#Cut Straight Wire

[anpingdongmingwiremesh]

Loop Tie Wire

Anping Dongming Wiremesh Co.,Ltd offers high-quality loop tie wire, a flexible way to secure and fasten things in crops and building applications. Our loop tie wire, which is made of strong components, provides consistent and strong connections. Loop tie wire is a perfect option for securing fencing or bundling rebars.

Phone No. +86-15131872040

Email: sales@wiremeshdm.com

Address: Industrial Park, Anping, Hebei, China 053600

[spencerbegins]

they didn't cut my wires short enough and i didn't notice until after i already left oh my god ouch

[icannotgetoverbirds]

I'M FREE BITCHES

PERMANENT RETAINERS BEGONE

[bunnyb34r]

AUGH Our power is FINALLY back on!

It was fucking out for 48 excruciating hours and we were told Sunday our power could be out until TUESDAY

I think if it was out for one more fucking day I'd have lost my goddamn mind

[sagesparrow394]

Hetch, making Sneeg’s mind control wiring: Let’s put it in a hat and force him to wear it

Hetch, making Charlie’s: Cut open his head. Put it straight in his brain. Drill glasses into the side of his skull. Make it impossible to remove. Fuck this guy in particular.

[starlooove]

Would be so cool if Batman beyond leaned a lot into the cyberpunk thing

[spurbleu]

oldman!price x reader angsty (?) drabble

‧︎✳︎༚︎‧︎⁎︎°︎

age leaves john price in tantrum.

he despises what it’s done to his body. the creak in his knees when he walks, the strain in his shoulder when he reaches across the table. steam engine, ironclad and coal hot, neglected the rust on the belly of its stirrups. adopted a sudden fragility he cannot stand.

takes a literal force of nature to get him to retire, and he grieves it like a father. it, in all honesty, was one. taught him how to shoot straight, how to hold his men, how to be without feeling like he’s an imposter in his own skin. forced him to grow up- which is ironically exactly what ended their alliance.

nursed whiskeys, fattened ice kissing the base. smoked like somehow- fossilized in ligero- he’d find his youth again. blistered under reluctant mortality, indulged in fatal vices because if anything is putting him in the grave it’s a gun or a cigar.

a pot never boils watched, yet you stay at your designated post by the doorway while he broods (he’s a dramatic at heart), storm clouds stamped on the collapse of his shoulders.

if you were one of his soldiers, you let him fester.

but you were his wife.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t aged yourself, silver linings sprouting from your scalp, sun spots and bleached knuckles. even so, you found time to pick up his medications, comb through amateur food blogs for gut health and bone pain, roll the aches out of his shoulder before bed. you were kind- and it was insulting.

spitfire catching on the burs of his muttonchops- unfamiliar with dependence. he was a captain for Christ’s sake- alloy lighthouse, built by cement and sheer fucking will. he didn’t need to be hand fed vitamin C and dragged to yoga class. he pitched barbed wire, dug his shallow trench and intended lay in it.

until, one evening, thunder strikes him out of dewy acrimony. he clambers up the stairs, musk of tobacco and spite plants a grimy boot in the oak. he glances over the railing, and stills.

bathroom door, cutting swaddled atmosphere with thin bisque, a pyramid down the center of the hall that created the illusion of darker corners. centered in the odd, domestic scaffolding was you- shower damp and concentrated.

it was like watching a bird preen feathers. tugging at the sags, yanking at the silvers, skin pitching at the nostril and eyes narrowing into thin keyways. and if he squinted, sniper accuracy rendered tears. sallow river bed on your flushed cheeks, clumped lashes, a frown that broke hearts.

“you’re never struggling alone, John,” you had said one evening, when he had been foolishly apathetic, “i’ll make sure of that.”

he hadn’t said anything.

guilt squirms at the base of his neck. the stranger named comfort that swelled within your embrace unnerved him so much he had forgotten to introduce himself. and now, milking moonlit lighting, with a wife who thought he was hiding from her, he called himself what he had never been as a soldier.

a coward.

you were making tea the next morning, windows surrendering a warmth when the day was still docile. it was while you were humming that your husband, sneaky bastard, folds you into the plush of his chest, drowsy lips dragging on the cusp of your shoulder.

“you always look so beautiful in the mornin, darlin.”

and it was true. you’ve never looked better to the old man.

[a-killer-obsession]

OKAY I DID IT, I FIGURED OUT THE LAYOUT

Disclaimer: it seems like the size of the ship changes every time we see it, but the newest eps vs wano seem pretty consistent so I went with that and used Wire's height for scale

Floor layouts under the cut ✂️

Edit: you can find clearer/more detailed versions here

Layout based on the 31 member crew that Oda confirmed. I also took in to account that a significant portion of the members are fucking massive, so everything is bigger which matches the scale it's drawn in. Floors are approx 5m high with 2m wide doors in most places, which makes sense when a good portion of the crew are 3m tall.

Sorry about my handwritting lmao I'm so tired but I have serious brainworms and couldn't sleep

The specifics:

Kid's Floor

Of course he has his own floor

Quarters include his own private dining space which I imagine would also include a workdesk, bedroom with king sized bed and probably a couch, walk in closet, and bathroom definitely large enough for a massive tub

Workshop also has bathroom entrance for when he's feelin lazy

Ladder space in the middle goes straight through, this is so crew going to the castle deck don't access his floor

Commander's floor

Heat, Wire and Killer have their own rooms and a private lounge just for them and Kid

Heat and Wire share a large bathroom, definitely big enough for normal bath

Heat and Killer have king sized beds, Wire's bed is almost as wide as a king but mostly it's made especially long

Small decking that runs the whole way around, unspoken rule that crew aren't allowed there since windows peer into commander's rooms

Killer could probably fit a drumkit in his room 👀

Cannon Deck

We get peeks of this in the anime and in Oda's notes but they're fuzzy so I just did my best

Made a mistake tho, cannon platform should be whole way around back like a U shape to account for 3 cannons facing backwards, total 9 cannons

Theoretically this is where the helm should be so uh that's where I put it

Screenshots make it look like they also store a lot of other weapons here

Main deck

Forecastle includes navigation room with bookcases, central table, and desk for paperwork

Forecastle also has infirmary with two longer than normal beds to account for larger crewmates, and a desk for crew doctor to keep notes

Door between nav and infirmary cos Kid is lazy

Kitchen and pantry. Given the rooms are 5m from floor to ceiling I imagine that pantry would have a small mezzanine accessed by a ladder to take advantage of vertical space (and would be a sick place to nap)

Galley/dining hall contains 3 bench style tables, seating 10 large crewmates each, with one extra fancy chair at the end of one for Kid

Lower deck

Did my best to do some math to figure out how many larger than normal beds were required and decided on 6 bunks for 12 larger crewmates

Additional rooms for average sized crewmates include 4 rooms with 2 bunks each, and one room with 1 bunk, making for a total of 30 beds below deck. That means, counting the commanders for the 31, there are currently 3 empty beds, so a few rooms aren't complete full

Probably looks like fuck all space but its actually significant for a ship living quarters

According to google you only need 1 toilet per 10 people and 1 shower per 40 but that seems like BS. Bathroom has 4 large, accessible sized toilets, 4 showers, long benches down the center and a long counter with plenty of space and mirrors for makeup, given how many crewmates wear it

Also, storage room. Could be converted to extra room for another bunk

Hold

Access via ladder

4 cells. No toilets, you get a bucket ✌️ tbh might not even have beds but there's room for em anyway

Desk in case they need to keep an eye on prisoners

3 storage rooms, but i think one of these would actually be a torture room. Probably the one by the desk.

Mechanisms for power and water are probably in one of these rooms as well as a lot of materials for ship repairs

Also of note

Crows nest is definitely big enough for a bench, definitely big enough for... activities. Not as big as the Sunny's though I dont think a gym would fit, I think it'd be more likely that gym equipment is kept on the cannon deck

Idk if the mizzenmast is supposed to go all the way through but that physically can't happen with where the helm needs to be based on screenshots so ✌️

Crows nests are definitely access via climbing nets

Please absolutely feel free to use this as a reference for fanfictions, but I'd appreciate a shout out if you do 💖

[onlyswan]

i’m back to give you my iw!couple brain rot 🤲, please handle with care.

but !! imagine jungkook and oc doing that “see how long we can go without kissing” challenge !! how would fold first? they’re both so competitive but smitten it makes me conflicted. 😣😣

knowing them, jungkook would be twitching his eye just from the thought of being deprived kissies so would oc give in first to let him win? or would jungkook just take what’s his?? 🤔

imagine oc being a blushing mess from staring at jungkook’s face for too long 😵‍💫 THEYRE SO CUTE I CANT THINK STRAIGHT😭🫶

summary: in which jungkook is twenty-six years old and yet… you still give him butterflies.

idol!jk x reader, established relationship / word count: 0.7k

content/warnings: sexual tension, making out, it’s honestly just them fighting over who gets to be on top

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe hi anonie… sorry… i kindaaa got carried away… i had to write out the thing or else i would’ve gone insane just talking about it <3 (written with love and care) <3

—

“i don’t understand this challenge.”

