#is it bad that we’re both ginger

[koitosoup]

i don’t know if u guys find self insert art cringe but hyperfixation so bad i’m drawing myself with a man named captain boomerang

[ellecdc]

hi gorgeous!! I love your writings so much :)

I was wondering if u could request a poly!marauders x fem!reader who just loves baking so much and keeps leaving the boys little treats around the house depending on what each boy likes and they’re just so lovestruck for her, just like lots of fluff and them being the lover boys they are

thank you so much <3

this is so sweet! thanks for requesting, I hope you love it!! 💖

poly!marauders x fem!reader who loves to bake

James walked in to the flat and was immediately bombarded with the smell of freshly baked goods. One would think after three weeks of you living with them that he would have grown accustomed to it, but the expression on his face grew into what he could only imagine was pure, unadulterated bliss at the welcoming aroma that he could only describe as distinctly you. 

He’d hardly gotten his shoes off and hung his jacket before Pads was yanking him past the kitchen and into the living room.

“Sshh! Don’t interrupt, just watch.” Sirius stressed and he forced James to kneel on the sofa facing the window into the kitchen. James had half a mind of squawking at him but couldn’t deny the beautiful picture this painted.

“He’s been in there with her all day.” Sirius offered as James watched Remus follow you around the kitchen as if the two of you had been charmed into magnets, and he was hopelessly drawn to you. Apparently, you were either unaware of his proximity or unfazed by it. James didn’t blame you at all, though; he often felt drunk in love when Remus was paying that much attention to him too. He also felt drunk in love when watching you do anything at all. He was sort of drunk in love having Sirius’ arm wrapped around his waist right now.

James was just always drunk in love.

“What could she possibly be making now? I’ve not even finished all the apple turnover’s she made for me!” James murmured, though his concern was belittled by the raging grin spreading across his face.

“I haven’t finished the ginger snaps she made for me either, but she’s making Rem chocolate croissants.” He stage-whispered.

“Oh my gods, that sounds heavenly.” James whispered back, watching Remus make heart eyes at you as you explained something to him; the poor sod wasn’t even paying attention to the instructions. James couldn’t blame him, however, when the instructor was as pretty as you. “Think he’ll share with us?”

“Fat chance.” Remus called from kitchen, apparently privy to the whispered conversation going on in the room next to him. You looked up surprised at Remus’ interjection, apparently not having heard the dialogue.

“What?” You asked innocently, though your brows furrowed in concern – you knew better when it came to these boys. 

“Moony says he won’t share the croissants with us, dollface.” Sirius lamented, putting on his best kicked puppy impression. You seemed to melt a little bit at that, but Remus – the bastard – pressed up against you and shoved his nose in the crook of your neck, causing you to melt even more than Sirius could hope from such a distance.

“Oi – foul! Come on!” James cried at the unfair advantage Remus had.

“You boys still have your treats, don’t you?” You asked quietly, clearly more than a little embarrassed at how easily you were swayed by Remus loving-up on you. James almost felt bad about being petulant. Almost.

But not quite.

“Everything you make is so wonderful and filled with love though, angel.” He pouted. Remus groaned in exasperation, though he never bothered to peel himself off of your back.

“Fine. You sods can have some.”

James and Sirius both cheered from their spots on the couch as if they’d been watching football on the telly.

“We’re going to have to get those blood test thingies to watch our blood sugar, though.” Sirius commented.

“Worth it.” Remus and James said in unison. 

[ragnvindrgf]

i love nerdy ajax <3

☆ pairings: tutor!childe x bimbo!reader

☆ warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it fellas), creampie, reader refers to childe as ajax, not totally proofread

ajax watches as you idly flip the pages in the near 10 pound textbook on marine biology, clearly not even pretending to at least skim the pages. this was going nowhere. 

“so, uh, valentine's day is coming up. any plans?”

you roll your eyes, “valentine's Day is just a commercial scam. i don't waste my time on that lovey-dovey crap.”

“oh, well, i was just curious. anyway, let's focus on these aquatic biomes.” 

you sigh and turn to look at the ginger next to you and pause. ajax’s eyes are shifting between everything in the room, the damn textbook, the wall, the door, everything but you. you weren’t unaware of the effect you had on guys, what with your tiny tube tops, miniskirts and shiny lip glosses.  unfortunately, there was more to life than shiny and revealing clothes and you desperately needed to pass this marine bio midterm. so, you enlisted the help of ajax, the nervous mess next to you, he’s top of the class and surprisingly not at all bad looking. easily over 6 ft, lean build, bright orange hair that was messy but like in a good way, and god those gorgeous blue eyes. 

“y’know, you're cute, ajax. maybe there's more to you than just textbooks.” you rest your chin on your hand and peer at him.

“um. what?” ajax’s brain nearly short circuits at the fact that the very hot girl next to him just called him cute and to make matters worse you’re now staring at him and leaning close and- oh, you smell like flowers. and your lips are plump and pink, pursed in a thoughtful, expressive way. he wonders what they would taste like, would they taste like the strawberry flavored gloss you applied a few moments earlier? 

“i thought nerds were like, all glasses and braces and total virgin looking but you're actually pretty hot.” you smile flirtatiously, watching ajax’s cheeks pinken as he shifts in his seat. 

screw it, you're not getting anywhere with this review and god knows your pretty little head could use a break.

ajax’s eyes widen when he feels your lips crash onto his. one of your hands on his shoulder while the other rests on his knee. he was right, your lips do taste like strawberries and he can feel the sticky residue on his own lips. his own hand comes up to tentatively cup your cheek, accepting that this really was happening and leaning deeper into the kiss. 

eventually, you both need air and briefly break apart. you waste no time in removing your baby tee, shivering at the cool air hitting your bare skin. ajax stares in awe at your plush tits and hardened nipples and quickly follows in removing his own shirt. you gaze appreciatively at his toned stomach and move over to sit on his lap and latch your lips together again. this time you grind down and moan softly at the friction of your clothed cunt and his very hard bulge. ajax’s hands are gripping your waist and his head is reeling. frankly, he can't even think right now, all he knows is that his dick is practically trying to burst out of his jeans from the hot girl’s pussy on him. which you can definitely feel.

“aww, I’m flattered. looks, or should i say feels, like we’re on the same page here,” you giggle reach in between you two to undo his belt. 

“i-um,iI don't have a condom,” the ginger murmurs into your neck.

“no need for that, i’m on the pill,” you reassure him and make work of his zipper. you lean back on the desk just enough to tug his boxers down so that his cock springs out. it slaps against his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight. he’s so fucking big that you briefly wonder if it’ll even fit, you wouldn’t have thought someone like ajax was hiding something like this in his pants if you hadn’t seen it for yourself. and it’s pretty, the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, thick and flushed red at the tip. there’s a bulging vein running along the side that’s begging for your tongue to run over it. 

ajax squirms anxiously under your eyes, “is it…okay?”

“ ‘okay’? ajax, i can't believe you’ve been hiding this from me,” you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips, “i definitely need you in me now,” and with that you're standing up and removing the rest of your clothing. ajax watches with hooded eyes as you pull down your tiny shorts and your panties with them. even from your frontside he can see how plump your ass is. 

and then you’re guiding his cock in between your folds, slowly sinking down and wincing from the stretch. ajax’s hands wander and squeeze your ass, gripping it so hard you’re sure it’ll leave red marks. but it's worth it with the way ajax sounds and looks so good under you. his head is thrown back with a loud groan falling out his lips. with the way you’re bouncing on his cock and squeezing around him so deliciously, he’s not sure he’ll last very long. his tip is hitting up into your cervix repeatedly, making you whimper sweetly. 

“fuck— you feel so good,” Ajax gasps in between his own moans, you laugh breathily, you could say the same thing.

his brows furrowed together as he feels a familiar coil in his stomach beginning to tighten, “i’m gonna- you should get off before i- fuck,” his hot cum spurts deep inside you before you can even tell him that no, there's no way you're going to let this man pull out of you. instead, you moan at the feel of his cock twitching inside of you as your own orgasm washes over you. you sink down on him one last time before your cunt’s squeezing around him and you're crying his name into the air. 

your legs are shaky when you try to stand up, his cock slipping out with ease and a blend of his and your cum starting to leak down your thighs. ajax stuffs his dick back in his pants when you move to grab your shirt, ignoring the uncomfortable gooey mess. 

and he surprises you when he stands and grabs your hand and pulls you back in for a kiss. It’s sweet and gentle and you’re both smiling. “um, thanks, i think,” He grins sheepishly against your lips. 

your eyes widen at such simple words, no guy has ever kissed you after sex, much less thanked you, they just used you as a method to get their dick wet.

taking Ajax’s face in your hands, you lean in to connect your lips one more time, lips moving in sync before breaking the kiss with a smile.

“thank you, you just made learning about fish a whole lot more interesting.” you giggle as realization flashes over ajax’s face when he notices the abandoned study materials on the desk. he chuckles and shakes his head, “not like you were doing much before i guess.”

“that’s true,” you smooth your hands over your clothes when an idea pops in your head, “but, we still have time until my test… maybe we can get together again wednesday night?”

ajax looks over your cute, hopeful face, “wednesday.. like valentines?”

you shrug nonchalantly, trying to suppress the butterflies in your stomach, like i said, just another day.”

[stickymolasses]

omgg if you’re comfortable, can you write about reader calling harry “theo” after his middle name? i feel like he would blush so bad, his face would be all red 😊

MY THEO

an: hello anon! this is such a sweet ask, i'm giggling and kicking my feet omg. it’s christmas day for me, happy holidays to all! i hope we’re all eating good food and spending time with family and friends. <3 

summary: You and Harry are resting in your bed and you call him a nickname he hasn't heard in a while. pairing: harry osborn x reader warnings: making out, cringe <:

The evening ushered in a tranquility that had eluded both you and Harry for quite some time.

A slight crack in the small window above your bed allowed a gentle breeze to permeate the room. While many might argue that the air in New York City carried a sharp and unpleasant scent, it smelled of new beginnings to you. Describing your life in the city proved to be an indescribable experience. 

You gaze up at Harry, lying on your bed. He looks like a dream, his eyes half-closed and glazed with the allure of sleep. Your right hand rests on his bare chest, while the other is delicately woven through his. 

His ginger hair is slightly overgrown, falling over his forehead haphazardly. He hadn’t been able to get a haircut lately; the holidays were approaching, and his barber was packed with appointments. You’ve been trimming his hair for him, but you're afraid to go too short—God forbid you ruin his beautiful hair. He couldn’t care less about his hair's appearance, though, as long as you're running your hands through it gently.

You swipe your hand over his forehead to smooth out his unruly hair, allowing you to see his eyes more clearly. His green ones flutter towards your own and rest there.

The two of you pause for a moment. The city is surprisingly quiet, with no traffic or drunk college students, just the two of you breathing in time with the wind outside your window. Your chests rise and fall together.

“What do you think you would be doing right now if we hadn’t met each other?” You speak, breaking through the silence you had accumulated. Harry moves a piece of hair behind your ear and lets his hand linger on your face for a while.

“I’d probably be in my own bed at home, dreaming of being here instead,” he smirks.

You scoff and let out a small chuckle, “But you wouldn’t know I exist! How could you possibly dream of me?”

“I’m sure I’d find a way,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Well, I think I would be at the movies.” Harry laughs at your answer, a real laugh, from the bottom of his chest. The sound of his happiness always makes you feel warmth in your chest.

“What’s so funny?” You sit up on your knees, looking down at him, still laughing. His laughter is contagious, and you join him in his fit. 

“Just you, always so sure of yourself. If you told me you were born with vampire fangs and blue skin, I would have no choice but to believe you.”

“Well, it’s just one of my many charms.” Harry laughs again, swiftly pulling you back down to lie with him. You wonder how he’s gotten so strong over the past couple of months.

He pulls you into a warm kiss, slowly trailing down to your neck and lingering there for a moment. You feel his breathing below your ear, and it elicits a shiver to run down your spine.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He says your name, dripping with want. It causes you to let out a gentle moan. 

You suck in a sharp breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Of course you can.”

He smiles wide and kisses you again, this time harder and needier. He bites your bottom lip, and you gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

You part to allow yourselves a moment to breathe. There is barely any space between the two of you, the gap between your lips just enough to speak in a whisper.

“Anything for my Theo…”

Harry blushes a red you have never seen before; it may not even exist on the color wheel. He swiftly buries his head into your neck and groans, embarrassed.

“Nobody has called me that since the third grade.” It comes out muffled, barely audible, but you heard it.

“But it’s so cute!”

“Who names anyone Theopolis anyway? What was my dad thinking…” He separates himself from you and flops on your bed, placing a pillow over his face.

“I think it’s a beautiful name. Very regal, like a knight.” You lean down and remove his pillow-shield, kissing his nose.

“A knight… Your knight in shining armor.” His blush fades, and his smile returns.

You fake a sigh and shake your head, “What am I going to do with you, Theo?”

Harry groans again, much louder this time, and swiftly launches a pillow at you.

“I am never going to stop calling you that.”

an: i wrote this pretty quickly so pls forgive me if it's shit lol. i had fun writing this, though. let me know if i have any errors or anything inconsistent that you notice. i fear i may be the only one still writing harry osborn ps5 x readers LMFAO. let me know if your interested in me writing for any other characters. i can write any spiderman character (age appropriate, of course) and pretty much any marvel character. i am not a huge mcu fan, but i will write for loki if anyone is interested in that. anyways, long author's note sorryyyyyyy! happy reading!

[ficmashup]

Caretaker

A/N: I should probably put summaries on these, but I'm terrible at brevity. Clearly. But wow some people actually like this and I'm blushing and kicking my feet. :) Thanks for interacting! Sorry this one is a bit more team-based than Price-based, but honestly the way to that man's heart is through his men. He's such a dad and I love him for it.

Warnings: Vague SA references or similar trauma, stabbing, harsh language, f!reader, talk of being shot, wound care.

Word Count: 3.8k

Feral Masterlist

What really puts the team and I’s tenuous connection to the test is when Soap gets stabbed.

We’re two months in. I’m just a soldier and medic today, on the ground with the rest of the group as we clear a warehouse storing some enemy supplies that we’re…appropriating. My focus is razor sharp, easily directing my hyperactive fight or flight instinct into looking around every corner and keeping a sharp ear out for any noise. Soap and Ghost are on the other side of the building doing the same, Price pulling up the rear.

Gaz and I both hear the scuffle and stop in our tracks before Ghost’s voice comes over coms. “Soap’s hit. Eastern corner.” We start moving immediately and I slide my gun wrapped around my body to my back as we reach them, the boys already forming a circle around Soap as they watch his back. I’m on my knees at his side the second I reach him, my hand pushing down hard on his thigh as I take in the handle sticking out just above his hip.

His body is held taut and his jaw is locked, clearly trying to stay quiet and still. “Alright, Soap, I’ve got you.” I murmur while Price gives orders to the boys. Gaz and him split up, more than likely going to clear the rest of the building while Ghost stays in the shadows next to me to watch our backs.

Soap grunts. “Good to know, G.”

I guide his hand to my knee and press it there so he can squeeze when the pain gets too bad. It helps my patient and gives me a good indicator of their pain levels. My fingers are ginger as I rip his shirt a bit more, moving it and his tac vest up enough to see the wound. “Didn’t hit anything vital, you lucky bastard. I can patch you up here, then treat this properly at camp.” I’m already doing it as I tell him, my med-kit open on the concrete floor beside me. I gather two pills in my hand and reach up, tilting his chin to look at me. “Swallow.” His eyes widen a touch and he lets me slip the pills past his lips before his throat flexes as he swallows. “Good. Those will kick in and take away some of the pain on the walk back, but I can’t wait until then. So, I need you hold onto me because this’ll hurt like a bitch.”

I hold his gaze, making sure he knows I mean it and he nods. With gauze packed around the blade, I yank it out without hesitation and Soap chokes. “Fuck.” He curses and his fists clench, his fingers digging into my thigh while I move quickly to staunch the blood flow. Price and Gaz return, nodding to Ghost to give the all clear. The warehouse is empty except for us.

“And here I was thinking Scots were more creative with their cursing.” I goad him a bit to distract him and he huffs a laugh.

“If you wanted me to teach you curses, lass, you should have asked.”

“Think I just did. You going to disappoint a girl?”

