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[s3ibro]

thinkin about simon kissing your forehead as he pumps his cum in you <33

just. the way every intense fucking ends with simon pressing a kiss on your temple before muttering a quiet praise. or how he’d keep his lips on your forehead while slowly rubbing his thumb on your clit, not really coaxing another orgasm, but just simon doing it as an act to ground you – something that makes you come down from the high of having been thoroughly fucked. but what truly breaks you out of your stupor is feeling his lips brush at the top of your head or along your temple or against the sliver of skin just by the side of your eye. his kiss is so soft and comforting; a gentle contradiction to his carnal love-making.

hhhh im gonna scream!!!

[s3ibro]

said my bnha phase was over but,,,

[s3ibro]

No no no because you don’t understand. Ghost noticing how much his size turns you on and suddenly he starts starts placing a hand on your lower back whenever he needs to get by behind you. Notices you’re having trouble reaching for something on a higher shelf and presses up behind you. Your back right up against his front, a hand gripping your hip- pulling your hips back into his as he reaches over your head to help you out. Broad, muscular, strong frame dwarfing yours- IM NOT OKAY

I think about this night and day, I don't think you understand. He helps you reach things by hoisting you up by the waist rather than just reaching and grabbing it for you. He lets you play the little "let's compare hand sizes" game and his eyes go half-lidded when you press your palm against his only for his hand to dwarf yours (the top knuckles easily curl over yours). Ghost is the type to adjust himself in public when he catches you glancing over, giving a soft little grunt meant for your ears only.

[s3ibro]

simon (ghost) riley x fem reader

!! suggestive - minors dni; soft dominance and subspace

simon loves having you in between his legs.

one time, when mactavish was able to coerce him into drinking more than he usually does, he slipped up and told the squad about his little secret. he expected the jeering and the teasing, mactavish and garrick specifically being loud to the point that simon had to call it quits and retire for the night, but they just don’t get it.

they don’t get that it’s not about the sensuality of it; it’s not just about the way it can be so easy for him to stuff your throat with his cock, and watch the way your eyes tear up until your mascara is running and leaving a wet mess on your face. sure, this leaves his blood pulsing with desire, but simon’s affinity goes beyond that.

because what he loves about it most is the way you fall into pieces at the mere position – your pretty eyes glossing over, your pouty lips parting for a soft gasp. it is like you lose track of time and reality as you settle there in between his legs, his toned thighs caging you in and grounding you.

simon chuckles, his big hand coming up to swipe your hair away from your face. you’re looking up at him, blinking blearily, your face resting on his thigh which smooshes your cheek in such an adorable way. he chuckles at your wistful sigh, batting your long lashes in satisfaction as he continues to play with your hair.

“feelin’ comfy there, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice rumbling from his throat.

“mhmm,” you reply, smiling up at him so beautifully. “missed you.”

a lump forms in his throat, the strength of his emotions choking him. he breathes in deeply, weary eyes prickling with tears, before he’s cupping your cheek.

“yeah,” simon murmurs, swiping his thumb along your jaw before he presses the pad of it past your glossed lips until it bumps into the front of your teeth. “i missed you too, love.”

you hum, a happy trill, as you give his thumb a little lick before you nuzzle your cheek onto his hand even more.

simon wonders if you even know what you do to him.

[s3ibro]

nahida’s about kaveh (and alhaitham) is basically this vine

[s3ibro]

hnghsjhdjks capitano x maid reader,,, oh god

[s3ibro]

Hallowed

capitano x f! reader

800 words

warnings/tags: not beta read, but no other warnings <3

a/n: this was the first chapter of a fic I was gonna post to ao3 but like… i lost inspiration. im sorry y’all, i think imma stick to one shots. enjoy this tho :)

The Goddess of Love is not known for her forgiveness.

Nobody thinks twice when whispers reach Zapolyarny Palace of a woman in the countryside, some nobleman’s daughter, blessed by the heavens with the power of a vision and beauty beyond compare. They do not realize that some have begun to call her goddess. They do not realize that even amidst the Fatui footsoldiers, blasphemy abounds, and secret prayers are offered behind their masks not to their Tsaritsa, but instead to the Lady Krasota, pleading for her mercy in battles to come, or her blessing in endeavors of courtship.

Sandrone is the first to see. She sees all, hears all, and realizes what it means when victory toasts are made, “To our Lady, to beauty!”

Scouts report nothing when they return from the west; all they say as they kneel before the throne is how lovely it is, how gentle the snows and how quaint the towns.

They are beheaded, right there in the throne room. Tartaglia makes a fine executioner; one need not wipe hydro blades for bloodstains.

The Tsaritsa sends Capitano, the fearsome. She sends him with a small army, and with a mission to burn away the impurity of heresy. Always, he’s been a loyal dog. Her gift to him, a delusion of Geo, sways heavily on its chain as he marches through the early-spring snow.

The whispers and the screams have led him here, this provincial capital called Rybivo.

It is a silent advance to the lord’s mansion, broken only by the snap of ice sheets beneath soldiers’ boots. Capitano need not order his troops with words. When he walks, they march perfectly in his time, left, right, left; when he stops, they stop, snapping to a perfect ready.