“me neither,”

jungkook remains in a hypnotic-like trance, doe eyes trained to your lips stained with a lighter shade of mixed red and brown.

“we’re this close and we can’t kiss…? this is absurd.”

“do they actually do this in bed? with someone on top?” you chuckle as you coyly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. “i don’t think so?”

“i don’t know. i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he teasingly brushes his nose against yours, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended. “since, you know, we’ll be here a while.”

“oh wow. bringing me to bed, really? you’re that confident?”

he cockily raises an eyebrow. “hm, we both know you won’t be able to resist me here. you’re all over me all the time.”

you try not to roll your eyes in annoyance. and you also both know that you’re just as competitive, if not more.

“oh my god, you,” you mumble. the calm of your voice contrasts the aggressive push of your hand against your boyfriend’s naked chest. “and your stupid arrogance and your stupid need to flaunt your stupid hot body.”

in the blink of an eye, jungkook finds you stradding him, and himself, trapped underneath your body. he blinks in disbelief, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“this is dirty.”

you remove his glasses, moving it aside without care. “that’s just your mind.”

okay, perhaps bringing you to bed was a bad idea.

you lean down, slowly, close and then closer— it’s quite ridiculous that he’s nervous as if he doesn’t know what is bound to happen next: he’s thoroughly convinced that you’re going to kiss him.

once he feels your lips ghost over his, mere millimeters away, his eyelids flutter shut.

terrible idea. terrible.

the kiss, much to his disappointment, never happens.

he opens his eyes and your face is suddenly tucked in the space between his neck and shoulders, giggling and shaking and positively amused.

he turns away and squeezes his eyes shut. a painful admit of defeat against your infinite allure. “ah, i’m fucked.”

“we’ll get there later,” you lift your head, tilting his chin to face you.

you smile and scoot closer. so close that your bottom lips grazes his. he fails to remember the last time the two of you touched as chastely, as softly, but it felt like accidentally touching a live wire. he gets a funny feeling in his stomach. butterflies…? he’s twenty-six years old. he must be losing his mind.

“after you lose.”

“that’s not happening, baby.”

“yes, it will.”

“i won’t give up so easily.”

you give him an innocent look. “but i really think you will.”

you stare at each other for a little while, anticipating the other’s next move.

“fuck- yeah, okay-” he grits his teeth, taking advantage of his strength to finally flip back your positions. you’ve had your fun. “you’re right.”

“babe! ru-”

your surprised gasp is cut off by jungkook’s lips crashing on yours— curved into a smirk, you can feel it. your whines are muffled and swallowed by him, wrists caught in his hands and over your head because you were hitting his shoulder and he just wanted to kiss his baby properly.

“you lost,” you remark quietly when he draws back, only inches away, to scatter kisses along your face and down to your neck.

it tickles, you squirm in pleasure when he reaches near your collarbone, but your hands are still tied.

you were supposed to have him underneath you as a hot and flustered mess, not the other way around. damn it.

“really?” he feigns interest, lips finding their way back to yours. “doesn’t feel like it.”

[annievrse]

joyride

chuuya x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: you and chuuya go for a drive w/c: 1.2k c/w: suggestive [mdni], reader gets called wife & good girl heh a/n: obvi inspired by kesha's joyride

“We're going for a drive.”

Chuuya gives you no room to decline as he unlocks the car Mori provided for the mission and slides into the driver's seat. You stand staring at the red car. Of course, it's red. A red Ferrari, at that. You roll your eyes at the unsubtly and open the passenger's door.

The mission was tough, and you assume Chuuya needs to drive the anger out of his system. Usually, you wouldn't encourage such destructive behaviour, but you can't help the giddy feeling rising in your chest when your boyfriend drives.

The 812 purrs to life, and Chuuya grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. He'd slid his coat and gloves off before you got in, sitting in his crisp white dress shirt. You inhale deeply, reaching over to slip his hat off his head. Orange locks fall free and frame his face. You place the hat in your lap and thread your fingers through his hair. Chuuya says nothing, but you know he appreciates the affection.

As industrial streets slimmed into the flat countryside, paddocks stretched like a midnight quilt stitched together with wire fences. The moon provides little light behind the clouds as the road fades into the night, and the reflective broken lines fly by in flashes. Driving on country roads at this speed is stupid and dangerous, but you feel like you are flying; it is almost freeing. Besides, when Chuuya drives, you feel at ease. You trust him more than yourself, especially with the addition of Upon the Tainted Sorrow.

The car is warm despite the cool air conditioning, and you squirm in your seat. Chuuya accelerates when he passes the final car on the stretch of the road. Natural gravity forces you back into your chair, your stomach rolling with adrenaline and fear. You can't look over at Chuuya, so you stare straight ahead with a smile etched on your cheeks. 

You are hyperaware of Chuuya's movements. He changes gears fluidly and turns corners smoothly; you can't help but admire his handiwork. You glance at the odometer, reading 160 on the dial, and your stomach lurches. Silhouettes of trees pass like ghosts, and your hands sweat where they rest on his hat. You were never good with being in fast cars, but having a boyfriend and a best friend who loves being behind the wheel was something you had to digest quickly. 

“You good?” Chuuya's breathless voice cuts through the thick air. Your head turns toward him. You try not to speak while he drives this fast, 125mph. Instead, you nod.

“Use your words, I can’t look at you.” His eyes remain on the dark road. You tongue the inside of your cheek, a smirk on your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m okay," You sigh. Your stomach churns as the road curves, and your hands are firm on your legs. 

Chuuya shakes his head and paws at your thigh quickly before he places it back on the gear stick. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and you look over at him. He's so devilishly handsome that you feel you may sin if you dare to look at him, even after all this time. Strands of red hair fall lazily over his forehead and blow softly in the air conditioning.

As Chuuya turns a corner faster than recommended, you quickly lift his hat and fit it over your head.

"You're gonna kill me," Chuuya mumbles, sparing a glance in your direction. His cheeks are rosy, even in the midnight light. Your eyes flicker to his full and pouty lips, the shade of rich wine, and then to his lean biceps strained against his white dress shirt as he straightens his arms to stretch out. "Definitely gonna be my wife."

Your face feels like fire at his muttered words, and you whine in response. "Stop teasing."

"You stop teasing," Chuuya mutters. "Makin' me hard."

Your skin gets impossibly hotter. "You're crazy."

He scoffs and turns his head to look at you. The car is flying down the road, and you pretend to ignore the red aura of his ability around the vehicle. You meet his gaze, turning your whole body toward him.

"And whose fault's that?"

You shrug. "Dazai."

Chuuya chokes on a surprised laugh, and you smile when he turns his attention back to the road, disgust making his lip curl.

"Don't speak about him when I just told you I'm hard."

Your eyes flicker to the strained fabric of his black slacks.

"I'm not giving you head when you're going 200mph."

Chuuya rolls his eyes and uses his right hand to fix his crotch. You cover your laugh with your hand and turn to look out the window.

“Home?” Chuuya asks, his voice laced with desperation. The car should be going slower since you entered residential streets, but due to his predicament, you guess he doesn't care.

"Yep."

“Okay," He swallows, running a red light. "We're sleeping in my bed tonight."

You laugh and take his hand when it returns to your lower thigh. “I want the left side.” 

The car finally lurches to a stop at a red traffic light, and Chuuya gives you an incredulous look. “No fucking way, that’s my side. You know that.”

If you hadn't shifted the tone of the conversation, you doubt you'd be sitting at this light. You shrug and place his hand on the gear stick. “Guess I'm sleeping in my bed, then."

You see him roll his eyes in your peripheral as you stare at the traffic light impatiently. Chuuya sighs dramatically, and when you glance over, you see him torn between pouting and glaring. But you remain impartial, nodding forward once when the light turns green. 

“You’re so…” Chuuya trails off, shaking his head and putting his foot down. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips.

“Careful,” You warn playfully, and he shoots you a dark look as the silence thickens with tension. 

“You’re so pretty it hurts, darling,” He clutches his chest. "Especially with my hat on."

You laugh, tipping the brim. "It definitely looks better on you. I don't think it suits me."

