#since the desert is hot in the day but cold at night

[annwrites]

please, god, please, take him instead.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you wake up with a cold, & once the two of you have reached vegas, for the next three days, billy prays to god that you don't slip away from him as he nurses you back to health.

— tags: ANGST, billy being a worrisome wreck, billy playing nurse to you, billy crying

— tw: medicine

— word count: 5,536

— a/n: find my other posts concerning billy here

When you wake the next morning, it's with a slight cough and the occasional sneeze. At first, you don't think much of it. Perhaps it was just the desert sand irritating your sinuses. Maybe it was the arid air. Maybe it was nothing.

You lean your head against the passenger side door frame, shutting your eyes.

You'd only been on the road for a little over two hours. Billy had suggested that morning—since you'd brought it up previously in Oklahoma—maybe the two of you make another little detour and check out Vegas for a few days, or a week. You'd agreed easily, excited to see it yourself. Excited to see it with him. Until you began to feel worse.

You were halfway there now, but another two hours seemed like a lifetime. All you wanted was a hot bath and a soft bed to lie down in. You wanted desperately to sleep. But the rumble of the engine, the music, the wind blowing through the open windows—your head felt like it was ready to split open.

You, with heavy arms, pull your hair into a ponytail, desperate to cool down. God, this heat was unbearable. Maybe going so far West had been a bad idea if you were this sensitive to the temperate climate.

Too late now, however.

Billy glances to you, frowning at your flushed complexion, your hooded lids. "You alright, baby?"

You blink tired eyes. "I don't feel good."

"You need me to hit the next rest-stop? I think one is comin' up in about five miles."

You close your eyes. "I don't need to go. I just feel so hot."

He doesn't bother making a joke, doesn't smirk or raise a brow. He reaches over, placing his palm against your forehead. A muscle in his jaw feathers in worry then. "You're burnin' up," he says, placing his hand back against the shifter. "You seemed fine last night."

You shrug lightly. "Maybe it's just a bug I caught." You yawn.

He glances over his shoulder. "Lay down in the backseat and get some rest. We'll be there in a couple hours."

You open your eyes. Crawling back there sounds like the equivalent to climbing Mount Everest to you right now, but staying seated the way you were didn't sound all that appealing, either. You unbuckle, climbing between the seats, curling up with the same pillow from that first night in his car. The smell of him comforts you.

How long you had both come. And not just literally.

He throws over his shoulder, "Let me know if you need me to stop for any reason. Alright, angel?"

You nod, head already feeling light as you drift off. "Alright."

"Wake up, darlin', we're here."

You slowly blink your eyes open, squinting against the light of day.

Billy kneels down, brushing some hair out of your face, his form blocking you from seeing outside of the car. He presses his palm to your sweaty forehead. "You're still runnin' a fever."

Your eyes flutter closed again. "So tired."

"I know, sweetheart. Our room is only a few feet away. I already took all our things inside. Once you get in there, you can go back to sleep. C'mon," he encourages.

You groan, sitting up, head swimming. You press the heels of your palms to your eyes, the world spinning. "Oh God."

He slides his hand up your leg. "What's wrong?"

"Dizzy."

He doesn't like the sound of that. You'd had breakfast, but that was hours ago. It was just because you were hungry. That was all. As soon as he got you inside, he'd run out and get you something to eat. And then you'd be fine.

You'd be just fine.

He slides his arms under you, picking you up, shutting the door with his hip.

You lay your head against his shoulder, shutting your eyes, brows furrowed.

He carries you into the room, gently lying you down on the bed and he begins tugging off your shoes. "You want me to help you undress?"

You look at him, his serious expression, surprised he's not using the questions as a come-on. You nod lightly.

He pulls off your tanktop, folding it, then he begins to tug off your jean shorts, and folds them as well, placing both on the bedside table.

You shiver then. "Why is the AC on so high?" You whimper, trying to get beneath the covers.

He glances to it, then walks over, checking the thermostat. It was at a comfortable enough temperature to him. A little warm, even. He turns back to you and watches as you wrap a comforter around yourself. He leans down, pushing hair away from your forehead, pressing his lips to it―he remembers his mom doing the same when he was little and sick―and when he pulls away the blood drains from his face.

"Baby doll, you're on fire, how do you feel cold?"

You just shiver in response. "C-can you turn the heat on?"

"Sweetheart-"

"T-then, can you hold m-me? You're really warm."

He glances to the door, then back to you. "You haven't eaten since this morning. Aren't you hungry, honey?"

You shake your head. "My stomach hurts."

He chews the inside of his cheek. You're most certainly sick, and a cheeseburger isn't going to do it. He needs to run to a pharmacy and see what they have that he can give you, which lines up with your symptoms.

He kneels down, running his hand along the comforter, gently gripping your hip. "I need to go pick you up some medicine, baby. Will you be okay here on your own?"

You nod, still shivering. "C-can you put another b-blanket on me if there's one?"

He walks over to the closet and finds one, even if it's rather thin. He fans it out, draping it over you. He then grabs his leather jacket, putting it overtop of it.

He turns the AC down even further, knowing he's going to sweat through his fucking clothes when he gets back.

He presses a firm kiss to your forehead. "I'll be back in just a little bit. Alright, angel?"

You nod. "O-okay. I'll wait h-here."

He kisses you one last time, hating to fucking leave you like this for even a second. "I love you," he whispers, standing, grabbing his keys and heading out.

As Billy stands in the cold medicine aisle of a local pharmacy, he silently curses to himself at the plethora of options. He picks up a bottle of Robitussin in one hand, and a bottle of NyQuil in the other, and then he spots another bottle of Motrin just to the right.

"Why are there so many fuckin' cough syrups? Jesus." He mutters to himself.

He decides on the two bottles he's currently holding, and also picks up a thermometer, and an ice pack for your head. He has to get that damn fever down. And if the medicine doesn't do it—if it only gets worse—you won't like what he'll be forced to do next.

As he drives back to the motel, he searches his mind for what could've possibly brought this on. Traveling alone would do it. You'd been in how many motel rooms and diners and tourist attractions now? And then he thinks of you on the hood of his car, your naked body soaked from the pouring rain.

He hangs his head for a moment. "Fuck," he mutters. He looks back up to the road. He should've shoved you back in the car the second that storm hit. Should've at least put you in a hot shower when the two of you got back to your room. This was his fault.

All so he could get his rocks off. And you hadn't even finished.

Selfish.

When Billy comes back into the room, you're fast asleep. He wants to take you resting as a good sign. They always say that, don't they, when someone is sick? To drink plenty of fluids and get lots of rest?

He sets the plastic shopping bag down on the bed, then grabs the ice bucket, heading back out to fill it.

When you wake, it's nearly dark out. The entire day gone.

You quickly realize that you're pressed up against Billy's bare chest, his warmth covering you. God, he felt so nice and warm.

You press your palms to him, closing your eyes again.

You feel him stir.

"You awake, sweetheart?"

"Barely," you mumble.

You feel his body shift, like he's reaching for something beside the bed and then he speaks. "Open. I need to take your temperature."

You do and he slips the cool metal tip of the thermometer under your tongue.

A moment later, he removes it and you hear him curse, then setting it back on the bedside table.

"Is it bad?" You ask, snuggling closer to him, wrapping one of your legs around his, trying to soak up as much of his body heat as you can.

"It's one-oh-one point six. That's not good. You definitely have a fever, which I already knew." He gets out of bed then and you nearly cry from the loss of warmth, wrapping yourself in blankets again.

You hear a plastic bag crinkling and after a moment he returns to you. "Sit up for me, darlin'. I need you to take this."

You pop one eye open, eyeing up the tiny cup held between his fingers. "What is it?"

"Something to hopefully help break that fever. C'mon now."

Slowly, you sit up, clutching blankets to your chest with one hand, taking the cup from him with your other. You sniff, then look up at him.

"It's not a shot, it's Robitussin. Just take it, Jesus. Please."

You throw it back, your nose wrinkling at the taste as you hand it back to him.

He hands you a cup of ice water then and you down it quickly.

He walks across the room, then returns with anther cup full.

You down it as well.

He smirks. "Want me to just bring you the whole damn ice bucket?"

You just lie back down then. "Can you hold me again?"

"You want to shower first? You're burning so damn hot you're about to give me a fever next."

"Not really."

"How about a bat-"

"Please, Billy."

He sighs. "Alright."

When you wake in the middle of the night, you're drenched in sweat, but somehow still freezing. Had he not turned the AC down? You also have to pee something awful. When you get up to go, however, the room spins and you hit the floor.

Billy wakes with a jolt and when he realizes his arms are empty, he panics. "Baby, where are you?"

"Down here," you call from the floor.

He quickly throws back the covers, coming to you. He kneels down. "Act like you've never walked around in the dark before," he says with a smirk. "If you need help finding your way around a bedroom-"

"I fell. The room won't stop spinning."

His smile quickly drops.

"I need to go."

He nods, even if you can't see it, and he picks you up, carrying you into the bathroom.

Once he's set you on the toilet, he steps out for a moment to give you some privacy, leaving the door cracked.

Once you start to go, it takes a few seconds.

He leans his head back against the wall. "Sounds like a damn fire hose in there."

You barely roll your eyes at the sarcastic comment.

"You're drinking more water once you're done, just so you know."

"Great," you reply flatly.

Once you've wiped, you stand, flushing and then it hits you. You double over the toilet, vomiting.

He rushes into the bathroom, quickly pulling back your hair with one hand, rubbing your bare back with his other.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. Just let it out. You'll feel better." He hopes.

Once you have nothing left to expel and you stop dry-heaving, you lower the toilet lid, flushing yet again, lying your sweaty flushed cheek atop the lid and you close your eyes. "I think I'm dying," you say quietly.

"Don't fucking joke about that," he states defensively.

You slowly open your eyes, looking up at him, his expression utterly serious.

He picks you back up. "Back to bed, young lady."

After making you drink not one, not two, but three cups of ice water—even putting an ice pack on your feverish forehead, which had caused you to shake violently—he'd given you another cup of Robitussin, then laid back down with you.

He'd chewed you out when you'd tried taking the icepack off, so you'd left it be after that. You'd stuck your cold hands down his briefs as payback, though.

In the morning, you feel worse.

You'd dry-heaved a few more times during the night—enough times that Billy had eventually placed a trash can on your side of the bed—and had sweated straight through the sheets. Billy had given you a few more doses of the Robitussin, but it seemed like nothing was helping.

"Open."

You do and wait for the thermometer to read your new temperature. It had gradually climbed little by little overnight.

When he removes it, his brows furrow and you could swear his eyes even get a little glassy at the reading.

You stare up at him.

"It's over a hundred and three now," he states, voice full of worry.

He glances to the bathroom, then back to you.

"Can I go back to sleep now?"

He puts his hands on his hips, considering, thinking. And then he shakes his head. "I...I can't afford to take you to the hospital, sweetheart. So we're going to try something else." He steps closer to you. "You're not going to like it."

You thought you had felt cold before, but you had been deeply wrong. Your body shakes violently in the tub as ice-cold water pours down on you from above. You wrap your arms more tightly around your knees, pulling them impossibly closer to your chest.

"P-p-please stop. I'm s-so c-c-cold."

Billy fights against the tears gathering in his eyes. "I know, baby. But I have got to get this fever down. This is the only way."

He turns the water on higher, unable to do anything more to help you as he watches—completely helpless—as freezing water pounds down against your trembling, naked skin.

All he can think is: is he doing the right thing? Is he really helping you? What if he's only making it worse? Making you more sick? Maybe a trip to the ER was what you needed. What if...he let it go for too long and...you didn't wake up again? He shakes his head. No. Anything but that. He cannot fucking think like that.

You were going to be just fine.

You had to be.

If you died, he'd fucking kill you. He can't fathom a life—no, a world—where you no longer existed by his side.

Once Billy has dried you off, you cling to his broad frame, trying to warm yourself.

He swallows down the lump in his throat at the icey feel of your skin.

"C'mon, angel, let's get you back into bed."

You like the sound of that immensely.

Once you're beneath the sheets, Billy gives you a dose of NyQuil next, wondering if mixing cough syrups is a good idea, but clearly the Robitussin was doing jack-shit for you.

He crawls in next to you again, lending you his body heat and you quickly bury yourself in his side, whimpering as you try to get warm again.

He presses his lips to your forehead. Still hot. "I'm going to let you sleep for a couple hours and then I'm taking your temp again."

"Just don't make me go back in there, please." You beg.

And it breaks his heart.

"I'll do whatever is best for you. We have to break your fever, sweetheart."

You moan, pressing your face against his chest.

You're half-asleep when Billy puts the thermometer in your mouth again. When he removes it, you don't see his reaction to the reading.

Not the tears streaming down his cheeks, not the way he throws it across the room, not his burying his face in his hands as he becomes a nervous wreck, worrying that he's slowly killing you.

The only thing he has left in all the world. His girl, his sweetheart, his lover. His fucking heart.

If he loses you... He prays to God—genuinely—that if this is some sort of sick punishment: please, God, please, take him instead.

Billy gently rocks you in his arms, thinking you're asleep as he quietly cries. "Please, baby, don't leave me. I'm waiting for you. Please. We're so close. We're almost there. I can't-" He sniffles. "I told you before that I can't do it without you.

"Without...without you, all of it means nothing. It'll have all been for nothing. It was for you. All this shit." He begins to cry harder then. "Stay with me."

The next morning when you wake, you're not drenched in sweat for once. And, while you feel like you've been hit by a freight train, you don't feel like you're freezing. Nor is your body burning up.

Billy had eventually exhausted himself from crying and worrying and overthinking that he'd passed out at some point in the night, holding you, telling you over and over and over again—more times than he could ever hope to count—that he loved you.

Your arm feels heavy, your movements a bit uncertain, but you reach up to his face, cupping his cheek as you rest your head on his chest. "Billy?"

His eyes immediately open and he shifts so that he's hovering over you. "You're awake," he says, almost like he's surprised by the fact.

Before you can reply, he presses his lips to your forehead. And then he stares down at you with wide eyes. "I think your fever finally broke."

He gets out of bed, heading across the room, hands on his hips as he surveys the floor. "Where the fuck did I put it? Jesus, why did I have to do that? Ha!"

He bends over, grabbing the thermometer, then coming back over and wiping it off before popping it in your mouth.

And when he removes it, he actually cries tears of joy. He crushes his lips to yours, not caring one bit if he gets sick himself. "It's over, angel. Your fever broke. You're okay. Everything is okay now."

After quickly showering—even if he'd been terrified to leave you alone for a moment, but you'd had him sweating for two nights now, and not in a good way—Billy returns to the bedroom to you napping.

Whatever you'd caught had taken it out of you.

He sits down on the side of the bed, turning to you. "You awake, honey?"

You groan lightly. "Wanna sleep."

"I know, but you haven't eaten in going on three days now. We need to get something into your system; build your strength back up."

"Later," you reply, burying your face in a pillow.

He sighs. "Once you've eaten something, then you can go back to sleep. Maybe once I've given you a bath, too."

You don't reply.

He walks over to the entertainment center, picking up menus for local takeout from atop the box TV. "What sounds good to you?" He asks, flipping through the laminated papers.

"Sleep."

He smirks. "That's not on the menu."

He comes back over to the bed, sitting. "You want to pick something, or do you want me to order for you?"

"Don't care."

He briefly considers threatening you with habanero hot wings if you don't pick something on your own, but bites his tongue. "You want something easy on your stomach, like soup?"

"I'm not really hungry," you say, finally looking up at him, dark circles under your glassy eyes.

He leans down, gently tucking some hair behind your ear. "I know, honey, but you'll realize that you are when you finally eat something. Please."

You're quiet for a moment, lying your palm overtop the back of his hand. Then, "Soup is fine."

Once dinner has been delivered—Billy ordering some ribs for himself from a place which serves American comfort food—he opens a large container of chicken noodle soup and hands it to you, along with a spoon. And when you go to serve some to yourself, you nearly spill it.

You look up to him sheepishly. "Woops."

He smirks, shaking his head. "Need me to spoon-feed you?" He asks with a raised brow.

The idea seems humiliating, but your hands were so shaky and your arms felt so weak that you worried about ruining the bed, if not burning yourself.

You don't get a chance to answer before he comes back over to your bedside. “Scoot forward a little.”

You do and he slides in behind you, pulling you back to him, your head resting in the crook beteween his chest and armpit. He puts his left arm around your waist, holding the soup, while his right holds the spoon, feeding you.

“Here comes the plane,” he says in a sing-song voice, holding it in front of your face.

You roll your eyes, but open, swallowing. It’s a tad bit salty, but good.

After a few spoonfuls, you realize he was right: you’d been starving and hadn’t even noticed.

Once the bowl is halfway empty, you speak. “Thank you. For everything. No one has ever taken care of me like this. If you weren’t here, I…”

You trail off, laying your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him. 

He kisses your forehead for a moment. “Wouldn’t have gotten sick in the first place if it weren’t for me.”

Your brows furrow. “How so?”

He holds the spoon in front of your lips. “Remember what we did on the hood of my Camaro? During a downpour?”

You flush, then take another sip.

Once you’ve finished your soup, you’re still quite hungry. “Is there more?”