Another dry chuckle leaves him and I glance at his face to see a crooked smile despite the pain. “Ah, well, awa’ n bile yer heid is Ghost’s favorite. Means go fuck yourself.” The aforementioned soldier grumbles as he slides through the shadows to settle a few feet from Soap’s head.

“Shouldn’t have gotten him started. Now he won’t shut up.” Gaz comments good-naturedly from my left, he and Price watching as I work. That’s exactly my plan. If Soap’s talking, he’s not thinking about the pain.

“Definitely seems like Ghost’s favorite. Does he hear it often?” I’m nearly done now as I make sure the bandages are as tight as I can safely make them while holding Soap’s gaze again, drawing his attention with a direct look.

He takes a sharp breath, but grins through the pain. “Often enough, eh, LT?” He teases while glancing towards the Lieutenant.

Ghost doesn’t budge from where he watches us. “Couldn’t say. I only pay attention when you speak English.” Soap chuckles at that before I rest a hand on his shoulder and glance at Ghost, tilting my head to his other side. He moves there instantly while I look into Johnny’s eyes again.

“Time to get up. Lean on us and remember that the meds will kick in. Just keep moving for me, yeah?” My voice is calm and firm. I ease him up into a sitting position while he grimaces, but nods. Ghost and I share a look as we move simultaneously to get Soap up onto his feet. He groans and I brace a hand against his bindings to make sure they hold fast. As soon as I meet Price’s eyes, he nods and we start moving out.

Gaz moves towards me to take Soap, but I give him a sharp look. I’m the medic, the sick and injured are my responsibility. I keep Soap’s arm around my shoulders and push ahead with Ghost on his other side. The whole time I keep him talking quietly, distracting him and verbally poking him to keep his mind occupied. A single mention of his favorite football team sends him on a rant for five minutes straight and I don’t think I mistake seeing Ghost’s mask twitch as he smiles.

Gaz and Price are quiet as we make slow progress forward, letting me do my work, but I feel their eyes on us every now and then. Especially on me. Things go a bit easier when the pain pills I gave him kick in and Soap is practically back to himself by the time we get back to camp. Ghost helps me lay him down while everyone else packs up. We were planning to leave tomorrow, but tonight serves just as well.

Gingerly, I help Soap out of his tac vest and shirt before taking a proper look at the wound. “How’s the pain, soldier?” I set his hand on my knee again as I check to see how much blood has seeped into the gauze.

“Three. Barely twinges.” He responds and I give him a critical look as his grip on my leg tightens just a touch as I check my work. But I don’t call him out on it.

“It’s not too bad.” I tell him honestly as I remove the bandages, taking special care to clean the wound this time even as Soap winces. “As long as it’s kept clean and the dressing changed often, you’ll heal in no time. Hope you don’t mind my company because you’ll be seeing a lot of me for a while.”

He shakes his head, a little smile on his face. “Wouldn’t mind it a bit, G, but I can look after myself.”

“Not a chance.” My voice is firm and I make sure to stare into his eyes, placing a hand with blood smeared over my fingers on his shoulder. “That might’ve been how you did it before, but I’m your medic now. No one touches these bandages other than me. Especially not you. Understood, soldier?”

He swallows, then his smile grows as he gives me a nod. “Yes, ma’am.” I nod in return and finish wrapping the wound again while his eyelids droop. “Thanks, lass.” My hand lightly pats his shoulder before I lay his shirt over his chest while I stand.

“Sleep. Move a muscle and I’ll have you strapped to the inside of the car.” He hums his acknowledgement while I stand up and walk over to the men lingering around the back of our jeep. “He’ll be fine. It’s not too deep and didn’t hit anything that’ll cause problems later. We can move out whenever we’re ready.”

Price nods. “Let’s head out then. The sooner, the better.” He receives a chorus of acceptance from me and the others. I’m quick to pack up and slide my bag in the back along with the others before we get Soap in the jeep. Price drives, Ghost sits in the passenger seat, then Gaz and Soap sit on either side of me in the back.

“How are we doing, Soap?” I ask softly as we drive across the landscape, not exactly keeping to roads and worn paths.

He grunts with a hand braced against the wound. “Really enjoying the bumps, Cap.”

“We’ll reach a road in a few minutes. Stick it out, Johnny.” Price responds and Soap curses as he hits a particularly deep crater. My hand moves Soap’s to my knee again, holding it there as a touchstone. I’d rather not give him any more pain pills to avoid him getting drowsy, but I don’t want him incapacitated with pain. Keeping his hand there will help me know if he can handle it.

“This can’t be the worst you’ve had, Soap.” I poke a bit of fun at him and he half-smiles, scoffing.

“Not a chance. Being shot in the leg was a fucking bitch.” He shakes his head before leaning it back against the headrest. His eyes slide to mine. “What about you, G? What’s your worst?” I blink, hesitating as I consider the question. Price hits another bump and Soap hisses while Gaz tries to hide a chuckle as a cough. “You fuckin’ aiming for them, Cap?” His accent gets a bit thicker and I glance up at the rearview mirror to find Price’s eyes already on me. I shake my head slightly. Soap’s question is fine.

“Depends on what you consider worst. The most painful or the one that left me the most fucked up?” I offer and interest flashes in Soap’s eyes. I’ve got him distracted, at least. “I got shot in the left shoulder, then had to fend off an assailant in hand to hand. Worked the bullet deeper into my muscle since it wasn’t clean through. Took forever to heal and it’s a miracle I still have full movement. Couldn’t raise my arm above my shoulder for months.” The men nod or grimace, understanding and easily relating.

“Thought I was going to go stir crazy every time I’ve been put on bed rest.” Soap grumbles and I don’t bother telling him that he’s going to be on bed rest as soon as we get back to base.

“That’s because you can’t stay still for five minutes.” Gaz teases and Soap gives him a grin and a half-shrug to say he’s not wrong.

“Drives most medics crazy. Hope you’re up for it, G.” Ghost comments from the front and I look pointedly towards Soap.

“He’s not going to be difficult for me, are you, Johnny?” I ask expectantly and he shakes his head immediately. The men chuckle while I glance at Price in the mirror and fight a smile of my own. There’s a new edge in his eyes, a soft one, and I find that I like seeing it there.

Gaz shifts in place, a grin on his face as he stares at Soap. “You’ve already got him purring like a cat, G. What were in those pills you gave him?”

“Shut it, Gaz. You heard her threaten that guy in the bar. I’m trying to keep my balls where they are.” The car rumbles with laughter again, mine included, although it’s too quiet for anyone else to hear. We finally reach a dirt road and the ride becomes a fraction easier. Soap eventually falls asleep while I watch over him, my hand still on top of his where it sits on my thigh.

*     *     *

After a brief argument when we get on base, I force Soap into the med tent to stay overnight for observation. There’s a nagging feeling in my gut. I wait for him to finish taking a shower after I carefully wrapped the bandages so they wouldn’t get wet. He quirks a brow when he finds me waiting for him and I wave him into bed so I can take a look at the wound one last time before everyone turns in.

“This isn’t my first, you know.” He quips as he lets me check it again.

I give him a placating look. “After so long in the business, you learn to trust your gut. Better to be paranoid and wrong than careless and miss something that kills you.” That shuts him up promptly and my lips press together as I look at the wound. It looks a little red, almost inflamed. I replace the bandages before digging through a cabinet nearby, then come back with a bottle of water and pills. “Antibiotics, just to be safe. If there was something on the blade and it’s infected, then you’ll probably get a fever in the night. It’ll get worse from there depending on the infection.”

He takes the pills and swallows them, blinking at my words before remarking sarcastically, “Great.”

I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here. After I head to my room for a bit, I’ll come back with food and you’ll be stuck with me for the night so I can keep an eye on you.”

Amusement creeps back into his eyes as he sits up a little in bed. “They do have people here whose job it is to stay the night. I know you’re just as worn out as I am after the mission.”

I toss the bed’s blankets up over his legs with a firm look telling him to stay put. “Pretty sure I already told you that the only one touching those bandages is me.”

He hums, his smile widening a bit. “You know, I like this possessive side to you, G.”

“Uh-huh. You’ll like it even more when I zip-tie you to the bed if you don’t do everything I say.” I return sweetly and he swallows as I pat his foot, then head to the door. Surprise flits across my face as I see Price waiting for me and I walk over, stopping beside him and turning to look at Soap just like he is.

“Not being too obstinate, is he?” Price asks and he keeps his voice lower than usual while nurses file in and out of the tent while they take care of their own charges.

I heave a breath, but shake my head. “He’s been a good patient so far, but we both know restlessness settles in a little later.” He nods with the corner of his mouth lifting. I hesitate a moment before leaning a shoulder against the wall behind us and turning my body towards him. “My gut is telling me that it’s infected.”

Price turns towards me as well and his expression turns serious. He’s been in this business longer than me and he strikes me as the kind of man who doesn’t disregard his gut either. “Plan of action?”

My eyes cut to Soap idly tying knots with a lace pulled free from one of his boots. “I’m leaving him to have some time alone. We won’t know whether I’m right or not until late into the night, anyway. I’ll come back in an hour or two and keep an eye on him.”

He nods, pressing his lips together before he looks at me. “Alright. Keep me updated if he takes a turn for the worse. And don’t neglect yourself either.” Price gives me a pointed look that I respond to with a small smile. It’s getting a little easier to give those out, recently.

“Understood, Captain. I plan on spending an hour in the shower.” I get him to smile too as I salute him playfully, then head out to my room.

*     *     *

I keep my promise. Well, mostly. I spend a long time in the shower, then change into a tank-top and comfortable pants. My skin is still hot from my shower and I cool off a bit as I walk to the mess hall and get some food as promised before heading back to the med-tents. Soap shoves every morsel of food I give to him into his mouth and I shake my head while eating my own a tad slower. He crashes soon after and I take the time to set everything I might need on the small table next to the bed.

After that, the only thing to do is wait. I curl up in the chair next to him and get as comfortable as I can in the uncomfortable chair. There are one or two other nurses that mill around, but otherwise it’s quiet. Eventually, I find myself falling asleep. I’ve slept in worse places in my military career. I’m still on the cusp of sleep when I feel something settling over me. My eyes flash open and I look up in an instant to see the culprit. His hands freeze and his eyes widen as I find Ghost draping his jacket over me.

I sigh in relief and relax back into the chair, my eyes shutting a moment as my heart thunders in my chest. “Ghost.” I greet him with a scratchy voice before looking towards Soap and moving to get up. “Everything okay?” He puts a hand on my shoulder to hold me in place.

“Everything’s fine. Just came to check on the stubborn bastard to make sure he wasn’t causin’ too much trouble.” He says quietly, his voice gruff and low. “Didn’t expect you to be here, G.”

I relax back into my chair with his jacket tucked snug around me. “I’m here for the duration. Just to make sure everything goes okay.”

His brows furrow. His usual skull mask is gone to leave only the black fabric he wears under it. It’s nice seeing more of his face even if the skin around his eyes is still painted black. “You expectin’ something to go wrong?”

I shrug a shoulder. “It’s just a precaution. A gut feeling.” My lips purse as I look at Soap, slack-jawed and snoring softly. “It could be infected. Or I could be paranoid.” I sigh again as I lean my head back against the chair and Ghost’s mask twitches.

“Either way, thanks for looking out for him.” Ghost crosses his arms and leans a hip against the end of Soap’s bed.

I raise a brow at him. “It’s my job.”

“No.” Ghost shakes his head, eyes crinkling just a touch as I think he smiles again. “This is going above and beyond your job, G. And I’m grateful. So’s everyone else on the team.” I blink as I take in the compliment and his jacket tucked around me. It’s sweet. Terribly sweet.

“I’m glad to do it, Ghost. You all have been pretty welcoming and I know I don’t come off the warmest, but I appreciate it.” Discomfort swirls in my chest at admitting it, but he took a risk thanking me. I can return the favor. “You’re my team.” It’s a claim and a promise. I’ll be loyal, dedicated, treat them like family, as long as they’re just as loyal to me.

Ghost nods, seeing this and understanding. He understands more than the others, if I had to guess. “And we’ve got you just as much as you’ve got us, G. Even if it takes a while for you to see that.” I smile as I pull his jacket a bit closer around me. I’m coming around to the idea.

*     *     *

I fall back asleep after Ghost leaves, but not for long.

Soap’s peaceful snores fade and I wake up when I hear a grunt to find him half-sitting up with his blankets tossed off. He gives me a weak smile when he sees my eyes open. “Sorry, lass. Afraid I’m not feeling great.” I lay Ghost’s jacket over the back of my chair and I’m up in an instant. My hands smooth over his cheek, then his forehead.

“Your skin is hot.” I murmur, knowing he has a fever.

He huffs a soft laugh. “Always knew I was hot.” The corner of my mouth lifts as I help him sit up a bit more and take his sweat-soaked shirt off, then wipe away the sheen covering his chest, back, and forehead.

“It’s going to be a rough night for you, Johnny, but the only way through it is straight.” I set the small towel aside before gently pushing him back down to lay on the bed. Next, I grab two other washcloths I have set aside and head over to the sink to soak them before coming back.

“You certainly don’t sugarcoat things, G.” He chuckles as I lay one cold cloth over his bare chest, then fold the other as I pat his face with it before laying it over his forehead.

“You want me to tell you pretty lies?” I ask softly, aware of the few other patients still sleeping around the room.

His head shakes. “Never said I didn’t like it, lass. Think it’s refreshing.” He takes a deep breath and I rub the cool cloth over his chest before wetting it in cool water again and returning it. “Reminds me a little of Ghost.”

“Oh yeah?” There’s a little surprise in my voice, but I suppose I was just thinking that Ghost understood me more than the others. “He was here earlier to check on you. Based on what he and Price said, I expected a little more resistance from you.” I reach up and flip the washcloth on his forehead so the cool side is against his skin.

He gives me a crooked grin despite the fever, pain, and exhaustion I’m sure he’s feeling. “I’m a sucker for a gentle touch, lass. And I’m a little bit afraid of you.” I chuckle and his eyes light up a little. “Am I delirious or was that a laugh? Can’t wait to tell Gaz I got you to crack first.”

“It was barely a laugh. Hardly counts.” I tease and his eyelids get a little heavy. “Sleep if you can, Johnny. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

He hums in lieu of a laugh. “Good thing I’m not tryin’ then. In fact, think someone would have to pry you out of the team’s cold, dead hands to get you away from us now.” His eyes fall shut as he speaks and I keep gently dabbing his face with the cold washcloth. I let the words sink into me along with Ghost’s earlier, feeling them tether me to the team and the men that create it. But it doesn’t feel like a weight. It feels like a life preserver, buoying me over the waves I’ve been fighting against for a while now. Finally, I take a breath without worrying about whether I’ll take on water.

“Yeah,” I whisper, resting my hand on the cloth on his chest to feel his heart. “I’m getting pretty fond of you all too.”

Taglist (oh my gosh, hi people! Thanks for wanting to be tagged, I love you. Hope you enjoy. If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas

[dinoshimaaa]

Cabo

You and Ajax make dinner at nine PM together. (fluff, modern au)

masterpost - sher's bday

tag: @souglias

(this is a repost of an older work that didn't make it in tags lol)

-

You register the warmth around you when you open your eyes, finding it to be both familiar and expected. The man squished between you and the backrest of the couch is still fast asleep, soft snoring in your ears slowly falling into the same rhythm as your heartbeat. Romeo, the orange tabby (and the undoubted king of the household) stays curled up between you and Ajax, but his eyes blink periodically, having woken up just before you did.

The phone reveals the time to be six in the evening when you extend your arm to check it. Turning back towards Ajax, you lightly pat his chest, “Wake up. We need to prepare dinner soon.”

“Mmh,” his chest rumbles, and his hold around your waist tightens. “Not now.”

“I’m hungry.”

Ajax’s eyes open. He stares at you for a second. Then he smiles and closes his eyes again. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you sigh and it comes out as laughter.

“Go back to sleep,” he shifts his head down, nose pressing into your neck. “We have all the time in the world.”

“Romeo might be hungry, though.” As if to prove you wrong, the orange tabby jumps down from the couch and nonchalantly pads towards the bedroom, possibly to hop on your bed and mess up the sheets before bedtime. The two of you watch him as he does so, and once he is out of sight, you face each other again. “Or maybe not.”