Chuuya's expression morphs into a scowl. "Shut the fuck up, or I'll make you."

"Chuuya!" You giggle, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Don't piss me off with that shit talk, alright?"

You purse your lips to suppress a smile. As he puts the car in park, his grey eyes find yours in the dark. His hat sits tilted on your head, and Chuuya doesn't believe he's ever seen anything as beautiful in his life. The feeling makes his chest hurt.

"Alright?" He repeats, but his voice is void of the previous sharp tone.

You lean forward and press your mouth against his. Chuuya's hand slides to your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You pull back and watch through lidded eyes as he chases your lips. After one last peck, Chuuya kisses both of your cheeks and falls back in his seat.

"Good girl."

[cybercl0ne]

6-1 // army x f!reader

Summary: you get trapped in an elevator with 6 hot masked men, what could go wrong?

Tw: gangbang, double penetration, pure porn, 18+, vaginal penetration, anal penetration, no jimmy, creampies (possible impreg?), squirting, degradation, Cum. Everywhere. Multiple orgasm.

You were running late. Like really late and you knew rushing up 10 flights of stairs was not happening. You decided to call for the elevator instead, guessing that your boss would cut you some slack depending on your excuse.

As you elevator ringed, the rusty, grinding wires weary hilt in front of you, opening the door to welcome you only to see 6 masked men standing, staring blankly at you, waiting for you to get on. You feel flushed at how weirdly attractive these men looked, their gear making them look buffed and their faces covered by black mask, only keeping their majestic eyes available.

They hold the elevator for you, steeping on you squirm in a small circle around them, they give you space like you were foreign to them. “Thanks guys.” You nervously laugh, going immediately silent as you feel their eyes soften, a glint of unknown lust festering as well. “No problem little lady.” One says seductively, eyeing you, keeping contact as you stand in awe at how his voice rumbled through you. You nod, and hold your head down, trying to make the high tension settle down. All hell breaks loose when the elevator suddenly stops and you drop your smartphone, bending down to reach it, unintentionally giving a show to the men around you. Your skirt hiking up just barely before your ass, showing a corner of your colorful panties. One of them whistle another fall into line with sounds of amusement, one in front of you, you caught readjusting his clear hard on.

“My god, what a nice view..~” one calls out, the others joining in a laugh. Your body felt warm, your lower body growing in heat as these hot men surround you, ready to pounce.

“we’re you just waiting for us to jump on you little lamb?” Another questions. One wraps their hand around your waist, feeling your hips up and down, staring into your eyes for approval. As soon as you give your small nod and whimper the men ravenge you.

“You dirty little slut, getting on an elevator, waiting for someone like us to come along to destroy your little body.” They spit out, gripping your ass, one groping at your tits, pooling them out of your bra. You squeal as you feel your cunt getting more needy, your panties getting sticky with your slick. One of them proceed you rip your professional tights, another man going in for a kiss, staring their deep brown eyes into yours, kneeding your clothed clit as the others worked to get the rest of your articles of clothing out of the way, whipping their own cocks out. “grab my cock you little bitch!” A blue eyes one demands, his heavy British accent making you moan. “Look at her. She’s enjoying getting manhandled! Get my cock in her mouth, see if she’s smiling then?” He slaps your face, slapping his cock on your face. You poke your tongue out, focused on the pre that sticks to your cheek as he slaps it deeper onto your skin, groaning, rubbing it up and down your lips, teasing you.

“I’m gonna taste this sweet cunt, I just know it’s wet and ready for me~” a slim yet buff man replied, stroking his own cock as he rips your panties straight off, his gloved finger glazing your tight hole, his warm and slimy tongue taking its place. “Put your fucking hand on my cock, bitch!” One yells in another heavy accent, his cock way to big to fit in your hand, you attempt to grasp onto his cock, sliding your hand back and forth, your eyes rolling back as you choke down another man’s cock, his hairs prickling your nose as he stuffs himself deep. You clench around nothing as your pussy gets demolished. Feeling yourself on the edge of squirting, you scream out your moan through getting your throat pounded while fisting 2 other men’s cocks.

“Oh the little girls getting close!” The man attending to your cunt stops, and announces. Erupting a slap and a laugh from everyone. Slaps to your ass, face and pussy. You squirm as your climax was so close, them teasing you by slapping around your poor aching pussy. “Awe, baby girl wants to cum? Do you wanna cum baby?” One man says, pampering your face with kisses, his stubble tickling your face. Unable to speak with your cock stuffed mouth you nod.

“Use your fucking words baby.. what do you want? Tell daddy so he can give it to you…” he whines, using his now ungloved fingers to rub up and down your slit, his thumb grazing your clit.

The man pops his cock out of your mouth, shifting to your tits, as 3 other men use your hands and thighs. “p-please.. p-please let me cum!” You yelp, begging with teary half lidded eyes. As you beg you stick out your tongue for a man that jerks his cock over your face, his eyes squinting, telling you he’s close. He moans and finally shoots his hot cum out all over your face, it splurting on your open tongue and one of your eyes. The rest of the men join in, cumming on different parts of your body. One man slapping his cock on your ass, cumming alongside it. Another letting it out on your hands. The man that was in charge of your pussy starts up, tonging you until you feel that white peak, clenching around his slithering tongue, his ball-shaped piercing hitting your clit just right. “C-cumming!” You yell, shaking intensely as you squirt all over the bottom man’s face. The biggest man, lifts you up between your orgasm, making your squirt spray everywhere, drenching the boys as the big man lines himself up with your small, tight pussy, his cock twitching as it meshes in your juices, tapping lightly on your cunt.

“That’s a good girl, letting it rain like a fountain baby!” The man says, kissing your agape mouth. You feel like you’ve been fucked dumb even though you know that these men have just started their satisfaction. You looked down, seeing the big man’s cock, you immediately started to realize that he was the biggest for a reason. His cock twitched at the attention. The men laughed.

“To big for you princess?”

“Gotta make sure to stuff you nice and good honey…”

“I can’t wait to get a taste of that.” all around the men were commenting. Some with sweet replies, others with want and need, they all wanted a piece of you, rubbing their cocks in unison as the big man inches you down on his fat dick.

“N-no! I-it won’t fit!~” you screech, feeling your cunt being slip apart by the big man. “So…damn…tight…” the big man whispers in your ear, moaning heavily. “gonna stuff you so full of my seed that your stomach will grow.” He chuckles deeply, while bottoming out, stuffing you all the way down that you can’t even make a noise at first, only broken moans as your tits bounced from the recoil.

“She’s loving it! Look at her face, she can’t even process how fucked dumb she’s getting!” One points out, stroking his cock harder. “Careful, we don’t want her to break too easily~” another one joins in, groaning at the show he was getting. You felt your insides being rearranged, putting your hand to your stomach, you feel the bulge that dives in and out ever time the man harshly pumps his cock in and out of you. You heave and huff through it, bending your head back to kiss his groaning lips. As you make out with the man with his mask halfway up you feel his rhythm only growing more sloppy and harder, your tits flopping around uncontrollably as he pounds you.

“don’t take all the fun, let me enjoy that sweet cunt!” One interjects, closing into your face, smirking. The big man that was currently demolishing your insides laughs and suddenly stops, popping his cock out of your pussy. You whimper at the sudden empty feeling of his warm twitching cock not blanketing your cunt.

“Don’t worry sweet girl, you’ll be double stuffed in a minute.” You squirm at the tone and way he said it, looking in your eyes, kissing your lips deeply as he adjust himself to your pussy, the big man aiming at your ass, still holding you up.

“Sure you can take it little lamb?” A background man adds, coming up to you, using your bent thighs to stroke his cock. Another one tags along to your other thigh, some staying back, enjoying their front row seats to the show.

Both of the men that stood at your holes entered in at the same time causing you to yell out, tightening and clenching as he tore through your ass while the other guy played through your cunt, fighting his way to your cirvix.

“S-so tight! God damn, you’re gonna break my cock off princess!” He adds, pumping his long hard dick inside you, the big guy rutting deeper inside you. You felt your holes getting violated, being stretched and feeling the searing pain and pressure from them, your stomach showing a faint bulge once again. Juices started to pour out of you, your moans filling the air as they grunted, pounding your holes at an unholy pace.

“p-please n-no… I-I’m gonna break! I-I can’t take it.. w-wanna cum!” You huffed out, feeling yourself getting lost. The rest of the men grunted and moaned, some mixed laughs as they felt themselves getting close to. “don’t worry baby I-I’m close to!” The man pounding your asshole shouts, nibbling on your neck as the one destroying your weeping, leaking pussy grunts in approval, heading toward the same climax. As you feel yourself being overstimulated, drawing to close to cumming they both cum at the same time, both your ass and cunt getting pumped full of hot milky cum. You felt yourself tipping over the edge but as soon as he popped out of you another man entered you, finishing inside you as well.