Billy looks down at you for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, there’s more.” He gets up, padding across the room, retrieving a styrofoam container and handing it to you when he comes back over.

When you open it, your mouth begins to water. You look up at him before you take a single bite, however. “Is…was this for you?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not hungry right now. I got it for you. Figured just soup wouldn’t be enough.”

You stare at him for a moment, feeling like he’s lying. “I’ve never eaten ribs in front of you before.” Meaning he’d have no way of knowing they were a dish you enjoyed.

He shrugs, getting back on the bed. “You’ve had barbecue with me before. Remember the sandwich of mine that I let you try at that one joint before we got into that big fight… The one where you left?”

One of the worst nights of his life was spent in his car searching desperately for you all over a small Oklahoma town. He’d never forget the terror of thinking he’d lost you for good. Never forget the hole he’d felt in his chest at the thought of never seeing you again. At the thought of never getting to one day tell you how he felt. Feels.

You hum your response. “I remember now.” You don’t want to dwell on it. You know he’s ready to beat himself black and blue over it if that will please you. 

You pick up a slab of ribs, tearing the meat apart, then taking a bite. You look up to Billy, sauce all over your face. “Want some?”

He smirks. “Think you’re going to need a bath after this.” He takes it from you, finishing the piece off.

Once you and Billy have filled yourselves, he leaves you in bed watching TV as he goes to run you a bath.

He takes a moment in the bathroom to break down a little. To cry. From relief.

He’d been so afraid… If your fever had climbed any higher, he was taking you to the ER. He wouldn’t have given a shit about money at that point. But once they had your names in their system… What if someone realized? Found out? What if it triggered something, and the cops came to drag the two of you back? He’d make up whatever story he had to to protect you then. 

He’d always been an asshole to you at school, but had clearly shown a bit of carnal interest. So he’d take the brunt of it. Would tell them some ridiculous kidnapping tale. Even if he knew you wouldn’t go along with it for a second. Not now. Not after falling in love with him.

He still couldn’t believe that you did: love him. He wasn’t worthy of it, but he was selfish enough to keep you to himself if that’s where you wanted to be. He couldn’t handle it again: you trying to leave. It’d nearly broke him the last time.

Nearly losing you like this, though… When the two of you had only just begun… He shakes his head. He’d done the right thing, and you were better now. Were going to continue getting better—recovering. 

What had you once told him? You weren’t his responsibility? He thinks since that first night he’d made you as much. You were his purpose now. His priority. His to take care of. Provide for. And unlike his step-sister, which he’d had shoved onto his plate, he wanted to be that for you. That’s what a man did when he loved a woman. He protected her. Made sure she was well looked after. She came first. Period.

He shuts the water off, the tub nearly filled to the brim, steam wafting into the air, and he steps back into the bedroom. “Bath’s ready.”

Billy had insisted on bathing you himself, and after much bugging, you’d caved. He thankfully hadn’t gotten soap in your eyes this time. He’d taken a bit of extra time scrubbing down your breasts and between your legs, though, his lip twitching while doing so, but you’d said nothing of it.

It honestly just felt good to be catered to. Maybe even babied a little. All of that had stopped for you the moment your mom went out the door.

Then you think back to your dad. To the other students at school. It was so…insane, really, to think about. The two of you had really run away together in the middle of the night to go cross-country.

A small smirk works its way onto your lips. If someone had told you even just a month ago where you would be right now: here, with him, naked, in love, going to California in his car…you would’ve laughed in their face.

Billy is currently sitting on the floor, facing you, back leaned against the wall behind him, arm resting on the edge of the tub. His lip twitches when he sees you smiling to yourself.

“What’re you smiling about?”

You glance up to him, covering yourself with what little bubbles are left in the water. “Nothing.”

He leans forward, slipping his hand under the water’s surface. “Want me to climb in there with you?”

You lean back. “I don’t think this tub is big enough for two.”

 He slips his hand between your thighs, his arm submerged up to the pit. “Oh, I’ll fit. Or, at least something will.”

You close your eyes, placing a wet cloth over them. “I don’t have the strength for that right now.”

He shrugs. “I have no problem doing all the work.”

You fight a losing battle against a smile breaking out across your face. “Can you stop?”

You’re both quiet for a moment, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your thigh, water gently lapping against the tub’s edge. 

You finally tell him what was on your mind. “I was just thinking—wondering, rather—what people back in Hawkins must have thought about the two of us disappearing at the same time. The theories they came up with.”

Billy grips your leg then, possessively. “I’m sure your pretty boy Harrington is worried sick.”

You remove the cloth, gently splashing him with a few drops of water. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

He leans back, crossing his arms. “Not if I can help it. Incase you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m the jealous type.”

Your brows furrow. “Really? Who would’ve ever guessed?” You say, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Was half-tempted to get my knuckles bloody for you back then, too. Just from him asking you out alone. And right in front of me, at that.” A beat of silence, then, “I drove by there that night, y’know?”

“Hm?”

“That ice-cream place. Twisted something-or-other. Saw you and Steve acting all buddy-buddy. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so fuckin’ pissed. And then I had to go pick up Angie for our date after and…” He trails off. Was he really about to tell you about how you had been the cause of his dick not working properly that night?

“And what? You already tried rubbing in my face what the two of you did.”

He glances up to you. “Yeah, well, it almost didn’t happen.”

You’re taken aback by that. “Oh?”

“Once we were in the backseat…” He leans back, sighing, head lightly bouncing off the wall behind him. “I could barely get it up, alright? All I could fucking think about was you doing the same damn thing with him in the backseat of his piece of shit BMW. And then it just got worse. She wouldn’t shut the fuck up, I’m trying to get my shit to work, and then I thought about Monday. What if you came in holding his hand all starry-eyed and in love with him? What if… What if that was it? You were his, and I’d lost, and I was right back to square fucking one again. So, I finally flipped her on her stomach, pretended it was you, and laid some pipe. End of story.”

You sit there dumbfounded. You’d meant that much to him even back then? Enough that he—Billy Hargrove—had struggled to get an erection? All because she hadn’t been you? While you did feel somewhat bad for Angie, you also wonder what could’ve possibly been going through her head to think giving it up to him on the first date was a good idea.

“You could’ve had me, Billy. Sooner, that is. If you’d treated me differently. Been, I don’t know, nicer? More of a gentleman?”

He smirks, laying his arm back against the edge of the tub. “Because I’m such a pro at that.” He’s silent for a moment, then, since he can’t not dwell on something, “Why weren’t you into him, anyway?”

You sigh. You were going to be hearing about this at every opportunity for the forseeable future, you could tell as much now. “I just didn’t find him physically attractive, for whatever reason. Does it matter?”

He smirks. “Not your type, huh? Guess I’m the real winner here after all. So, what was it about me, then? My car? My rebel attitude? My devilishly good looks,” he says, leaning in for a kiss.

You lean toward him as well, resting one of your hands over his heart. “No, Billy. It had far less to do with all that superficiality and more to do with you.” You curl your fingers inward

He stops moving, brows furrowing.

You continue. “You don’t think you’re good enough. Don’t think you’re capable of kindness. But, look at everything you’ve done for me since that first night on the side of the road. Taking care of me, paying my way here, looking after me. Just recently nursing me back to health. I…I don’t want to think about where I’d be if you hadn’t been on that same stretch of road at the same time that I was.” You look down, twining your fingers between his. “I think you were meant to find me... That we were meant to find each other.”

He cups your cheek in his hand then, eyes now a bit red. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t remind you about another night where he’d found you on another stretch of road trying to then get away from him. Or yet another late-night bit of asphalt where he’d told you that you were his, after he’d spent an entire day committing actions which said otherwise. 

Your eyes meet his. “Everyone has their own love language. I think yours is acts of service. You’re a care-taker and you don’t even know it. You’re more selfless than you realize.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not. I wouldn’t have done all of this for anyone else.” He leans in toward you even further. “Anyone.” He cups the back of your head of wet hair and presses his lips to yours.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader) #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you

[quibbs126]

Okay, but I now I kind of want to make a desert themed Legendary

For some reason the name that comes to mind is Desert Fairy Cookie, but I don’t know why. It might be too similar to Sea Fairy. Unless they’re related in some way? From what I understand, the Sahara Desert was once underwater, so maybe something similar?

Nah, I’d rather focus on the desert angle than have it tie to the sea

It’d probably be better to base them off a desert plant, like a cactus or prickly pear

Or just the sand itself, and the cactus thing can be Cookies associated with them

#I’m not sure if they’d be a helpful Cookie that would help Cookies lost in the sands #or they’d be more indifferent seeing it as a way of life #also maybe they have like two modes: one fire and one ice #since the desert is hot in the day but cold at night #I’m just spitting out ideas as they come I just think it’d be neat #cookie run #cookie run oc #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #legendary cookies #desert #random stuff

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

pairing - bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3

word count - 1.7k

author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.

Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.

"Are you... are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.

You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.

"I want to do Christmas this year."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

He hates the cold.

No, he's traumatised by the cold.

Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.

Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.

He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.

You do.

You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.

You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.

He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.

You understood him better, since that day.

You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.

So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."

He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.

"I want it to be just us. No one else."

"Done."

"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."

You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.

"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."

He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.

"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."

"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"

"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."

Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.

"And no gifts for me."

"But Buck-"

"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."

You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.

"This isn't fair, suddenly."

"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"

He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."

Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.

He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."

You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.

"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."

You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.

It's perfect in every way.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Merry Christmas, angel."

"Merry Christmas, Buck."

His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.

"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"

He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.

"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."

"That sounds perfect."

In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.

"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."

"You've never told me that."

"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."

"For making you miss out for so many years?"

"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."

Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.

"What changed?"

"Hmm?"

"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."

"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."

You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.

And here you are.

Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.

It doesn't get better than this.

"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.

"Bucky-"

"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."

You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.

He's on one knee.

There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.

It's perfect.

"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."

You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.

"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."

There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.

"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."

You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.

"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."

His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.

Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.

"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."

The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.

@lizzystuffsthings <3

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel fluff #marvel fic #marvel x reader #marvel x reader fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #marvel fanfic #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #marvel smut #marvel x reader smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic

[jennelikejennay]

Nobody asked for this but it's time for an essay on Spock's body temperature.

Some people say Spock would have a hot body temperature because he is from a hot planet.

Others say he would have a cold body temperature because he is from a hot planet.

It seemed to me that we could test this thesis! Do animals from hot climates have a hotter or colder body temperature than animals from cold climates?

Humans have a roughly average temperature for mammals, 98.6 F (37 C).

Penguins have a core temperature of 100-102 F. Polar bears have a temperature of 98-99 just like we do. They can maintain this temp even in 40 below zero temps!

What about hot weather animals? The camel can vary from 93-104 F—a huge range, but on average around the same as ours. The elephant also has a large range, 95-99 F.

The coldest-blooded mammal is the echidna, at 89 F. The hottest is the hummingbird, at 107. Neither of these is from an extreme environment. It's more about the metabolism: the echidna's is slow and the hummingbird's is fast.

And yet, you see the range is not very great among mammals. This is because many enzymes work efficiently at these temperatures. Above about 104 F, some start breaking down. By 131 F, there's not much enzyme activity that can happen.

Okay, so: Vulcans. We know that they will not have an especially warm or cool body temperature because of the climate. Since they're warm blooded (an assumption, I admit! But I will defend it later) they will have an ideal core temperature their body will function best at and have features to maintain that despite the heat.

Note: Vulcans can also survive more extreme cold than humans; that's why Spock has to help Bones in a blizzard in All Our Yesterdays. This makes sense to me, because desert climates like Vulcan are prone to extremes. It might get very cold there at night with little moisture to trap the heat. This is one reason I think Vulcans are warm-blooded—a cold-blooded creature would have been useless in a blizzard. The other reason is that cold blooded creatures have a slower metabolism in general, and Spock could not possibly be described as slow moving or slow thinking.

Okay, so what is the Vulcan metabolism? Is it faster or slower than humans? My guess is faster, because of their fast heart rate, strength, and quick thinking. That said, we don't have solid proof either way. It might make sense for them to have a slower metabolism so that their body produces less heat and is less likely to get into the enzyme denaturing zone on a hot Vulcan day.

Which brings us to another question: how do they beat the heat? They seem perfectly comfortable in their climate, they're not using behavioral practices to stay cool as humans from hot climates do. They must have ways to efficiently radiate heat from their core. Those ears, for instance. Remember elephants? Their huge, flappy ears are a major cooling mechanism for them. They are able to push more blood through the small capillaries of their ears in hot weather and restrict it when the temperature drops at night. This is called vasodilation—controlling blood flow to either shed or retain heat. We do it too, though not as much. When you're hot, your ears will be hotter. Out in the cold, your fingers and toes will get much colder than your core.

Like camels, elephants can maintain a larger range of body temperatures than humans can. That's another coping technique they have. Other ways to shed heat include sweat and panting.

I never really imagined Vulcans as very sweaty. In a desert climate, methods of cooling that involve water loss wouldn't be ideal.

Here's my guess: they are extremely efficient at regulating core temperature by controlling blood flow. In hot temperatures, their skin and especially their ears would be hot, but their insides would be maybe 100 degrees. When it cools down, their skin would be very cool to the touch, but they would keep a core temperature in the 90s. They might also be able to speed up and slow down their metabolism somewhat to control their temperature.

So. On the Enterprise, which is kept at a comfortable temperature for humans...I think Spock would be a little chilly to cuddle. If you want a warm cuddle with Spock, go to his quarters, where he keeps it nice and toasty.

This has been my xenobiology deep dive for today.

#star trek #spock #spirk #vulcans #biology #vulcan biology

[n-s4kayaky]

𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 (𝙳𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚢! 𝚂𝚒𝚛 𝙲𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, power dynamics, religious themes, praise, creampie, canon typical violence, possessive Crocodile, belly bulge

Notes: Soooo, yeah, it has come to my mind and how I don't have to write something perverted and horny. So enjoy ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

Water, the beautiful and elusive water which always flows at will, every living being is aware that water in an ecosystem is vital, it gives life to vegetation, which in turn gives fruit and to living beings, specifically humans. Without the precious water you would be nothing, that is why your city is nothing compared to those around you. You lived in a small town, in the middle of an arid and hot desert which dried your mouth and made your eyes hurt, the climate was deathly hot by day and extremely cold by night; But you had already become accustomed to such temperatures, what you were not used to was the lack of water in your village. Although the other neighboring villages had small lagoons and wells, which provided them with rich water, you were the exception. No matter how hard you dug, the water never emerged from the ground, and even if you were in the middle of the desert it still rained from time to time, but not in you. It had been decades since your town had always been short of water, and everything had a crazy explanation for your liking, the culprit of not emerging water was a deity

The story is immersed in years ago, where your people were nothing more than a tribe, they prayed to various deities giving everyone equal treatment, offering them and building temples and statues in devotion to them, everything was perfect, until the image of a new deity appeared; the deity of the sand, the people gave all devotion and worship to this new deity; But from one day to the next it fell into a rage against the people, destroying the other monuments of the deities and carrying away every drop of water that was in your vicinity, leaving them with nothing. Due to the lack of water and the destruction of the monuments, the citizens became enraged, quickly going to complain to the deity what had created their anger towards them and what was the reason why he had frightened the other gods and carried away the water. Due to the response of the villagers, the anger of the deity increased and it is said that one day he returned the water to the village, flooding it and infesting the waters with large and monstrous crocodiles which ended many lives, and as soon as the water appeared it vanished. From that day on, the name of the sand deity was changed to "Crocodile". The people had no choice but to continue worshipping him for fear that he would wipe them all out, and so it continues to this day

From a very young age you had been told the story by father and mother, always asking and instilling in you the worship of the deity that they feared so much and you followed the beliefs; You didn't do it in worship of God and faith in Him, you did it to keep your people alive. As you grew up, a group of faithful believers armed themselves in your people, such that they fell into the extremism of faith before the wonderful god. They made unpleasant and selfish changes towards the people, always asking at the end of each month for half of the little profit you could afford as an offering to the blessed god, saying that he would be more benevolent towards the people. Their injunctions only made the people even weaker for lack of profit, and as if that were not enough for them they began to force them to give their jewels and gold to the deity, punishing those who could not. The town was indeed in a mess, the people were dying and could hardly contradict themselves to the believing extremists for fear that they or the deity himself would punish them and grant them death.