“See? No one to worry about,” he hums and gently pulls your head beneath his cheek. “Stay.”

You obey. Sleep catches you in its grasp once again, and the next time you wake up it is past nine. Your stomach is definitely growling by then, and Romeo is also pawing at the couch, upset that he has yet to receive his feast (canned tuna) for the night.

Ajax reluctantly joins you in the kitchen minutes after you pull out of his slackened grip. Wordlessly, he grabs the chopping board, but stills when he sees the instant ramen cups in your hands.

“It’s late,” you answer to his disapproving glance, “I don’t know about you, Gordon Ramsey, but I’d rather settle for a quick meal tonight than a full course meal I have to wait an hour for.”

“It’s bad for your health,” he walks over and presses his lips to your hair, “I literally cook quality meals for you for free. Do you have any idea how much Kaeya pays me to do that for him?”

You shrug. “You can do that tomorrow. I’m hungry now.”

Ajax grumbles and places the cutting board back to where it was. Then, he takes the ramen cups from your hands and pours just-boiled water into them in your stead. When he’s done, he sits next to you on the kitchen island and the both of you stare at the ramen cups.

“Romeo hasn’t eaten,” you break the comfortable silence. “Get the tuna for him.”

“Let’s get married.” Ajax replies. You turn to him with a deadpan look.

“We’re already as domestic as we can be,” he smiles and tilts his head. “We sleep in the same bed and house, I cook and clean for you, and you repay me with kisses and cuddles. Getting married won’t make a difference.”

“Romeo still hasn’t eaten.”

“I’m being serious,” his voice drops to a whisper now, and his eyes drop to your left hand. You are very aware of the heavy gaze on the empty fourth finger. “There’s no one else I’d rather wake up from a nap at nine PM and cook bland instant ramen and neglect our hungry cat because we were too busy bickering in the kitchen over dinner choices… with.”

The fatigue has gotten up to him, you think. You blame his abrupt decision on the sleep-lidded eyes and tousled ginger hair and his unsound mind still filled with fantasies from his slumber. You want to scold him about how important of a decision marriage is and why he shouldn’t carelessly throw the word around like he’s suggesting a movie night. You want to smack him head from the back for joking around and getting your hopes high for a split second.

And yet Ajax is never one to make hasty decisions with zero thought. Shyly, his eyes flit up to meet yours and the sincerity in them makes your heart skip a beat.

“I’ll buy you a ring.” he nervously adds, which is uncharacteristic of him. “Soon. I’ll buy your dream dress, book your dream location, and give you your dream wedding. All you have to do is say yes.”

He doesn’t need to prove himself with material worths, and you want to let him know that. You love him just as much as he loves you and possibly way more. Shifting your hand to link with his and squeeze it, you watch the way his eyes soften.

Ajax caresses your left ring finger. You give him the answer he is waiting for.

“Feed Romeo the tuna,” you answer, with all honesty, “And I’ll say yes.”

Your orange tabby has never had a better dinner before today.

[preciouslandmermaid]

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - bonus post-epilogue chapter

Note:  I randomly wanted to write a wedding, but I don't actually include the ceremony, so this is more like a "pre-wedding/post-wedding" story if we're being honest ! Also it takes place about 2 years after the epilogue :)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language/Sexual Content).

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)    

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

Sydney held the wooden spoon toward you and the scent of the honey and ginger glaze tickled your nostrils. Earlier in the afternoon, she rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater to her elbows and the beaded bracelet (a gift from Richie’s daughter, Eva) slid partway down her wrist.

“Alright, it’s your entree. You get to try it first.”

“I thought that was the chef’s honor?”

“Yeah, well, you’re the bride so…” she trailed off, shrugging. “I think that superimposes chef’s honor.”

You smiled and raised both eyebrows at Syd. She didn’t have to help, especially considering how busy The Bear is nowadays, but she offered and you gratefully accepted. Wedding planning – as it turned out – was a stressful affair. You and Carmy had your location set, but the guest list, wedding registry, and menu were woefully incomplete. You tangled yourselves into knots over the planning, but the goal remained firm in your mind; a celebration with Carmy and your friends mixed with the legality of marriage. You would overcome any hurdles you needed to cross because all of it would be worth it in the end.

Wordlessly, you closed your mouth over the spoon. Your lips puckered and your tongue recoiled to the safety of your back molars.

“Oh, oh shit,” Sydney said emphatically, “you hate it.”

“N-no!” You coughed, swallowing, and grabbing your glass of water. “The acidity is just a little...strong. It needs to be adjusted, that’s all.”

“Fuck,” she said, slapping her palm on the wooden countertop. “Okay – uh – that’s okay. We can – I can totally fix this. No biggie.” When she tasted the glaze, her expression pinched before she stuck out her tongue and gagged. “Yeah, nope.” She released a forced, short laugh. “There’s no saving that one.”

You loved Syd’s earnest, anxious awkwardness. Her blunt nature had been the first foundational stone of your friendship. You liked that she didn’t let Carmy off the hook, regardless of his experience and talent, and their partnership was an integral component to the Bear’s continued success.

“Back to the drawing board,” you said, drumming your fingers on the countertop. “Maybe ginger is too sharp? Do we lean more savory?”

“Interesting idea coming from the baker,” she teased.

“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and infused your tone with as much indignation as you could. “Just because I run a bakery doesn’t mean I have a sweet tooth.”

Syd laughed. “There is literally a bowl of candy by the entryway.”

“It’s for Halloween.” You crossed your arms and said, “There are a ton of families in this building.” In truth, your lack of nicotine intake after quitting smoking had manifested into a ravenous sweet tooth and, the lollipops – although bad for your teeth – were monumentally healthier than cigarettes.

“Dude, Halloween is seven months away.”

“We’re prepared.”

“What for like kids who don’t know how to like tell time and show up a few months early?”

“Obviously.”

She finished scraping the glaze into the trash. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Her bright smile faded and the light entered her dark eyes. You recognized it as her ‘I have an idea face’ and your mood lifted—the overly sour glaze quickly forgotten. When Carmy said he wanted The Bear to cater your wedding, you had been shocked, and concerned about the additional stress it would add to your lives. However, with Syd in your kitchen, the pan gripped in her hand and her expression rapt with wonder, you realized that you had nothing to worry about. The wedding’s menu and food preparation were in the best hands.

“Do you have any soy sauce?” she asked, “Worcestershire sauce will work too, or liquid aminos if we’re desperate.”

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

Carmy watched as your fingers held aloft over the keyboard and the spreadsheet glared menacingly in a harsh blue-white glow. The guest list had been easy to start. The obvious ones were Syd, Natalie, Peter, Richie and Eva, and your best friend, Taylor. The harder choices were family and how to arrange the tables. Your eyebrows angled in confusion and you drew your hands away.

“I’m not inviting my dad,” you said after a moment’s pause.

Carmy nodded. “Okay.”

His neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t the flushed heat that arrived when he felt embarrassed. No. This discomfort traveled from his neck to his fingers. It raked across his skin like a thousand needles, pricking every nerve, and drawing blood. He thought about going to his coat pocket and withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The quick, cold rush of nicotine would ease his headache and calm his nerves. But, if he smoked, then he’d need to walk downstairs and into the blustery sharp gray wind of March. And he didn’t want to bail on you. The puzzle of who to invite and who to sit with whom was a project for the both of you to untangle.

“I dunno if I should…” He cleared his throat and looked away when your eyes met his over the laptop screen. “I dunno.”

“Your mom?” you correctly guessed.

Carmy sniffed, scratched the side of his nose, and nodded. His heart thumped into his ribs. Maybe he should take a walk. Maybe the March air would clear this dreadful feeling from his skull. His stomach hardened into a pit at the idea of his mom coming to his wedding. But, at the same time, his dread and fear congealed into a sharp guilt that curdled his stomach acid. His mom was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of a woman. He loved her. He didn’t know if he wanted her at the wedding. He knew she’d be upset if she weren’t invited. But, both of you decided to keep the guest list small. The careful cuts were necessary, and not just due to the frugality aspect, but in terms of everyone’s enjoyment.

“She’d make it about her,” he said, “remember Sophia’s second birthday?”

You placed your hand on the middle of Carmy’s back, right between his tense shoulder blades, and he forced a harsh exhale through his teeth. They almost called the police, Carmy thought with a frown. His mom showed up and seemed fine, and then shortly before cake and presents, she buckled little Sophia into her car and claimed that Natalie hated her and didn’t want Sophia to have a relationship with her grandmother. His niece, at the age when separation anxiety often occurred, cried so much that she threw up on her special birthday dress.

“I do,” you said and your eyes softened.

“I’m a terrible son,” Carmy said, “I’m a fucking asshole. We have to invite her, don’t we? She deserves to be there.”

“Carmy, you’re not.” You rubbed his back. “Do you think I’m an asshole for not inviting my dad?”

He quickly said, “No.” The pit in his stomach gnawed at his smoke-deprived lungs. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“He has another family.” Carmy stood, raking his hand through his hair. “My mom only has Nat and me.”

“So you have to sacrifice your happiness and comfort for hers?”

“Yes!” he said immediately followed by a quick, “No. I don’t know.” He reached into his coat pocket hanging by the door and fished out the squashed packet of cigarettes.

You trailed after him and wound your arms around him, pressing your face into his back, your hands coming to rest over his heart. Carmy froze. The pressure of your hands on his chest made him realize how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed the cigarette packet and it crinkled beneath his clammy fingers.

“Remind me,” you said, voice faintly muffled by his t-shirt, “what was the possible diagnosis your therapist gave her?”

“Borderline personality disorder.” His therapist also said his mom could have narcissistic personality disorder, but BPD was more likely, based on his descriptions of childhood. It helped to have a name for it. It gave him a better understanding of everything he went through.

“Which defines her behavior but doesn’t excuse it,” you said as you circled around him to face him. “Carmy, I love you.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I will support you if you want to invite Donna and I’ll weather any storms she brings with her. Who knows...maybe it’ll be a good day for her.” Your tone toward the end of your sentence became dubious.

Carmy sighed. “I don’t think I want to invite her, but I feel like I should.” He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“No, it does. You feel an obligation as her son to share this big moment with her. I get it.”

“Do you feel guilty about not inviting your dad?”

“A little.” Your lips pursed. “But, if I visualize our wedding, the thought of my dad standing beside me doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel excited about it. I just feel…”

“Dread?” he guessed.

You smiled faintly. “It’s more annoyance and anger for me.”

“Mm, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned his forehead and touched it to yours. How did he get so lucky? He imagined the wedding. He imagined seeing you across from him, sliding the ring on your finger, and stuttering through his vows. The usual nervousness bubbled up inside his chest, but it was smothered by the overwhelming warmth and affection he felt for you that bled across his skin like thick honey.

“I don’t think I can invite her,” he whispered.

“That’s okay, Carm.” You kissed him softly. “That’s okay.” You repeated against his mouth. A sensation of cool and blissful relief extinguished the last lingering remnants of his dread.

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

“Something is weird,” you said, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “Why are there two florist vans? Did we accidentally get two?” You didn’t recognize the name on the second van either. Must be a local shop, you thought, although that doesn’t explain why they’re here.

“I don’t think so,” Carmy said.

As everyone poured out of their cars, their garment bags slung over their arms or over their shoulders, a sharply dressed black woman emerged from the entrance and strode purposefully toward you and Carmy.

“You must be the Berzattos,” she said breathlessly as she shook your hands. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Vivienne and I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What sort of bad news?” Richie said, “The kind that gets us a discount?” He grinned at Carmy and your husband-to-be rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps.”

Richie whispered, “Oh shit.”

“We’ve had some technical issues with our new scheduling program.” She wrung her hands together. “The venue has been double-booked.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, noticing all the additional staff buzzing to and fro across the manicured lawn.

Vivienne said, “I’m so sorry for the mistake. If you’d like, we can reschedule you.”

Your stomach dropped into your shoes.

“Absolutely not,” you said, “people flew out to be here. We can’t reimburse flights and accommodations, and nor should we have to considering this is your error.” You sighed, feeling a headache press into your temples. “Why didn’t you notify us?”

“How about a discount and you can split the venue?” she offered, “we only realized the mistake when the two catering companies showed up.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” said Richie.

“Fuck,” Syd said.

Natalie crossed her arms. “I’m sorry did they say double-booked?”

“Mommy!” Sophia pulled at Natalie’s pant leg. “Mommy, look! Sunflowers!” She pointed at the floral van carrying out their arrangements.

You shared a glance with Carmy. “Can we have a minute?”

“Of course. Again, we’re so sorry.”

You and Carmy broke away from the group of your closest friends and family. You rubbed your hands down the length of your face.

“We can’t reschedule,” you said, “but how the hell are we going to share the venue? They have one kitchen and we paid for our guests to stay the night.”

“Maybe the timing works out,” Carmy said, taking your hand in his. “You want to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Then fuck it. We stay.”

“Okay, fuck it.” You smiled. “Let’s negotiate a good discount.”

“Say the word and I’ll send Pete in,” Carmy joked.

You laughed. “God, we might need him.”

The organization was a cluster-fuck. The venue manager, Vivienne, assured and promised that the space was large enough and that the other party – the Carmichael's – were having a noon wedding with a 2 PM reception and everything would be cleaned up for your 4 PM wedding and 5 PM reception. But, you noticed the proverbial cracks in the foundation. The necessary kitchen prep work, the clashing decorations, the intermingling guests, and the underlying stress and confusion permeated every interaction. You practiced intentional breathing and hoped you’d make it through the day without bursting into stress-induced tears.

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

The zipper was halfway up when it broke. You felt the snag, then the tug and pull, and the abrupt separation. You pressed your hand to your mouth and muffled the noise of discontent and frustration that threatened to break free.

Taylor pushed her long, thick dark braid over her shoulder and pursed her red lips at you. “We can work with this,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “We can fix it.”

You released a strangled, “can we?” You blinked back your burning tears—you didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

“Yeah, most of these places have emergency sewing kits,” your best friend said while digging through the drawers, “also, this might be a bad time, but is the chef single?”

Despite everything, you laughed. “Which chef?”

“The tall blonde one with the accent.”

“Luca?”

Taylor’s eyes brightened. “Yes!”

“I’ll find out for you,” you said while reaching for your phone. You smiled at the sight of your phone background, a black and white photo of you and Carmy, and Taylor snickered.

“I remember when you told me about him,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were all tied into knots about it...and now look at you! Tying the knot.” She winked. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.”

Your chest warmed with pleasure. “Me too.”

“Aha!” She held the little sewing kit aloft. It had the venue's name printed on the front of the bag. “Do you think they write this so nobody steals it?” She asked while tapping the swooping decal.

Before you could answer, your mom bustled into the room, her billowing lilac sleeves trailing after her arms.

“Oh! Look at you!” She grabbed your chin and kissed your cheek. “I’ve got something for you. A little tradition.”

“Mom, I don’t know if I can stomach any more surprises.” Taylor began to fix your zipper and the cold metal teeth periodically kissed your skin.

“You’ll like this surprise.”

Your mom removed a potted plant from her purse. The dark soil clung to her fingertips, the plant likely got knocked around more than once, as she set it down on the vanity. You recognized the wide, verdant leaves.

“A basil plant?”

“Normally, we give a flower of some type, but I chose a basil plant instead.” She smiled, pleased. “Nurture the plant as you nurture your future and it’ll thrive.”

Your throat tightened. “Thanks, Mom.” Your shoulders jerked as Taylor finished zipping and she whooped in triumphant delight.

“There we go, crisis averted,” said Taylor, “now we don’t have to worry about walking down the aisle naked.”

You rubbed your fingertips along the basil leaf and smiled at them.

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

“God,” Richie said, fixing his tie, “I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married, cousin.”

“Yeah, me either.” Carmy scratched the side of his nose.

“I always thought Mikey’d get married before you,” he said, “he was just more charmin’, you know? He had a way with people, women especially, God…” Richie shook his head. “He couldn’t walk down the street without getting some chick’s phone number.”

Carmy stared sullenly at his reflection. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t? ‘Cause then he’d have an ex-wife, or a widow, or a kid or somethin, I dunno.”

Carmy wondered if he’d forever be in rooms with Mikey’s shadow stuck to the corners. It didn’t suffocate him as much anymore. Mikey’s memory lurked within every conversation – like slivers of light through the paneled window shades. Today of all days though, Carmy suspected those slivers would blind him. Mikey should’ve been here, could’ve been, and he wasn’t.