“We all gotta take turns cumming in that pretty cunt~” one man says, exiting your warm, clenching pussy as another enters in, thumping inside you, unloading his hot seed. You felt your stomach about to burst as you also felt your cunt driving over the edge, your legs going limp as your eyes rolled back.

as the last man came inside you, you reached your climax, squirting a ton, pushing some of the fresh hot cum out with it. The men kissed all over your fucked out body, whispering sweet words into your ear, breast, thighs, and neck. You giggled, mind fucked and still squirting, coming down from the long high as the elevator finally opened. “That was fun, I hope we can do it again sometime~” the big man said, climbing out of the elevator with the rest of his friends who already readjusted themselves while you laid, displayed and completely fucked out on the elevator floor.

[anpingdongmingwiremesh]

Find a Trusted Wire Mesh Manufacturer for the Benefit of Your Business Growth

For the majority of us, conducting business internationally is unthinkable. However, some people will always start making purchases from Plaster Mesh manufacturers since they wish to have a chance to become wealthy. There you will also find high-quality Welded Razor Wire, and other materials.

Phone No. +86-15131872040

Email: sales@wiremeshdm.com

Address: Industrial Park, Anping, Hebei, China 053600

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: All the buildup, all the teasing, finally leads to this: Simon is back and ready to act on all those filthy things you two had been teasing each other with. Will you make it home before you both explode? Or will the car have to do to break the tension?

Word Count: 5.1 k

Warnings:

Part 2:

Unsteady hands gripped hard into the steering wheel, knuckles white as you tightly held on while headed straight to the military base. Your heart pounding furiously inside your chest, breath quick and short the closer you got, it was nearly impossible to keep your eyes focused on the road. Christ were you gnawing at the bit to get there and once again see that beast of a man, the one keeping you begging for release for the past three months.

Those breathtaking bits of personalized porn you two had sent each other had done nothing other than made that inconvenient ache into a raging monster that could not be quenched. Hours spent furiously working yourselves, silently begging for a little ease in the constant throbbing had gotten nowhere except to drain the battery life on your phones from the constant re-watching of videos.

…though that last photo he sent you of his abdomen covered in his milky white cum after having watched your little romp into amateur pornography had left you feeling on top of the world for a couple days.

And just as you were on that last leg of desperation, finally the light at the end of the tunnel that led up to you driving where you were today. It had been exactly one week from when you got the text you had been waiting on from Simon:

“I’m coming home, baby. Fucking finally; Christ I thought I was going to rub myself raw. Best not wear anything you want to remain intact, you hear me? Cause the minute I get my paws on you, that's it.”

Thank fuck, the suffering was almost over.

That entire week seemed to drag on endlessly, each day crawling through at a snails pace, but here you were now only a few more minutes away from your destination. Even as you checked in at the entrance to the base, antsy and squirming in the seat of your car, you couldn’t believe that you had actually made it.

You took Simon’s message to heart when you got ready that morning, choosing a simple, flowy dress that he could literally shred off of you and you wouldn’t give a shit. It was just long enough that it could easily conceal the fact that you had done away with the panties today, opting for ease of access over anything else, but low cut enough in the front that he could get a nice eyeful of your full chest; you had no idea what would happen the moment you saw each other again and you weren’t taking any chances.

This reunion was bound to be explosive after all the visual edging you two had been doing lately and having to waste even a second more of time before your bodies could be joined felt like a crime.

You walked through the base, heartbeat rapidly increasing with each step as you got closer to where you knew you'd find that hulking Lieutenant hanging around.

And then you turned a corner and there he was like a specter brought back to life, standing idly beside the outside wall smoking as he watched the privates of his troop find their families and suddenly the wind was knocked from you.

“Simon,” you called out to him and he turned to face you.

That instant connection of your eyes felt like a shock from a live wire; Simon could feel the electricity run through his veins and tingle its way up his spine until the first prickles of sweat dotted across his body as his cigarette slipped from his fingers. It felt like he couldn’t breathe and the closer you got the worse it became; you knew what you were doing wearing that pretty little dress.

Fuck did he want to take a bite of those thick thighs he could see just under the hem that popped out every time you took a step and if his hands didn’t get their fill of your breast spilling out of his grip soon, he might just keel over and die. You were more than tempting, you were a feast sent to make him completely lose his goddamn mind.

His entire body was sent into shock as that ache that he had tried to keep from ripping him apart all day as he waited for your arrival overtook him until his balls pulsed and he had to adjust himself or get caught sporting a stiffy that would instantly tent the crotch of his pants and make it even more painfully obvious to any curious eyes just how gone he fucking was.

Coming to a stop you stood before him, your stomach doing back flips as you struggled to form words that weren’t just pleas for him to just rip the waistband of his pants down and take you right then.

“Hey you,” you said through unsteady breaths, trying to keep calm. “Long time no see, huh?”

Simon nodded. “Too fuckin’ long sweetheart. Ya look...” he had to clear his throat, “incredible.” He had to keep it short, there were still too many people about and even his words would cause him to lose composure.

“Well, it is a special occasion after all,” you chuckled. “Got to remind you what you leave behind every time you go.”

The need to take your hand and give it squeeze, that customary greeting that you both did when in public, made him hesitate. If he touched you right now, any bare part that met skin with skin, he may not be able to stop, not once those weathered and brutish fingers got their fill of all that sweet softness. There as still a little time left that he had to be there and the agony was already eating away at him.

“Believe me, I fuckin’ know,” he said as he shot you a look; I’ve been in hell waitin’ to get back to it, it whispered to you.

Taking a few calming breaths, he risked lacing his broad fingers in between the empty spaces in your own. Simon could feel the rapid thump, thump, thump, of your pulse against his palm; good, you were just as excited for this reunion as he was.

Somehow that made it a bit easier, knowing that the feeling was mutual.

“Can we go?” you asked eagerly, hopeful that you were closer to the end of your joint suffering sooner rather than later.

Simon stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. “Gotta be here just a bit longer,” he muttered dejectedly under his breath. “God, I want ya so bad I can’t see straight.”

You squeezed his hand back. “It’ll go fast,” you assured. “And…I mean… no one’s looking this way if you wanted to touch me a little more. Maybe you’ll find something you’ll like.”

It was dangerous, but he took a chance with even more touch as he released your hand and loosely wrapped his arm around your waist, bring you in to him until your hips were touching. You were warm against him, warmer than the day would suggest, and the curve of your hip that he ran his fingers over delicately to retrace the lines he had dreamed about felt even better than he remembered.

Silently you peaked over at his face, watching as his head faced firmly forward to watch for any prying eyes, but it was clear he hadn’t noticed it yet. Not wanting to spoil the surprise, you kept quiet; he’d figure it out eventually. Those exploring fingers were beginning to stray more towards the back of you to the small dip at the base of your spine.

…and then lower still…

That’s when you felt it; he risked a lingering stroke over the contour of your ass when he noticed it. Where was that distinct seam of your panty line? He had grabbed your backside so many times over the course of your relationship that he knew the feeling of what should have been there. Quickly he ran his hand over the area again and still the same, there was nothing. Christ, you’d really prepared for today, hadn’t you?

Good fuckin’ girl.

His chest began to grow tight with his quickened breathing… along with that engorged appendage down below. He was in fucking trouble now; would he even be able to make it to the car at this point? The moan that desperately tried to escape through his throat he swallowed down, but who knows how long it would stay.

He was in the thick of it now.

Simon leaned down to rest his face against the side of your head, his warm breath still able to be felt against your ear even through the mask. “Fuckin’ hell sweetheart, no panties?” he whispered intrigued. “Christ, how the fuck am I supposed to hang on now?”

You smirked, trying to pick even though you were falling apart at the seams, a wetness gathering between your thighs as you pressed them together. “You complaining? Cause I can head back home and put some on real quick if you want.”

A harsh squeeze along the underside of your ass cheek made you gasp before he removed his hand and gave you your answer. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he warned, a playfully lilt to his tone. “That sweet little pussy is about to be filled and I don’t wanna waste a goddamn second havin’ to rip those fuckin’ things off ya.”

Dear God he was about to fuckin’ explode, say screw it and pin you up against the nearest wall right in front of the entire goddamn squad to plow into your tight, wet cunt with months worth of unrequited need that had built up to this monster of desire churning away inside of him. His teeth bit at the skin of his lower lip, his fists clenching and unclenching as he failed to calm himself while he again checked the time.