As was normal, many people fell ill due to the lack of food to be able to afford medicine, and unfortunately many of those sick people were your parents, at that time you were nothing more than a simple child, you left the little study that you had been allowed to start working in the fields with the desperation of being able to afford a simple medicine; But it was too late for your dear parents, and you fell on your deathbed, and left you alone in that dreadful town. During adolescence you barely managed, working for those a little richer in your village, making a living on them and directing your earnings to the extremes. Everything was going moderately well, until today

You were already coming of age and had survived thanks to one of the moderately wealthiest people in the village, working for him while the little income he gave you was destined for offerings. It was the day of the gathering of jewels and goods from the people for the deity, believers went from house to house knocking on doors and taking the jewels while punishing those who gave nothing. There was a knock on the door of your home and you opened it with the small bag of gold in hand, you observed the two men dressed in sand-colored robes waiting in front of your door and one of them stretched out his hand, you quickly handed over the small bag. You watched expectantly as the man opened the bag to see the inside of it, he raised his gaze to his companion and denied him making a shiver run through your body- "It's not enough"- said the second man dryly while looking at you seriously, causing panic to flood your body -"W-what?! That's impossible, it's the amount every month!" - You screamed in panic as you watched the hooded men- "The fee has gone up, we have seen it necessary that our god needs more to have his forgiveness"- Cold sweat ran down your temples as you looked at the two men in astonishment - "More?! Isn't all that we give him enough?" - "Are you questioning the orders and commands that our god gives us?!" - You quickly shook your head as you took a few faint steps backwards, bumping into the half-open door of your home as both men approached you - "No! It's not that, I'd never question it, it's just that it's the only thing I have." - You hurriedly said while you felt how your blood was rushing through your veins, the men looked at each other and then directed their gaze towards you - "Well, in such a case you are lucky that we are making a group of women as an offering to our dear god"- They spoke adoringly at their appointment while touching their cheeks and nose, again a shiver ran through your body, a group of women as an offering?! Before you could reply to ask for a second chance, one of the men grabbed you by the arms tightly, pulling them and pulling a linen rope from his tunic, entangling it around your limbs and pulling them hard, forcing you to walk as if you were a donkey

With an awkward step you followed the men in denial, watching them lead you to the building they had created as a place to pray to the deity. They opened the great gates and forced you in as they walked through the gloomy building, you watched in terror as the large number of men in robes knelt in long lines as they prayed to a statue of a bust with a face barely recognizable due to the damage to the stone. The two men who were carrying you led you to a room, in which there were five other women, untangled the ropes that were in your arms and threw you at the feet of the others, you let out a groan as you watched as they closed the doors. You rose from the ground as you watched the group of women, a few of them sobbing while others simply knelt and prayed. They kept you inside that room for what were hours until they opened the door. Out of it emerged a group of men in tunics, each wearing different things, and they addressed each one of you. They took your garments and snatched them from you, leaving you naked until they gave you a thin white robe, covering your body quickly. A man took care of one of you, dressing you, and then taking small and fine gold necklaces, putting these around your necks, accompanied by a small gold thread that was wrapped around your neck, a white silk veil was placed over your faces, covering half of them, leaving your lips and nose visible, Letting the rest of the material rest on your head, covering your eyes and so on, it covered your view but you could still see vaguely. Gold chains were meticulously placed on your head to hold the veil, and you stripped off your shoes. Once what seemed to be your body already prepared as an offering, a last man entered the room with a bowl full of sand between both hands while reciting a prayer, he approached each of you, taking some of the sand that was in the bowl and rubbing it in a horizontal line from one cheek. Going through the bridge of the nose to the next cheek

The men gathered around you, believing that you would gather among yourselves like a flock of sheep being gathered by the wolves, they began to walk outside the building, forcing them to follow. They walked up the slope which led to the great andesite temple at the top of the village. As you walked, the men prayed and prayed for the deity until they came to the entrance of the great temple. You stared at the dark entrance as you felt a chill run through your body from head to toe. One of the men stood in front of you as he knelt: "Dear sisters, today more than ever you must feel grateful to your worship for the great god of the sand, your body and soul will be more than a gift to our powerful deity, giving us as a reward his forgiveness and the precious water that he wisely snatched from us. Thank you sir, thank you for taking them and giving others a better future!" - The other men thanked as they quickly knelt to the ground, the man who had recited the discourse in front of you stepped aside as he left the entrance to the temple clear, one by one he entered the grand entrance, having no choice but to enter the temple. You walked down the long, cold corridor of the temple until you came to a large chamber. The large room was illuminated by large chandeliers made of gold, the walls were decorated with drawings of what appeared to be crocodiles and other symbols, the floor was littered with gold and precious jewels as well as baskets of different sizes full of fruits and food which were in a deplorable state. You watched the room in astonishment while the other women stood in a horizontal row around the jewels. You were standing and silence filled the place, frightened enough not to say a word. Minutes passed and everything remained the same, without a doubt all this was a waste of time for you, they would keep you locked up here for days thinking that the god you worshipped so much would forgive you and when they see that the water does not come back they will kill you, that is if malnutrition and dehydration have not done it before

You sighed tiredly and closed your eyes, feeling a strong gust of air flood the room, you opened your eyes surprised by the sudden breeze while you checked the other women, who like you seemed strange. A stronger gust of air accompanied by sand flooded the place, turning off the lights of the temple and leaving you in complete darkness, you gasped and looked at the others again with a bad feeling weighing on your lower back. The blast of sand quickly passed around you, engulfing one of the women. In the blink of an eye, that girl lay on the ground with dry skin and looking as if she were a dry corpse, the others began to scream and cry, going quickly to the exit to run in terror; But the blast was quicker, closing the great door as it began to surround each woman. You watched horrified and motionless in your place as women turned before your eyes into mummified and dried corpses, your breathing began to fail as you watched as that gust of sand approached you slowly, you wanted to react, you wanted to run away, scream, cry; But your body just didn't react, it just left your feet buried in the sand as you watched the pile of sand approach you. You closed your eyes, waiting simply for a painful death; But it never came, just a delicate touch on one of your cheeks. You opened your eyes little by little at such a sensation, seeing the pile of sand settle in front of you as it touched your cheek, you blinked incredulously as the sand rose until it touched the veil that covered your eyes and head, removing it little by little until it threw it to the ground and revealed your face. You blinked several times as the candlelight magically lit up again, letting the gold sparkle again and your vision clearer.

The sand that was on your head came down to your cheek again, you looked at the cluster and opened your eyes to see how it began to materialize in a large hand, its fingers were covered with large gold rings and covered with jewels. Then the hand followed an arm and then the great mass of sand that swirled in front of you became a large muscular and tall body dressed in a sand-colored robe embroidered with gold threads and full of small details in gold and jewels, you fixed your gaze on the free hand, Seeing the lack of this and replacing it was a large hook of pure gold. You had to lift your head to visualize the face of the great man lying in front of you. Beautiful eyes golden like precious metal were staring at your face, the slit-like pupils did not leave your skin, a scar decorated his bronzed face from cheek to cheek, proasting by her nose while a delicate veil of the same color as her robe and embroidered in gold covered her charcoal black hair -"It's you…"- A whisper emerged from her rich lips while her large hand full of rings caressed your cheek with a delicate and trembling touch -"After so long… You're back." - He said incredulously while out of nowhere he was kneeling in front of you, taking you in his strong arms and hugging you with nostalgic affection - "My dear desert flower, I miss you so much.." - You gasped as you stood motionless before his tight embrace, feeling his warm and large body envelop yours smaller - "S-sir… I… I think you're mistaking me for someone else." - You spoke in astonishment and trembling of being able to anger the man you could only recognize as the deity of the sand. His head moved away from the hollow of your neck, lifting his head and piercing those chilling slit-like pupils into your face, examining it for a few seconds, his large hand again moved closer to your face as he touched your skin delicately, being careful not to break your thin skin -"Am I confused? Don't talk nonsense at this point… It's been so long and you tell me such things?.." - He spoke in a thick, harsh tone of voice as he looked down at you from his imposing height - "No! Excuse me, it's just… I am simply an offering to you, I come in the apologetic name of my people so that you, please, give them back the water." - The big man's eyebrow arched as he took a few small steps away from you. His golden eyes swept over your body covered by the robe that had been given to you and shortly after settled on your face, looking at you with what seemed to be slight confusion, a small and serious laugh rumbled from his chest as he shook his head incredulously making it seem as if the ground was shaking - "My dear, you an offering? Don't talk so much nonsense. It's clear you've forgotten our old life, I don't blame you; I'll make you remember everything," he said with the sweet tone dripping from his lips as he took your arm with his big hand and forced your body to stick to his. No, listen, please we need you to give us back the water, there are extremist creinets who are destroying everything and…" - Before you could finish your protests, large lips pressed firmly against yours while the large golden hook gripped its large curve at your hip. His kiss was scorching, full of need and a certain nostalgia as his big tongue went into your mouth, desecrating it and claiming it with possessiveness. His big tongue swirled against yours, starting a dance filled with love and lust. Your senses were quickly overwhelmed by the kiss of the bigger man, having no choice but to reciprocate it awkwardly, opening your mouth while you felt a small trickle of mixed saliva drip down your lips.

His hand swept across your body, running his long fingers over your shoulders, past your collarbones until he reached the valley between your breasts, a shiver ran through your body as your cheeks began to turn red. He broke away from the kiss, watching with delight as a thin thread of saliva connected both lips, quickly his mouth went to your neck, gently kissing it and sticking out his wide tongue, licking a long ditch of your sensitive skin making you gasp. At the pathetic noise that escaped your lips Crocodile couldn't help but growl, licking again that sensitive spot of skin that opened his mouth, revealing his gleaming teeth and four long fangs which quickly pierced the delicate skin of your neck. You let out a groan of pain as your hands quickly reach for his broad shoulders, grabbing and clawing at them as your head moved to the side at the intrusion.Small threads of blood began to run from the bite the man gave you; But they didn't get very far, as his tongue quickly collected the crimson liquid until it left your neck completely full of saliva and with a large teeth mark that was changing from red to purple. Crocodile's head rested in the hollow of your neck, burying his nose in it as he inhaled your sweet scent now mixed with the strong metallic smell of blood, his large hand caressing the section of your breasts, squeezing them through the thin white fabric with his large hand which easily took your entire breast. You gasped with heavy breathing as your eyesight vaguely failed at the sudden small loss of blood—"My sweet wife, I missed your sweet taste so much." - I whisper with that deep voice on your neck, causing a flash of heat to run straight into your core. The huge hook that grabbed your hip rose gently, and in one swift movement you felt the cold air of the room embrace your body, Crocodile had torn off the simple robe with that big hook, leaving you totally naked before the sharp eyes of the great man who hovered in front of you -"Let me see that beautiful body you have, I've missed him so much." -Your nipples quickly erected at the welcome of the room air, the deity's long fingers quickly curled into your sweet erect buds, twisting these as his lips left small hickeys along your neck, slowly going down to your collarbone, toasting it with kisses and small licks, making your body tremble at attention

"Look at you… My little flower is anxious for her god, isn't she, darling? Open those beautiful legs for me so I can see how needy you are darling." - His booming voice made your heart pump hard and blood rush through your body. The hand that was in charge of playing with your sensitive and now lightly red nipples was slowly descending your body, running its large, calloused fingers across your soft belly, caressing it along the way until its large palm hollowed out your already wet pussy. You gasped at the touch as your hand forced your thighs open for it, exposing your wet little pussy and the mount of both thighs already moistened between tiny threads of your fluids. Crocodile's eyes slowly lowered until they landed on your wet pussy already needed by the little attention he had given to your body, he gasped pleased to see your soft folds already wet because of him and couldn't stop his cock from throbbing at the sight. Everything about you was driving him crazy in those moments, he had been longing for your touch, to drink from the sight of your beautiful little needy because of him, he wanted to sink his teeth back into your flesh, to lick your sweet blood that would always surpass any hydromiel they gave him, he wanted to eat you completely, to sink into you in every possible way, he wanted to mark you, that you would never leave his side again, to keep you to himself, to become his sweet little wife, to fill you completely with his cock and his divine cum; I loved you whole. His thick fingers encircled your sensitive clitoris, causing your legs to shake and a moan to escape your throat "Look at you dear, you are soaked, and just for having touched and marked you… I don't blame you my love, I'll take care of you," he whispered on your neck as he gave a long lick to the extension of it, savoring the sweet taste of your skin. His fingers began to circle your clit, fiddling with it as I watched your pussy get wetter and wetter by the minute. You groaned helplessly at him, tremblingly grasping his arm as you tried to look at the man – "N-no… I… Y-you're wro..." - A swift movement of his experimental fingers silenced you with a moan as he lifted his face from the majar of your neck, resting his forehead against yours as he made both noses collide, his large golden eyes fixed on yours as his lizard pupils pierced through your body and soul -"Shhhh, my love don't talk… Let your god take care of this, yes?" - He said in a melodious tone as one of his fingers began to push against your entrance. You moaned choked in lust, trying to speak as Crocodile's big finger pumped your exquisite entrance, you moaned in moaning mode as the man's tongue came out of his mouth, tenderly licking your lips with a slight playful smile – "Just like that honey, do you hear it? Do you hear your wet pussy begging for me?" One of his free fingers began to play with your clitoris again, making you shudder and let out a louder moan, you stared lost in sensations at the man, trying to pronounce some coherent word

A second finger was inserted inside you, making you stand on tiptoe at the sensation of how you were stretched, Crocodile snorted while his forehead remained close to yours, aware of your adorable reactions as I felt his cock tremble against his robe and form a small spot of moisture, he wanted so much to bury himself in your extrexho hole; But I wanted to prepare you enough for him. The speed of his hand increased, making the hand that was gripping his forearm tighter, your legs failed; But the grip of the hook on your waist prevented you from collapsing against it. Her two fingers were already quite overwhelming inside you, they were so big that you felt full to the brim, they kept moving up and down your rubbery walls, opening them up and down while making you shudder at the constant touch on that sensitive point. Crocodile's lips began to kiss tenderly all over your face, giving you encouraging words as his fingers scissored inside you—"My precious girl, you are doing so well. You can't wait for me to fill you with my cock, aren't you?" - He spoke in a honeyed tone while a third finger was slowly inserted along with the others. You arched your back as a high-pitched moan escaped your lungs, Crocodile's lips closed against yours, giving you a loving, lustful kiss as his three fingers quickly boomed your moist inside. Everything was too much at that moment, Crocodile's lips against yours, his tongue tangling against yours, the heat his body gave off against yours and how his big fingers opened your insides to him.

A second finger was inserted inside you, making you stand on tiptoe at the sensation of how you were stretched, Crocodile snorted while his forehead remained close to yours, aware of your adorable reactions as I felt his cock tremble against his robe and form a small spot of moisture, he wanted so much to bury himself in your extrexho hole; But I wanted to prepare you enough for him. The speed of his hand increased, making the hand that was gripping his forearm tighter, your legs failed; But the grip of the hook on your waist prevented you from collapsing against it. Her two fingers were already quite overwhelming inside you, they were so big that you felt full to the brim, they kept moving up and down your rubbery walls, opening them up and down while making you shudder at the constant touch on that sensitive point. Crocodile's lips began to kiss tenderly all over your face, giving you encouraging words as his fingers scissored inside you—"My precious girl, you are doing so well. You can't wait for me to fill you with my cock, aren't you?" - He spoke in a honeyed tone while a third finger was slowly inserted along with the others. You arched your back as a high-pitched moan escaped your lungs, Crocodile's lips closed against yours, giving you a loving, lustful kiss as his three fingers quickly boomed your moist inside. Everything was too much at that moment, Crocodile's lips against yours, his tongue tangling against yours, the heat his body gave off against yours and how his big fingers opened your insides to him.

Crocodile's lips parted from yours, directing them to your forehead and giving her an affectionate kiss - "That's my girl, cumming for me.." - He spoke with delight as he slowly withdrew his fingers from you, feeling strangely empty as you squeezed into nothingness. Crocodile's wet fingers went up to his face, opening them slightly, being able to blur the threads of your arousal by creating small rows – "Look at this darling. Look how wet you are now, without a doubt you will be able to take me without any problem my love" - she said lovingly while she brought her fingers to her lips, opening them and starting to lick your sweet nectar as if it were the most luxurious drink. A growl escaped his lips at your taste and he slowly pulled his fingers out of his mouth, watching you with a gaze laden with lust and pleasure. Her body gently separated from yours, starting to remove her luxurious robe to reveal her naked body, your eyes wandered over her ample pecs to her chiseled belly until you opened your eyes at the sight of the monstrous erection standing proudly against her belly, dripping from a semi-transparent liquid. A chill ran down your spine at the sight of the man's big cock, was that going to fit inside you? You weren't entirely sure. Crocodile seeing your hesitation and slight fear in his eyes took you in his arms, pressing your back against the nearest column while his glans pricked your entrance and moistened it with his pre-cum -"My love, don't be scared, you're ready, you're going to take me very well"- I whisper with love in your ear while you felt how little by little I was entering your moist interior. You let out a moan of a mixture of pleasure and pain at the great intrusion into your body, you could only feel his big cock slowly splitting you in two. Crocodile grunted at the embrace of your tight walls, slowly sheathing into you until he hit rock bottom, making them both gasp. The man closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, controlling himself so as not to hit you hard against that column before your exquisite interior, his hand snaked to your belly caressing it and smiling proudly when he felt the lump that was peeking out, starting to caress it while his lips kissed your neck -"You get along with me so well my love. Do you feel me? You feel my big cock sticking out of you, huh honey?"Again everything was overwhelming, the sound of both skins touching, Crocodile's grunts against your neck, his big cock pounding inside you. The hand on your belly began to quickly brush against your clitoris, causing you to lose your composure as your small hands gripped the man's shoulders tightly. An experimental swipe of his cock along with his fingers moving against your clit made your body give way, cumming around Crocodile's cock, making you arch your back and throw your head back

Your body fell limp against hers as you listened to Crocodile's grunts and as if cock trembled inside you – "Honey you feel so good around me… Now let me finish, love." With that said, his hips began to move rapidly against yours, leaving you halfway out and re-entering all at once. Your head fell backwards as you groaned at their hard thrusts and overstimulation, you could feel your back scraping against the great column and how it could drift into any momentum on you; but it seemed that didn't matter in the slightest to the man, slamming you flawlessly against the stone – "That's honey… Just a little longer and I'll fill you with my seed, you'll be mine… My wife, you want that right love, say it, say it."- Her bright golden eyes landed on your trembling body, still moving her hips quickly. His hand gripped your cheeks, forcing you to stare at him as his cock pounded your cervix – "Say it my love, say you want to be my wife, say you want me to fill you with my seed" – "And-I… Please make me yours… Fill me, make me your wife," you said between babblings as you stared lost in lust in the man. He let out a low growl and his teeth sank back into the soft skin of your neck, giving one last push to his hips and filling your insides completely with his abundant cum. You gasped at the amount and the bite, Crocodile's lips absorbing your skin while thick strings of cum continued to shoot inside you, filling your uterus to the full.

