know, because the bond is nothing but a Big Problem they plan on rectifying. Yay to miscommunication and misunderstanding!

Now, for the monsters to feel that reverence, there has to be some advantage to having a soulmate Underground, right? Particularly in the cut-throat environment of Swapfell (or any Fellverse in general) - if this was just another glaring weakness ready to be exploited, everyone would do their best to avoid meeting their soulmate.

This brings us to:

Soulmates in a Fell Underground; what’s so good about having a soulmate, anyway?

First off, let’s talk about the downsides.

The biggest one is if your soulmate dies, that’s it for you too. You share HP and if you’re both drained, you’re dust. No second chances. This is obviously a massive, easily exploited weakness, and one that I think would’ve shaped the way soulmates cohabitate and interact with each other. I mention in the second chapter of Wishbone that typically the weaker monster(s) will move in with the stronger; this is one of those things that would’ve arisen to protect against this weakness. I think collars would exist for a similar reason in this universe.

Soulmate sickness. An issue if you’re separated from your soulmate, but it would’ve been much rarer Underground. In terms of sheer physical space available, it’d be pretty hard to get physically far enough to cause major issues, and like Papyrus says in Wishbone, soulmates don’t try to avoid each other. The situation in the fic is practically unprecedented.

For the stronger monster, you’re now responsible to ensure the survival of someone(s) weaker than you. Kinda hard to just look out for number one now. You’ve got a whole other person/group of people to keep safe and happy. That's a lot of pressure!

For the weaker monster, you might now find yourself the target of someone seeking to hurt your stronger soulmate(s).

All of that really sucks. There’s gotta be some pretty good benefits to offset all of those downsides.

And there are!

You get to share HP, EXP, LV. We’ve touched on the negatives, but there’s a huge advantage to this too. Not everyone’s bound to a soulmate. In a fight with an unbound person vs a bound one, the bound one theoretically has access to double the power.

Having a soulmate gives you a built-in ally, someone you can trust to have your back. They’ll always have your best interests at heart, because their interests are yours. Underground, this would’ve been an advantage to have over your unbound counterparts who can’t really trust their allies fully.

There’s also all the stuff Papyrus said when he was telling the Second Mage about the origin/purpose of soulmates. Monster souls are composed of love, hope, and compassion, and they inherently seek connection with others. He explains that soulmates have existed for as long as monsters can remember, as a way for souls to find individuals who can fulfill their need for hope, trust, love, and compassion. In an Underground where finding this with others was scarce, this is a big bonus. (As a side note, I think this adds a new layer to Sans’ glove wearing. The gloves actively prevent him from touching others and finding a soulmate. For a tactically minded person who is very aware of the strategic bonus of a soulmate, it says a lot that he's purposely passing up on all of those benefits.)

And that’s just all the purely practical stuff. Finding your soulmate(s) is highly romanticised. A bright spot in the otherwise bleak Underground. The stuff of fairytales - literally, Sans talks about telling those stories to Papyrus in chapter 2. There’s a reason Papyrus is so excited to be a soulmate (note that he’s not fussed about who that soulmate actually is).

Okay, but now the barrier’s broken and everyone’s above ground. Now what?

Great question, hypothetical person!

Firstly: a whole lotta monsters find their soulmates in humans. Remember how monsters can have soulmates in monsters and/or humans? This means that lots of monsters Underground were unable to meet their human, above ground soulmates. Now that they're free, this changes. This is a mostly good thing for the monsters, but I'm sure that a lot of humans in pre-existing relationships now had to grapple with the fact that they're now telepathically bound to their literal soulmate after accidentally brushing hands at the grocery store.

In the wider context of human society, I think there’d be mixed reactions, but what’s more shocking, monsters having soulmates or the mere existence of monsters in the first place? I think by the time everyone gets over the monster thing, the whole monster soulmate thing would be a lot less crazy in comparison.

In the context of mage society - before Wishbone, this just wasn’t an issue, because everyone thought that monsters can’t have mage soulmates. We’re now dealing with the fallout from realising that isn’t the case in the fic.

Where does this leave us?

A fun angsty playground to play around in, full of pits and spikes and traps, in my opinion! There’s so much cultural stuff that the reader insert in Wishbone just doesn’t get. Rules and norms and expectations that they know nothing about and can't really learn on their own, because so much of this knowledge is passed down through oral storytelling.

This is just another issue the characters need to contend with - they aren’t on equal footing for a million reasons, and one of those reasons is that they all know and believe different things about the bond and nobody is communicating about any of it. Well, Papyrus tried, but was shut down immediately. Which makes sense - he tried because he wants to have a proper, close bond with the reader, the kind he's wanted his whole life, and the reader shut it down because they have no interest in any of that. Not to mention round-the-clock glove wearing Sans, who has some pre-existing Issues with the idea of having a soulmate altogether.