The moment that those amber eyes watched the second hand on his watch hit and the minutes change to the millisecond he could be released, his oversized mitt wrapped around your wrist, securing it in his harsh grasp, and quickly he began making his way to your car with you being dragged alongside.

“Where the hell are ya parked?” he questioned in a huff, that gruff voice nothing more than a growl, and you pointed towards the back of the lot in the corner.

You could barely keep up with his intense pace, nearly tripping over your own feet several times to match his long strides. It didn’t help that your heart was pounding furiously, nearly beating out of your chest the closer you got to being in a tight, secluded spot with him; could you even make it back to his apartment?

All signs were pointing to not a fucking chance.

Simon only released you so that you could both get inside, separating at the tail of the vehicle with you headed towards the driver side and him the other. The slam from the car door rung through the interior of the vehicle and before you could even insert the key into the ignition, Simon had moved in silent as a specter to place his large palm against the side of your cheek. The endless ache he had endured over the past months apart had been unbearable as you both edged each other to the brink of insanity and now that he was so close to you again it felt like he was in a dream.

The tension that suddenly filled the car was overwhelmingly electric as Simon closed what little distance there still sat between you both, his hand moving to the back of your head. Those bulky, calloused fingers that had missed having any part of you against them laced themselves through your hair with harsh abandon, pulling your face closer.

He held your head steady and pointedly at his face so that you had to stare into his intense, unwavering gaze; it made your skin tingle with anticipation of what was on the horizon and barreling down fast. Those sparkling brown eyes drew you in to hold your own captive as he drug his thick thumb across the length of your bottom lip as if to test that all this was actually real. His entire hand palmed the back of your head which left you completely at his mercy, not that you were complaining.

After all, you needed him just as badly.

Without warning he wrenched the bottom hem of his balaclava up over the top of his head and off his face before his mouth crashed violently against your own, hungry and greedy to steal kiss after fiery kiss from those soft, supple lips he had been eyeing with a burning desire to ruin since the minute he saw you again. Desperately his tongue parted your lips as he plunged it inside your mouth to reclaim it.

God it felt euphoric to finally be given the very thing you had been aching for for months, feeling as if your body had pined for his for an eternity, as it was finally released from it’s torture. And by the way his tongue was nearly shoved down the back of your throat you knew Simon felt that same kind of relief and it only spurred him on further.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your parted lips, nothing but hot, sticky breath being shared. “Ugh…fuck, baby, I’ve missed you so goddamn much I thought I was gonna fuckin’ die before I could feel ya again.”

Crawling over the small console in the center between the car seats, Simon shoved his body weight into you, making your smaller frame slam against the driver-side door. The raised panelling along the inside dug roughly into the muscles of your back as the backside of your head was shoved harshly into the glass of the window. There was no pause in his assault of your mouth until your lips began to burn from the constant contact and yet even the pain still felt like heaven.

He tasted so strongly of tobacco from the chain of cigarettes he must have smoked to calm his nerves until you arrived, but even through the distinct flavor you still drank every last drop of him down like you would cease to function without him.

Those thick digits of his free hand eagerly pawed at your supple thighs until he was able to divide them so that his hand could slip in between. There was a damp heat gathered near your unclothed sex and it only made him more wild to feel it. His palm cupped around your entire mound and you whimpered directly into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he hissed one of the only words he could recall in that moment as the damp heat filled his palm. “All for me?”

Words, what the hell were they again? You couldn’t remember how speech worked as you were far too busy try to simply breathe through the conquering of your body by him. All you could do was mewl like a kitten as he massaged the petals of your cunt before taking his middle finger and slipping it between them. Your back arched in a jolt as he ran one finger along the length of your cunt, mouth falling agape as Simon gathered as much of your juices on his finger as he could.

Even this small amount of contact already had you dripping and coming apart at the seams; it had been so long since you had felt that familiar touch and pressure against your clit, the one that only he could provide.

Simon couldn’t help himself once he got his first real feel again of how soft and slick you were, goddamn it had been too long that he’d only been able to play with himself, and greedily he drew upon your clit in concise circles with the pad of his rough finger. There was a second where he tried to remain calm, to take his time drawing out your pleasure as he would normally do, but as your back arched and your breathy music filled the silence of the car, he could not hold off from unleashing weeks of pent up need onto you.

Removing his lips from your own, he moved down to the soft skin of your neck with teeth ready to leave the flesh marked with his seal. It burned him alive with desire at the thought that he would be able to see your pretty skin marred by him, that everyone who came in to contact with you in the coming days after today would see it too.

You could not stop the way your body writhed and squirmed as his finger collected a friend to join it and spread your entrance open so they could both slide inside. The heightened tension of the moment with the man you had yearned for only made you more sensitive and the way his fingers filled your tight, aching hole after it had been left empty for too long thrilled you. As natural as breathing, your hips ground down on his fingers, using them as your own living dildo.

God, he wanted nothing more than for you to ride his cock as well as you rode his fingers just now and send him straight to hell. Shit, he couldn’t catch his breath, his need was just too much. “That’s it. Use me; make my fingers yours.”

Both of your hands moved to behind your head and onto the window; you needed more leverage to ground onto him harder, as hard as you could. Nothing compared to him, not your own fingers, not a toy; you could not stop yourself. You could feel the condensation already gathering on the glass as you moved and you had to wipe it away so that you could get better purchase on the surface so you wouldn’t slide.

There was nothing that was going to ruin this.

“Oh god, baby,” you squeaked out as that overwhelming deep warmth of your release gathered in your abdomen.

The corners of his mouth upturned against your neck at the sound of you falling apart because of him. Images conquered in his mind about your moans and cries reaching outside the car so that anyone who walked by would hear them before they caught a glimpse of the show. Why wouldn’t he want to show you off like this? You looked so fucking beautiful falling apart to his ferocity.

Just the way your muscles strained and your cries became more pathetic, Simon knew you were close. “Are ya gonna come for me already, pretty girl?” his gruff voice purred against your collar bone. “Come on then, give it to me. Clench down on my fingers. Let me feel it.”

Pumping his fingers in and out of you, keeping the pace as steady as he could, he felt those velvety walls flutter around his digits as he rocked his upper body with you to simulate the movements he’d soon be doing when he was really inside you. The air was so thick with moisture it almost felt hard to breathe right, the windows filmed with the stuff as with a few more strokes at your clit you came hard and fast, shaking as he continued to work you until ever single ounce of your orgasm had been spent.

Simon was gone then, replaced by a feral beast fueled by his ability to make you come… and wanting to do it again, but this time with his cock.

He pulled those thick fingers out of you, glistening with the wetness of your cum and brought them to his lips. You watched wide eyed as he stuck them in his mouth and licked them good and clean; goddamn you tasted just as delicious as he remembered. Could you blame the man? You had kept him starving since your video popped up on his phone and he had to get a bit of it all.

“I need more of ya,” he groaned in whispers as he leaned back into you, desperate hands pawing at your breast still sadly inside your dress as he kissed you again, now with the taste of you on his breath.

“We need to move, someone’s bound to come see what all the noise is about,” you said, able to think a little more clearly now that you had come once, but Simon was still gone and there was only one thing that would bring him back.

“Don’t care, can’t wait. Get in the back. Now.”

The primal growl in his gruff voice was enough to make you comply without another word; once was not enough anyway, not after how you had suffered. You needed to be filled with more than his fingers. With a nod you immediately began climbing over the cushions towards the backseat of the car as he got out and moved into the back with you. You leaned back into the front long enough to shove the seats forward all the way to give you more space.

Simon needed room to work.

Scooting over, he planted himself directly in the middle of the back seat and pulled you over top of his lap to straddle him, shins digging into the edge of the cushion. Shit, he as so hard you couldn’t properly sit over top of him without leaving a wet spot right where his cock tented the fabric.

Clothes could be washed, as if he would care at all if anything got on him right now. Pushing your hips down, he made you grind your overstimulated clit hard on that throbbing shaft and you mewled into his face. A devilish grin spread from ear to ear as he rocked your hips to dry hump him.

“Someone ‘ere begged to be bred and that’s what she’s gonna fuckin’ get,” he hissed, sucking in the air harshly between his teeth at the feeling of you on top of him. “Can’t take it back now, luv. I have been fuckin’ dreamin’ of doin’ this, ever since you sent me that goddamn video and I ‘eard you say those sweet fuckin’ words. Been fuckin’ gnawin’ at the bit to stuff you full.”