Soon Crocodile lay next to you, taking your hips and sticking his body to yours, hugging you lovingly as his eyes looked at you with pure adoration. His hand moved up to your cheek, touching it and putting a strand of your hair behind your ear as he kissed your forehead lovingly

"My desert flower, I am so happy to have you back in my arms… You are my wife now and there will be nothing to separate you from me, I promise my dear." -

#crocodile x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #x reader #one piece x you #sir crocodile x you

[babygirl-riley]

Reader always wears long clothing even during the summer due to eczema and ghost gets suspicious?

Desert Heat

Ghost has been your LT for couple of months now. It made since to him why you wore long sleeves during the cold season. Now that it is hot, it made him worry, especially when you freaked out when someone tried to pull them up.

A/N: Omgggggg I love soft simon or ghost! I could only imagine that he is very understanding and kind about insecurities.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of anxiety attacks, mentions of self harm, soft!ghost, swearing

Taglist

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

Ghost always kept a close eye on you. Anytime there was a mission he would make sure to be near you or with you. Soap would tease you about it, saying that the moment you stepped foot into the team Ghost was your shadow. You never truly believed Soap until the summer came along.

In the summer your skin will flare up with your eczema. Even though it’s easier to hide during the winter the summer makes it more irritated and flares up. You had certain medications and only one type of lotion to help it keep it at bay. You never liked it, always making you feel self conscious of how it looks.

So when you didn’t change your long sleeves it was normal for you. Didn’t think anyone would mind or pay attention enough. Oh how you were dead wrong. The heat of the day was little over 100, it was nice out, and due to you used to having the sleeves on it didn’t bother you.

Oh but how it worried Ghost, when training recruits he noticed you looked flushed. Tired. His thoughts ran wild of how it could be the start of dehydration. Or heat exhaustion. You smiled as you watched the recruits reaching the full potential of your training until Ghost came up.

“Fuck,” You whispered, you thought total different reasons on why he was approaching you. You fucked up a drill that is what you could only think of. “Yes sir?” You asked as he approached.

“Ya know it’s 100 out here yeah?” He asked looking at your clothing more closely now.

Confused you nodded. “Of course I do LT.”

“Ya wearing some long sleeves that ‘M sure that is not comfortable.” He commented again, you looked at his eyes, covered worry behind them.

You shrugged. “I’m not too hot but thank you sir.” Before he could say anything a recruit called out for you. “Anything else?”

He shook his head and nodded towards the recruit. Nonverbal indication to go handle it. That didn’t stop Ghost from watching more throughout the summer. He saw that you had different military graded long sleeves. Never once he saw you in any tank, t-shirt, hell even a bra. Always a sweatshirt at night and long sleeve in the day.

It had his mind wonder into different things. One thing that made his stomach turn, could you be harming. That is the one thing that he couldn’t shake off. He has seen it before in other soldiers but never his own let alone…someone he cared for in this type of field. Ghost offered a hand to hand just you and him, practice on close combat.

You were good but long distance was your strong category. It was a long but interesting hand to hand training, you would get the best of him at times but be quickly put on your ass. You would laugh when you would miss foot or kick hard enough on his side to have a huff get out of him.

“Come on Lt, that’s not the best you can do?” You teased, you and him had that ‘married couple’ banter. Both of you were the only ones that could do that to each other. Yeah Soap would give you shit but not like Ghost.

Ghost chuckled. “Just tiring you out doll.” He said feeling sweat gather on his back.

After a couple of hits he got you pinned on the floor. At first it was going to be an easy get away that was until your sleeve was sliding up. Panic coursed through your veins, as you watched through the corner of your eye. Ghost noticed and looked over, that’s when you yelled uncle and pushed as hard as you could.

Ghost snapped from the trance of seeing your skin. He grunted as you quickly stood up. “Thank you sir,” You said breathily. “See you in the briefing.”

And that was that. Before he could even speak a word you were gone. Ghost affirmed to himself that you were harming yourself. So no, you wouldn’t see him at the briefing. You saw him an hour later.

With the knock at your private quarters, you were shocked to see Ghost. “Sir…”

“Don’ sir me,” He started to walk on shutting the door behind him. “I tryin’ to not invade ya space however,” He looked at your sleeves. “I am worried.”

You gave him a confused look then chuckled. “You don’t need to be worried Ghost.”

Ghost still wasn’t looking at you, after a couple of minutes it hit you. “Why do you wear the long sleeves? It’s hot in the summer here and I can tell when you get over heated.” He explained as he looked up at you.

You bit your lower lip as you turned away from him. “Just like them is all.”

Ghost noticed the change in your demeanor nice but standoffish. For a SAS they are trained to see these things, anything that changes can help them through a stand off or interrogation. You knew of it and tried so hard to act it off. But your anxiety said different.

“Don’ bullshit me y/l/n,” Ghost said gently grabbing your wrist having you slowly turn to him. You saw the concern in his eyes. “I-Are-Are you hurtin’…”

Your eyes went wide. “No,” You said ripping your wrist away. “Sorry no…it’s just…it’s not pretty still. My skin isn’t pretty.” You looked away wrapping yourself softly with your arms.

Ghost now was confused, scars maybe? Burns? He understood that, he had them underneath his clothing. He walked closer to you. “I highly doubt that,” You snapped your head up as he grabbed your hand. “You are a-you are beautiful I don’ think scars are gonna…”

You chuckled, not because of his answer but because of everything else it could be he goes to the worst. “No Ghost it’s just,” You sighed pulling one of your sleeves up. Showing the eczema, the way it was bright red, traveling up your arm more. Ghost looked at you then your arm. “My skin just gets irritated and it just makes me feel not beautiful. People used to tell me I was a walking plague in high school because of it. So…”

Ghost scoffed. “Them bastards are idiots to think that,” He looked at you, you can tell he started to smile. “It doesn’ hurt?”

“Not usually, sometimes it feels like it burns if it’s super irritated but nothing crazy.” You said smiling but getting more shocked at the softness that Ghost was displaying.

Ghost sighed and nodded. “Maybe we can find somethin’ more light ya know? Not get too hot,” He stepped back for a moment. “Maybe a tattoo sleeve cover.”

You chuckled shaking your head. “Jesus Ghost.”

He stood there for another moment. “That should do yeah,” He looked up at you. “Debriefing is soon we better go.”

Ghost turned around as you walked with him. “Should have recorded you saying that I was beautiful.” You teased.

“Don’t test it Sargent.” Ghost mumbled feeling his face heat up. He was fucking happy that he had that mask on. Cause he felt like a school boy all over again.

However, you had to hide your face as it turned red. Knowing that your lieutenant thought you were beautiful.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley fluff

[drawingdroid]

The Unknown Regions I

A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic

Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances.

Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; injuries and blood; canon typical violence; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut to come in next chapters; porn with plot; plot with porn; Din Djarin needs a hug and a fuck.

Word count: 2,631

A/N: This is something I’ve started, 100% self-indulgent since I have been feeling bad about some recent body weight gain. It was going to be just some pure filth with heavy body worship but the plot started to have its own life. This will be probably about 3 chapters long, so if you think it may be something you’d enjoy, I’m grateful to have you here!

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

It had been a long day and you were finally preparing to go to bed. You decided to pamper yourself a bit since you’d been more stressed than usually. So you took a long, hot shower. It was a luxury there in Tatooine, but one of the perks of your workplace were the good job conditions. Nevertheless, last weeks had been hectic and you had to stay at your office longer than normally. You loved your job, but you also appreciated some work-life balance and you weren’t having it at this moment. And your body was taking a toll too.

When the water went cold, you carefully exited the bathtub. Before wrapping yourself in a towel, you examined your body thoroughly and sighed. You had always fallen on the bigger side, and you liked it. Your curves, your softness, they made you feel sexy. But since you started this job, it was clear you hadn-t been taking care of yourself. The long hours at the observatory meant less sleep, less time to exercise and cook homemade, hearty meals. Not only did you feel more tired, but also it was clear that you had gained weight. You observed carefully the new stretch marks, the plush of your breasts and the tummy roll that wasn’t there before. Your new body. It looked kinda cute, but now your clothes didn’t fit anymore and your full bust spilled in every of your outfits. And the other problem was that you compared yourself with the other girls at work. It always escalated until you would start to feel insecure and your confidence weakened.

You sighed again and finally grabbed the towel, wrapping your hair, and then used another one to dry your body. After applying your lotions and skincare, you chose a beautiful nightie and then finally went to bed to resume reading the holobook you had been reading before on your commute to the observatory. It was important to you to have a comfortable nest where you could feel protected from the outer world, so you had invested in the softest duvet to cover you on Tatooine's cold nights. You were perfectly relaxed, even had a scented candle burning to help you decompress, when a blaster shot made you jump from the mattress .

Your first instinct was to drop to the floor and open the drawer on your nightstand where you hid your own gun. Your father had given it to you when he learnt that you would be transferred to the dangerous desertic planet. More shots, men shouting and a lot of metallic sounds. For the Maker’s sake, this compound was meant to be secure, these things didn’t happen to you anymore. It was very hard for you to achieve being in a stage of life where you felt safe. You were feeling afraid, but also angry. These people had broken into your little bubble and ruined your perfect evening.

The shooting continued and with every shot you flinched, but managed to prepare your blaster to defend yourself in case something happened. Maybe you’d have to accept the idea that there wasn’t anything like “safe” on Tatooine’s surface.

You stayed still and quiet for a while until the sounds ceased. Finally you could breathe, your heart still pounding, and dared to move. When you decided that it was quiet enough to stand up, another sound froze your blood. Your front door. There was someone there. You started trembling. You could call security. The residential complex where most of the observatory workers lived had its own since Tatooine’s law enforcement was…well, non-existent. But after a shooting like this, they’d surely have their hands full. Kriff, what if they had been killed? A shiver ran through your spine. There was a stranger at your door. Maybe they were hurt, or worse. You hadn't heard more noises. But the loud clank against the metal surface had been clear enough.

The decision to not be reckless won, and you called security from your holocom. But as you had expected, no one was responding. A low grunt came from the front door. You inhaled sharply.. They were in pain. What if they were some of your coworkers even?

You convinced yourself to bite the bullet and be brave about it. After the rebellion, you decided to not get involved in more conflicts. You had had enough for a lifetime. But there you were again. Laying against the wall in your nightie with your blaster against your chest.

“Hello?” No response. “Someone there?” Anything.

It felt a bit ridiculous to ask politely to a potential attacker. After stewing over for a while, you were determined to check yourself if there was actually someone at your doorstep. Inhaling sharply, you counted to three for yourself and opened the door at the same time you aimed your blaster with determination.

Another clank.

What the kriff.

You slowly lowered your blaster. There, laying on a puddle of his own blood, there was a huge man covered in armor.

“Hey, are you okay?” What a stupid question, of course he’s not. You started to get nervous. There was a lot of blood there. The stranger then said something but his voice was so weak you couldn’t hear him. Never stopping aiming your blaster towards him, you crouched next to his helmet. He repeated his words.

“My…kid…” Maker, there was a child in the shooting? You looked around yourself frantically, but in the dim light only your own lawn was visible.

“Where is he?”

“They…have taken him…” Something in his strained, modulated voice, broke your heart. You’d always had a soft spot about children.

“We’ll find your son. But you are bleeding out and no one is dying today at my doorstep.” You observed his frame and decided that the best was to drag him inside from his underarms. “I’m gonna get you inside, ok?”

He just hummed groggily and you decided to take that as a yes.

You had spoken too soon about dragging him. He was kriffing heavy and you had to use all your willpower to get him in your house. After one of the greatest physical efforts of your life, you finally laid him on your carpet and then sprinted to the bathroom to bring the med kit. Kneeling next to him, you tried to localize his wounds, but with the dark flight suit, it was almost impossible to know if he was bleeding somewhere. Your hands started shaking over the idea that maybe he was actually going to die on your floor. You grabbed your commlink to call the med center, starting to panic.

“I’m calling the med droid, I can’t help you.” You said to the unconscious man, worry drawing a line between your brows.

“No…droids.” You jumped when his gloved hand grabbed your wrist with surprising strength, but the next moment he was dropping it and looking gone for good. Okay, you weren’t the one to contradict the unknown warrior. Trying a different approach, you decided to guess where his injuries were by touch. Some drenched patches between his armor informed you where his major injuries were, so you cut his flight suit there. No time for undressing him.

The wounds looked like knife stabs after you cleaned them. You pressed both the one in his tight and another under his chest plate, to stop the bleeding and then applied bacta spray. But it wasn’t enough. He was growing colder every second and his heart rate was slowing. He was going to die, you realized.

You looked around you desperately trying to think when an idea came to mind. First, you started your stove as fast as lightning and then you chose your largest knife from the drawer. While anxiously looking at him, you put the knife on the flames and then ran to his side again.

“Sorry, this will probably hurt…” And before the knife became cold, you pressed the flat surface of the tool directly against his skin. The smell wasn’t beautiful and neither were his groans of pain, but at least it looked like he wasn’t waking up. You checked the wound and finally it had stopped bleeding. You cleaned the knife and repeated the process in the other stab. After several times, the tissue looked closed enough and only then you started to disinfect the burnt areas with care. They’ll leave nasty scars, but at least when you put your ear next to the helmet, it looked like he was breathing although shallowly.

It was almost dawn when you decided he was out of danger. Exhausted, you finally were able to remove his armor in order to drag him somewhere more comfortable and dress his wounds. It was hard to find the hidden mechanism, but once you got it you were fast. First you removed his heavy chest plate. Probably he’d breathe better without it, Then you put aside the pauldrons and the vambraces, and finally his side and back plates and ended with his legs.

Removing the sticky flight suit and his undershirt was an ordeal, but when the first of the two suns started to appear in the horizon, you had achieved the first part of your mission and his chest wound was fully dressed. While you were bandaging him you hadn’t noticed, but now under the orange light and having finished your task, you could admire the man you had saved. And maker, what a beautiful creature. His torso was strong while lean. You felt bad for the big scar the burn you would leave on his golden skin.

You resumed with his pants and you tried so hard not to look but you were just human and well, wasn’t he gifted there too. Tending to his thigh wounds you had noticed how thick his legs were, but now just down to his undergarments, you noticed the warrior’s actual strength.

You scolded yourself for lusting over the man who almost died in your carpet and was, probably, a criminal. And also a dad. When every wound was tended, you moved to his helmet. Since it had some kind of seal, you hadn’t lost precious time removing it when you couldn’t find the release button the first try. You trashed around the garment until you found said button, hearing a hiss, and put your hands around the helmet to carefully remove it.

The next thing you know is that you’re laying on your back, the warrior on you while he’s pinning your wrists effectively against the bloody carpet, his thick thighs keeping yours in place. You blinked, incredulously. Wasn’t this man on the verge of death? What the kriff?

“What do you think you’re doing?” His raspy, low baritone made you shiver. You should be scared, but your self-preservation instincts had abandoned you. IOn the surface of the T shaped visor, you could see your reflection. Rosy cheeks and doe eyes for the man that was threatening your life.

“Saving your metal ass.” You sassed, lifting your chin proudly. It looked like he wasn’t fully aware of himself since it took him half a minute to process the situation. He then started to release you slowly, but stil tense in mistrust. The skin where he had been grabbing you now felt cold. You looked at each other for what it felt like an eternity.

“M’ sorry.” He finally apologized sitting on his heels, noticing his bandages for the first time. Then he observed you, now on your elbows, your nightie ruined with his blood and purple eye bags under your beautiful eyes. “Did you do this?”

“The stabbing, no. The healing, yes.” You responded while looking for a comfier position on the floor, still on guard but curiosos about him.

“Thank you.” He said after a long silence. You finally released your breath.

“It's sloppy work, I’m afraid it will scar over ugly. Sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter. Thank you.” He repeated. He now looked disoriented , like a lost child. A 180 cm child. Oh wait.

“You…your child, you said someone took him.” He inhaled sharply and his tan shoulders tensed, your words hitting him like a thousand bricks. Then he tried to stand up but almost fell. You stood up fast enough to hold him before he could hurt himself. “Wait, you lost a lot of blood there.”