“Yeah, good point.” Richie turned the side and smoothed his lapels. “Still, it should be him.”

Carmy’s neck flushed with indignation. Did Richie seriously have to be such an asshole? His brow furrowed. It was his fucking wedding day for fuck’s sake!

“Cousin—” Carmy began.

“Standing here, I mean, as your best man,” said Richie. “Look, there’s no takebacks and this would be a hell of a time to change your mind but it should’ve been Mikey. Not me. I get that, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say…” He fixed his tie again. “And I’m gonna do everything to make sure that this day doesn’t go to shit. I can promise you that, alright?”

Carmy blinked, at a loss for words at Richie’s admission. It had been six years and counting since Mikey’s death and Richie had been with him for every one. If he was being honest with himself and not caught up on nostalgia, if Mikey was here, then Carmy wasn’t sure he would have trusted him with all the responsibility. Hell, Richie organized a pizza-making bachelor party for him. He offered to trash the other couple’s wedding.

“Who else would it be?” he asked softly, “you’re family, Richie.”

Richie sniffed, nodded, and clapped his hand on Carmy’s shoulder, jostling him. When Carmy met his eyes, they were glassy and bright.

“I know.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “Let’s get you fucking married!” He pulled Carmy in a one-armed, half-hug and shook him. “Put a fucking smile on that face, Carm. Come on! Come on!”

He affectionately pinched Carmy’s face in one hand, squishing his mouth, and Carmy shoved Richie away, annoyed, but laughing—in the same way he’d get annoyed and laugh whenever Mikey goofed around with him.

“Fuck off,” said Carmy, without any heat.

“Hey,” Syd poked her head into the doorway, “you ready? The photographer wants to see all of the groomsmen.”

“Shouldn’t you say grooms-people? To be like politically correct or whatever,” Richie asked, “or groomsmen and women considering you’re among us.”

Syd made a face. “Richie shut up and come pose with us.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be inclusive,” he said loudly.

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

If someone asked you to recount all the details of your wedding—you didn’t think you could. It was the busiest and most stressful day of your life. You’d always remember the finer details like Carmy’s thoughtful, flustered vows, Richie starting a limbo competition, or Syd’s dad dancing with Taylor—at least for a while until she disappeared with Luca in tow. Good for you, you remembered thinking as you watched her form retreat down the hall.

But the rest of the day was an exuberant blur. It had been long and you were grateful to relax into the lush pillowcases with your short silk gown kissing your skin.

Carmy climbed into bed after showering and peppered kisses along your nose and jaw, his hands finding your hips beneath the covers and holding them.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you said with soft laughter before chasing his lips with yours.

“And you’re my wife,” he said, lifting your wrists and placing them over your head, “keep those there.”

You said, “We’ve been married less than twelve hours and you’re already bossing me around?”

Carmy chuckled and his breath puffed over your peaked nipples. His tongue laved over the silk, and moistened it before he drew your nipple between his lips. The soft silk and warmth of Carmy’s tongue was a heady, back-arching mixture.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, plunging your hands into his damp curls and scraping your nails over his scalp.

“Yeah?” His calloused palm felt its way down your thigh, “Are you wet for me already?”

“A little,” you admitted as you parted your legs for him.

“God,” he muttered before mouthing along your breasts and wetting the silk with his tongue and lips. He held one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed, pushing the mound into his mouth again and sucking your hard nipple. The sensation turned to liquid, sticky heat between your legs. You moaned, pushing upward into his grasp and gyrating your hips in askance. His hand was frustratingly close to your cunt, but not close enough. He rubbed up and down your inner thigh from knee to apex, letting his knuckles occasionally brush your pussy, before drawing away without adding any pressure. The fucking nerve of him!

“My wife is so fucking hot,” Carmy said, and hearing the words sent a hot, fresh thrill trembling through you.

“And my husband is a fucking tease,” you said, digging your fingertips into his hard, sculpted shoulders.

Carmy pulled his mouth away from your wet breasts. The silk had darkened where his mouth had been and you could faintly see your nipples through the semi-translucent fabric.

“Am I?” He drew his hands away from you and grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above your head, “I thought I said to keep these here.”

You snorted. “When have I ever listened?”

“You’re a great listener,” he said honestly.

“I want to touch you, Carmy,” you said, matching his honesty with your own, even as his praise sang through your ears and warmed your skin.

He softened. “Okay.” He pulled your wedding ring-adorned hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. The moment he released your hand, you slid your fingers down his chest, smiling at the way his eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks darkened. You wiggled your fingers beneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts and found him hard and pulsing within your grasp.

“Fuck.” He shuddered. “I feel like I could come just by looking at you.”

He jerked his hips into your touch as your fingers encircled him. You craned your neck upward and kissed him, finding the familiar rhythm of tongue and teeth, and moaning wantonly into his mouth when his hand cupped your wet folds. He hissed when his index finger pledged into you and your mind went white-hot and blank.

“Do you think the stress of the day has manifested into being super horny for each other?” You asked, your other hand cupping the back of Carmy’s neck, pinning his face close to yours so you could kiss him. His pretty blue eyes blinked at you.

“Maybe. But, I think I just want to fuck my wife.” His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned.

“It turns you on to call me your wife, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

His admission made your walls clench around his index finger. Maybe you liked it too. Maybe. You felt Carmy smile against your lips. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he muttered, “filling you, listening to you moan.”

You gasped and your eyes rolled back into your skull. It wasn’t often that Carmy engaged in dirty talk, so when he did, it was a rare and special treat that never failed to drench your core. Carmy ran his tongue along your neck, tasting your sweat before a second finger speared between your folds and coaxed that inner fire.

“Keep this on,” he said, dragging his teeth across the strap of your gown, “when I fuck you.”

“Mm – fuck. Okay,” you groaned.

“Actually, I—” his words were suddenly lost to a moan as you adjusted your grip on his cock, your fingers slicked with pre-cum. “Fuck, baby. I need you on top of me.”

“Gladly.”

Carmy rolled onto his back, yanking his shorts down, and you smiled at the sight of him – as desperate as you were with his chest heaving and his wet curls falling onto his forehead. Your walls clenched in anticipation as you hiked the hem of the dress over your hips. Carmy’s hands settled on your thighs and he watched hungrily as you held the base of his cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your spine convulsed and the sensation of him stretching you and filling you wiped out every lingering thought in your mind.

“God,” his voice was strangled, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

You cupped his face, resting your forehead on his as you rode him, and said, “so do you.”

“I love you so much,” Carmy said reverently, “so goddamn much.”

Your heart threatened to break and regrow the from sheer tenderness of his words. Carmy, you learned over the years, expressed his love with acts of service and he said ‘I love you’ most often while having sex. However, something about this ‘I love you’ was different. It was more intense on your post-wedding night. You buried your face into his sweaty neck, your bodies and hearts joined, your futures intrinsically linked.

“I love you too.”

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

You tilted the watering can over the thriving basil plant and smiled.

“Auntie.” Sophia, freshly eight years old, held something in her hands. “I found a worm.”

You blinked at her. “Put it back?”

“Okay!” She replied cheerily and dropped the worm back into the potted rosemary. She spun when the balcony door slid open. “Hi Uncle Carmy! Do you want to see the worm?” She pointed.

Carmy smiled, first at his niece, and then at you. “Let me see,” he said, crouching. He balanced his wrists on his knees and the sunlight gleamed off his wedding band. Your heart skipped. My husband. You wondered what your grandfather would say if you could tell him that his death led you to your soulmate, a second family, and a range of new friends. Knowing him he’d tell me that he would’ve died sooner if he knew how happy it’d make me. Your grandfather had had a wry sense of humor.

Carmy stood and put his arm around you. “We’re going to need to re-pot the basil if it keeps growing like this,” he said absentmindedly.

You leaned into him and kissed his cheek.

[queenpiranhadon]

⚡︎⎸⎸ 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ⎸⎸⚡︎

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting ((((again) again) again) again), I present this to thee ;) I was working on a time crunch lmao I literally have to wake up for school in like 6.5 hours :,) but I wanted to get this out for Fred’s birthday :). And to @your-local-multi-geek, thanks for staying up and beta reading this for me:) Might make a part two of this…it’s really short. Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): f!reader, Fred and reader are dating, reader is a Slytherin, we’re going to the Yule Ball!, reader’s a badass lmao, Fred is taller than reader (shh he will always be tall to me), characters might be a little ooc, secret relationship reveal, reader wears a dress, Fred calls reader love, reader calls him handsome.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Girlfriend!Reader

You felt amazing.

Like really amazing.

Standing there in your gown, you stare at the way your dress hugs you just right, and Merlin did you look good.

Even better, you felt good.

You smirk, the reflection in your mirror smirking back at you, with a daring look in your eye that could rival a Gryffindor’s.

Tonight was the Yule Ball, and you planned on making a statement. You were ambitious, like the rest of your house, but you weren’t as bad as the general public made you out to be. You were kind, and brave, and maybe you enjoyed to stir up trouble on occasion (nothing harmless though), and you (rightfully) thought of yourself in a high regard- not enough to come off as snobbish or arrogant, but definitely enough to show someone that at a glance, you were confident, and you knew how to stand your ground.

That’s how you met Fred- and how you created quite a reputation for yourself.

That’s how you met Fred.

Only a year and a half ago, some pricks from within your own house had been picking a fight with the aforementioned ginger and his twin brother. Both parties would’ve ended with less than ideal injuries, had you not stepped in and basically gave each an every one of them a run down as to why they were being idiots and precisely how each of them messed up.

At first, the Slytherin group had laughed in your face, finding the fact that a girl only a year below them thought she was superior to those older than her funny.

They didn’t seem to find your Aguamenti charm as amusing though, dousing them and their robes in ice cold water, glaring at them with an ever colder stare as spluttered and cursed, deciding that angering you further wasn’t worth it.

They may have thought you scary- but in that moment, Fred fell in love.

The months following said encounter involved the Weasley to attempt to befriend you in any way he could, and you were happy to oblige- knowing that he was a good person despite his pranks, and in all honesty, threatening people would be a lot more fun with the support of one of the most destructive students at Hogwarts.

You two had become close, and after one secluded night in the Astronomy Tower, the both of you started dating.

No one knew though.

Until tonight.

Fred had asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball, to which you accepted, with a wide grin on your face.

It was going to be so fun to see the looks on everyone’s faces at the mere thought of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin dating, much less be willing to have the company of the other.

But if anyone was going to break that stereotype, it was you and Fred.

Other than the two of you, George was the only other person who knew about your relationship, cackling when he found out what the two of you were planning to do.

As the two of you discussed, you would meet up by the kitchens, so that no one would notice the two of you together until you would enter the Great Hall.

You waited, running your fingertips along the fruit of the painting that concealed the entrance, occupying yourself by observing every single paint stroke and fiber of the canvas to occupy your time.

Lost in your own world, you don’t notice anyone approaching you until a steady arm encircles your waist, holding you snug against their chest.

You register smell of cinnamon, the familiar scent of your boyfriend wafting into your nose. You giggle, realizing Fred put on some cologne too.

Spinning around in his arms, you place your hands on his chest, smiling up at him as you drink in his features. His hair was messy, as usual, but you couldn’t deny that he still looked dashing as ever in his tuxedo, black cloth hugging him perfectly and allowing you to see the faint outline of his muscles. A button on his undershirt was left undone, holding it in your fingers as you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He chuckles, brushing a strand of your hair out of your face and pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips in awe.

“You look beautiful, love.” He whispers, his voice just below a whisper, and yet you heard him perfectly.

“And you as well, handsome.” You say, pressing a kiss to his nose gently, and take yourself out of his embrace in favor of entwining his hand in yours.

“Are you ready?”

“It’s you and me against the world, love.”

[pvffinsdaisies]

Ireland Headcanon Masterpost

Artwork drawn by @nordickies

Part three of creating master posts for my interpretation of certain characters & nations. This time we’re doing the lovely miss Ireland! Who has been occupying my mind a lot recently. Before we get into it, I want to say that I have not been developing Ireland for even half as long as I have been every other character I have. She’s been a floating concept in my mind for years, but I only actually started to develop her properly last month. For most of the time I’ve had her, she’s just been a pretty face and a name, and I’ve been having so much fun actually exploring her. If you enjoy reading her information, I’ve also made posts for Scotland and my OC of Northumbria, both of those posts are going to be much longer than this one is.

I want to emphasise that I am no history expert, and I do not even wish to be associated with historical hetalia. However, as I am from England, it means I am treading a very fine line with my portrayal. That being said, if anyone from Ireland sees this post and takes issue with anything I say here, I encourage you to reach out and correct me! I am still learning, and, as I’ve said before, my portrayal is still very new.

PHYSICAL

Ireland stands at about 5’5, or about 165cm. Making her about the average height for an Irish woman. She still gets teased by Scotland for being “short.”

She has pretty small features. Small, green eyes, a tiny little button nose, and a small mouth with thin lips. She is very pretty, but she still looks quite approachable.

She has long, beautiful ginger hair. It’s pretty wavy, her natural texture is 2c, but she styles it pretty often. Her siblings have always loved to tease her about her hair- the colour and texture- so she’s pretty insecure about it.

She’s very good at styling her hair because of this, though she’s no longer a massive fan of fancy up does. She insists she’s no good on hair that isn’t her own, but she taught most of her siblings how to do at least a plait growing up.

Ireland is covered in freckles, from head to toe.

Her skin is naturally very pale, but it’s also very sensitive, and can turn red pretty easily. She always has to be careful about the stuff she puts on, or else she’ll come out in a rash.

She has a tooth gap between her two front teeth, it represents the River Shannon, the longest river in Ireland.

She has a rectangle body shape, although she used to be a bit curvier when she was younger.

Once rounder and softer, her body still hasn’t returned to how it looked before the potato famine of the 1800s. Her size is far healthier now, but she’s still quite thin and boney. Ireland is not her ideal size, and wishes she could gain a bit more weight to feel more comfortable.

That being said, her bottom is actually pretty plump. Representing the mountains that lie around the edge of Ireland.

Whilst she does like to wear make up every now and then, she’s actually pretty bad at it. Her application can be patchy, and she’s not the best at matching shades. It’s nothing you’ll notice straight away, however, and she genuinely does feel prettier when she wears it.

She has the Triskelion, or the Celtic Spiral Knot, tattooed on the inside of her upper, right arm. The symbol has different meanings depending on who you ask, but she had it tattooed to represent the continuous of life, and moving forward. It was also just a way for her personally to show that she will never, ever let her culture be stripped from her.

PERSONALITY

Ever the extrovert, Ireland is friendly and welcoming to everyone she meets. She has a natural ease about her, and a remarkable ability to make people comfortable around her quickly. Within 2 sentences, you could easily feel as though you’ve known her your entire life. Like you’re laughing and joking with an old friend.

Much like her brother, Scotland, Ireland is remarkable at comedy and making people laugh, she firmly believes a good sense of humour goes a long way. Her humour is a bit more lighthearted and witty than the rest of her siblings.

Ireland shows her affection through teasing and sarcasm. It’s how she jokes with her friends, and the more she teases you, the more she likes you. It could come across as mean, but her tone is usually playful enough to not cause harm.

Her culture truly means everything to her, and she loves sharing it with people. She actually loves meeting tourists, she loves telling them stories of her people, and she actually isn’t opposed to sharing her past with them. She will proudly gives them ideas of other places in Ireland to visit, and things to do, she hopes that everyone who takes the time to come visit leaves happy and smiling, having had a fun, interesting and informative experience.

However, she is also extremely protective and defensive of herself, her culture and her past. After years of oppression, being ignored and spoken over, who can blame her? She isn’t too appreciative when someone speaks on her behalf, she doesn’t like other’s sharing information without consulting her directly. She is vocal, and not afraid to step up and correct people, and put them in their place.

Empathy is where Ireland truly shines. Easily feeling and immediate connection with and understanding for those going through hardship. She will always be an advocate for the underdog, for those whose voices are not being properly heard. She longs to provide the compassion, and the feeling of having someone in your corner, that she lacked when she was suffering.

That being said, she can be very judgmental, and she’s a huge gossiper. She usually attempts to soften it by saying something like “and, god love them” or “god, bless their heart” or “but who am I to judge?” as though she’s not just been talking shit for the past hour.