Taking both of his hands, he pulled at the low neckline of your dress until your breasts came spilling out of the top. Angling his face in, he placed his nose right between the two to suffocate himself within them. There was a hint of your perfume still lingering there, that scent he had bought you for your birthday last year, the one that occasionally lingered on his clothes and had done for the first couple weeks of his mission.

The flesh was so enticing that he sucked in the supple top of one breast before he bit down, not enough to break the skin, but enough that it would definitely leave a nice red outline of his teeth; more signaturea that you could both admire.

“Simon,” you moaned his name.

Your own hands roamed up under his shirt, pushing the fabric up until you reached his chest and you could run your hands over the sparse bit of hair you adored; it would be so nice to get to nuzzle against it again. As your fingers ran between his pectorals you could feel the moment his breath hitched.

“Please, Simon,” you begged. “I need it.”

Those breasts he would get back to later, your words brought him back and his need to fuck you senseless slammed into him full force.

Rushed, he laid you back over the console between the seats as he sat up and forward, undoing his belt before ripping his pants down enough that he could pull his cock out of his boxers. The angle was slightly awkward, but as he aligned the leaking head of his phallus with your entrance and gave that first thrust to fully enter you, everything else fell away.

“Oh fuck…fuck… oh fuck,” that deep agonized whimper echoed through the car as Simon’s hands bore down his grip on the top of the seat cushions. “Goddammit, luv…s-shit…ah…”

Nothing, absolutely nothing in this fucking world could ever compare to the way your body felt wrapped around his cock: how silky and warm and tight it was. There was no way with his limited brain function could he accurately describe how mind-numblingly amazing it was to be inside you again. Those restless nights where he just couldn’t seem to stay satisfied, the pictures and video that made it worse, the dreams that woke him to stained boxers, it was all undone in that moment as your soft walls held him snugly.

Your head flew back over the lip of the console as he filled you completely to the hilt, stretching you out to your limit. It was almost too much after so much time apart, but goddamn was it exactly as you had wanted. You swallowed the saliva gathering in your mouth, wanting to say the words you had first brought to life in your video, but in person this time.

“Breed me, please Simon. I need you to fucking breed me.”

Never had a more beautiful sentence ever been spoken to him in all his years than to hear your desperate and depraved voice telling him to claim you in the most ultimate way; it was even more beautiful in person than it was that first time he heard it. His fingernails nearly tore holes in the seat as gripped with all this strength to stop himself from coming too fast from all the excitement.

The car began to shake forward and back as Simon snapped his hips into you with a feverish intensity. Even within the first few minutes he was already pussy drunk, slamming into you with a feral roughness that left his rhythm scattered for a bit as his brain only had one objective now: to come.

Your legs were absolutely burning and shaking from the intensity as you had to spread them wide so that he could fit in between, but it didn’t matter; you would have done anything to have him reclaim your cunt as his own again.

The scent of sex was heavy in the air of that enclosed space, the wet slapping sounds of two bodies connecting in that most erotic way keeping the beat.

Yet there was still one more thing he wanted, one more thing that he had been daydreaming about all by his lonesome. Even in this cramped space, he was determined to make it happen- for both of you. His hands were on your legs and before you knew what was happening, he had pulled out of you so that he could situate your calves up on his broad shoulders.

As he thrust back in, the new position helped him reach even deeper until he completely bottomed out. Goddamn it was like you could feel him in your stomach, so full with him that you were completely one being.

“F-fuck…” you stammered out the cry, choking on your words as you writhed uncontrollably. It was almost too much.

“There ya go baby,” he groaned as he started rocking his hips again, unable to contain himself at this consuming euphoria. “Gotta make good on my fuckin’ promise.”

He took you even rougher now, gripping into your hips hard enough to leave purple fingerprints where his hands rested as he pounded into you furiously, your body contorted and at his mercy. The windows of the car were completely fogged over now, the condensation not letting any clear visuals in or out as the axel squeaked with the force of Simon’s thrusts. The console you were still laid on scraped across your back to make it burn as your body was rocked, but the angle was so perfect that the stimulation made your brain blank to anything that wasn’t your second release creeping up on you quick.

There were no more words that could be said as you both devolved into beings hell bent on pleasure alone, just the depraved sounds of grunting and moans filling up the interior to capacity; that growing warmth in your belly nearly reaching its peak

Goddammit, he was closer than he thought due to all the pent up desire he'd been unable to sait for weeks, but he had to be sure you were almost there again too. "Are ya close?" he asked as more of a plea than a question, hips snapping desperately with a shudder as he was losing the battle to his orgasm.

"Yes," you groaned back. "Don't stop, please."

He closed his eyes tight, working to stay from blowing until he felt your thighs twitch and clamp down around him, keeping him locked in. A few more sloppy thrusts slipping through the cum covering your cunt, a few more bumps against your swollen clit, and that was it. The warmth shot through your limbs, coursing like electricity as you came once more.

"Yes, yes, yes!" you cried out and finally he let go and fuck did he come with a roar that stung your ears.

Simon's body convulsed, the muscles in his abdomen tensing and straining as he released weeks and weeks of need. You took it all riding out your orgasms in tandem until you both lay still a moment, simply breathing after such an explosive ending.

He moved back into the seat exhausted, pulling your body along with him as you stayed connected. Lightly he pushed up your dress to press his raw lips to your stomach to kiss down the lower half of your body. Each embrace was another silent praise he gave while he took deep breaths through the high of his ecstasy until his rapidly pounding slowed and he could final re-wet his dry mouth to speak.

“Fuck, I think we both needed that one,” he said against your skin, his warm breath wafting over the fine spread of moisture along your torso, making you tingle as he kept his cock buried inside. “Ya did so good for me sweetheart.”

You reached a hand out to him and he helped you to sit up and into his lap. Wrapping your arm around his neck you pulled him into a deep kiss, letting your mouths linger together with eyes closed for a few moments as you both finished coming down.

“I’m glad your back,” you whispered as your lips parted.

He cupped your cheek with his palm, staring back into your eyes as he smiled. “I’m glad to be back too,” he returned. "And I'm gonna make sure that I make up for all that lost time."

Tag list: @sillylittlereader @babygirl-riley @jarfullofjizz @jamieelol

[sorrowfulrosebud]

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: in which Katsuki sees you get rid of a scrap book you planned to give him after he broke up with you

The breakup was… rough to say the least. You supposed it could have been described as a perfect mirror image to your relationship to begin with; the crushing pain of Katsuki being Katsuki.

Katsuki cracked his knuckles loudly from outside of the Heights Alliance building as he waited in the cold for you. Everyone was out doing something with the group, and Katsuki could not have been more quietly grateful. Even though he was going to rip your beating heart straight out of your body, he wanted you to maintain the dignity and pride that he had originally fallen in love with.

It wasn’t like Katsuki had woke up that morning and decided that he was going to break up with you; months of inner self-depreciation crept into his thoughts day by day, alongside the crippling realisation of his ex-victim’s strength and progress. The weight of his existence was slowly crashing around him, and he needed all of his attention for his strength.

Unfortunately, that meant cutting away dead weight.

Your happy humming could be heard as you wandered your way to your boyfriend. Your face lightened at the sight of him, before your smile drops at his scowl.

“Hi, Suki! Is everything alright?” You asked him worriedly, head tilted to the side. Katsuki’s scowl deepened, causing you to reach out to him.

“Suki please, you’re starting to worry me,” your voice rang through his ears as his hand locked around your wrist before it could reach his fluffy locks. There was a long pause as you retracted your hand, staring wildly at your boyfriend’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he sneered. If he was going to break your heart, he had to rip it out and shove it in the blender. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took your hand back.

“Katsuki, I-,” you were interrupted by Katsuki.

“Don’t fucking call me that either,” he grunted, shoving his hand in his pocket. Tears threatened to prick at your eyes.

“I’m breaking this thing up. It’s not worth my time at all. I’m training to be the number one hero, so I have no time to waste on other useless shit,” his gaze steeled, no ounce of insincerity to be detected. His words cut deep like a sword, your knees feeling weak as tears cling to your lashes.

“Y-you don’t mean that,” you sniffed. Katsuki let out a gruff laugh.

“Don’t I? Look, I guess it was fun when it started, but my priorities haven’t changed. You were just a distraction, something I could put my mind to. I’m not wasting any more time on you, so just leave me alone. I don’t care what you do, or who you get with. Just don’t fucking talk to me anymore, got it?”

His strength was impressive, you thought. How he could say such horrible things to you without buckling or feeling barbed wire dig into his throat. You could only stare at him with tears in your eyes, before shakily nodding. You turned at your heels and unsteadily walked off, before delving into a run back to the dorms.