“I need to find him.” His voice was strained, like he was about to cry. You put his arm around your shoulders and he let you. It was like all the fight energy from before evaporated the moment you named the kid. The warrior’s skin felt warmer now, thanks to the Maker. You only hoped it didn’t become too warm due to infection. He was still heavy without his armor, and although he was making an effort, helping him lay on the sofa wasn’t easy.

“Look, you lost a ton of blood and have poor cauterized wounds from a random girl. You can’t find anyone in this condition.” You tried to not sound too harsh but the truth was there. “Don’t you have anyone you can call?”

He sat looking so defeated it broke your heart, but he finally nodded.

“That’s great, contact them then while I prepare some breakfast. You should hydrate and eat something.” He fixed his visor on you while you went to your room to change into something that wasn’t bloody and sheer to start with. When you returned, he was apparently speaking with a man. You gave him privacy while preparing some scrambled eggs, broth and fresh fruit, considering if you should call in sick to your job.

“They left you for dead, you have that advantage. They won’t expect you when you strike back .” Said the man in the holo. He was middle-aged and looked elegant. He then he spoke again in a kinder voice. “But you should focus on resting and healing now, Mando. Let us take care of it.”

“Thank you Karga, really.”

“Anything for the little one.” And then he hung up. The warrior put his head between his thighs, looking like the most miserable creature in the world. Your chest ached at the sight.

“Here, have some broth, you should hydrate. And probably have a transfusion too.” You half joked, sitting with the tray next to him. Mando, as you heard the bearded man call him, looked at you as if you were a ghost. You handled the tray to him carefully but he didn’t move at all. The longest and most uncomfortable silence went on until you decided to stand up and went to prepare for work.

“If you need to use the refresher, we have warm water here, not just that sonic excuse of a shower.” You started while sipping from your mug trying to look nonchalant. “I need to head to the observatory now, but you can stay as long as you need. That was such a beating you took.” You looked at the bruises that were forming across the golden skin you were desperately trying not to observe all the time. Both of the suns were up now, and they illuminated his frame beautifully. And the mess of dried blood in your floor and carpet, too.

You sighed. “Ok, I need to leave now, if you need anything…” You scribbled your commlink frequency in a holopad. It was strange how this looked as parting with a one night stand you won’t be seeing again. You had a certainty he wouldn't be there when you returned either.

“Thank you.” He finally acknowledged the tray and then nodded in your direction. Confused, injured and desolate, you felt guilty for leaving him there. But today was important since the planet you had been studying was the closest to Tatooine…You couldn’t miss the opportunity even though it felt so wrong.

“Take care, Mando.” You said before disappearing through the main door in a hurry.

Next chapter

#din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x plus size!reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #droidwrites

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Now You See 'Em, Now You Don't (18+)

Part 1 of Ghosts and Mirages

Warning: Heavy mentions of blood, gore, violence, and smut. Choking, finger fucking, mirror sex, voice kink. Plenty of smut.

!Please beware!

Summary: After a dangerous encounter leading towards your own capture and torture, you; Codename "Mirage", went from one of the best snipers on the task force with a bubbly sense of humor and strong wit, to a stone-cold demeanor woman who let her vendetta get the better of her, almost costing her the lives of her teammates.

Ghost wasn't too happy about this, and based off experience, he refuses to let your mind head down that path any further.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Mirage can be many things: A body of water in the middle of a desert, an assassin in the dead dark of the night on a rooftop, a glimmer of light reflecting off hot pavement before the sun set, all disappearing from the eye the moment you get too close.

People could say that the words ghost and mirage have pretty similar meanings, but not towards those who took the names to identify themselves by.

You wished you could say you worked hard to earn that name, which you slightly did. Once the name was put to the wind, it permanently stuck to you ever since.

Your top specialty was your excellent aim, always volunteering yourself to take the liberty of helping the squads you were assigned to. If there was a group of snipers, you would take the lead and give orders. If you had to work alone, you gladly did so.

Your actions didn’t go unnoticed, gaining the attention of those who took an interest in your talents. You couldn’t fully admit publicly that you were proud of your skills, believing that karma could come back and bite you in the ass one day, but you definitely felt a swell of pride with every compliment that flooded your earpiece.

You couldn’t exactly remember when you found yourself working alongside the men of Task Force 141, eventually fully assimilating yourself into the team. While being unaware if any of the higher ups had officially approved it, you doubt they were going to say anything against it now.

Price definitely wasn’t complaining, that was all you really cared for.

After a short while during a mission, an interesting game of name picking occurred after completing your objective to eliminate any enemy snipers. While the option of using a suppressed rifle was possible, there were only five camouflaged snipers along the cliffs, allowing you to sneak up on them one by one and jam a knife into their necks, severing vocal cords before they could even scream.

Soap had taken the liberty of giving you the name “She-Ghost,” which caught you off guard as you hid in the dry grass, a few feet away from your recent victim. Why She-Ghost? None of your enemies saw you coming.

You’re pretty sure Ghost had his own name and reasoning trademarked. You were alright with the man, but you never saw anything between the two of you that you shared in common, let alone enough to share a code name. Price shut down any future commentary on the topic before reminding everyone to focus on the mission at hand.

“She-Ghost sounds kind of sexist, by the way.” You couldn’t help but pitch into the silence that followed after.

“It does not.” Soap retorted.

“It does.”

“Enough,” The gruffy voice of Ghost spoke up. “Calling her She-Ghost makes her sound like she’s my sister.”

“You’re right. I just remembered yer’ old enough to be her dad.” Soap retorted, making you bite your lip to suppress a laugh.

“Thanks for making me feel young, Johnny.”

You wish that night ended much easier than it sounded, but it wasn’t.

Somehow, you missed a sniper to kill, who then alerted his comrades of the lone assassin hiding up on the cliffs. The loud struggles and muffles were heard by everyone through your earpiece before connections were cut, your attackers knocking you out with the butt of a rifle to your right temple.

Where you were dragged off to was a mystery. Where you had woken up was also a mystery, but not the enemies who surrounded you when you were woken up via water being poured over your head, bound and gagged to a chair. You were stripped of all your equipment, leaving you in your simple garments. The room smelled dank, the air heavy with expensive, putrid cigar smoke. The only source of light hanging from a bulb over your head, your vision too blurred to fully make out the faces of the men standing in front of you.

Their were four people in the room: one of them you recognized straight away as your crew’s target. He grabbed ahold of your jaw and forced you to look at him, speaking to you in a language you didn’t really care to learn all that well just yet. He stepped to the side, directing your head towards a camera stand a few feet away pointing straight towards you. A tiny red light confirmed that whatever was to happen was all being recorded.

Saying you were scared was a ridiculous understatement. You were at mercy to the men inside this room inside a building in the middle of god knows where, who planned to torture and kill you before sending the video off to your team. Hell, it might even be broadcasted live to those who fought for the enemy, setting an example to what happens to enemy soldiers, especially women such as yourself, for fighting against them.

You were tortured inside that small, dimly lit room for hours, maybe even longer. There was no way you could tell the time, your hands kept tightly bound behind the backrest of the wooden chair. You were pretty sure they even took your watch away.

After constant punches to your face and body, the leader began speaking to you again in his common language. When you didn’t answer any of his questions, you were beaten even more until he tried again. This process went on for a good while, not a single word leaving your lips.

Then, he got smart enough to speak to you in broken English, but the only response he got from you was a wheezy laugh. He wasn’t satisfied with the response, extending his hand, being gifted a knife by his comrade. After asking you one more time and receiving nothing in return, he dug the blade down the side of your face. The sharp sting of the knife scraping your right cheekbone down to your bottom lip made you cry out.

What made it worse was their unique creativity, forcing you to talk once more while slicing the tips off Cuban cigars before igniting them. When you didn’t, their leader proceeded to blow smoke in your face before deciding to cauterize your fresh wound with the burning end of the cigar, laughing at your screams when they twisted it deep into your cheek.

“Hurts, no? You talk now?” He questioned you, gripping ahold of your chin.

“Go... to fucking hell!” You gritted out before spitting blood to his face, making him wince and retort. You laughed at his reaction, seeing him wipe it off with visible disgust before grabbing ahold of your neck, squeezing hard and tilting your attention upwards. He held the end of the blade right in front of your right eye before pulling it back, preparing to kill you right then and there.

Seeing you weren’t afraid, or he was just as chickenshit as he looked, He lowered his hand, clicking his tongue before handing the knife back to his partner, who carelessly left it on a table near the door. Gesturing towards the two others, they yanked you off the chair and dragged you out of the room, leading you to god knows where in this building.

You would think that their expensive taste in cigars meant that they could afford better quality tape. The water they had thrown on you prior had weakened the adhesive just enough for you to allow your wrists some wiggle room.

Releasing one of your hands, you yanked yourself from the men's grips, pulling the tape over the closest man’s neck to act as a last-minute choker. You tugged hard, hearing him choke while his partner quickly pulled out his gun. The bullets he fired naturally hit your new man-shield, quickly pushing the slumping body towards his partner before wrestling for the gun, headbutting the man before firing half the mag into his skull.

Faint bursts of bombs echoed from the outside, letting you know that you were close to an exit, and something was definitely happening outside. The exit was reasonably tempting, but with you now being in possession of a gun, you proceeded to stumble back the way you came from.

A man quickly stepped out of the room when he got notified of the commotion, immediately getting shot in the head before he could draw his own weapon.

You fired the last two bullets towards the only remaining man in the room, sending him to the ground in agony as the bullets punctured the back of his knees. Throwing the weapon aside, you reached for the knife from the table, getting down on the ground to turn the man over to his back.

It wasn’t the leader, you quickly realized that. It was just some goddamn man dressed in a similar uniform. The man you were after had gotten away after you were dragged off.

He pulled a gun from his belt, pistol-whipping you to throw you off guard. He fired, the bullet barely grazing the shell of your ear, making a piercing ring rattle your throbbing head.

You jammed the knife into the man’s neck before he could shoot you again, shouting in his face while you pushed his arm away. Refusing to stop there, you pulled out the knife to embed it straight into his chest, puncturing his left lung. You repeated the action over and over, watching his mouth fill with blood as major arteries were struck. The substance stained your hands and blade, splashing onto your face every single time you retracted. You screamed out your rage with every stab, feeling the knife repeatedly scrape against rib bones and puncture his heart.

The camera had fallen over from the chaos, the cracked lenses capturing an angle of your body sitting over his, witnessing the bloodshed that stained the ground.

A sudden rush of footsteps came running down the hallway towards the room you were in. Those who entered first witnessed firsthand when you jammed the blade into the man's right eye, your throat raw from screaming.

You looked up, seeing familiar looking clad soldiers entering the room, led by an all too familiar man scoring a black mask with a white painted skull standing beside another familiar mohawk wearing man.

“What... took you so damn long Lieutenant?” You panted while raising yourself from the corpse, tasting blood on your tongue from the throbbing gash on your bottom lip, bleeding even more after your consistent screaming.

“Been here for a while actually, I was just enjoying the show.” Ghost set aside his rifle, watching you finally release the knife, wiping your stained hands on your ruined shirt before tugging the remnants of tape dangling off your wrist.

“Sorry it ended so soon,” You muttered, bringing a hand over to your chest while catching your breath, feeling it grow difficult as a tight, painful sensation started under your ribs. You stood slowly, stumbling onto your feet as your relief diluted your adrenaline rush, reminding you of the pain your body was experiencing prior.

“Woah, woah... easy.” Soap brought you into his arms after you took a couple steps forward, allowing you to lean on him for support. “Easy there, lass.” Soap gently held onto your sides, feeling your sharp wince and immediately relaxing his grip. You trembled a bit, your breathing growing raspier than a few moments prior.

“I think they broke one of her ribs Lt.”

“If they did, she’d still be screaming. Punctured lung sounds more like it, go easy on her.”

“I didn’t think.. I just didn’t think you guys would come for me.” You admitted with bated breath, feeling Soap hoist your arm over his shoulders to provide additional support while you stood.

Ghost picked up the abandoned camera from the floor, pulling it off of its stand. It had still been recording this entire time, wondering what kind of footage this thing had received: Important discussions between the enemies next hideout location or our torture. Most likely both. The time he saw in the far corner of the screen showed just how long you were left victim to these men, finding it a miracle you were still alive before it could’ve gotten worse.

He wasn’t a fool to how these men treated women, especially female prisoners.

He dreaded having to watch every single minute of the footage later.

“And lose the best sniper we got on my watch? Don't think so little of yourself, (Y/n).” Ghost came closer, black painted eyes staring at the state of your face. Despite the bruises hidden underneath your ruined clothes and along your jaw and left eye, the intense gash across your face looked nasty, darkened with dirt and ashes as it continued to seep thin ripples of blood, trailing down to the bottom of your jaw.

“Let’s get you out of here, kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy the chapter so far? Full (smut) version on my Ao3!

Read here as well on my Wattpad!

#simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #Simon riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghosts & mirages #call of duty #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #cod simon riley #cod smut #cod simon ghost riley

[hanihazeljade]

Three Weeks

As the snow fell into the streets of Gotham, covering her land with white sheet, he stepped out of the plane. He shivers. He missed the deadly coldness of his hometown. The pollution never seemed to change back when he left 7 years ago. He sighed, white mist blowing out of his mouth. He will only need to stay here for three weeks. Three weeks and he will go back to Japan.

After many years of being away to his adopted family, Tim comes back to Gotham for Cassandra and Stephanie's wedding.

(CW: flashbacks, negligence, swear words, a badass Timothy)

Tim looks outside of the bus. His eyes watch the streets of Gotham. Christmas lights are on as it was 5 days away from Christmas. He watched and watched, like he always did, as classical music blasted to his airpods until the bus hit the stop to Bristol.

In all honesty, he could ask Alfred to fetch him but the man is now too fragile to his liking to be doing him favours. He rather takes the 40 minute walk from the station to Wayne Manor. He doesn’t mind the cold, he actually prefers to be freezing every single moment of his life. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the burning desert in Iraq.

With his suitcase on his tow, he started walking to the peaceful street of Bristol. The snow gently falls into his face and quickly melts but some falls into his lashes and brows and he couldn’t bring himself to wipe it off. He likes the small blur on his sight, it shows that he doesn’t have to stay vigilant in this city. Twenty minutes into the walk, he saw the Drake Manor, still in its pristine shape, hopefully. He walked as he tried to look past the gates of the once house of his, snow is piling up but he will be visiting it once he gets his stuff unpacked.

As he starts to get closer and closer to the Wayne Manor, nostalgia hits him. The good memories flood his mind. Bruce giving them a small pat or rarely hugs, Dick trying to spoil all of his siblings, Cass putting glitter bombs to the most unique places together with Stephanie, Jason joking his death again and again, Damian giving them Alfred the Cat as a stress reliever, and Alfred giving them hot cocoa on the worst days and cookies on the best.

But obviously, if it's all just good memories, he will not leave Gotham. The bad to the worst memories starts to resurface. The threat of Arkham, the throat-slitting episode, the pushing to his death story, the I choose to follow Batman rather than to be honest with you thing, the hellish training with Lady Shiva and many more that he couldn’t remember. He shook his head to remove those memories. It’s been more than a decade since that happened and he has healed already. No need to reopen old wounds.

His time in Japan definitely made him more aware that he doesn’t need other people to love him. He can just do it himself. He starts to sleep for more than 6 hours a night. He eats three times a day, sometimes with a balanced diet, sometimes just pure sodium for ramen or just straight up scooping Nutella out of the jar. He now prioritises himself over others. He works for himself and not to get approval from anyone. He is now him, just Tim. A simple Tim that loves to photograph and now be the object of his photographs. 

Many things change over the course of time. He forgives the Waynes but he will never call himself one. Waynes never treats him like family, except for Cass, bless her pure heart, and he is now giving it back, the treatment of an acquaintance. Not family. Not friends. But acquaintances. That’s all the Waynes are to him now. Because god forbid that his teenage self is simply obsessed with them. He rolled his eyes on the thought.

As he was letting his thoughts wander, he finally arrived at the prestigious Wayne Manor. The gates are open so he let himself into the other five minute walk of the driveway. As he stared at the old oak wood door, he sighed, trying to compose himself as he will be in their presence for the next three weeks. After trying to console himself, he knocks hoping that it will be Alfred who will open the door for him. After a few minutes of waiting on the porch, the door opened, revealing the foyer of the Manor and Alfred standing in front of him.

“Hi, Alfred.” Tim smiled at the old man.

Alfred, still in shock but smiled back to him, “Welcome back, Master Tim.”

And then suddenly there is a commotion behind Alfred, making the two gentlemen on the doorway look. It shows Damian and Jason. Seems like the two are trying to race to see which one will get to the door first. Childish competitions, like what brothers do. Jason and Damian look at them, first to Alfred and next to Tim. And he looked back at them, giving them a gentle smile.

“Hi, Timmerly. You look different.” Jason spoke out of the blue.

“Thank you, Jason.” He said, “You look different, too.” he added. Jason has indeed changed. The white stripe of hair due to the dip is still there but the face and the body itself evolved. Jason looked taller than he last saw him, The tight wool sweater emphasises the bulk body of Jason. And that face of his, is always exceptional but more relaxed.