But like Papyrus said, the supposed purpose of the bond is to help people get their fix of love, hope, and compassion, things that all three of them need if they ever want to be truly happy. In particular; Papyrus is desperate to be loved, and also doesn’t love himself; Sans has put so much space between himself and compassion as a protective measure over the years that it’s almost completely foreign to him, both feeling it for others (note that the Second Mage invokes reluctant compassion in him almost immediately, despite how much he hates them) and accepting it from those who care about him; and the reader, someone so focussed on building a better future for others, is completely without hope on a personal level because they see no future for themselves in the wake of the loss of their twin.

So, in theory, this whole soulmate thing could be good for all of them. I guess we'll just have to see if that's the case in practice.

#July talks wishbone #I am so sorry blurry-palmetto for this info dump #but. if you or anyone has more questions. pls send them my way #walking through it like this was actually very fun and helpful for me

[crybaby-bkg]

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Want me to kiss it where it hurts?” Kirishima purrs up at you, his place between your thighs seemingly the closest thing he can get to ascension. His eyes are wide, his pupils blown out, any red swallowed up by the lust pooling in his eyes. he looks like the picture of adoration and worship, all faux worry and pure hunger as he bounces between your gaze and the pretty picture that twitches in front of his face. his eyes cross to watch the slick ooze from your hole, sighing.

“It’s the least you could do for me,” you pout to him, running your nails through his soft locks, tugging a little meanly at the root. “After using me like a toy on your cock for so long.” Your words are sighed wistfully, your eyes betraying just how much you want his mouth on you as he wants to taste you. Kiri moans at that, quiet and in the back of his throat, but you hear it none the less.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he repents, but it’s all for naught when his tongue laves over your sensitivity and doesn’t let up until you’re crying from the overstimulation once more. he’s so sorry—that you can only cum so many times before you tap out. he’s so sorry—that your thighs are more sore from tightening up around his head than his working jaw. he’s so sorry—that you’re so addicting, that he can lay between your legs until his last breath leaves him.

#I am so tired #I feel like I say that every time I write in the tags LOL SORRY #but today was so nice and it drained me in the good way lol #anyway I realized today that I don’t write enough for him by himself #and I felt guilty 😔 #he’s just a big guy that doesn’t realize his own strength or stamina #and accidentally uses you like a little toy whenever he’s pent up #and he always tries to make it better with a kiss no matter where it’s at :((( #I love calling him big guy tho it’s my fav nickname #okay gn I sleeb now #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #kirishima treats! 🍬

[ch3rie-pop]

I’m here

It’s been a couple months. My mom restricted tumblr from my phone and uuuh, I can’t download anything without her knowing so that’s cool. I’m tired. I’m tired but I finally figured out the screen time passcode to my phone so I thought I’d talk with you all because I think some people might care 🤷‍♀️

It use to be bad (my mental state), but it’s mellowed out, I got use to it I guess. That being said I’m not sure about creating content too much, finding the time and motivation to is very difficult. It hurts coming back here and not feeling at home anymore. I don’t feel the same about art and I feel bland. Really meh. I want to go back but even if I tried to I think I’d just get beaten into the ground again (<- not literal please don’t call the cops).

That’s it I think. I love you very much and I hope you’re doing better than me right now.

#beloved mutuals #<- I can’t yell right now #sorry #I knew I’d freaking cry when I came back here ehdjsirhekwhdishd #emotionally drained #kind of a vent #? #I feel like I’m just being honest #But I do love you #I love you very much #Tumblr in general #Maybe not some of you (inkstargirl) but most of you were everything to me #And then you were gone #It’s not your fault and maybe not even mine #maybe that’s just how things work #which is so disgusting tbh :/ #But hey #We’re alive #we’ll do the best that we can #I feel gross #like hallow and crusty #Very dry #I hate it #I don’t think I’ll be the same after everything that’s happened #I’m fine #I think.

[ahundredtimesover]

Can we pls pls get a line from ch8 🥺

Spoiler 👇🏽

#mimianswers #fic: iwyts #also here to say that chapters will take longer to be posted from now on as I continue writing ch 12 and I’d forgotten how draining it is #like I love the editing process and I don’t wanna take the fun out of it by feeling pressured to post something every week and again #it has to be consistent and stuff but also I return to uni next week ! #TY for understanding!!