Katsuki waited until you left. And he waited. And he waited. Until your sobs could no longer be heard. His body shook, before hushed hiccups and cries left his lips. His exhausted body slumped against the wall, shaky hands knuckling at his wet eyes. Well, his dirty deed was done.

Life afterwards was rough for you. After being together for 10 months, your daily routine stung in ways you didn’t know was possible. You found yourself stopping during tasks you had grown unconscious to; you had to stop texting him during the day. Even just the silly thoughts in your head couldn’t be translated in a text to him.

You could only make protein shakes for one now. Laundry loads grew lighter, snack trips became quicker and physical touch with others withdrew exponentially. For the next month, you rotted in your dorm. You ate when Mina would bring you food, her hugging you tightly and angrily grumbling about how much of a dick her friend was.

You managed to stumble to class when you didn’t oversleep the day away. Insomnia plagued you like the Black Death, tossing and turning as you tearfully mourned the relationship you lost. You arrived to class way later than your ex would, avoiding all eye contact even though you were deskmates. (You soon requested a seat change).

Aizawa had had enough when you stumbled late to his lesson for the 5th time, demanding you stay back after class. You gulped and felt your cheeks heat up, embarrassed that your teacher called you out.

The bell for the end of class sounded, bringing you out of your daze.

“(L/N), stay behind please,” came the tired drone of Mr Aizawa. Mina offered you a smile and a rub on the back as she walked off with Kirishima, throwing you a sympathetic look when she left.

Mr Aizawa cleared his throat as he signalled for you to take a seat in front of his desk. He continued marking some papers as his onyx eyes slightly looked at you.

“Your grades are slipping. You’re arriving late to class. You’re avoiding… certain classmates. If you’re struggling, I’d recommend telling me now and continuing the course. If not, pack your bags and take your grievances elsewhere. We’re training heroes, so you need to be exemplary,” he said bluntly, eyes flickering back to his paper.

You sniffled a little, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr Aizawa. I’ll be better,” you promised dully, wiping your eyes on a tissue. His eyes looked back at you.

“I’m not an idiot. I can tell that you and Bakugou have come to some sort of disagreement. If it can get sorted, I would recommend making up as soon as possible-,” he starts.

“We broke up. He… he dumped me. He said such… horrible things to me. About me,” you whimpered, face screwed up as you clutched your uniform. Aizawa stopped writing before putting down his pen.

“I-I know I’m not exactly as composed as Todoroki, or as fast as Iida or as smart as Yaomomo, but I thought there was something about me that he liked. It just hurts how quickly he discarded me. I’m sorry for disturbing your lessons Mr Aizawa, it won’t happen again,” you quietly cried as you sunk your head in shame.

Only to lift your teary head as Mr Aizawa’s large hand encompassed your scalp. He looked at you with slight concern as you wiped your eyes.

“While it’s true that some of your classmates have advantages that you do not, a real hero doesn’t sell themselves short. Where Todoroki is composed, you’re bubbly and outgoing. Although Iida is fast, he often lacks the ability to let loose and enjoy the small things. And yes, Yaoyorozu is a prodigy student due to private schooling, but you put in the hard work and reap the rewards” his words soothed you as he softly rubbed your head.

“A real hero wouldn’t let someone who had to be chained up at the sports festival make them cry. So don’t sell yourself short. That boy has been in far too many detentions to have the nerve to point out your shortcomings,” he finished, removing his hand and gently pressing his fist into your shoulder.

“Understand me? I’ll let this incident pass if you can prove to me that you can put in the rest of the work and be a hero that everyone can put their faith in.”

The tears returned, but for a completely different reason. You quickly hugged Aizawa, his face immediately shifting into one of discomfort before gingerly patting your back. He let out his signature sly grin.

“Besides, if he tries anything, I can always say to Gang Orca that he needs more classes at the provisional licensing centre.”

You smiled at your home room teacher.

“Thank you Mr Aizawa,” you said, releasing him. He let out a small cough.

“Thank me with your actions. Tell anyone I let you hug me and it’s detention for the next month, understand?” He grilled you.

“I understand sir,” you giggled.

“Now go find Ashido, I can smell her anticipation from here,” he instructed.

“Yes sir.”

After Mr Aizawa’s curt but helpful words, you aimed on self improvement. You focused on bettering a routine, sleeping more and eating healthier. Days you would have spent rotting in bed were forced into activities with your classmates.

The breakup still stung like a knife, but it was easier to manage and slowly dwindled down to a papercut. You hadn’t talked to your ex in 2 months, only sly glances when he wasn’t looking.

Unbeknownst to you, Katsuki was absolutely miserable. Seeing you rot and struggle to cope absolutely murdered him inside knowing that he was the person who ripped your heart out, and that he couldn’t stitch it back together. He managed to keep his own composure, training even harder to avoid seeing you or bumping into you.

He nearly passed out from training, he was overworking so hard. It was his own fault, he knew that. He just couldn’t work past his issues with you there; you didn’t deserve to be at the end of his shitty stick.

The pride he felt when you started cleaning yourself up and interacting more with your classmates made his chest swell. You looked so much more beautiful and radiant; the person he fell in love with.

And dumped.

“Stupid fucking Sparky, gettin’ sick and makin’ me do his chores,” Katsuki grumbled, arms overflowing with bin bags as he stumbled to the large bins. It had been 2 months since your breakup. Or, even worse; your 1 year anniversary.

His heart was absolutely wrecked, but he could now slide quick glances to you without fear of you looking at him. He was so proud that you were able to overcome his asshole behaviour, and hopefully swallow any more feelings that you had about him. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sniffling.

He peeked his head around the corner, dropping the bin bags as quietly as he could. His eyes widened. You were stood near the incinerator, a thick book wedged in your hands.

Tears slowly trickled down your face as you looked at the book. A small smile appeared as you thumbed the cover.

“I… I thought we would have made it. I don’t know, I thought it was all going so well. I know I’ll never probably understand what was going through your head that day, but… it’s time to let go of the past,” you say quietly, rubbing your teary eyes as you open the incinerator door.

“I loved you, god fucking damnit! More than I think I could have ever loved anyone! I suppose a small part of me always will now, though. I just thought we had a better chance. Happy one year anniversary, Katsuki,” you finish as you let out a sob, throwing the book into the furnace. You ran off before checking that the book was fully inside the furnace, slamming the door and running back inside.

Katsuki waited until your steps made no noise, before running forward and pulling the book from the furnace. It was a scrapbook; the book was ridiculously chunky, with glitter glue and doodles smothering the outside, as well as stickers from your combined favourite TV shows. The furnace had charred a large chunk of the book, the smell permeating his nose.

Then he saw your names scrawled neatly in cursive. His heart started to thud as he thumbed the pages.

Polaroid photos of you on dates were plastered neatly on the pages; some photos he remembered, others he had no recollection of. Movie ticket stubs, post it notes with cute messages detailing your affections, stickers you gifted each other, silly photos from photo booths that you dragged him into.

Each page was a flash of white-hot pain. There were photos of him during a festival winning you a fish from a difficult carnival game, his eyes smoked beautifully with eyeliner as he grinned (and won the fish). He wonders if you still had it.

Another photo of his birthday party. The two of you had snuck off to your favourite spot in the woods, where he found that you had created your own picnic spot with a spread of his favourite foods. Photos of shy hand-holding, of him resting in your lap and vice versa.

Katsuki was struggling to see the paper for the tears he tried so desperately to blink away before reaching the last page. A whole page was filled with your writing, and Katsuki had to knuckle his eyes to read it.

Dearest Katsuki,

Wow, a year already! I’m so happy that we’ve come so far, my love. I’m so indebted to you for everything that you’ve done for me; helped me with training, putting up with me, hell even just being there for me.

I know I’m not exactly the easiest to get along with, I know I’m easily excitable and not exactly quiet. I love and appreciate that you can listen to me and not get bored, just as I do with you.

Training to be a hero is hard work, so I’m so thankful that you’ve chosen to take your journey with me, even though you’re training so hard to become number one.

I love you more than words can ever describe; you’re the reason I wake up everyday. I adore you, and I hope we can have many more years together kicking ass and beating Deku >o<

Lots and lots and lots of love,

Your (N/N)

Katsuki couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down his face. Reading your words of quiet insecurity, thanking him for things that he threw right back into your face like you were nothing made his heart ache so badly.

He clutched the scrapbook to his chest tightly, sending silent but desperate apologies to you as his head sunk to the floor. Guttural cries escaped him as his choices swirled through his head. The scrapbook’s cover buckled due to the force of his grip as he sobbed his heart out.