There he heard a cough and gave his attention to the person. “Timothy, you look alright.” Damian said, standing in his glorious 6 foot 3. His tanned skin is honeyed perfection and his build is more similar to Bruce and Jason. Green eyes looked at him like it was captivating his soul. The Demon Brat is gone and was replaced by a hulking man.

He was shocked for a fleeting second before replying, “Thank you, Damian.”

“Young Masters, as much as I like that the three of you are conversing like normal human beings, Master Timothy needs to go inside first. It is freezing out there.” Alfred interrupts them and tells Jason and Damian that he is still indeed on the porch. Jason without waiting a moment, went and grabbed his suitcase and he proceeded to go inside the manor. 

Tim asked Alfred, “Where will Jason put my suitcase?”

“In your room, Master Tim. I mean, your old room.”

“Oh.” He just said as he took off his scarf and coat and gave it to Alfred, as he left the three on the foyer.

He starts walking into the Manor and walks past the library with the rest that didn’t meet him on the door. Steph and Cass are cuddling each other on the couch while Bruce is on the loveseat fiddling something in the tablet, probably about Wayne Enterprise, and Dick is on one of the bean bags that is scattered in the library. The first one to notice him is Cass, of course.

“Little brother, welcome.” She said as she reached out one of her arms to him. Her acknowledgement of his presence makes everyone in the room aware of his existence.

“Timmy!” Dick shouted as went to him and hugged him. It kinda still startled him a little bit, but he awkwardly hugged Dick back. 

Bruce gave him a smile, “Welcome back, Tim.”

Steph hit his back, “When Cass actually told us that you will come for our wedding, we didn’t believe her.“

Tim touched the spot Steph hit, “I would not miss it for the world.” Then he walked to Cass, “Hey, sis.” Cass smiled back at him. “Winter wedding, really?” 

“Hey, winter weddings are beautiful. And Cass will look like an angel.”

“And you are the demon that made Cassandra fall down from heaven.” A voice joined them, it’s Damian.

“Hey! That’s mean!”

The chaos and noises are relatively relaxing but when he yawns, he excuses himself. “Going to sleep, Timmy?” He nodded and replied with, “Jetlagged.”

Tim tried to remember where his room was. And thank god, he found it with no anomalies. He entered the room and saw the room that he left. The room is completely gone with cans of energy drinks or packaging of junk foods. The bed is comforting as he remembers, he saw his suitcase next to the nightstand. He opens it and gets a fitted cashmere turtleneck and fleece sweatpants. He took a quick shower and changed. He laid down on the bed and let sleep take him.

 He woke up the sun already down and darkness already took the city. He grabbed his phone and looked at what time it was. 8:05 am. Huh?? Oh, his phone is still in the Japanese Time Zone. He quickly changes it and freshens up. He looked at the wide mirror in his bathroom, and assessed himself. He knows he changed when he moved to Japan. His toned body was dissolved into a more lean one. His hair was maintained into a shoulder length, but his hair is shining with a red undertone in the right light. He has an ear piercing. His face was more round and yet still sharp. He got taller but still the smallest to Wayne, even Cass is taller than him. No, he is not salty about it.

He scooped up a handful of water and splashed his face and hair. Once he could feel his rationality and sanity came back to him, he dried his face and went down to the kitchen. He needs something to ingest in his body, anything. He saw Alfred was making something in the kitchen.

“Master Tim, you are finally awake. Will you please call the others for dinner?”

“Sure, Alfred.”

He found everyone in the largest living room. Damian and Dick playing chess, Damian is winning. Stephanie is doing something together with Duke. Bruce is with Cass flipping in the catalogue of whatever they still need to add to the wedding.

“Hey, Alfred told me to get you all. Dinner is ready.”

Dinner is rather peaceful, but rather uncomfortable. Whenever his eyes linger for a little second longer on a dish, Dick is already putting it on his plate. Damian kept on giving him a piece of whatever Damian thought he liked. Jason is spoon feeding him on dishes on what Jason thinks he will like. If this continues, he will be fat and as a model he would rather not have that. The Japanese Modelling World is so strict when it comes to thinness of their own.

But after that dinner, he sighed as walked to his room, he grabbed a velvet box and went to what he thinks is Cass' room.

He knocked, then he opened the door. Waynes are known for just busting your door open before coming in, because apparently, privacy is a social construct. Tim is not a Wayne anymore and also he is one of the decent people who actually knocks before coming inside of someone’s personal space.

“Hey Cass. I got you something.” he said as he looked at his sister.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering, he pulled a velvet box and gave it to Cass. Cass accepts it and opens the blue velvet box, revealing a silver hair comb pin. Cass looked at him with huge eyes. He smiled at his sister, “My mother wore that at her wedding. She says my grandmother and my great grandmother also wear that to their wedding, and I feel like I am not the rightful owner of such a piece.”

Cass hugged him. He missed how tight Cass hugs him. The comfortable warmth that brings pleasant memories only, none of those scorching heat of Iraq. Maybe, maybe he can stay here for three weeks for Cass. For Cass.

#fanfic #dcu #timothy jackson drake #damian wayne #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #cass #steph #dick grayson

[pinkanonwrites]

Stargazers, New and Old

Another Vash fic! Forgive me, TWST Fans, I’m so deep in the paint on this guy it isn’t even funny.

Vash the Stampede/Reader, +3,000 Words, GN!Reader, Mutual Pining, Cuddling, Stargazing

Through your shared time as drifters, you and Vash had spent plenty of time together beneath the stars.

Granted, it was usually from the roof of whatever cheap hotel the two of you were staying at for the night, tearing into snacks and idly chatting about whatever Vash had or hadn’t accidentally managed to blow up that day. There’d even be a celebration sometimes, if things went right! Townsfolk would spill into the street, drinking and dancing and celebrating another one of Vash’s many perfectly timed victories as they piled your table high with heaped praise and overflowing mugs of alcohol. As hectic as they could end up being, you often got plenty of enjoyment out of the fuss, watching Vash stumble around sheepish and drunk as his praises were sung up to the starry evening sky.

But if you honestly had to choose? You’d say you enjoyed nights like these much better.

Sometimes Gunsmoke’s two suns would sink deep into the horizon and the two of you would find yourselves between towns, lost to the sands of the evening desert. Not too often, really. Usually Vash was quick to make sure you had at least the basic amenities readily nearby: food, running water, a creaky old motel mattress that was only barely better than sleeping on the floor. He was fine going without them for an evening or two, but he hated to put you out in any way. But sometimes you’d get stopped up along the way, or have to stealth around a bandit camp, or get distracted watching wild Thomases scamper up and down the sandy hillsides, and end up somewhere in the empty desert, iles from the nearest town.

Luckily both of you were prepared for this kind of thing at this point, Vash even proudly showing off some of his little “survival trinkets” he’d scooped up before meeting you, like a miniature campfire set that packed away into a pocket-sized tin.

“Ta-da!” And that was where the two of you found yourselves now, tucked around the fire at the base of a large dune, Vash presenting you with a metal camping mug full of instant noodles with all the pride and bravado of a chef presenting a five-course meal. “Your majesty, may I present…. Dinner!”

"Why thank you, chef." You took the mug with both hands, letting the warm metal soothe the calluses on your palms. As Vash prepared himself a mug you cracked him a sly smile. "Or are you more my court jester?"

"What, was 'knight in shining armor' already taken?" He chuckled, cupping his own mug in his gloved palms and sipping carefully. "YEOWCH! Still pretty hot! Be careful, m'kay?"

"I will." You blew on your own cup of broth before sipping it. Shuffling over a bit, you let yourself lean heavily into Vash’s side, leeching his excess body heat. A single glance up showed the rosy-red blush that began to creep across his face at the contact, but you chose not to comment on it. “It’s really amazing how cold the desert can get during the night.”

“It’s actually because there’s no humidity. Without the water in the air to hold the heat, it cools off a lot faster.” Vash took another slow slurp of his noodles, staring out over the vast landscape beyond your tiny fire. “Deathly hot in the daytime, dangerously cold in the night… It’s a really formidable place.” A familiar, distant expression overtook Vash’s face at that. He did his best to hide it from you but you’d long since caught on to it, those moments where his walls faltered and you could damn near watch in real time as the melancholy of a man who had seen far too much began to creep in along the edges.

“And yet, here we are.” You simply responded, gesturing to the small campfire with your mug before holding it up to Vash. You never really felt like you could offer him much in these moments, simple placations and apologies feeling far too hollow. But at the very least, you could offer this. “Cheers to surviving? Despite everything?”

He chuckled, low, soft, and tired, bringing his cup up to yours to clink the metal rims together. “Despite everything.”

You let your head thump gently against Vash’s shoulder, the two of you absorbing the cool silence of the desert night. There was little need for words between sips of noodles and broth; the silence with Vash never crept into uncomfortable. As the fire and your supper dwindled in unison the sky inched ever further towards utter blackness. With no towns within a good dozen or so iles in any direction the deep velveteen shades of space were even more apparent than usual, long strips of indigo and blue speckled with pinpoints of distant light. 

“All done?” Vash finally spoke up, taking your empty mug from your outstretched hand. “I’ll take care of these if you want to get the sleeping bags ready.”

“Sure.” 

The first few times you had slept out beneath the stars, you were adamant about having your sleeping bag a reasonable distance away from Vash’s. ‘Personal space,’ you insisted, even as he joked that you’d be too wooed by his natural charms if you slept any closer. But over time you just couldn’t help yourself. Getting to know Vash, to really know him, seemed to go hand in hand with your own sleeping bag drifting ever so slightly closer and closer to his with each passing night. Now you barely even blinked as you rolled the two of them out, side by side.

With a belly full of warm food and the promise of a cozy place to sleep ahead, the exhaustion seemed to wash over you in a sudden, leaden wave. You barely had the energy to kick your shoes off, shuffling yourself awkwardly into the bag until it was pulled nearly up to your chin. When Vash turned back around from putting your mugs away he barked out a short, surprised laugh.

“Comfy in there?”

You nodded, biting back a yawn as your eyelids fluttered. You watched through bleary lashes as Vash put the cap over the top of the pocket bonfire, snuffing the flame with a soft hiss and plunging his silhouette into moonlight. You could catch the vague shimmer off of his glasses lenses, the glint on the pauldron of his prosthetic arm, and the barest hint of a soft smile by the light of the five moons.

“I’ll finish cleaning up, why don’t you get some sleep?”

You nodded again, humming softly as you let your eyes slip fully shut and melted into the darkness behind your eyelids. “Mhm… Thank you, Vash.”

You swore that as the comfortable fuzz of sleep crept further into the edges of your mind, you felt a warm, metallic hand pat you gently atop your head.

And then, blackness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You normally slept incredibly well with Vash by your side, safe in the knowledge that whatever may happen, he’d be there to protect you.

Which is why it came as a bit of a shock to you when you jerked suddenly awake, the fog of some already-fading nightmare seeping away from your consciousness. Even as you struggled to recall it the details continued to slip away, flashes of smoke and gunmetal and blond hair streaked with clumped, drying blood all that remained on the peripheries of your subconscious. It left you as most nightmares do, feeling hollow and distinctly paranoid.

The chill in the air certainly didn’t help either. Even within the plush confines of your sleeping bag you could feel the cold cutting through, leaving your entire body tense and shivery, muscles aching. You certainly wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon.

But just as you saw fit to roll over and curse your bad luck, you noticed Vash. He was sat upright, leaning back on the heels of his palms, sleeping bag pooled around his waist as he tipped his head up towards the night sky. His face was lit in profile by cool, white moonlight, and without his familiar tinted lenses on you could see the reflection of a thousand little stars in his aqua-colored eyes. A look of incredible serenity was upon his face. You almost hated to disturb it.

But at some point he must have felt your eyes trained upon him, because he turned his attention to you, and that distant, moony gaze seemed to focus into something soft and concerned.

“What are you still doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You sat up and immediately regretted it, the frosty wind cutting straight through your thin, linen shirt. “Aren’t we getting up early tomorrow to beat the heat?”

“Yeah… Guess I just couldn’t sleep, is all.”

“Me neither.”

You fell silent again, following Vash’s gaze as it trailed back up towards the marbled sky. Shivering, you tucked your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them as your eyes flit back and forth across those tiny, oh so distant specks of light. It was hard to even imagine that each one was just like one of your two suns, even harder to imagine that somewhere out there is where humans originally came from. Was Earth somewhere in this milky spiral of stars? Could you find it, one day, if you really looked hard enough? Or was it already too far gone, too distant or dim or lost to the hubris of the people who came long before you? You supposed you’d never really know for sure.

“Do you know any constellations?”

You startled a bit when Vash broke the silence, and just barely in the moonlight you could see him put up his hands as a sort of ‘Sorry!’ gesture. He’d had time to adjust to the dark, so maybe he could see you better than you could see him. 

“Not really.” You replied. “I know what some of them are called but I could never figure out how you were supposed to find them.”

“Want me to show you? It’s really not that hard, if you know what to look for.”

You nodded, scooting your sleeping bag as close to Vash as you could get. He wrapped his right arm around you and rested his chin on your shoulder, reaching up towards the sky with his prosthetic. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, thrumming like an old yet sturdy machine. He outstretched a single finger, a thin glow of blue-green energy pulsing beneath the metal as he pointed.

“See that bright one, right there?” His voice was barely above a murmur, hesitant to break the silence of the vast desert. “Follow my arm, it’s gonna be just at the tip of my finger.”

“I…Think so? Is it just to the left of that kinda red one?”

“There you go! That’s the main point of Luridae, the Scorpion. It’s supposed to be the tip of the tail. If you draw a line to the one right below it, then the one below that, you follow the trail and make like, an upside-down hook shape. Seven stars.”

“But how is that supposed to be a scorpion?”

“You’ve gotta use your imagination!” He laughed at your furrowed brow, moving his hand a bit further to the right and up. “If you can find Luridae you can find Sula, the Spear. That’s an easy one, it’s those five stars in a straight line, see? It points right towards the tail.”

You squinted, trying your best to follow Vash’s instructions. Sure enough, just up and to the right of that bright star was a line of five, neat in a row like someone had sketched them up there.

“I see it! It’s right there, right?” You brought your arm up right next to Vash’s, sides of your arms touching all the way up to your palms as you traced the line in the sky with your fingertip. Even the metal of his prosthetic was unnaturally warm, just enough to be comfortable, like it was still holding its heat from the evening sun.

“Yeah, you got it!” His cheek was nearly pressed to yours, and you could feel him smile at your success. The excitement was infectious, leaving you feeling floaty and light despite your exhaustion. “Wanna try a few more?”

“Sure! What about up here?” You tipped your head all the way back, staring straight up into the night sky, only to wince at the sharp twang of pain you felt in the back of your neck. “Ow.”

“You okay?” Vash’s face filled your vision, expression soft with concern. You just shrugged, rolling your shoulder and pressing your fingertips into the tense muscle.

“I’m fine, just tweaked my neck a little. The cold just makes all my muscles kind of achey." 

Vash's hand rested on the side of your arm, almost hot to the touch against your chilled skin. How could he possibly run so warm? You wanted to melt into nothing more than a little ball curled up in the palm of his hand, dozing in the pleasant warmth it provided. Meanwhile his eyebrows had flown up his forehead, blinking incredulously at you.

"You're freezing! Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I dunno! I didn't wanna bother you? Besides, I didn't notice until I woke up, anyway!"

He frowned at you, unconsciously jutting out his lower lip in an adorable pout that made your heart stammer in your chest. He made a lot of faces like this, smug little smiles after a trick shot or delighted beaming grins over dinner, even those soft, bittersweet little expressions he'd shoot your way when he thought you weren't looking; faces that made you want to just throw caution to the wind and lean in and kiss him until you both ran hot and breathless.

But you couldn't. Vash liked to joke about how fearless you were, unafraid of tailing after the Humanoid Typhoon through each town and city he blew through, but you weren't that brave. Not enough to risk the possible rejection of the person you cherished most in the world, even if he was under the impression he was doing it for your benefit. No, you were nowhere near that brave. Not yet.

"Maybe you'll just have to share with me then, if you want to keep warm!~"

"Can I?"

You both stiffened, neither of you expecting your response to actually come out of your mouth. Vash was clearly trying to tease you, you could see that now by the wide eyes and startled red fluster on his cheeks, but you'd been so deep in your own thoughts you hadn't even registered it properly until the words were already out of your mouth. You clammed up quickly, the back of your neck feeling hot and prickly as you cupped your hands over it and turned jerkily away from him.

"Ah! Sorry, I didn't- I wasn't really thinking I was just- You know I should have known you were just joking, so… so let's just go back to sleep. Sorry. This is weird… sorry."

You'd definitely said sorry way too many times. And he'd definitely noticed. But maybe he'd actually cut you some slack for once and not point out how effectively you'd just humiliated yourself in front of him. Or maybe you could just roll yourself up in your sleeping bag like a pill bug and in the morning you'd forget this entire exchange even happened.