Ireland cannot hide her feelings, and she doesn’t see the need to. She’s very open when she’s happy, upset, angry etc.

For as open a person as she can be, she still hasn’t quite processed her hurt and her negative feelings correctly. Choosing to brush it off, and pretend she no longer cares. She can grow very resentful because of this, but she absolutely refuses to accept this may be a problem.

Ireland can be feisty and fiery if need be, she knows how to defend herself and she will! She’s never been shy, no matter what, and she won’t let someone walk all over her. She never has, and she never will go down without a fight. She prides herself on this.

Ireland is extremely laid back, she’s not prone to jealousy or possessiveness, and she’s certainly not over-protective about anything. She doesn’t see the point of trying to cling onto someone, it all just seems pointless.

HOBBIES

Ireland is creative mind, and one of her best skills is gold-smithing and her ability to work with metals. She prefers to make her own jewellery, and she loves making fancy and intricate broaches especially. However, she mainly does smaller projects now, as her workshop is merely a cleared out space in her basement. She’d love to find a bigger place to rent out.

You will rarely ever find someone who’s a better storyteller than Ireland, she truly has a way with words. Be it short stories, poems or songs, she excels at it. She absolutely loved to share her stories with her siblings when they were growing up.

Music means a lot to Ireland, she wouldn’t know who she is without it, and as well as writing songs, she also sings. She doesn’t have the best voice, but it’s pretty and melodic. It’s soft and calming, and she has fine technic. But it’s certainly nothing special.

She also plays the harp, which she’s very skilled with.

Ireland loves a party and celebration, and she always goes all in. She seemingly never gets tired, or never needs to go home to rest, she can just keep going.

On a calmer note, she also loves just sitting in a pub and having a few casual drinks. Doesn’t need to be a celebration. She especially loves a proper Irish bar, and she almost has a sixth sense where she can find one wherever she goes.

Speaking of bars, Ireland is pretty good at snooker. She’s no hobbyist though. She and Scotland are at pretty much an equal level, and they’re the only two in the family who stand a chance of beating one another.

She loves a good walk around the countryside, and she’s always driving out of the city to have a stroll. Though she will constantly complain about the sheep blocking the road.

She does boxing, though she’s still a very low level beginner, and definitely not good enough to go up against anyone yet. It was a hobby she picked up a few years back, to try and help her build some strength and muscle.

As well as sharing her own, Ireland absolutely loves taking the time to learn about other cultures of the world too. Every time she has a meeting in a foreign country that she doesn’t visit too often, she tries to see and do as many cultural things as she can outside of work. She absolutely loves travelling.

She adores animals, she firmly believes they’re smarter than humans give them credit for, and she loves to draw them! She’s not the most skilled artist, she really only does sketch work in a sketch book. She rarely attempts to colour in, or smooth out the lines.

Ireland’s favourite, and her comfort show, is Father Ted, she puts it on whenever she’s upset. Without fail, it will always make her laugh, even if she’s seen every episode about 1000 times already.

Ireland enjoys knitting, alongside some of her other family members. She pretty much exclusively knits all of her own cardigans herself.

LIFESTYLE

Ireland uses the human name Saoirse Ó Raghallaigh, which later got anglicised to Saoirse O’Reilly. Between the use of these different spellings, she was forced to take the name Kirkland for a time. She changed it back following independence, but used the new spelling to help blend in with her people.

Irish is her first language, and she is determined to help keep the language alive. She offers tutoring lessons for people (Irish or not) to learn the language. Unfortunately, she’s not the best at teaching.

Alongside Irish, she also knows English, ISL (Irish Sign Language), Latin and BSL (British Sign Language). She knows a little bit of Manx and Scottish Gaelic.

Saoirse currently lives in Dublin. She used to own a farmhouse, but following independence she decided it’d be best to move to the city. She sometimes misses her old house, and you’ll catch her reminiscing on it. She doesn’t hate city life, though.

She is incredibly family oriented. If you ask Saoirse, family always has and always should come first. As the oldest, she helped raise all her siblings the best she could. She always felt closest to Northern Ireland and Scotland when they were growing up, and whilst she & Scotland are still close to this day, things with N. Ireland have been better. Their relationship has recently been… strained, to put it nicely. Saoirse is still waiting for the day when they can be close again. She never has and never will stop reaching out.

Ireland does not have any pets. However, for most of her life, she had a Wolf friend who would always find its way back to her no matter where she travelled. She did not own this wolf, it was free and was part of a pack, however, it was supposedly immortal, like many hetalia pets. It was killed in the 1700s. Ireland has a picture of it that she drew herself hung up in her living room.

In terms of religious beliefs, Saoirse would describe herself as “Catholic Pagan.” She might get some strange looks from foreigners who hear this term, but her religious beliefs combine both Catholicism and Celtic Paganism. She believes in the Lord, and in Jesus, but also believes in and sees traditional folk creatures. She seeks guidance and truth in tales from both religions.

Out of all of her siblings, Ireland is probably the worst driver. She usually is not in front of the wheel when someone else is in the car, because they don’t feel entirely safe in the car when she drives.

Saoirse is so bad when it comes to procrastination. She’s perhaps too laid back in that aspect. She doesn’t like to rush anything, and will continue to push back things she needs to do until she can actually be bothered. If anyone calls her out on it, she’ll blame the weather, saying something like, “have you seen how it’s raining out there? It’s not fit to do anything!”

She has a small fairy friend who lives at the bottom of her garden, named Órlaith, who likes to sneak inside the house and cause trouble when Saoirse isn’t in. Otherwise, you can sometimes see her fluttering above her shoulder. It’s not uncommon for the pair of them to gossip together about certain people they meet.

You’ll never not see her without a cup of tea. She perhaps has too much of it, drinking multiple cups at home, and taking some out with her in a travel mug if she’s going somewhere. If she’s visiting someone, she’ll be sat waiting to be offered a cup of tea. She drinks the most out of the whole family, which drives england nuts. She’ll get grumpy if she doesn’t have a cup of tea on a morning.

[thegreatirene]

Rose Covered Skin

Fezco x Latina!reader

Cuz I fell in love with this ginger drug dealer I’m hopping on the bandwagon and writing a Latina reader with fez. I think fez needs a Latina in his life lol so I’m giving him one.

Rated Mature (language, drug use, strip tease, poor attempt of describing the dance lol)

“Is that the hot neighbor you said your brother been drooling over?” Asked rue as she looked out the front window of ash and fez’s apartment. Ashtray was in the kitchen pouring himself some cereal as he laughed.

“Is she walking around with some big ass dogs?”

“Yea”

“Yea that’s her” he laughed as he sat down at the table.

“Every time she walks by the window he tries to go out there and talk to her.”

“Aww does our Fez got himself a little crush” rue said as she walked over to the table and pinched fez’s cheek. He swatted her hand away as he focused on his phone. Trying to ignore what they were talking about.

“Fez if you don’t get up she’s gonna be gone”

“He waits until she comes back from her walk” ash says with a mouthful of cereal.

“You have a big mouth ash” fez looked up from his phone and glared at his brother. Both rue and ash laughed at his face. Fezco got up from the table and walked towards the door.

“Where you going fez? We’re just joking” rue said as she wiped her eye.

“I’m going to the shop and get something”

“…” both rue and ash looked at each other and smirked.

“Y’all do too much” he sucked his teeth and went out the door. He could hear their laughter from outside the door as he shook his head with a small smile on his face. Fez sat at the bottom of the stairs and lit his blunt.

“Hey fez” came your voice. Fez blew his smoke away from you and smiled.

“Hey y/n, how you doin?”

“I’m fine and you?”

“Yea I’m good just got a friend saying hi and bugging me”

You giggled and shifted your weight on to your right foot. Hip popped to the side giving fez a chance to eye it, he followed the curve of your leg up and to the detailed ink of roses going from your thigh and under the shorts. His eyes met yours as you looked at him with fluttering lashes.

“Saw one of your girlfriends in the window earlier” you looked at your nails as you said this.

“Who rue? Nah she ain’t my girlfriend. She a friend of the family” he took a hit of his blunt.

“But you do have a girl tho?”

“Nah ma ain’t got a girl, not yet” he looked at you from under his lashes. He sat back on the steps and eyed your body slowly until they got to your eyes.

“Mm” you said as you puckered your lips and nodded. Your dogs whined at your side and you looked at them.

“Well, I’ll see you later fez the girls are getting upset they didn’t eat yet. Maybe come by my job? ” You walked up to him slowly. You bent down and grabbed his blunt from his fingers, “I’ll save you a dance” you brought it up to your lips and inhaled. You placed the blunt to his lips and the smoke rolled out of your mouth as you stood back up.

He smiled as he slowly stood up. You looked up at him as he stood over you. The both of you stood there staring at each other. The sexual tension strong as you waited for him to make a move. You wanted him to touch you so bad. He wanted the same, he wanted to touch you, to feel your hot skin.

He moved closer as the tip of his nose brushed the side of your forehead. You closed your eyes as you felt him. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he moved his nose across your cheek. His hand that wasn’t holding the blunt moved to your hip as he brought you closer to him.

“Hey fez, I thought you were going to the shop” ash’s voice broke through the haze between the two of you as you opened your eyes and met the ones of the younger brother.

“Hey ashy, how you doin little man” you asked as you slowly moved back from fez’s hold and to the side of him. Fez exhaled through his nose as he rolled his head and turned to look up at his brother. Fez’s cheeks were flushed as he looked up at him.

“Sup (nickname) I’m good” he said with a small knowing smile as his eyes shifted from you to his brother. “I see you doin good too” a snort came from the side of the door.

You shook your head with smile as you looked down and then looked at fez. He rubbed his face with his hand as he put the unlit blunt behind his ear.

“Yea get my keys and we can go” he huffed as he looked at his brother then to you.

“I’ll see you later tonight?” You stepped to him and kissed his cheek. A shiny kiss mark was left behind and he gave a small smile.

“Yea I’ll see you” he said as he watched you walk away until you went around the corner.

“Fez you fucking simp” came Rue’s voice as both her and ash started to cackle and ran back into the apartment as fez turned a glare at them.

—

“Gentlemen let me introduce our star of the night to the stage, Ivy!” The announcer’s voice came over the speakers as desire by Meg Myers played. You walked on stage with slow and precise steps as you walked to the center pole.

The red lights bathed the stage as you grabbed the pole did a twist into a squat. The white bikini you wore hugged your body tightly as you threw your head back and ran your other hand down your body.

You rolled your head to the side and slid back up as you turned and continued your dance. The feel of the song made your body tingled as you swung on the pole. You held it with your legs and hung your body down. Your hands ran up your body slowly until you cup your breast. You opened your eyes and met fez’s.

He watched you with lidded eyes. He licked his lips as he watched you drop down on to a split on your knees. Your back to him you gathered your hair up and moved your hips. Turning around you crawled to the edge of the stage where he sat. You hung your head off the stage as you moved your left hand through your breast and onto your neck. Your legs bent at the knees as you moved your body in the air. Grinding it as if someone was there.

Your eyes closed as you opened your mouth and moaned lowly. Fez eyes hungry as he watched you. They widened when he watched you lift your legs into the air and practically swung your body over the stage and onto his lap.

Your hair fell over his shoulder as you brought your head back onto his shoulder. You brought your left hand up to his cheek and rolled your body on top of him. Moving his face to look at you, you brought your face closer to him so that he could feel the faint touch of your lips.

You looked down and then to his eyes. You could feel his breath on your lips as he huffs and puffs. You could feel him harden under you and smiled. Letting his face go you bent forward as you sat on his crotch.

Moving your legs from the side of him to the middle and opening his. You placed your hands on each of his knees as you grind yourself on his hardness. Grabbing his hands you ran them up your torso until they got to your breast and you squeezed.

Falling back on to his chest you continued to dance on him as you felt him squeeze you one more time. You got up slowly as you turned to look at him and danced a little in between his legs. You kept your half lidded eyes on him as you placed your hands on his knees and swung your hair and turned to get back on stage. You swung yourself a couple times on the pole and left as the song came to an end.

—

Fez sat at the bar nursing the drink he ordered as he waited for you. He thought about the way your body felt and how you smelled. He wanted to feel you again.

“Hey” you whispered into his ear as you sat next to him.

Fez looked over to you and smiled, “sup, you were amazing.”

“Thanks my boss said that was my best routine,” you laughed as you placed a drink order with the bartender.

“She said you should come by more often if I was gonna perform like that” he chuckled as he drank the rest of his drink. You smiled too as you got your drink.

“I might if I get to take you home at the end of the night”

“Hmm, what’s in it for me?” You asked as you took a sip of your drink.

“Whatever you want”

“Oh really?”

“Whatever you want” he said as he leaned towards you. Your noses touched each other and you bit your lip with a smile.

“Ok I got my car with me tho” you said as you moved back a bit. He brought your face closer and kissed your lips once. He broke the kiss and looked at you. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip he looked at your eyes again.

“Leave it I’ll come by in the morning and get it for you, k”

“Ok”

—

*knock knock knock knock*

“Who is it?”

“It’s me ash” came Rue’s voice.

He opened the door and let her in. Ash walked into the kitchen as he made himself something to eat.

“Fez here?”

“Nah he’s out right now. You need something?”

“His car’s outside” she pointed her thumb to the door. Ash raised his eyebrow as he walked to the window and looked out. Sure enough the car is there.

He walked to the back and knocked on his brother’s door. But he didn’t come to it. Ash opened and looked inside and saw no one.

“Yea I don’t know where he is”

“Maybe he’s at his girlfriend’s place” rue wiggled her eyebrows. Ash rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen.

Fezco walked right as ash walked into the kitchen, “sup lil bro whatcha doin” he asked as he made his way to his room.

“Nothin” ash answered as he watched him go. He turned to look at Rue who was sitting at the couch. She gave him a knowing look and watched fez come back out.

“Sup fez”

“Hey rue, when you get here?”

“Been here for a couple of minutes”

Fez nodded his head, “cool.”

“Where you go?” Ash asked as he looked at his brother changed clothes.

“I was doing something. Why you need something Rue? Cuz I told you I’m cutting you off”

“I know I just wanted to hang with you guys. Maybe get some weed. Nothing hard just that”

“Ash can help you with that” he said as he walked towards the door and left. Both Rue and Ash ran to the window and looked outside. They watched as fez went down the stairs and around the corner.

“No fucking way” both kids ran out the door and down the stairs just in time to see fez go up the stairs that led to your apartment floor. They watched as fez pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. Your door.

—

Fez kicked off his shoes at the door and petted one of the dogs that came up to him. He made his way towards your bedroom door and went in. He took his shirt off and his pants. He pulled the covers back enough to get in and slid right next to you.

His arms went around your waist and pulled you back into his side. You mumbled and he shushed you telling you to go back to sleep. He buried his face in your hair and inhaled your smell. Kissing your head one last time before he fell asleep.

[lukeywritesstuff]

Yapping and chill

Willy the cat AU

Lhughes_06

Liked by lifewithy/n markestapa and others

Lhughes_06: me and the bad bitch I pulled by yapping 🗣️🗣️🗣️

Jackhughes: you both don’t stfu

→ lifewithy/n: I know where you sleep Rowden…

_Quinnhughes: why are you in winter and she’s in summer

→ lhughes_06: cuz we’re just better than you.

Dylanduke25: yapping: verb gerund or present, participle: yapping, give a sharp, shrill bark. "the dachshunds yapped at his heels"

→ lhughes_06: an·noy·ing, adjective, causing irritation or annoyance. "annoying habits"

Trevorzegras: I followed you for Yorkie JR. content. Not to see you two…

→ lhughes_06: I’ll snap that ankle back in half Z.

→ cam.york: do you not listen to me when I say not everything that’s ginger/red is me??? Or is related to me???

→ jackhughes: uh oh Z got the leprechaun mad !!

Lifewithy/n

Liked by lhughes_06, jamie.drysdale and others

Lifewithy/n: me and the loser I pulled by being enamoured with his yapping +more

Lhughes_06: guess who’s getting none tonight…

→ jackhughes: none of WHAT

→ lifewithy/n: jackiana I think he’s meaning kisses or like uhh cuddles

Lhughes_06: why’d you pick the WORST pictures you have of me 😩😩😩

→ lifewithy/n: because I love you pookie <3

→ lhughes_06: call me pookie or shnookums again and I’m leaving with the child.