There is a solid sound to his knock on your door, metal gauntlet against dark walnut wood; an ax against a chopping block.

Svetla Petrovna moves to open it, but just before she can reach the doorhandle, you stop her with a hand on her shoulder. In her eyes you see it, in your chest, you feel it: Fear. Something about this isn’t right.

“(y/n), who is at the door?” One of your older sisters calls from the foyer. You do not answer, because she already knows.

“I’ll answer it, Svetla,” You tell the servant girl. Her hand does not move from the doorhandle. “Svetla?”

“I won’t let them take you,” She says in a trembling tone, “You-- you are our Lady. Our goddess. They are nothing.”

“No!” You hiss, grabbing her by the shoulders and yanking her from the door. “No, I… I have a request.”

Her eyes, fawnlike with youth, are filled with tears and terrifying devotion.

“Anything for you.”

“Run out the kitchen door, then climb the courtyard wall to avoid the soldiers. Run home as fast as you can. You are not to return to the estate for a fortnight. When you come back, go up to my bedchamber and look in my wardrobe. Inside, you’ll find a stack of papers. I want you to burn them. Can you do that for me?”

Another knock. Your mind goes blank.

“Open the door.”

The man’s voice is slightly muffled, but even through the door you can hear the low, modulated quality it carries… and the threat.

Svetla sprints down the hall towards the kitchens. As soon as she’s past the threshold and round the corner, you open the doors.

A sudden urge to run; a scream forming at the back of your throat.

“I am Capitano, fourth of the Fatui Harbingers.”

Why?

“Yes, I-- It is an honor. What brings you to this tiny village, Lord Harbinger?”

You want to squirm as he cups your jaw in his massive hand, pulling you ever so slightly closer. Through the shadow of his helm, you cannot see his eyes, but you feel them, bouring into you like needles unto flimsy fabric. You hear your pulse in your ears, and each breath gently fogs in the early spring air. At last, he pulls away; the burning sensation of freezing metal lingers.

“I’m searching for a woman. One said to be more beautiful than the gods.”

Again, you feel his eyes rather than see them as they trail down your form.

“Because,” he says slowly, “Our lady the Tsaritsa does not stand for falsities. She is Schneznaya’s sole goddess. And no mortal, no matter how alluring, may ever surpass her.”

Capitano reaches for a strand of hair that has fallen from its place behind your ear, and returns it with surprising gentleness. His voice lowers to a gruff whisper,

“I do believe I’ve found her.”

[s3ibro]

➢ capitano brainrots !

// hi welcome to my brain dump i wrote this at 12:49 am

big man. prolly something around 213 cm / 7 ft? makes him very scary to stand face to face with. the mask doesnt help, it makes him feel distant and inhuman. although, there is an allure to it as well, a mystery you are desperate to get to the bottom of, an unbreakable attraction.

capitano has a habit of watching you from afar, grateful that his mask hides the truth of his gaze. he’s quite sure you would run, full of fear and regret, if you had even the slightest idea of how he truly feels for you. is it hatred? is it carnal desire? something else entirely? what is it that draws him to you? he despises that you are a distraction from his duty as a harbinger, he cannot remember the last time he was touched beyond a battlefield, he sees you smile and he feels that this could quickly become a problem. love has never been in the cards for the harbingers </3

When you’re constantly on the warpath, what you need to stay sane is stability, and that’s what he would look for in a partner. he would like the way you always ask how his day has been, how easily you settle into routine with him, how even so far from schneznaya, he can still a home with you around.

i feel like capitano’s love language would be physical closeness, not necessarily touch, but intimate closeness nonetheless. sitting on a sofa next to him, each of you busy with different things, but still together, silent but showing each other love through the simple of act of being together. or when hes in council and you speak up. one of his advisors is quick to shut you down but capitano is there behind you, strong and cold and comforting. the advisor doesnt try it again.

imagine his hands. large and calloused from decades or perhaps centuries of war, forever scarred from close calls and duels with fearsome enemies. imagine how stunned, how flustered, even, he’d be if you showed those hands affection; if you kissed them and held them and made sure that if the man they belong to ever fell in battle, they’d know love before that moment.

how would he feel if he were forced to betray you for the fatui? what comes first, his loyalty or his lover? in the end, i think he’d chose the fatui. centuries of loyalty weighed against a few more short decades with you,,, he tries to tell himself he’s seeing the bigger picture.

imagine capitano falling in love with you at first sight during a raid on a natlan village. you, so pretty with tears running down your face, weeping as everything you’ve ever known burns. he takes a brief moment to dismount his warhorse, stares down at you in utter silence. you wait for him to swing his blade and put you out of your misery; instead, he grabs you round the waist and hauls you onto his horse, mounts behind you, and as the town burns and the wind lashes your cheeks, youre left in utter shock with no choice but to hold onto him for dear life kinda wanna write this into a full fic but I have so many wips already dhsosoheks

[s3ibro]

Capitano darling being his pen pal and poor dear has no idea of his identity

I'm very sorry, I don't know if your requests are open but I can't get enough of Capitano content.