"...Do you really want to?" He mumbled, warm fingertips resting on your upper arm again and sending a shiver down the length of your spine. He didn't pull away even when you flinched at the contact, voice staying hesitant, small, almost like he was trying to soothe a skittish animal. "I don't want you to freeze or anything. I really don't mind."

"It's not weird?" You'd almost mustered up the courage to ask 'I didn't make things weird?' but you chickened out at the last moment catching a glimpse of Vash's soft expression when peering at him from the corner of your eye.

"No, it's totally fine! I run kind of hot anyway. I can be your heated blanket." Seating himself all the way upright, Vash opened his arms to you, and it took everything you had not to dive into them the second the gesture was offered. 

Trying not to look as eager as you were, you slipped carefully out of your own sleeping bag, shuddering as you were buffeted by the evening air. It was a bit of an awkward clamber, one you tried desperately not to think too hard about as you burrowed your way in right next to Vash. He was a big guy, and the sleeping bag was barely big enough for him to begin with, so once you got yourself situated you found that you were basically snug up against him from your ankles all the way up to your neck. And oh, was it everything you'd imagined to be and more. You were curled up into his right side; he'd tucked you up in such a way that your head was resting right on his shoulder with his arm slung around you, keeping you close. The thin fabric of your pajamas did nothing to quell the heat that rolled off of Vash's body and seeped into your own. It was a familiar, achingly safe kind of warmth, like falling asleep in an afternoon sunbeam coming through the window and landing across a soft mattress. It felt right. It felt like home.

"Comfy?" His voice was so soft a murmur you could barely make it out, and you nodded for fear of any words being let out giving away your true feelings on the situation. How were you ever supposed to sleep on your own again, knowing that this bliss was just within arms reach? "That's good. Hey, try looking up now?"

You blinked up at the night sky, an endless expanse of stars and moons stretched over your heads. His free arm rose again, fingertip tracing an abstract, polygonal form against the starry backdrop.

"Rivus Minor, the Little River. You can follow it across the sky, just like this. Follow my hand, okay?"

"Yeah." You whispered, for you didn't think you had the strength nor the courage to speak any louder. You'd follow his hand as it traced the stars. You'd follow him to the driest, most desperate towns, the true wastelands. You'd follow him through hell and back out again, to the most barren edges of No Man's Land and back, a thousand times over. Even if he tried to leave you behind, for your protection he'd say, for your safety, you wouldn't be able to help but follow. You'd follow him through blood and gun-smoke and tears and keep following beyond. As long as Vash was there, you couldn't help but be there too.

"Okay. I'll follow you."

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #vash the stampede #vash #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #pink chat #my writing

[possibilistfanfiction]

do you have any funny or cute details about Bea(or avatrice) in your butch Bea universe that you haven't share yet?

(I'm definitely re-reading some of it to fight against this bad day I'm having)

hello i’m sry this is late! work has been busy 😵‍💫 i hope ur day improved or at least there’s been some better days since 🫶

hmm well bea is good at like… every outdoors activity she tries — she’s coordinated & strong & focused, so once she gets the body mechanics down she’s like. above average to Excellent fairly quickly. surfing, trail running, backcountry hiking, bouldering, trad climbing, skiing, etc. i am lazy & put them in socal since i am in socal lmao but for the majority of the year california really is just outdoor enthusiast paradise.

she started trying stuff bc ava was gone & she was so sad & when her cool friends from surfing were planning a trip to climb in joshua tree or some ppl she met on the pct were driving up to mammoth for an end of the season ski, it was all better to be moving outside in grief than it was to sit at home in an empty house.

i think that maybe she worries, when she’s alone surfing or on a long run along the cliffs, even just bouldering at the gym with her airpods in instead of hanging out w friends who are there — maybe she worries that ava would be disappointed in her, that this isn’t what ava meant by ‘live your life’ — quiet streams & long car rides into the piney forest in a practical small suv, listening to a podcast about architecture. it seems small, to be in the wild — the ocean, the woods, the mountains, the desert — & not grand; at least, she feels small. she worries ava wanted her to feel big.

but then ava comes back & bea has been keeping a list of all the places to show ava, all the things to do with her, the movement & the air that kept her just on this edge of sane. & of course ava is delighted by it all — the kid who cried on the beach when she saw stars? absolutely in love with the waves & the wind in the trees & the sunset on a big hammock on a hot night in the desert in the summer. it makes sense to ava & it is what she meant — settling into the texture of a life.

it’s good to feel small sometimes, yknow? she tells bea, when they’re eating sandwiches a few miles into a hike on the lost coast — ava refuses to camp, so they’re meeting friends later on. it’s good to feel small in a world that’s so big.

they make s’mores that night with their friends & it’s dark & beautiful; the sand & the sea & the sky are all wine-dark & quiet-loud; there are so many stars. it’s rainy & cold in the bay the next day & they sleep in & eat ramen & don’t leave their hotel room all day (ava’s request; if he had to hike ten miles he earned it tenfold). bea worried that a slow day might seem small too, but ava sinks into it just like everything else: rest & softness.

eventually bea gets more used to it, & better at letting it happen. in recovery from top surgery, the worst part is not being able to get outside for a while — but ava drives them both to the mountains & they sit on the balcony together while it snows. when ava can’t move as well, they sit in the warm sand by the beach & bea puts her hand on the small of her back when they walk in the cool surf. eventually bea’s shown ava every place she ached & then there’s the rest of the world left to explore.

#butch bea 🥺🫡 #if i could abscond to the mountains tomorrow forever i simply would #lol

[devilrose]

Tristan Legend and Giuseppi Mezzoalto from the Sims handheld series camping out in the Strangetown desert. The number of incredible tales that Tristan can share surely increases with the amount of beers had.

Commission for @just-ornstein - thank you for giving me an opportunity to do something with this concept :D

Ever since we discussed the idea of Giuseppi having kind of a crush on Tristan, I've been wanting to write a small fic about it, and working on this commission gave me the kick in the pants I needed. The bonus fic is under the cut. 388 words. It probably takes place a couple hours before the moment in the artwork.

Passenger seat

The desert eats people, they say, and they're right. It's not just the giant scorpions - it's the wind that rips out the dew from within your throat, it's the sky that's too tall and wide and blue and heavy; best to keep your mouth shut and your head down. The desert goes on, infinite wherever it spreads; a limitless space bisected by one straight road, a matter of basic geometry - that's where you drive fast and steady, alone for days in all directions, unless someone is filming some cheesy car commercial. The desert is the space of nothingness - but if you go there, you're searching for something, and you'll sure find it.

Tristan had been at the wheel for a few hours now. It had been baking hot all morning and afternoon; now the sun was finally going down, and in a couple hours it'd be the cold and dry night of the desert. Giuseppi stretched in the van's passenger seat. Not even a lone funky saguaro in the window to distract him from his thoughts. He turned to look at Tristan instead: in the late afternoon light, the stray frizz of his hair against the sun drew a golden halo. He was always like this, carrying that perfect glow, that dazzling charm, that winning smile. Giuseppi squinted his eyes to shield himself from that stupid brightness. What else could he do? Of course it hurt to see; someone like Giuseppi belonged firmly to the night, where dressed in black he concealed the wrinkles on his too-young face, the roughness that would never become smooth again. Tristan, instead, was all gold and shine, in spite of everything - what envy; and what delight. When he considered himself burnt enough, Giuseppi turned away to look at more rocks and sand. Strangetown was how many miles away now? There's nothing behind, and there's nothing ahead. The van drives on. In that moment, that's where the whole world began and ended.

Tristan slowed down, ready for a break. Giuseppi had promised to himself that he wouldn't slip back to his old ways, but maybe he had in him one last crime, if he would find the courage - to steal some sunlight from his lips. Would it be so bad?

//

#the sims #sims handheld #the sims 2 ds #the sims 2 gba #strangetown #tristan legend #giuseppi mezzoalto #selected commission work

[drunkenlionwrites]

People watching

Sorry that I’ve turned the fluffy request into a depressing stream of Vash’s consciousness. Hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless 

After the latest usual brawl and a flee from a small town next to the almost identical neighboring one, their group has ended up stumbling into the small tavern, almost fully packed with patrons. The girls rushed straight to the bar to order water, while Wolfwood had disappeared into the dark street saying he will arrange the hotel booking, since he needs to smoke and ponder about “stuff” as he phrased it. 

That left Vash sitting hunched all alone in the corner. He was weighed by the usual thoughts, that seemed to visit him often these last years since Knives emerged and proceeded with his plans. Vash leaned over the table, the hurt and angry faces of townsfolk of the town which they’ve left in desolation during the shootout with bounty hunters still so vivid in his mind. He did that again. He caused the usual havoc and wreckage to the homes of dozens innocent town dwellers, who were just trying to live their lives. He surely is a humanoid typhoon, isn’t he? 

A cheerful chirping sounds of familiar voice and a small thud of the bourbon bottle accompanied by two glasses being placed in front of him distracted him from his inner voice. He looked up at the intruder and it was you, smiling at him with your oh so warm smile. The same one you’ve usually shown to kids you saw during your travels, to the people you’ve assisted, as well as to people who have helped your group instead. It was broad and a bit crooked at one side, the one who warmed him from the inside just like morning suns would. Not yet scorching hot, but oh so cozily engulfing him after the cold desert night. “Drink with me and let’s go dance!” He heard your exclamation through the noises of clinking glasses, crass conversations, laughter and people dancing to the modest accompaniment of a guitarist and a flute player. He smiled at you reassuringly and then shook his head. “I’m a bit tired, so I’ll just stay here and watch over you, girls. Go and have fun for me okay?” he replied, gently pressing his glass of bourbon to yours in a toast. “I’ll be here drinking for you to have a good night”

He then watched how your small figure deftly maneuvered between tables and sitting people, joining a small crowd gathered on dancing floor. You’ve always been so graceful in your movements, so dexterous yet possessing something soft as well. He observed the way you swayed to the rhythm, soon joined by Millie and Meryl, the three of you sharing laughs and smiles, while engaging in a dance. His eyes darted to the other people dancing beside you. They all were mostly just simple townsfolk having leisure time before returning to their hard jobs the next day. His eyes glided over their faces: drunken, happy, relieved, full of life. 

Vash has always been in awe at how resilient the dwellers of Gunsmoke actually are. He admired the nature of humans, always stiving for happiness and the betterment of their lives, no matter how miniscule and short-lived moments can be. He tried to drown his heavy thoughts in sensory feelings, concentrating on how the tavern was filled with musky smell of sweat, tobacco, cheap booze and hearty vegetable stew some of the patrons were indulging in. The sounds of talking and laughing, the simple melody and people’s rhythmical stomping of feet. The sight of your hair swaying as you danced like there was no bother in your life, Millie’s and Meryl’s drunken uneven steps, even a local boy’s shy smile and neck crooned to face you closer… all this was a nice distraction.

 If you had stayed in this town long enough, he would have gotten to know and remember his name. He would’ve remembered the faces and names of all the people living here. Would’ve known all their little quirks and habits, all the troubles that weigh on their shoulders, everything that makes them laugh and brings them joy. He felt so tired and so disconnected from this world sometimes, yet he knew he still had his mission to accomplish, so he allowed himself to indulge in people watching as it made him feel closer to humanity, closer to something that he might’ve described as a feeling of belonging somewhere. But did he really? Belong somewhere...

He watched as you laughed at something the boy told you, accepting his offer to dance, as you eagerly put your hand in his. Would it have been better if it was his hand instead? Would you have smiled at him with the same smile? Or would it have been more…tender instead? Would he have been able to tug your hair behind your ear neatly instead of this boy?

It doesn’t matter in the end, since he will always walk this planet alone. At least he can watch over you while you walk next to him, no matter how short-lived it is. It better be short. It better be…since all of you cannot stay close to him after all is said and done. But he’ll think about it tomorrow. Tonight is all about people watching, after all.

#vash x you #vash x reader #vash fanfiction #vash headcanons #vash angst #trigun x you #trigun x reader #trigun headcanons

[sheep-from-rad]

Mornings. (Alhaitham/reader/Kaveh) Note: More Al Haitham imagines because I still haven’t drafted the Scaramouche idol fic and also because I’m craving curry. I’m too slow with the updates. Also, I just remembered I have an Ayato series that I still haven’t updated. Warnings: None  Masterlists: [masterlist 1] , [masterlist 2]

Most of the time it’s you that cooks in the house but today you somehow slept in and the cold of the previous night already dissipated. It seems like today is going to be a hot day. Temperature around the place fluctuates a lot because of two opposing forcesds from left and right. The cool winds from the forest to the left and the desert winds from the left sometimes clash, giving you a headache. You quietly descended down the stairs and were immediately greeted by loud voices. Much like the forest and the desert, they really love to clash a lot. 

“I’m just saying since you’re already on the stove you should make lunch as well.” 

“Aren’t you getting paid? Why don’t you just buy one?” 

“I like home cooked unlike you!” 

Slumped on the table is a still sleepy Kaveh. His hand holds a hot coffee and his hair is still a mess from the night’s sleep. In the mini kitchen stands Alhaitham with a long apron on. His hair is styled with hair pins (presumably from Kaveh) to keep it out of his face as heat and the smell of spice permeate through the air. 

"Eh? Oh, it's you. Good morning", Kaveh lifted his head up from the table and greeted. Alhaitham comes out of the kitchen carrying the freshly cooked rice in… “Did you just cook rice in a soup pan?” you asked as you rubbed your eyes. Alhaitham placed the pot down and pulled a chair for you to sit on. “I would cook it in the wok if someone didn’t use the wok to boil water for coffee.”

“I forgot where the kettle was!” “You’ll forget you have a head if it’s not a part of your anatomy!” 

You took your seat between the bantering men and spooned the freshly cooked rice and curry to your mouth. The taste of fresh ginger paired with other bold spices such as Jueyen Chili lingered in your mouth as you swallowed the spoonful.  In the background, the voices of the two bantering gentlemen fade as you inhale the spice. Honestly, if mornings are always like this and then you don’t mind it at all.

Taglists: @uchihaeirin | @eccedentesiast-sapphic | @tinandabin@chihawari | @zuri-feather | @jaxielous

#al haitham #kaveh #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin fluff #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gn reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #kaveh x you #kaveh x alhaitham #kaveh x reader #kaveh x y/n

[a-regular-ol-pill]

This might be out of nowhere but but Xavier x reader x Aamon threesome ( i mean they really are not that related but they're so hot like really really hooot so i just wanna be manhandled by both of em😭😭) fem reader if u may. Thank youu! xoxo

"Who are you to her?"

Mobile Legends; Bang Bang

Pairing; Xavier, You | Aamon, You | Xavier, You, Aamon.

!! NSFW 18+ !!

A/N: Apologies for any inconsistencies and the horrible layout. I'm getting the hang of writing again ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Pronouns Used: You, She/Her

Warning(s): Slightly OOC Aamon and Xavier, Dubious Consent, Manhandling, Smut, Threesome, Possessive Smut, Marking, Double Penetration in one hole, badly written smut, kind of sexual tension, just really really filthy smut, Etc...

You and Aamon were acquaintances. Not because you and him were friends; but because you worked for him. Since you were a kid, you were expected to tend to his needs. After all; you were the child of the most high end butler in the entirety of the Moniyan Empire. You were pressured, forced to stay and cook while your peers played all day.

Sometimes, you sneak out to pet the cat litter that was just near the playground. That's when you met Xavier. Xavier and his family had gone out to deliver shipments of merch to the Empire. He was told to stay put as his father bargained, due to that, and his boredom, he snuck away as well. He saw the cat litter first; didn't even see you as he stared at the kits in adoration.

You noticed him instantly and saw that as a chance to make a friend. And make a friend you did! In that short time Xavier's father and yours didn't notice your absence, you two bonded over liking cats! Blissfully unaware of Aamon who was watching. Because he was told to find you, as you were his new playmate/butler.

He envied the carefree attitude you both had and told on you to your father. Big mistake. The moment Aamon had said that you were slacking, you were pulled harshly back to the Castle Aberleen. Much to the horror of Xavier who was then caught by his father and taken away. You were given a heavy punishment; Forced to lift heavy shipments that your young body could barely lift; Forced to stay up until late at night to study so you could teach Aamon.

You grew to resent Aamon for that. And in turn, Aamon grew to resent himself. He regretted tattling on you and tried to cheer you up. Through your childhood— to your adulthood. He tried. Though, his efforts only met a stone cold face and a cold thank you. Albeit, growing warmer at each attempt. Your relationship was on thin ice, though, it was growing stronger. Even if it could crumble at any moment.

A few members of the House Paxley were requested to discuss the rivalry of the Knights of Light against the Light's Order of the Moniyan Empire; Why the House Paxley? They didn't tell you; But still, you and Aamon went. The topic of discussion was one you couldn't understand. A contrast to Aamon, who very actively participated in the discussion.

You weren't allowed to leave Aamon's side. So, to keep yourself occupied, you took down notes— Wrote down their responses word for word. Your actions caught the eye of the Youngest Arbiter of Light; Xavier had noticed how familiar you looked. But couldn't pinpoint why you looked familiar. He watches you. Eyeing the way you felt the intricate linings of the fountain pen with your fingers.