→ lifewithy/n: you would NEVER !

Quinnhughes: nice painting. Who know you had a talent that’s not driving me insane all summer long with your terrible singing!

→ lifewithy/n: Quintin I am in your walls.

[thereaperisabitch]

My Joel Miller's fics recs from 2023

I’ve planned to do this since before Christmas, but life caught me up, so that's why I'm here rushing to finishing this before the reveillon party. 2023 was a very tough year for me, in different ways, and this stories were my refuge and my balm during good times and bad times, so this was the way I found to honor all these incredible authors who made my life better this year.

To the authors: you guys are the most amazing and sweet people ever, I know that I'm not active as other readers and I don't reblog your works enough - and I'm sorry for that, I wish I could shower you with the praises you guys deserve.

Hope this will make up for all the comments and reblogs that I haven't give.

And to the readers who find this recs: most of these stories are series and most of them has age gap and are Joel Miller x fem/afab!reader. I won't put warnings from each fic because it would be a too long post, so click the link and read the author's warnings in each before you start to read - I'm afraid to get into fandoms because of people who give shit to authors, so please, don't be this kind of person.

Someday I'll make a part 2 of other stories that caught me up this year.

That all being said, thank you @morning-star-joy @hier--soir @frannyzooey @joelsgreys @fuckyeahdindjarin @the-ginger-hedge-witch @eupheme @bageldaddy @covetyou @theidiotwhowritesthings @atinylittlepain @imtryingmybeskar @ezrasbirdie

A stranger's heart without a home (complete)

Summary: A one night stand that later becomes a secret affair – or masterpiece of literature – all the poets and great writers ran so Doni could walk.

This is my favorite fic of all times, forever! I read and re-read it so much that I can’t even count how many times I’ve had read it, it’s my 100% comfort fic. Enemies to lovers is my favorite trope, and the way @morning-star-joy developed here it’s perfection in the most pure way.

It’s Joel on his Jackson era and it’s a perfect character development from both sides, how to people who prefer to deal things on their own learn to rely on someone else.

I also highly recommend But you know the killer doesn't understand, which it’s on-going Joel x fem! Reader also post-Outbreak in Jackson, but it’s different and addicting as ASHWAH.

A Lover’s Pinch (on-going)

Summary: a one night stand (do I have a pattern?) at the bar turns to be so much more when you discover that your fling it’s your professor at university.

The professor x student trope might be cliché for some, and by the very brief summary that I wrote above may sound like Pretty Little Liars, but @hier--soir works with those elements and creates something beyond amazing, it is like contemplate a work of art at a museum, but much better.

I’m very much obsessed with this story, that’s why I reread it with more and more frequency.

Can’t even mention the references in this story – it’s truly enriching, it makes all better, truly.

Plus: the playlist it’s amazing!!!!

Short Days, Long Nights (on-going)

Summary: Remnants of a band travelers, you and Joel find a cabin in the woods - what would be the problem with staying?

I’m crazy about this one, it’s my true love and it had 3 or 4 chapters when I started and now we’re heading to chapter 17, blessed be @frannyzooey for sustaining us with this preciosity for so long.

I'm a sucker for when there's one character (Joel) reluctant for his feelings, and if the story was only about this, I would be perfectly glad too with, too. BUT Kelli it's a genius, an amazing writer, giving me all that I didn't even knew I wanted.

It's fluff, with smut from the highest quality - with some tense moments, wich turns everything more addicting.

A Safe Haven (on-going)

Summary: Joel's quickly drawn to the vet of Jackson - even knowing she's married. Will this affair thrive? Or there's more underneath of the vet's story? (Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry for this lame summary, but I refuse to copy from your masterlist and I’m also rushing to finishing this rec today).

I was bought on the infidelity trope and the drama that comes with it. It would still be a nice story, but @joelsgreys it’s so much fucking talented that she wrote the most beautiful thing ever!

It has tooth roting fluff, drenching panties smut and heartstopping angst! All perfectly written and balanced.

I also love how Ellie it's also a crucial character for the couple's history and I really adore how she's attached to Peach.

Special mention to Fall Into Temptation and Strawberry, that lived rent free in my mind since I've read those.

Seams (on-going)

Summary: Joel pays visit to Jackson's seamstress after a trouble with his too-tight jeans – and it's only heaven from that on, won't say more.

Now I call @fuckyeahdindjarin ✨Queen of the Build Up✨ and that's because the way Cee builds up the sexual tension between characters it's undescribable.

Cee is such an excellent writer, not only in Seams but on other stories too she's gives a rich description of details that makes the reading flow better, it's like knowing you looking at gem stone.

Breakout (complete)

Summary: Boxer!Joel AU when he has to train a fuckboy who happens to date a sweet little thing.

Well I'm a fan from @the-ginger-hedge-witch for a while, she wrote one of the best Javier Peña fics ever (which turned into a book and that's fucking A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!!) and other amazing stories, but this one got me hooked so bad.

Clearly I have a pattern because I LOVE when there is an obstacle for the characters to stay together, in this case, a relationship (I already spoiled that her boyfriend sucks, but I don't think it's spoils the story development) and Ren just atests she's a wonderful writer - now book writer, blessed be her 🙏🏻

And the idea of Joel using his fists it's already apealing, am I right?

I also recommend Friendly Fire, that I love just for knowing that in this, Ren envisioned an Aries character for reader - but also the premise of the story is great, too.

In The Woods Somewhere (complete)

Summary: living alone in a cabin at the apocalypse gets less dull when a teenager appears with a handsome injured man.

I've read this since a while, but it marked me. @eupheme created such tenderness between the characters - they know he and Ellie can't stay, which makes the affair even more apealling.

I’ll know It when I see it (on-going)

Summary: Joel as a porn star in its golden era who meets Lucky, a rising star in porn - chemestry goes beyond the cameras.

@bageldaddy deserves all the shout out forever because this here it's golden. They're both are porn stars and I could be hot just for this, but of course there's feelings involved - and the way they struggle to fight against these it's what makes this story even more perfect. Shout out to the one shot Sundown, as well, it’s completely wonderful.

Something wretched about this (complete)

Summary: Joel Miller it's a self appointed pharmacist in the QZ, and fucks you when you don't have how to pay for your father's medicine

Whoring yourself for meds sounds bad? In this story it's hot af! It's filthy, each chapter explores different sexual practices and it's THE. BEST. THING. IN. THE. WORLD!!!

@covetyou it's the most blessed being for writing a perfection like this, seriously. I loved every single chapter of this, loved Joel being an asshole and a slut. I can't tell enough how much joy this story has brought me. And lo it's better than Santa, because she provides christmas gifts for the nice and naughty, with Freeze-thaw (smut with fluff) and Baubles (smut with FILTH) - I can't die before I try the balldo, I didn't even knew this, didn't think that this could be possible - but happily it is, and this one shot it's perfect in every aspect.

Take Care of You (on-going)

Summary: Joel it's a sugar daddy in this AU and appears in your life to make all better 👀 He doesn't charges for the sexual part of the arrangement, but he's irresistible - so what will you do?

The ideia of a sugar daddy it's extremely appealing to me because that's all I wanted, you know? Some rich hot guy telling me I don't need to work and paying everything to me - that's living! Okay jk, but I started reading this when things caught up badly at work, so it was a sweet refuge.

@theidiotwhowritesthings it's the perfect writer! It's the perfect slow burn that makes you thirst for more and more!

Apothecary (complete)

Summary: Summary: Joel falls in love with the "witch" from Jackson and it has its perks and struggles.

I LOVE Practical Magic, it's one of my favorites witch movies so to read something inspired on that it's great -but @atinylittlepain it's such a wonderful, talented, amazing writer - so we were all blessed with this masterpiece.

It has fluff, angst, smut - stupid people being scared about what they don't understand and etc. It's very sweet, Joel also doesn't understands about her, but can't help being drawn. And Ellie it's a natural, their relationship here, how they grow to be a family ... it's utterly sweet. Special mention to Only Lovers Left Alive (another movie that I LOVE),  The Heyloft and the masterpiece Down to The Ankles (it's perfection and it's inspired in Bones and All, other film that I truly love).

Come home (on-going)

Summary: when you've lost everything and everyone, you reach to Jackson - and meets a ruggedly handsome who you can't help being drawn to.

I've read this for a while, as well, but I still think about this story often. It's a slow burn - which I love (in case you haven't noticed from the stories listed above) - and it's so sweet, the blossom of a friendship that turns to more, their relationship with Ellie ... It's been a while since it was uptaded and I hope @imtryingmybeskar it's okay, because this story it's lovely and I really wish to see and ending for them.

Catalyst

I'm gonna just summarize that it's a threesome with Joel and Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier, that's it - if that ain't reason enough for you to read, idk man.

I didn't even knew that I wanted it, that I needed it - until I read it. I find threesomes hot af, but I don't tend to enjoy when it's with characters that I love too deeply - don't ask me why - but in THIS ONE, GOD FUCKING DAAAAAMN!

It has filth, of course, but there's also fluff - which I find inevitable when it's about Frankie. In the chapter Here, especially, @ezrasbirdie builds perfectly of the struggles that I imagine for a threeway relationship, reading it was sad, hot and lovely.

Hope all the links work, 'cause I don't have time to check now 🙃

Sorry if my comments felt weird, if I forgot to mention something, as I've said above, I intend to make a part 2 of recs someday soon (hopefully).

I wish everyone a happy new year 🎆🥂🎇

[sgt-morgan]

Of Cowboys and Daisies🐎

Summary: Jack is assigned to watch over a mother and her adorable little girl. As they get closer and closer to taking care of their problem, Jack worries he won’t be able to let go.

Warnings: AFAB! Female identifying reader, talks of cannon typical violence, death of a spouse x2, really a fluff piece.

A/N: I wrote this because I have that stupid Tik tok edit song stuck in my noodle.

Masterlist

Follow up fic

Agent Whiskey wasn’t sure he was going to survive this arrangement. Champ said it was temporary, but his idea of temporary passed about two months ago. It was a fairly simple assignment, and with everything that’s happened, an easy assignment is a lot kinder than getting kicked off the team. So he took the job, even though the rapidly approaching end of it made him want to drink until he couldn’t see straight.

“It’s a simple protection detail.” Champ had shrugged, pulling the file out of his desk and smacking it down in front of him with a sigh. “She’s a youngin’, at least to me anyway. She’s CIA, talented too, once her life is out of the red zone, I’ll probably recruit her. Sharp as a tack, quick as a whip, and she’s got the mouth of a sailor, she’s right up your alley.” Jack studies the files with interest, running a curious finger over the picture of you that was attached to the file. You were a looker for sure, he listened to champ go on, reading over your impressive and extensive file, until he ran across a bit of information that shocked him half to death.

“She’s got a baby?” He huffed, incredulous.

“Yeah, little girl, her names Daisy May, she’s three. She’s sweeter than a peach, got Tequila and Ginger wrapped around her little finger already, and Momma is just as bad.” Champ chuckled, pouring them both a glass of Statesman’s finest while Jack stared at him intent on hearing every detail Champ was willing to offer. “Her late husband was a SEAL. Top ranking, special ops, very high up on the food chain. One day she goes out to grab dinner with the baby, comes back and he’s dead with a note pinned to his chest with her cover details written all over it. Tried to deal with it on her own, then after about two months she pulls the bottle her daddy- former agent Brandy god rest his soul- left her and called us up asking us to make her disappear. So we called our buddies at the CIA, got her cleared, and we’re doing it. She’s our-specifically your- problem until we can take out whoever blew her cover.”

Jack stared at the amber liquid in his glass and thought long and hard about that one. It’s a dark story, indicative of his own. “Where are we keeping her?” He sighs, swirling the liquid once more before shooting it.

“Well son, that’s up to you. If you wanna do a safe house, that’s fine. We can radio y’all in and use satellite to do the rest, or you can use the ranch. Familiar territory for you, plenty of security, and it means we can all look after her and the little one when necessary.” Champ sighs when Jack slides his glass back over to him.

“Where abouts they from?” Jack questions, “They gonna be ok living in a ranch or am I working with city slickers?”

“Oh no, She’s originally from Prestonsburg, she’s Floyd county born and raised. They were living in Texas though. Her husband was a Texan, moved to Austin to be closer to family and all that. She ain’t got anybody but an Aunt back home, but she’s an Eastern Kentucky girl. She grew up riding horses.” Jack’s eyebrows shot up to the brim of his hat at Champs little interlude.

“Well Shoot Champ, you really shot the shit with her huh?” He laughs.

“Her daddy was a friend, and she’s just like him. She’s a good girl, you’ll like her.” Champ nodded him to the door, and Jack took the dismissal in stride. Champ had high hopes, and Jack just hoped he was right.

Reflecting on it now, it’s laughable how skeptical he was. You were a picture of perfection. When he first met you, he knew, and Daisy put the bow on top of the package.

Funnily enough his horse introduced you, Tequila and Ginger were walking you around the distillery grounds, and had stopped to let you show Daisy the horses. He found you standing outside of a stall, specifically the stall of his horse, Coke. Coke is an Appaloosa with a blanket with spots. He’s not normally friendly with newcomers, having a stubborn streak a mile wide, but Jack was shocked to see you stood in front of the Horse’s stall with no issue. You had the baby propped on one hip, with her head on your shoulder and a thumb in her mouth, and Coke’s muzzle resting on the other. You were casually talking to Ginger while Tequila stared on shocked as you fondly stroked the horse’s muzzle. Normally, everyone knew not to turn their back on his horse, unless of course you were him. Coke was known to be a jester, and liked to nip at your hair or push you around with his muzzle, but there he stood, cozying up to a woman he just met today. He stood back and kept watching, seeing what the horse was up to. He heard the horse nicker and huff, moving his head to push towards the baby and you laughed, letting the curious animal nuzzle at the girl.

“Yeah big boy,” you patted his crest as he moved his head off your shoulder to let the baby stroke his muzzle, “yeah- gentle Daisy May, be nice- yeah big boy, that’s my Daisy, you like her? Yeah, that’s the baby, are you a good boy? hmm?” You talked to the horse and he watched as you pulled a sugar cube from the shelf next to the stall and let the girl feed it to Coke. The big horse oh-so-gently took the cube from the girl, tickling her palm and she giggled. The horse huffed through his nose and threw his head a bit and you laughed. “Oh ho ho! Well, you liked that huh? I’d give yah another big boy but I don’t know if your rider would take too kindly to me fattening up such a pretty stallion, bet you make all those pretty broodmares happy huh? Yeah.” You laugh as he whinnies.

“Well, He took a liking to you quick.” Jack called, making himself known and getting closer to the stall. “Ol’ Coke here is usually a temperamental fella.”

“Who, this guy?” You smirk as the horse huffs again at Daisy’s hair making her giggle. “Why no, he’s a sweet fella. Ain’t yah big boy?” The horse bobs his head as if nodding in agreement and Jack chuckles.

“Don’t let him fool yah,” Tequila grumbled, eyeing the horse warily, “That menace picks on anybody that ain’t him.” He pointed at Jack with a glare and Jack chuckled.

“Now don’t be bitter sunshine, you’re just mad that he pushed you into the water trough last summer.” Jack grinned at you with a wink and you laughed. Then the girl on your hip tugged at your hair a bit and whispered in your ear. Like most children though, Daisy was not a good whisperer.

“Mama, wook, Cowboy.” She mumbled around her thumb, pointing to Jack’s Stetson. Oh how his heart melted, he knew he was a goner then and there.

“Oh man,” you gasped, “you’re right! I bet this is his horsey.” You nodded and the girls eyes twinkled with wonder.

“Horsey pwetty.” She nodded sagely, “Ask him mumma, wanna ride him.” She had the biggest eyes, her tiny curls were barely contained by the pigtails her hair was in. She was a pretty little baby, and a carbon copy of her momma, dressed in little denim overalls and a pretty flowered shirt. She was cute, almost too cute, he didn’t know how he’d survive the next month or so with those big eyes pleading with him to give her anything she wanted, he knew he would be too weak to say no, he has a hard time picturing anyone saying no to her, not even her momma. Speaking of the mom, she was beautiful. She had on a beat up Vietnam tiger stripe jungle fatigue with a patch reading ‘Brandy’ rolled up to the elbows. Her T-shirt read ‘Kentucky Strong’ and he recognized it as one of those charity shirts that raised money for the flooding in Eastern Kentucky. She had aviators perched on her nose and two dog tags around her neck, one that was clearly older than the other, one for dad one for her husband if he had to guess. The best thing about the outfit though, was the shorts, those beautiful legs on full display, so good looking he had to pry his eyes off of her with the strength of ten men.