[salty-an-disco]

a bunch of discord reqs

#just asked for a bunch of reqs and been doing them everytime I feel like doodling and don’t know what to do lol #now I’m drained. but at least the doodle needs were fulfilled #voice of the smitten #voice of the hero #voice of the contrarian #contrahero #voice of the broken #voice of the cheated #voice of the cold #voice of the hunted #voice of the stubborn #voice of the paranoid #< damn. that’s a lot of guys #last one is with my magical girl au designs for Contra and Para (and also a lil hero lol) #slay the princess #stp voices #sal draws #sketches

[rayniscatstatue]

No but end of Stellarlune was hitting it with Sokeefitz

Like obviously Sophie and Keefe are now together by the end of Stellarlune, that’s a given after chapter 42. But then also Fitz had communicated with Keefe to be sure that Keefe was safe. After that he let Sophie know that Keefe was safe so Sophie wasn’t stressed out. Fitz doing this all knowing full well that Sophie and Keefe had kissed. Also before that Keefe decided to go to Elysian to make sure Sophie was safe. Sophie decided for Fitz to go to Elysian because she trusts him still after everything. Like the three of them are making sure the others are safe

The obvious love triangle solution is for Sophie and Keefe to sit Fitz down and tell him that they both like him. Then they all hug it out and everyone is happy including me

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #sophie foster #keefe sencen #fitz vacker #sokeefitz #sokeefe #sophitz #keefitz #my first long post in a while #like this is something #my energy is now all drained into this single post #I don’t think any more mugs of chai tea can get this energy back #also I feel like Fitz would love chai tea #that may just be because I love chai tea but I feel like Fitz would have a mug of it every morning #like it makes sense #I did not read through this post at all btw #like if there are stupid typos then oops #it is 8 pm for me #it is far too late for me to start procrastinating Sokeefitz essays #especially with my good sleep schedule I am somehow holding

[aceofstars16]

I’m not even sure how to phrase stuff, but mentally, spirituality, and emotionally (and physically if you count cold sores and being tired) I’m just…not doing great. I don’t really want to get out of bed in the morning, things I know I should be excited for, it’s hard to feel happy about. I’m just tired of being pushed down again and again, and I don’t have the care or energy to fight.

It started with church stuff, and that is the main reason I’m not really doing great again, but it was getting hard to motivate myself even before then, and now it just feels all pointless and I’m tired.

I don’t even know what to ask for prayer for because I feel so empty, but yeah, prayers appreciated I guess 🫠

#prayer request #I’m so tired of this #like two years of trying to work through stuff then what? four months (if even that) of doing slightly better #and then it all just breaks again #and I don’t feel like I have the faith to care or trust or believe anymore and I’m so tired of feeling like this #but I don’t have the strength to fight #I’m gonna sleep now but I’m just…really broken and empty and I don’t know what to do anymore #and it’s frustrating cause it’s little but the chosen sometimes did remind me of things and encourage me #but now it’s just like ‘oh more of the same kind of storytelling that I’m tired of’ #like the things that made it comforting and a breath of fresh air were flushed down the drain in s4 ep 3 #and sometimes I do okay if I’m drawing to just…distract myself but honestly that didn’t even help today

[robotic-maid]

How things are going again… update I guess? Still can’t figure out how to read more on mobile. I’m just typing this out so it can leave my head.

#nights are really hard for me #mornings are also really hard for me #I think my jobs burning me out #and I haven’t been able to sleep very well much at all #I’ve only been getting 3-5 hours if I’m lucky because my nightmares are really bad so I usually just stay awake #I mean I have to get up at 4am anyway so what’s the point #do you know how it feels to be in pain but you can’t cry because your body’s grown so used to it? #so it feels like crying because it’s Wednesday again #which I can’t justify because tommorrow is Thursday and that is your new normal #your new normal is working so hard you don’t have the time to see your dog and your cars ac is out and you spend all your money on the room #you sleep in 15 minutes away from the office you are stuck at more than 11hoirs a day #you ask your job to adjust your schedule and they say they can’t without cutting your hours and you need the money to survive #it’s too much #but feeling this way or not feeling this way won’t make a difference because the only other options will make your living situation harder #I’m so tired but I don’t have any better options right now so I have to keep waking up and working #I feel horrible spending time with me friends because I get tired after an hour and I worry that I’ve become #too flaky or something #I can’t stay up late and I’m already stressed out so I just can’t keep up with everyone and I don’t want to be a drain #I wish my heart would just stop some times #my meds stop me from hurting myself or crying or sleeping too long but these feelings always come to me when I wake up #I’m disappointed I woke up again #I don’t want to keep doing this I don’t know how long I can keep going #my body is breaking down like my car is breaking down #I don’t want to keep doing this I need more than a day off work a week I want to see my dog I don’t want to be poor but I don’t want to #wake up just to spend all day in an office getting yelled at while my coworkers come in and leave before me #I know I can do this I know I need to keep doing this I know there’s nothing better for me than this #I shouldn’t say these horrible things out loud because they’ll just wear me down faster #there’s nothing that will help me I need to help myself #this is en endurance test and I need to keep it up because if I fail I will lose so much more than I have #I wish I could cry I wish I could break down and scream but what would be the point? it won’t help it won’t fix anything m