You were so.. familiar.. It kept bugging him. Until the meeting was postponed for both parties to think over each other's points. Aamon tapped your shoulder, and you two headed off to the dining room. Was it inappropriate to do so? Not really. The dining room was lined up with food; So the Knights of Light probably expected some of the residents of the House Paxley to eat.

Xavier followed you. As creepy as it may seem— He knew Aamon. But he didn't know you. Aamon was picking one of the deserts as you made sure no one noticed; it was the only time Aamon could indulge in sweets without getting told to watch what he ate; Someone taps your shoulder, you turn to the direction of said someone.

Instantly, your eyes locked onto Xavier's sapphire ones. The familiarity struck you both like thunder; You recognize him to be your friend! Why you were excited was self-explanatory. You get to reconnect with someone who also likes cats!

"Excuse me, may I know your name?" He asks, and you realize that you may have gotten too excited. Wait- what was his name? Maybe it'll jog up your memory. So you tell him your name, and he seems to perk up at that.

"Did you-." Suddenly. Aamon clears his throat. "I don't remember telling you that you could approach my butler, Xavier." He says bluntly. He knew his name, only because they sort of interacted when they clashed points. The air around you grows cold, and you look at Xavier apologetically.

"I'm sorry, but last I remember, you didn't say anything about me not being allowed to talk to your- ah, butler." Xavier's tone was passive aggressive; annoying Aamon even more. "You don't see me talking to your superiors about your obsessions with cats now, do you?" He spat, and Xavier furrows his brows. How did he know?

"Aamon.." You start, but the two are at a stand off. "Oh.. I remember why she looked familiar now.." Xavier says in a low tone. "You tattled on us because you were a pitiful child, with an even more pitiful childhood." He continues. Yikes.. low blow.. Aamon clenches his fists, and you tap both of them down. "Okay. No. Aamon- this is for the Empire's sake, remember?" Your attempts were short lived as Aamon suddenly grips your hand and pulls you against his chest.

"This is personal now." Aamon tells you. Xavier's chest burns as he sees the way Aamon handles you. "Is this a good way to get on our good side, Paxley?" Xavier steps closer. You were sandwiched in between them. And fuck did it made your heart race. "It's stupid how you think I care about the Knights of Light." Aamon answers. His hand moves to hold your waist, catching you off guard. Xavier's eyes flicker towards your waist, he was furious.

"Such a bold action to do to your butler." — "Do you think I care? She's my butler." The way Aamon said that was primal; possessive. Aamon did always have a thing for anyone else interacting with his possessions but— you?? "Look around." Xavier mumbles. Both you and Aamon were reminded of the fact that you were in the dining room. Sure, no one was looking; but for what it would imply..

"You want her, and so do I." Your ears grow red when you hear this. What the fuck..! You were almost 100% sure that Xavier just wanted to get reacquainted with you. But now this just fucked up what you thought before. Xavier's gaze went to look at your face, before he looked back at Aamon. "Back at that cat litter, you took her away. You owe me at least the duration of this break to catch up with her, no?" Aamon clicks his tongue and pulls you with him. Xavier follows, and all three of you managed to get into a vacant room and locked the door.

The room you went in coincidentally had a bed, and before you could even have a say in the matter, both men had their hands all over you. Xavier was feeling your chest, and Aamon, who had surprised you a lot this entire.. situation? Began to kiss your neck. Well, kissing is too much of a light word. Aamon was biting your neck, leaving deep bite marks that won't go away for a day or two.

He licked, sucked, and did whatever things you thought he wouldn't do to you; he held your arms to your side as Xavier began to unbutton your uniform. His hands work quickly as he pulls off your bra and begins to suck on your chest. Moaning softly as he notices how shaky you've gotten over this entire thing. You gasp, both Xavier and Aamon had their mouths on you and didn't care about the marks and consequences it would cause.

"Not.. Aamon don't.." You were breathless. Trying to stop Aamon as he continues leaving marks on your neck. "It'll be seen-." — "Be a good butler and shut up." He practically growls. Xavier whined at the lack of attention, and thus pulled down your trousers. His hands pull apart your thighs as he pulls your underwear down with his teeth. The cold air makes you gasp, your head craning down to watch.

Aamon didn't like that. He didn't want you to look at Xavier. He takes your chin, turns it towards his face and kisses you deeply. Tongue and all. You squirm against his iron hold as Xavier licks at your clit. The sensation of his tongue, furiously flicking that small bud up and down made you tremble and shake. You moan against the kiss, and Aamon moans in return. Xavier lifts up your thighs and places it on his shoulders, he continues to lap at your core.

Clothes. Oh shit Xavier's clothes! He was getting it wet with all your arousal and if anyone notices-. The thought makes your head spin, and you let out a loud, yet muffled whimper. Face bucking up into Xavier's mouth as you come. Aamon pulls back from the kiss. Looking down at Xavier with a glare. Xavier didn't reciprocate, as he licks you clean and stands up, between your legs. You were being held up by Aamon, and was about to get fucked by Xavier.

Were you in heaven?? "Don't you dare put it in before me." Aamon warns. His hand loops under both your arms as the other moves down to remove his pants. Xavier was annoyed at that, but if he argued, he knows Aamon would just walk away with you, no further discussion. So he complied. Pulling his pants down a little to let his cock free. As you were distracted, Aamon guided his cock into your core and lowered you onto him.

You were caught off guard once again, and you let out a small whine of pain. "Shh.." Aamon buried his head in your neck as Xavier stepped closer to you and kissed you tenderly. Your heart, despite running a mile a minute, skipped a beat at the kiss. "I tried to find you.." He whispered. Aamon heard that. Out of jealousy, he began pumping his hips, pushing his cock and out of your pussy in a quick, but soft pace. The movement causes you to moan, and you throw your head back against Aamon's shoulder.

You couldn't see it, but Xavier was stroking his cock. His eyes were locked onto where you and Aamon were connected. He pumped his hand to the pace Aamon was holding and moaned. Aamon pulled back from your neck, seeing you were fucked out of your mind, he smirked. He then looked at Xavier, taunting him. "She's so tight. Can't fit another one in here." Aamon chuckles. Xavier stops and looks at him with a glare. "Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe." Without wasting any time, Xavier smeared his pre-cum over your clit, stimulating you even more as you whimper and cried. "Wh- what are you-" You began to stutter. Aamon pulls your face close to his, your eyes bulge out of your sockets as you feel Xavier push the tip of his cock inside of you. Aamon groaned, the tight space got tighter as Xavier bottoms out inside of you. How was that possible..?!

"Fuck.. good kitten, taking us both.." Xavier mumbles, you almost mistook it as dirty talk until you notice how fucked out he looked. He looked high. They both begin moving their hips; Xavier out—Aamon in.. the sensation, the pace, it makes you cry out in pure pleasure. They start to leave marks on your body again. As if competing to leave the most marks on you. Your hands were flailing around, you didn't even know what to hold onto as their pace began to quicken. They lost the tempo that they had and you were being stuffed— sometimes half full, and sometimes empty.

They were molding you to the shape of their cocks, and you didn't even know if you loved it or hated it. Aamon, whom you still somewhat hated but have now begun warming up to, was fucking you. And Xavier, whom you haven't met since you were a kid was rubbing your clit— wait. He was rubbing your clit!

The stimulation made you come a second time, and the moment you tightened up, they both bottomed out. Spilling their essence into you like you won't even get pregnant.

Silence filled the room, aside from the heavy breathing and the light smooching as they leave even more marks on your body. Aamon let go of you, now holding onto your waist as Xavier pulled out. Kneeling down to clean up the mess they made inside of you before standing back up. "Are you okay?" They asked at the same time. You were unresponsive.

Aamon sighed and carefully laid you down on the bed. Xavier pulls his pants back up and clears his throat. "Does she have anything else to change into?" He asks. Aamon shook his head. "We didn't bring anything else." He then looks down at you; you were now unconscious. He smiles a little and brings you to the bathroom inside the room.

Xavier went out to get some water for you. And to also find some clothes for you to wear. He didn't expect to have a threesome with you and Aamon when he had just reunited with you, but that wasn't the priority right now. The priority was to find you some clothes.

They might not be getting along now, but for you, they'll try.

#mobilelegends #mobile legends bang bang x reader #mobile legends bang bang #mobile legends aamon #mobile legends aamon x reader #aamon x reader #xavier mobile legends #aamon mobile legends #xavier x reader #mobile legends xavier x reader #mobile legends xavier #mlbb x reader smut #mlbb x reader #mlbb aamon x reader #mlbb xavier x reader #‹♪°*~Pellet's Requests~*°♪› #ml #mlbb

[dfroggofarson]

i wrote a oneshot about a hot NPC dilf. its 1600+ words. i'm really proud of myself.

when i was doing this quest, i had to come to the realization that i, in fact, do have some daddy issues. and that i have no idea of their origins, but so be it.

the more daddies for my perverted imagination, the better my day is.

if you haven't done the Golden Slumber world quest so far, i highly recommend it! it's long and sometimes annoying, but man, anything for hot dilfs (and their also hot daughters).

ok, that's all, i'm done simping. requests for other stories are open, as always.

fluff, comfort embedded. no smut for y'all horny ppl. sorry, not this time ;)

enjoy! ^^

A difference between sky and sky.

A night in the desert wasn't a joke to anyone. It was rough, cold and merciless, killing anyone that missed to take care of themselves. Most mobile creatures had already found a shelter as soon as the Sun started to dive into the treshold of the horizont, hiding itself behind the gold of endless dunes. No matter if it were just animals, people, or monsters - survival made everyone behave similarly.

That night wasn't anything different than the previous ones. You and your two companions have been traveling for two days - for the fifth time. You commisioned them yet again to escort you while you collected some redcrest and other materials from the desert for special herbs. And why not just commisson them to bring some, without you having to travel such a long and tiring journey, or just buy what you need from the mercenants? You asked yourself at least a thousand times. For example, when you almost stepped on a giant scorpion-like thing, got hit by an especially massive tumbleweed, tripped on a scarab, and even when you got into a fight and almost lost all of your dignity?

Yes, you asked yourself a lot of times.

But you only trusted yourself when it came to collencting materials. After all, only you knew what exactly you needed.

And... Maybe you just enjoyed traveling with them on a regular basis.

Because every one or two months you came to Aaru village and commissioned them for the very same reason, and there wasn't even a single time they turned you down. It started nearly a year ago, when you had no idea of who to trust and how this region works, but out of sheer luck you bumped into - literally, right to his chest - the perfect people. And ever since you only commissioned them and no one else.

So there were the three of you: a still unexperienced, clumsy alhemist's apprentice, depending too much on their deputees; an always smiling, funny and kind, but at the same time life-threatening girl; and her father, a whole natural force, like a billion-years-old mountain looking like he could even challenge Morax himself with his bare two hands.

Well, a colorful team, might as well to say, you tought to yourself as you were laying in your tent. It was a strange friendship between the three of you. You were almost best friends with Jeht, you could talk and laugh about almost everything. And even tough you never talked much with Jebrael, he had proven that he really did care about you, so you considered him as a dear friend as well.

Despite these dangerous journeys, they were the most awaited people in your whole month.

Minutes passed, then half an hour, and then a whole, and you still could not sleep. Getting bored of trying, you sat up and started to think again. But after another thirty minutes you got bored again, so you decided to do a little stargazing. It might help you fall asleep.

You put on some clothes, and opened the tent. You almost tripped in your own legs as soon as you saw the tall, threatening figure's back infront of you-

Oh, wait. It's just Jebrael. Yeah. He's in your team.

Cool.

After your heartbeat kind of went back to normal, you just stood there, studying the man's silhouette. If the muscles and scars armoring his massive body could tell you their stories, you'd probably listen to them for years long. When he fights, he does not have any spare movements, and the way he swings his weapon with such pure brutallity and unique elegance... This controversiality always left you tremble and speechless at the same time.

You snapped out of your toughts as you approached the man, not having any better idea as soon as you saw him. You were sure he's heard you, but just in case, you stepped on a drained brach to alert him of your presence. He did not turn his head towards you, and didn't say a word when you sat down next to him. You both remained silent for long minutes.

"Aren't you tired?" You asked, breaking the silence. "It's been a long day. You should take a rest, too."

"It's my turn on watch," he replied. "And Jeht is also tired. I'm fine. You should be the one taking a rest."

"But I can't sleep. I just keep thinking about everything."

"Hm," he 'said', still not moving an inch. Sometimes you wondered how a man of such a figure could act so unnoticeable and noiseless.

"For examle, the sky," you pointed at the stars. "All the orbs can be seen from there so much better than from Lyue harbor or Mondstadt. It's probably because of the light pollution, or I don't know."

"I tought you were a scientist?"

"Well... sort of, but this is not my field. I'm more into alchemistry. Or, at least, I'm trying," you laughed nervously, scratching the back of your head in embarassment. "But I'm not that good, no matter how hard I try."

"That's not true," he opposed, slightly turning his head toward you. "The ointment you gave us was really effective."

"Ah, yes. That is the only one I'm proud of," you chuckled. "And the anti-sweat bandages! I see you still use them," you smiled at him, looking at his arm.

"See, these things are useful. Just keep it up."

There was silence again. You stared at the endless black of the sky, toughts racing trough your head like a tumbleweed in the wind.

Somehotw, sitting in silence with him wasn't uncomfortable, like it was with other people. You could collect your toughts and think silently, while feeling perfectly safe.

You wanted to experience it more. Not just every one or two months.

"How much more materials do you need for the following months?" He asked suddenly.

"Well... Hmm... I need a few more redcrest, five scarabs and three more ajilenakh nuts... but I think that's all for now. But I'll think it trough the morning."

"Good. Jeht and I have to head back to the village soon, so we can collect them tomorrow and then start to take our way home," he said casually.

Like it didn't mean that your journey, your only chance to finally have some time for yourself, but be safe and with friends at the same time wasn't about to end in a few hours.

"Oh," you replied. "Okay, no problem."

"And you know, you can commission others to these trips, too. I have some reliable acquintances, so I can recommend you some of them. You don't have to aks us every single time."

Ouch.

You gulped. Did that mean that he wasn't enjoying your company? Definitely, you declared. But he seemed to be okay with it... Is there something wrong with you? Or with anything? Did you do something wrong?

Oh, silly question. Even when establishing the camp, you couldn't help properly, because the tent you tried to make always collapsed as soon as it had the chance, and it was always Jebrael who helped you fix it. You could only make some food, but that wasn't so delicious either, rather flavoured with herbs to make your companions feel better. But that didn't mean they enjoyed it as much as you did...

Were you overreacting again? Yes. But was it logical? Absolutely, for this time.

They were... he was important to you. It did matter what he said. Maybe a little bit too much.

"Right. That's true. I should probably ask someone else, too, you two must be busy as well," you laughed again, but this time much more nervously. "I'm sorry I bother you with this every month. Seriously." You nodded, holding back your tears, trying to find some excuse to leave the scenery as fast as possible. "Oh, can you feel it? It's getting so cold! I'd probably go back and, you know, try to get some rest... Good night, then!"

You quickly jumped up from the log you were sitting in, waving a quick "goodbye", then turned your back on him and walked to your tent.

How could you be so blind... Why would you think that he enjoyed spending time with you? No one enjoyed your company, that's why you didn't have any friends. You were nothing more than an ignorant little pharmacist who had no idea about the dangers and pressures of the world Jebrael lived in. He's porbably had some more important business to take care of, and you had no right to tell him to stay one more day just because-

"The... The stars. What's the difference between Lyue and here?"

You froze, slowly turning your head back to him. His head was facing the sky, hands resting on his knees relaxed.

He looked so peaceful all of a sudden.

You gulped again.

"We- well," you started, playing with your hand in embarassment, "there are so much more lamps in Lyue. It's a harbor, after all, and it's always bathing in light, so you cannot see the night sky so well..."

"Hmm. I haven't seen it in a long time," he whispered.

You turned your head to look at him. You had no idea why he was wearing, or why he had to wear that blindfold. You never asked about it. Once you tried to talk to Jeht, but she just brushed it off with an "I dunno, he never talks about it," and that was all.

Jebrael never talked about himself, not even to his daughter.

But something changed this evening.

He seemed to be more... open. To have a conversation. Even if it was just about the sky.

And he started to open himself for you.

You snapped back to reality, forgetting that you should probably carry on the talk. You made your way back to the log, sitting down next to him where you were just moments ago. It was still warm.

"Do you... want me to tell about it?" You asked silently.

For a moment, he didn't reply. Then he slighly nod.

You smiled.

Well... at least that's something to begin with.

} > -- • -- < {

The next morning, when Jebrael woke up, he found himself under a blanket - and with you leaning onto him, head on his right shoulder. He focused on the sounds surrounding him, but he couldn't hear Jeht's breathing, only yours. But when he moved his left hand, he found a short message.

'Wouldn't want to wake you two up, went to grab some branches. Not gonna be back soon. ;P'

Jebrael let out a small sigh, cautious not to wake you up, and just listened to your peaceful breathing for a few minutes.

And then he cracked a small smile.

That business in the village could wait a few days.

} > -- • -- < {

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #comfort #comfort character #genshin impact jebrael #jebrael #genshin impact jeht #jeht #golden slumber #x reader