Jack jumped in all at once, “Am I a cowboy sweet baby? What gave me away? Was it the belt buckle?” He playfully tugged on it and gave an exaggerated frown, the girl giggled a no, and he pointed to his boots. “Oh, must’a been my boots!” He kicked up a heel to show off the worn brown leather boots. The girl squealed and laughed again, and you watched delighted that your baby was having so much fun.

“No!” Daisy laughed again clutching her hands together while she giggled. “No it was the hat!”

“Oh! Why silly me!” He breathed a fake sigh of relief, “I forgot it was up there sugar! Can’t be a cowboy without the hat!” The little girl laughed again in delight and he grinned back. Tequila and Ginger stared on shocked, Whiskey hadn’t been this carefree in a while, this little girl was working miracles. “Oh but I’ve gone and forgotten my manners,” Jack smacks his forehead dramatically “I never got your name Little lady! My name is Jack, what yours?” He extended a hand to the girl and she beamed, tucking her tiny hand in his.

“I’m Daisy!” She grinned, shaking his hand.

“Well, ain’t that just first class, you’re as pretty as a flower, so you must be Daisy!” He grinned at the delighted little girl, then whispered to her conspiratorially, “And who’s this?” He pointed at you and Daisy nodded, her mouth an ‘o’.

She introduced you and Jack smiled, tiling his hat to you, “Pretty name for a pretty lady, I’m Jack Daniel’s, code name Whiskey ma’am, pleased to make your acquaintance, and this here’s Coke.” He patted the horse’s flank as he stepped closer to you.

Your smile was just as magnetic as your daughter’s, and Jack felt his knees buckle, “Pleased to meet you Whiskey, Jack and Coke is my favorite combo, so I got high hopes this’ll be a good arrangement.”

And it was, y’all got on like a house on fire, and now he was very used to having you in his home. He hadn’t invited anyone into his space like this since his wife died. He couldn’t find the appeal in it, but there was something about you and this little girl he couldn’t seem to shake.

You were more than willing to tackle any task, and it was one of the things that he enjoyed most about you. In the months you had been there you helped around the Ranch any way you could. Jack had gotten used to doing the chores on his own, but he was suprised by how easily you worked yourself into his routine. It wasn’t a big Ranch, it was near the distillery in Oldham county, right smack in the middle between Louisville and La Grange. The ranch hosted his three horses, six chickens, two barn cats, and about 10 or so cows. In the mornings, you were up just as early as him, you alternated putting on the coffee, then he would deal with the horses (Coke, Julep, and Sazerac. You got a big kick out of their names, and he loved how you chuckled anytime he mentioned them.) and the cows, and you fed the chickens and the barn cats (Tom and Jerry, all the whiskey themed names). When you finished gathering eggs and greeting the cats, he would come back to you bouncing the baby on your hip while cooking breakfast.

“Well, you feed my animals and make my eggs, aren’t you handier than a pocket on a shirt.” He grinned one morning and you rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

“Well Cowboy, someone’s gotta feed you, black coffee and a Marlboro red aren’t breakfast, and they never will be.”

You were also a brilliant agent. Once you were settled, you and Jack started digging into anything you could find about the people who killed your husband, and you proved yourself an invaluable asset in intel gathering. You dug up more in a single hour than some men hoped to find in a lifetime, but it took its toll on you for sure. Day in day out combing over your husband’s files and trappings, staring at the inner mechanisms of his whole life and wonder what it would be like if he was here to finish all of his loose ends. He understood, and he hated that he couldn’t just take the pain for you, but it was a comfort to the both of you to have someone to talk to.

“Oh, the first week after his funeral was hell,” you sighed, playing with your daughters curls as she slept peacefully on your lap in the evening sun, “I kept trying to call him, to vent with him about how scared and tired I was, only to be reminded this wasn’t a deployment or a buissness trip, he was just… gone. Daisy was a mess too, cried for him every night, wouldn’t sleep until I showed her this video of him saying he loved her that he made her when he went on deployment. It broke my heart.” You sniffled and Jack felt his heart ache with sympathy.

“I know all about that hurt,” he sighed, handing you a beer and settling next to you on the big wrap around porch, “I’d keep rolling over and reaching for her in the middle of the night, I’d touch the cold sheets and I’d remember and it would hurt me every time.”

“Oh god yeah, took me weeks before I could truly sleep on my own again, I used to put one of his shirts on his pillow and sleep with it, it was the only way I could get myself to bed.” You sighed, nodding and sipping the drink.

“I used to spray her perfume on her pillow,” Jack nodded, “When I ran out I forced myself to sleep without it, It was months before I could get a full nights rest again.”

“I couldn’t imagine having to deal with all that alone,” you grimaced, “I at least had Daisy, I hate that you’re alone.”

“Well, I was alone, but I’m not anymore, I got you.” He slung an arm around your shoulder and you basked in the sun together until Jack felt you go lax in his grip. You had fallen asleep in his grasp, and he was shocked at how good it felt to have you be so vulnerable around him. It melted something in his chest. What was he gonna do with you.

You and Daisy just kept growing on him. His life was no longer just solitude and shoot outs, now it was a little more tea parties and tag and it was a very welcome change. You both had him wrapped around your fingers, every moment he wasn’t spending working on the project with you, or with Ginger and Tequila at Statesman, he was with you and your little girl.

One evening you were playing a game of tag, when Daisy just about caused them both a heart attack. You were running around and chasing each other in the small creek out the back of the ranch. Daisy was a doll in her little floral one piece, her wet hair plastered to her forehead and her little feet splashing away. You were a sight too, a black bathing suit with a cut out under your breasts showing off an ornamental tattoo that he really just wanted to-

“Come on Dada, catch me!” Time froze when the little girl said it and your jaws dropped, when you finally met each others gaze, you snapped out of it and turned to your daughter.

“No sweetie, that’s-“ you tried but the little girl cut you off.

“I know mumma. It’s otay though, Dada is no here, so this is my OTHER dada. It’s otay to have two dada.” She smiled and meandered to Jack, squeezing him in a hug. The little girl was barely knee high to a grass hopper, but she had hit him with that bombshell so hard she might as well have been a giant. Then, she just toddled off, finding interest in the stream once more, gathering rocks.

“Darlin I’m so sor-“ he began and you waved it away.

“Don’t worry Jack, she’s three. She adores you, and her only other frame of reference for a consistent male presence is her dad. Besides, if she had to pick another father figure, I’d want it to be you.” With that, you went to go stop her from tormenting a frog, and he stood there like a statue. The way you so casually said that amazed him, you put so much unwarranted faith in him, and it made the hardened cowboy turn to mush. Whatever this turns out to be though, one thing is for sure. He would do anything in the world for you and that little girl, and this just drove it home.

Weeks passed and you all just continued to get closer. Daisy asked for him as often as she did for you now when she’s upset, and he was now totally attached to their evening ritual of snuggling on the couch and watching Bluey. Every day you got closer and closer, and every day you found out more and more about your husbands killer, which ultimately led you to today.

Jack had left early, sun not even being up and the morning dew had just barely settled over the grass. Jack had gotten the mission from Ginger last night, and you had prepped and planned with him until he swore the plans were tattooed on the back of his eyelids.

It was over quick, he took them out and got his necessary intel and now you were safe. No blown cover, no second attempt at murder, just efficiency.

You’re free. You could go anywhere you want and you’d be safe. Where would you go? Your aunt was in Pburg, not too far off, a couple of tolerable hours away. Your late husband’s family though… they were in Texas, and that was more of a stretch.

This was miserable, thinking of all the ways you would leave him, though you weren’t even his to begin with. You were never his, you were just his charge, someone he was meant to protect, you and that perfect little girl. He got so caught up in it, he forgot to protect himself, and now he was faced with an old companion he never wanted to see again, loneliness.

He finally pulled up to the ranch, and Coke and the others were grazing in the first paddock near the front of the house, until the clever horse sees him and trots over with something in his teeth. It was a little stuffed rabbit, Coke had it by the ear and dropped it in his outstretched palm. It was like another painful reminder of what comes next. What would he do when his life was no longer bows and bunny rabbits. How would he go back to the way things were before. He sighed and made his way into the house, he was somewhat confused to see the front room totally empty. Normally, you’d be feeding the baby at this time, she would be sat in in the booster seat he’d bought for the kitchen table, in the little pink bib she always wore, probably making a mess, but then she’s squeal and wave at him and tell him to ‘come sit cowboy! I share!’ You’d laugh and tell her he had his own to eat, and she would frown and say ‘mine better!’ Today though, the kitchen was quiet and he felt his heart hammering in his chest, had you already gone? Were you so excited to be rid of him? But no, there was the sound of a shower, his shower specifically. He wandered into his room, and the sight there strengthened his resolve and told him that he needed to buck up and tell you how he feels, because he never wanted to sacrifice this.

Daisy was laying on his pillow, the stuffed horse toy that was an exact replica of Coke was tucked up under her chin, and she contentedly snored away on top of his quilt. The only light in the room was from the lamp on his bedside table, and a sliver leaking out from the cracked door to his bathroom. He carefully tucked the little girls blank is up over her chin, and listened to you humming from the shower. He was used to sharing his bathroom with you, normally you used the one near your room, but when you needed to shower and Daisy was napping, you preferred to use his so you could hear her if she cried. The warm smell of your shampoo was wafting from the bathroom, and your clothes were laid out on his bed. He ran a hand over them with a soft smile, the whole thing just felt so domestic. The sleeping child, the woman in his shower, the three sets of boots by his door, the pictures on his fridge. They all just felt so natural, filling his empty space with the feeling of home.

“Jack? Cowboy? Is that you?” You called from the bathroom.

“Yeah Sugar, it’s me.” He called back softly, padding his way into the bathroom and leaning up against the sink.

“How’d it go Whiskey? Did all go to plan?” He heard the hopefulness in your voice.

“Yeah sweetness, we did it. You’re free.” He could hear you pause at the melancholy in his voice and he was kicking himself. ‘Don’t ruin this for her Jacky, she should be happy.’ He heard the water kick off and handed you your Terry cloth robe and a towel. Once you were decent, you opened the curtain.

“You say that, but why does it sound like you just signed my warrant?” You asked curiously, squeezing the ends of your hair with a towel. He hadn’t realized how comfortable you had gotten around each other, but he supposed he shouldn’t be all that shocked. All the small touches, the snuggles, then tender moments. He was addicted to them now, and he never wanted to kick the habit.

“Well, I reckon you’d wanna get back to your life now there ain’t a target on your back.” He sighs, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair.

“Oh Jack,” you chuckled and his head whipped up when your palms came to rest on his cheeks. “These past few moths have been some of the happiest moments of my life since my husband passed. My daughter loves you, you are so good with her, she’s had nothing but smiles and laughter. You make my days better, you make me happy.” You caressed his cheek and he was hanging on to your every word, staring into those beautiful eyes he dreamed after these days. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it clearer baby, you’ll have to pardon me for that, Lord knows I’ve been a little scattered, but I have my life, it’s right here, with you. That is, if you’ll have me.”

He was stunned, here in his arms he held everything he never thought he’d have when his wife died. A beautiful woman, a sweet baby, laughter, light, and maybe even love. “Oh honey,” he gasped, pulling you in and finally kissing you like he’s wanted to since he saw you that first day in the stables. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me from you and that little girl.” You giggled and kissed him again, and again. When you finally broke away, you grinned up at him, and in this moment if you had asked him to kill an army of a thousand, he would have asked you what time you wanted him home for dinner.

“Well then cowboy? Why don’t you get gussied up and we can celebrate our new beginnings. Together.”

[accio-victuuri]

let’s start the new year with some good old cpn!

so glad that yibo’s stages all went well! as expected from a performer like him. i was kinda nervous that a bad hot search will come out but it was all good. from people being touched with his/dls song, wanghan crying, his clothes, the bystander stage, his high ratings and him seeing the green sea. i’m sorry to the other celebrities who got smeared in the hs but that’s just how it is, better luck next year.

now onto the clownery, if you clown today, it means you will continue to do so for the rest of the new year.. so proceed with caution 😂😂😂😂

starting with the most obvious one are the photos from yibo-official and the effect it gave — it was so little prince. something they both have connection with and a favorite among turtles. international or not, it’s already there and we are not the only ones who noticed the reference.

also the similarity to xz’s weibo night ( their wedding day outfits lol ) effect and little prince look. 👀

another “similarity” is this right here. i like how wyb is in black and xz in white because in cql wyb was the one in white for lwj and xz in black. and the drumming!!! 🥁

during the countdown, WYB was doing the chongya pose. similar to XZ. awwww. i love that this has really become their thing now, tho it really originated more with XZ. even if they didn’t spend it together, they still do it. they have the same hopes and attitude for the new year!

in the subject of the countdown, some are commenting on this incident where wyb didn’t hug the girl/s who were moving closer to him. lol. he is married! what are you all doing? 😂😂😂 kidding aside, i think that a part of it is he is not familiar with them. the girl’s skin was also exposed so maybe he didn’t wanna touch inappropriately. and well, he is wang yibo. people will slice and dice all his public interactions so he is also being careful so people won’t misunderstand.

another thing that fans were looking into was the type of flower he was wearing as a brooch! lol. turns out it’s a ginger flower and it means to keep memories in summer forever. ginger flowers bloom in May-June in summer. the flowers are pure white, the fragrance is refreshing when blooming, and the flowering period is very long.It's short-lived, but it's also accompanied by beautiful memories.

i’m sure we’re over interpreting here lol. but whatever. it’s the summer we remember! 🤍

THIS PART IS NOT CPN BUT TO MENTION THE TIMES the cpf related light signs made an appearance on the screen. So there is a small screen in the venue where they can zoom in on the audience and some of the stuff that made it there were cpf light signs. not to say that these people understand the reference, maybe they found it interesting so they focused on it.

you may have also noticed the lone red and green headbands in this scene! lol. as a casual viewer, you won’t be paying attention to it and if you notice, you won’t even know what they are. but it means something to us and it’s nice to see representation.

and this one, i’m pretty sure he saw that huge ass turtle light sign! 😂😂😂

Disclaimer: i am not trying to undermine what his so/os did today to make sure the green sea was there for him to see. they have worked hard and i’m sure yibo appreciated them showing up for him. this is a cpn post so i would post cpf related stuff.

Lastly, fans have tried to send them a message on weibo and this time there is an automatic reply of them giving a happy new year message ☺️

-END.

[jmvore]

Kisses, Cuddles, & Everything in Between 💖

› pairing(s) » cat hybrid!jimin x f!reader x bunny hybrid!jungkook › word(s) » 1.2k+ › warning(s) » cuddles, soft kisses, reader dealing with things and needing reassurance, not insecurity but just being overwhelmed, anxiety, so much love in one room, ai pictures of Jungkook & Jimin (obvi). › cc's playlist » love is you by chrisette michelle › a/n » thank you @/lostsozai for the dividers!

Jimin's purrs are lower and deeper than usual as the rain falls against the roof and windows. It creates a low soothing rhythm the feels equivalent to the beat of your heart. He has his head laid in your lap, all the while, his legs are stretched to accommodate the three of you. His fingers lazily trace over your mid-thigh tattoo, playing with your fingers to try and calm you. His way of trying to soothe you.

 Jungkook watches both of you closely, his long bunny ears slumped rather than standing tall because he can sense the awful mood you’re in. He knows you’re having a bad day and you know Jimin can sense it too. Your scent has been bitter and all they want to do is return it to its normal state. You know that's the reason why they’re clinging to you, hoping it'll help you feel better.

 “You know we’re here for you, Noona. Always and Forever,” Jungkook whispers, holding your waist tighter as he traces the intricate lines of your tattoo that travel down your arm. He lets you curl into his warmth to sulk and kisses the shell of your ear as a way of trying to comfort you. It seems to be working when he can hear your sobs turn into sniffles. “It’s gonna be okay.”