For the Harbingers, I'm open for anything. Also, @bye-bye-sunbird, come and get him! 👀😼

Exchanging letters with your mysteries pen pal became the absolute highlight of your week. You'd pour your heart and tears into the words your hand would oh so excitedly write down, sometimes even actually crying with the sheer excitement of knowing that somewhere out there, there was a person, an actual person, who cared about you. This person cared about you, they liked you, that is why they sent you their first letter to begin with. The letter itself was short, curt and simple but that did not stop you from writing back and hurriedly giving your reply to the mysterious messenger that appeared on your doorstep one fine summer morning.

Hours upon hours would be spent constructing the letters, sometimes you'd say whatever was on your mind while on other occasions you'd stop yourself and fix your choice of words, promptly going for something much more eloquent and refined, a quality that your mysterious partner seemed to exude in spades.

Their handwriting was neat, clean and proper, you imagined they must be singing papers often if they had such pretty handwriting. You would let your curiosity sway you and there were times when you wanted to know what your dear stranger did for a living but they were oddly mysterious about their occupation, which was strange considering just how intimate and open they were about other matters such as what kind of tea they drank in the morning, general preferences and hobbies, silly things like that made you even more curious about your darling stranger. You did manage to get somewhat of an answer out of them one day though, but it was still as vague as it possibly could be.

"I feel bad about hiding things from you, but to put it in the best way I can, I work for the military. That is the best answer I can give to you at the moment."

Ah, so you were talking to a military personnel? How interesting!! Again, curiosity got the better of you and you persisted with your questions, but more careful as you fared you'd offend them. You were under the impression that your dear stranger wanted to say more to you but was holding back for whatever reason.

Months flew by, almost a year, you were done holding back yourself.

It was time for everything to come out into the light, you thought to yourself.

You wanted to meet the person who made you feel so good, you wanted to see them, him, in the flesh.

It wasn't hard to decipher that the sender was a man. The smell of sharp cologne and pine wood still lingered on the letters you kept hidden in the drawer of your desk and the strong choice of words at time were a strong indication that this man was not willing to deal with anyone's nonsense, aside from indulging himself in yours.

Under the moonlight and with a flickering candle right next to you as your only light source, you wrote to him, you wrote to him your longest letter by far. Mistaking your curiosity and infatuation with the beautiful feeling of love you proclaimed your feelings to him and boldly announced that you wished to meet him, to see him for who he was.

"When you see me, I wish for you to kiss me, kiss until I am sick of it."

Never before had he replied back with such downright monstrous speed. He sent you but a piece of paper, with just one sentence on it, blood red ink sticking in your memory as you read it out loud in the comfort of your room.

"You wish is my command."

Overjoyed would be an understatement with how you were feeling at that moment. As you danced around your room while clutching the letter tightly to your chest, you never stopped to consider just how the two of you were going to meet or how he was even going to find you, let alone kiss you breathless. Alas those worries never even crossed your starstruck mind as you eagerly awaited to be swept off your feet by your Prince Charming. Living in a fairytale is charming but it would have done you well to stay intact with the real world too.

Whispers of lingering shadows and Fatui soldiers started to plague your village, several of your neighbors constantly felt the need to remind you to keep vigilant and to lock your doors at night, do not ever trust the Fatui.

Never open the doors for anyone, never.

Looking back on it, you regret spacing out in the middle of their monologues.

The seasons had passed and winter had come, a thick layer of pure white snow decorated the earth below you as the strong wind and harsh snowflakes found their way inside of your home due to the powerful wind that was bellowing all around you. A few snowflakes even managed to lose themselves inside of your clothing and hair but their icy chill was nothing compared to the large, gloved hand that lovingly caressed your chin.

Standing in front of you was a man, a man with whom you had never crossed paths with in your whole entire life. His entire aura, his being was radiating absolute control and calm. The dozen of men behind him kept their distance but it was obvious that they were ready to charge in if need be.

What was a Fatui Harbinger doing at your doorstep?

His face was much closer to your own now and it was Impossible to read him. His entire body language was rigid and firm, it left no spaces for speculations, especially the daunting mask that he wore on his face. Aside from the few strands of ebony black hair on the sides this man revealed nothing about himself to you, cornering you not only in your own house but in your own mind too.

What was he going to do to you?

A sigh escaped him, hot air came out of his mouth as he stepped closer, his feet nearly crossing the threshold of you home.

You didn't even see that you were shaking like a leaf.

"How long do you want us to stand here in the cold, dear?"

He spoke, he said something to you but your brain hardly registered it. But his next words were something you could most definitely not ignore:

"I came here to fulfill my promise to you..."

The lower part of his mask had been removed, his pale lips on full display. They hovered over your own for a few moments.

"How about we finally share that kiss?"

Before you could even think about answering, he pressed his lips on yours, claiming them for himself as he made sure to swallow every single little sound you made.

You always dreamed of living in a fairytale, of finding your own prince. But how could you have forgotten that not all fairy tales have a happily ever after?