 “I-I know…” Your voice sounds broken as it catches in your throat. Your leg shakes as you take a deep breath to try and calm the anxiety building in your chest. You take to looking out of the window, seeing a family of four across the street trying their best to get out of the rain. It makes you chuckle, just a little even as you’re trying your hardest to hold back more tears. 

 Your heart feels heavy as if it’s sitting right on your chest cavity. You can’t breathe… Your brain feels as if it’s malfunctioning but you know you have to soldier on. Not only for your sake but for theirs too. You just wish Namjoon was here too but sadly, he had to work. He left with promises of bringing your favorite food home. You knew you couldn’t beg him not to go to work seeing as there’s a huge case he’s working on and he can’t take off at the moment. 

 As if sensing your inner turmoil, Jimin sits up to face you as it takes you by surprise. 

“We love you…” He mumbles, crawling to put himself right between your legs so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck to scent. He knows it doesn’t really work seeing as you’re not a hybrid and you don’t have a scent gland but it makes him feel better knowing his and Jungkook’s scents somehow calms down your spike. You do have a faint natural scent, however. It’s a soft spicy cinnamon scent that merges well with the rich aroma of Jimin’s caramel and apple as well as Jungkook’s ginger scent and since Namjoon’s faint honeyed scent lingers in the air, it’s the only thing keeping both of them from breaking down with you. 

You continue to pet the top of Jimin’s hair and comb your fingers right between his pretty blond and black cat ears. It’s cute how he closes his eyes to feel, rubbing his nose against your next and holding on to for dear life. He’s happy and content and now he just wants you to be too.

“I love you both…” You try your best muster up a smile to let them know you’re going to be fine but it ends up looking more like a grimace.  

“When hyung gets home we can all cuddle in bed,” Jimin proposes as Jungkook eagerly nods at his plan. That’s All you wanted to distract you from what’s going anyway. To keep you from crying your heart out more. “Noona…?”

“That sounds good.” You kiss Jimin’s forehead before laying your head back on Jungkook’s chest to try and breathe.  

“Are you at least feeling better?” 

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Jimin huffs, shuffling in his place to sit up to sit back on his legs. His hands are on either side of your face as he stares you right in the eyes. He’s been trying his best not to cry with you, Knowing Jungkook can’t handle it because he’ll burst into tears too. You try to look away but he holds your face in place as he squishes your cheeks and pouts. It makes your lips poke out like a blow-fish and both of them giggle at it. When they see you’re not laughing with them, however, Jimin sighs. 

“We’ll get through this together. I know it hurts and I know you’re trying to hold it together but it’s okay to cry. To let go. You can do that in front of us and we’ll be here to hold you and encourage you to keep going.”

“We’ll be here to help you keep going,” Jungkook says, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. Jungkook catches your eye, his smile almost blinding as the sun. His and Jimin’s eyes sparkle with so many stars it looks like your own personal galaxy that it makes you laugh to keep from breaking down more. Not from sadness, at least not anymore. But from the fact that you have two loving hybrids who want to make sure you’re happy and healthy.

[cephei-ea]

Genshin - Argument Pt1

Characters: Diluc, Ch*lde, Dainsleif

Genre: angst, HCs

Synopsis: you walk out during an argument, when the guys say something hurtful.

Warnings: yelling, cursing, mentions of assault, mugging and murder/kidnapping, ch*lde (ginger) content, I REALIZED right after writing Diuc’s part that I’d gotten carried away so the rest after him are shorter

THIS IS UNEDITED EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES🙏

___

Diluc

* Y’all were arguing over him overworking himself.

* You we’re just concerned for his health, but he just wasn’t seeing it from your perspective.

* After all, it wasn’t you who was spending all of your hours, well into the morning and hardly getting any sleep, any food, any rest, for the past month.

* You’d brought up the concern to him before, but all he would do is brush you off and insist you’re overreacting.

* Tell you that he’d be done soon,

* to not worry.

* Only to return to his work immediately like he hadn’t just promised to put down his pen.

* File after file after document after signature, you both knew it was exhausting, but the man was too used to his old bad habits

* One day, you decided to bring it up again, seeing the cold plate of food you left for him on the table hours ago

* And the deep purple bags beneath his eyes.

Smoothing your lithe fingers along his shoulder blades and dragging them up towards his shoulders, where you pause to massage his muscles for a moment. The man sighs and temporarily puts down the pen, rubbing a hand down the curves of his tired face and placing the other on yours, against his shoulder.

“Darling, come to bed?” He finally turns and solemnly shakes his head, even after seeing the sadness taking its place in your eyes. “Please?” You plead, softly brushing a strand of right red hair behind his ear. “You’ve been working enough.” The man leans into your touch; but furrows his brows.

“I can’t. The winery needs remodeling and all kinds of attention. It’s not just any work, and surely none that I can ignore.” He stands and calmly exits the room, leaving you behind, still staring at his chair with an irritation in your eyes he had failed to note. You take a breath in and quietly blow it out through your mouth, a weak attempt at calming yourself. Diluc is filling a tall glass with water and sipping it with closed eyes when you enter. The moon behind him reflects through the window and makes him glow; beautiful.

“Diluc we haven’t gone to sleep together in weeks. Please. I’ll help you in the morning, but I can’t let you lose so much sleep.” You plead again, stepping toward him to coax him away from his never ending work. He shrugs you off almost instantly.

“Listen!-“ he sighs after his short outburst. “Just leave me be, I don’t need you meddling in my work. It has nothing to do with you.” Your brows knit together, a crease forming above the bridge of your nose. “Don’t concern yourself, just go to bed and I’ll join you later.” His replies were curt, and bland, lighting the flame underneath your emotions.

“M…” you began— but the words caught in your throat before your mouth could catch up. “Meddling?” On your lovers part, he wasn’t doing much better handling the stress than you. He couldn’t explain why he was pushing you away, he needed you now most. You were the only one he’d allow close to him and the only one who could calm him. But as of then, he was getting irritated, likely a result of his sleep depreciation and his grip on his glass tighten. More and more until he couldn’t compress the glass any farther without hurting himself and you. “Diluc what are you on right now?” The man let out a shaky breath. His mind no longer on the fact that he had so much work to do. “Why are you being an ass to me right now?” You sniffled. The lights seemed to grow dimmer, a thick tension settling between you two, as rare as it was.

“I’m getting angry and I don’t want to yell at you, just leave me alone and stop being so overbearing. I can’t stand it.” Your pot of emotions began to boil.

“What the fuck did you just-“ the loud screech of glass shattering, landing and then disordered and scattered across the walnut wooded floors interrupted you. This followed the brassy slosh of water that dropped in place and spilled sloppily around the room. A hand of yours shot to your mouth, eyes now wide after feeling a painful sear across the skin of your abdomen. You grunt, a high pitched hum he seemed to miss. Soon after the disruption ensued the near quiet drops of blood against the glass below your lover as his hand bled from the gashes across his palm. You felt one yourself, the trickle of red hot blood slipping down your hip— one of them must have knicked you. His hand bled profusely, but he only squeezed it into a fist. The limit to how much you could take had long been crossed, and now, you felt unsafe. He opened his mouth to speak but he didn’t have time to convey his message, you’d left the room entirely, a hand at your waist as you hurried out of the room. It took your lover a moment to catch up, and when he did, he was hauling ass to the front doors, only to find them wide open and you nowhere in sight. Frantically, the man had searched high and low around the winery for you. Inside and out, had very maid and every butler on the look out— all while regretting what he’d done; repeating the same cursed over and over. Demeaning himself for hours on end. Diluc Rgnvindr, for the first time in years, was a wreck.

It was late at night when your lover finally gave up, opting to wait you out and having faith that you would return to him. Diluc was sitting on a couch near the fireplace, his hands intertwined and supporting the rest of his head. His leg was bouncing like a cheap washing machine, eyes fixed on the dim fire light and his brain fixed on you. What might have happened to you late at night, your eyesight impaired by the darkness and without your weapon or armor. Wearing nothing but your clothing for bed. The thought made his short fingernails dig so deeply into his bones that new beads of crimson pooled at his skin. Maybe you’d gone to a friends house. You were probably safe.

But what if you weren’t?

And what if you were in danger?

Or even worse— what if you never returned?

Childe

* The argument started when he returned home with even more injuries than last time.

* You’d had this argument before and Childe knew by the way your hands trembled and you bit your lip,

* You weren’t happy having to patch him up again.

* Placing away the medical kit, Childe stood from your shared bed and limped over to hug you from behind.

* It escalated so quickly, the ginger hardly had time to react.

* You shoved him off, immediately wiping the tears that pooled when he couldn’t see your face

* “Babe?”

* You immediately yell at him. “NO.” your smaller shoulders quivering as tears streamed down your face. He wished he could see you.

* “You promised me!! You swore to god!!”

* You were right, he thought. He’d given you his word that he would take better care of himself.

* But what did that matter when he needed to fill his quota for the week? The Tsaritsa is relentless.

* “I know babe but you don’t have to yell at me. Just calm down.”

* “Calm down!?”

* Suddenly you got beef with a ginger 💀

Childe placed a hand on his head, dragging his palm down his face and rubbing the crease between his brows with a thumb. You wouldn’t listen. Not when you were upset like this. But after relentlessly fighting for hours, he didn’t have the energy for this. Not now. Not tonight. The lights overhead suddenly felt all too bright, urging on the pounding in his head.

“Ajax, I mean are you even fucking listening to me!!?? Why must you always have the attitude of a child when I’m being serious right now!” His teeth ground, fists clenched.

“I don’t need your nagging right now.” His voice was quiet. And by that alone, you knew he was irritated. But with the countless sleepless nights and migraines; worrying about where the love of you life could possibly be at those ungodly hours of the night. Wondering if he was even alive and only receiving your answer in the morning, when you would find him passed out on the floor, bleeding profusely from injuries that littered his skin. Soon to be scars soaked the carpet beneath him a crimson red you’d almost gotten used to; had it not been for the endeavors of your lover.

“I don’t want you to fucking die how is that nagging, Ajax!!??” Having to spend hours cleaning out Tartaglia’s blood from your carpet was traumatizing, your hands would often be stained red with his blood by the time you finished, late into the night.

His wounds hurt. Was it the stress or irritation that caused the aching beneath his skin; he didn’t know.

“I’d rather ‘fucking die’ than have to put up with you every day.” He whispered in a tone he could have sworn was quiet enough. When you didn’t snap back immediately, the eleventh harbinger feared for the worst. Turning to you fully now, he searched your face for any clue of what you may have been thinking. He merely found trickling tears at your jaw and a crease above the bridge of your nose. “Wait, hold on, I didn’t mean th-“ you storm past your lover, closing your bedroom door behind you when you enter, as if that’ll stop him. He enters not long after to find you already with a duffel bag half filled and your left hand wiping tears away from your skin. Lip trembling pathetically. He panics; he hadn’t realized the potency of the effects of his words and what they could do to you. “Hey, nonono! Put down the bag, cmere. Baby, please-“ he pressed the bag into the bed and pulled you away from it, into his chest despite your protests.

“Childe, I swear to god get your hands off me.”

“No, I’m sorry. No, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said, love, I never would say something like that to you-“ He was cut short when you shoved away from him, glaring indignantly into his softened, yet concerned, blue eyes and spinning away soon after. You booked it out the door, before he even realized your absence, you’d already grabbed your car keys, slipped on the easiest pair of boots and coat and were unlocking the front door. Oh how Childe wished he were quicker. The moment the door slides open and he’s almost caught up to you, hears the rush of some of the hardest rainfall you’d gotten in months. A few lightning strikes flashed in the distance and with one last look from you, you slammed the door behind you and left.

“Fine then. Wouldn’t want you to die.” Childe could have sworn he was ready to cry. He’d been too late by just a second or two and he ends up slamming his fists against the door. The Fatui was fast, however, and violently swung open the door as quickly as he could. A mere few seconds after you’d left. The scowl on his face deepened and the panic in his eyes had set. You were long gone. The ginger sprinted for the garage, only to find the door wide open and your expensive car missing. He didn’t mind the pouring rain soaking him or the gravely concrete beneath his feet. The only thing he could focus on was your absence and the storm you had driven off in and how he remembered he was going to mention you needed to get your brakes checked. They seemed to have been acting up as of late.

“FUCK.” The man cursed deeply, looking around frantically to make sure he hadn’t missed you. Maybe your car was being repaired and you were still here? The only way to avoid his worst case scenario, Ajax believed, was to not allow the opportunity to present itself. For the first time in a while, Childe was reminded of how damn sudden loss was. How it could happen at any moment to anyone for any reason and the panicking man would have no clue until after it were too late. He’d forgotten.

He’d forgotten to appreciate you.

He’d forgotten how he had no time to waste fighting with his loved ones. Especially with you. And with this in mind, Tartaglia booked it inside for the keys to his Rolls Royce. The sleek black car he’d picked out with you beeping when he unlocked it. And though sitting in the car that had infinitely too many memories of you for him to handle, if he wanted to ensure the creation of more memories, the ginger had no choice but to drive until he found himself driving you home.

Dainselif

* This poor man was sitting by the fire for hours, mind plagued by the idea that he would inevitably lose you one day.

* However, instead of saddening him, it only angered him.

* The stick he had been playing with snapped between his fingers, a clear demonstration of his frustrations.

* Hearing the rather loud snap across the hall as you readied your shared bed for the night, you looked up.

* Why was your lover still up? With the fire on, no less?

* You stalked over to the fireplace, only to find him hunched over and leaned on his knees like he was crying.

* You rushed over and lifted his head.

* “Don’t touch me.” He couldn’t stand the feeling of your skin on his, despite his crippling addiction to it.

* If he enjoyed it too much, the loss would only be worse.

“Dain? Love what’s wrong?” Your voice was filled with concern that Dainsleif found irritating. He almost never angered. And when he did, he tended to push you and everyone else away.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” His anger was concise, his tone snapping at you so harshly that you saddened. He’d always been sure to lace his words with the sweetest of sugar, to make sure he wouldn’t scare you off. Hearing it without the love it usually had told you something was very wrong.

“Dainsleif don’t push me away, please.” You sat beside him and Dainsleif felt like he was losing his mind. Maybe it was foolish, but he never intended on caring so much for someone. Much less falling in love. His love for you had grown dangerously deep. In that he would kill for you. He would find a way to take his own life if you commanded it of him. He would play dead until the end of time. The sofa dipped beside him and he clenched his fist.

“Just stop.” His voice was hushed. “Leave me alone.” He raised his voice at you, which he never did. Clearly, he was very upset, but if he wouldn’t let you know what it was that caused this outburst, you couldn’t help. It was so unlike him to act this way.

“Dainsleif don’t you dare raise your voice at me. I’m here to help you not for you to take our anger out on. Just tell me what happened and-“

“I wish you would just disappear.” And of course Dainsleif didn’t mean it literally. But he’d never felt so terrified. He wished the feeling of vulnerability away; not you. Never you. Not ever in millions of life times would he ever be able to wish you away.

“Oh yeah?” You sighed, standing immediately and walking to the door. The blonde was very fast in realizing his mistake, lifting his head to look at you. By the time he could even stand, you were up and walking out of the door. His heart pounded like a drum in his chest, his chest aching beneath his skin. “Goodbye Dainsleif.” You would never leave the love of your life. Of course you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. But you wanted to at least get back at him. For making your heart crack after you’d placed it so carefully in his palm. You throw a jacket over your shoulders and bolt out the door. Surely the traveler will be able to hook you up with a nice place to stay, after all, he’d always been so kind to you.

Now, it took Dainsleif all too long to realize that you were actually gone. He lifted his head in a feeble search for you, still hardly able to process the fact that you’d abandoned him. If you looked him in the eyes and asked him why he truly said those things to you, he would be speechless. The moment his hazy thoughts were able to piece together what was happening, he sprinted to the door, hoping that if he opened it, you’d still be there. Alas, his hopes were for naught and the realization that you’d abandoned him, and that it was his fault, knocked the air out of him. The fear he had acted upon had come to life, and Dainsleif could swear to Celestia that he couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t sure what he would do if you didn’t return quickly. And even if you didn’t, Dainsleif would sit on the couch for centuries, waiting for you until you returned for him to place against his awaiting lips. Exactly where you’d left him, head in his hands and tears threatening to fall at any second.

A/N:

I realize this is very very late and I apologize

I didn’t expect my workload to increase by so much