Months of self deprecation caught up to him as he craved your touch; he wanted you to hear him, to turn around and hold him tightly to your chest and never ever let go ever again. He needed your sweet affirmations as you played with his hair; “my number one hero,” you would croon as you hugged your tired boyfriend.

His stupid pride got in his way once again, and he finally came to the one conclusion he should have met those 2 fateful months ago.

He couldn’t do this without you.

The trip back to Heights Alliance was a painful one, but Mina hugged away your issues as soon as she saw your misty orbs.

“I’m so proud of you for doing this bestie. You deserve so much better. It’s time to let go of the past,” she told you softly, pink hair tickling your face. You smiled at your best friend.

“Thank you for everything Mina, I really mean it,” you sniffle, wiping your nose and taking a deep breath. You let go of your friend as you smiled at her.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap, training was super rough today,” you told her, squeezing her hand as she squeezes back.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything. Sleep well, and I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready,” Mina promised, giving you one last hug.

You gave her a wan smile as you walked to your dorm room, throwing a pained look at your exes room. You shook your head as you unlocked the door and got changed into some comfy clothes. Tired bones sunk onto your bed as you let out a sigh.

“It’s time to let go of the past,” you murmur as you fell asleep. As soon as you were about to beat Shigaraki to a pulp, a loud knocking on your door pulled you from your dream.

The knocking was quiet at first, then grew louder, more desperate. You thought it was Mina, and that you had skipped dinner.

You let out a tired laugh, getting out of bed and redoing your hair.

“Okay, okay Mina, I’m coming-“ your voice was cut short as you opened the door, seeing a disgruntled ex staring at the floor.

Clutched tightly in his hand was the scrapbook, as you looked on in shock. How did he get it?! He wasn’t there when you- oh fuck.

Katsuki raised his head, volcanic eyes plagued with tears as he wildly searched your face. He gingerly reached for your hand before sinking to his knees, placing your hand on his face.

“P-please take me back. I know I was a dick, but I’m willing to show you all of my vulnerabilities. Please baby,” he raised his head again.

“I can’t live without you.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Scarlet and Gold.

Pairing: Yandere!Diluc x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.1k.

TW: Sex Doll AU, Unhealthy Relationships, Gore (No Injury To Reader), Blood, Implied Consensual Sex, Past Trauma, Obsessive Behavior, and Intimidation.

By the time you reached the address, Diluc was already waiting in the lobby.

You’d gotten the call about an hour ago, spent half an hour dragging yourself out of bed and gathering what you’d need before making the twenty minute drive to an apartment complex on the other side of town, careful to avoid any security cameras the cops would think to check if anyone requested an investigation. Five more to park and throw your well-worn duffle bag over your shoulder and three to find Diluc, loitering near the elevators, fiddling with a loose cigarette he would never light. You greeted him with a quick nod before throwing your bag into his chest, and he feigned a groan, stumbling back as he caught it. He needed to work on his impressions, but that could wait.

You spoke first. That, you couldn’t critique him on – most androids couldn’t speak until spoken to, and you couldn’t expect Diluc to go against one of the core tenants of his programming. “What is it?”

“Just the usual.” He kept his voice low, muted, trying to hide the remaining traces of an accent that’d been invented by some marketing team over a decade ago. “I’ve already seen the apartment. There’s a little blood, but not much else. We’ll be done by sunrise.”

You took the stairs, keeping your head bowed and face shielded from any possible security cameras. Diluc didn’t share your paranoia, staring straight ahead with the same indifferent expression he always seemed to wear. The benefits of having a face that’d been printed and distributed tens of thousands of times, you guessed. Tracking down a single Diluc in a sea of androids and companion bots wasn’t a length most detectives were willing to go to. “I’d rather not have to do this at all.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Says the man who doesn’t have to sleep.” You came to a stop in front of the first door on the fourth story and tried the knob. It gave easily, the cheap titanium dented and the lock broken beyond any hope of repair. Diluc’s handiwork, obviously, although you couldn’t say whether or not he’d done it on purpose. “Anything else you want to tell me, before we get started?”

He thought, for a second. “I passed a carousel on the way here,” he said, with no particular inflection. “It was nice. I thought the horses were well-crafted.”

“About the assignment, ‘luc.”

“Oh,” And then, with a hint of red in his pale cheek. “You might want to hold your breath.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. As soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the stomach-turning stench of stale blood and rotting gore, both at least a week old. You cursed, pulling your shirt over your nose and mouth, but pushed forward. The first body was splayed out in the center of the cramped living room, wrists and ankles bound with disembodied wiring, all clothing removed and chest dotted with black ink. The abdomen had been cut open, skin peeled away to reveal the entrails in their full, shriveled glory. Judging by the number of blades littered around the corpse, ranging from blunted scissors to gore-splattered carving knives, it’d been more of a hack job than a dissection.

Diluc had undersold the mess. Blood had soaked into the carpeting and dried, turning the floor a ruddy, reddish-brown color. What was left had gotten on the walls, the furniture, the ceiling. You swallowed back a groan. The furniture could be broken down and discarded, the walls and ceiling bleached. The carpeting, though, would have to be torn up and replaced, which meant you would have to spend a few more precious minutes of your night calling in a cleaning crew. That, or you would have to make Diluc do it, but he was shy around new people, and you were too much of a bleeding heart to sit back and watch him do your work.

“The second body’s in the bedroom.” He was already rummaging through your duffle bag, paying the scene in front of you no more mind that a butcher would lend to a pig on a meat hook. He handed you your tools – a pair of wire cutters, a box cutter, and a pocket-sized sewing kit – and kept the rest for himself. “Let me know when you’re done.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “I thought you would’ve gotten over that by now, ‘luc.”

He didn’t indulge you with a response, only pulling on a pair of latex gloves and starting towards the corpse. You didn’t stick around to watch. Rather, you followed the carnage where it branched off further into the apartment, a trail of rotting viscera and tacky blood leading you into a moderately sized, completely undecorated bedroom. You found your perpetrator quickly; a Dottore droid, still wearing its Teyvat-issued costuming, its hands bloody and a scrap of intestine still caught in its pointed teeth. You paused in the doorway, feeling for the military-grade taser (the only weapon effective against androids, as far as anyone could tell) you kept in your pocket, but the android didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t activate at all when you reluctantly approached. There was a charging port at the foot of the bed, still pristine. It must’ve run out of battery just before it could plug itself in.

Towels from the nearest bathroom were dampened and brought in, the evidence of slaughter scrubbed away from artificial skin and its blood-soaked clothing removed. It was muscle memory, by now – dragging the body to its charging port, knocking the converter out of the outlet before connecting the android to its port, making it seem like its late user had drained its batteries before mistakenly leaving it on a dead cable. When it’d slummed into place, you took up your box cutter and sliced a long, thin line from the lowest portion of the scalp to the nape of its neck, revealing the color-coded string of wires that connected the processing units in its metal skull to the rest of its body. You cut through everything you could find, ensuring that if the unit was ever activated again, it wouldn’t be able to do so much as blink. For good measure, you fished out the memory chip kept in the centermost compartment of the throat, too, crushing it under your heel and sweeping the glittering remnants underneath the bed. A copy of the footage it collected would’ve been sent to Teyvat's severs, too, but erasing it was someone else’s job. You were only here to take care of yourself.

With a breathy groan, you bit off a length of thread and haphazardly stitched up your ragged incision. The cosmetics really didn’t matter. In a few days, when someone filed a missing person’s report and the cops stopped by for a check-in, they’d find a spotless apartment, a dysfunctional android, and nothing else. The investigation would lead elsewhere, to a bitter ex-partner or a friend without an alibi, or it would hit a dead end. Either way, Teyvat wouldn’t be involved.

You slipped back out of the bedroom, careful to avoid touching anything you didn’t absolutely have to. By the time you got back to the living room, the body was gone and Diluc was kneeling by a black suitcase no larger than the average carry-on, securing the tags with transparent zip-ties. You and Diluc would haul it to a dump on the outskirts of the city tonight, and a contact of yours would have it compressed and incinerated by tomorrow morning. Maybe, when you were done, you’d take him out for something to eat. Or, you’d get something to eat while he let a mug of black coffee go cold.

You rested your hand on his shoulder by way of praise, pulling away when he stiffened underneath you. Right, that was something you had to work on. Most rogue androids tended to be touch-adverse at best, made aggressive by little more than eye-contact at worst. Diluc was relatively tame compared to most of the cases you handled, but you would still rather not provoke him. “Did you find the phone?”

He grunted, fishing a smartphone out of his pocket. With your sleeve pulled over your hand, you accepted it, found the nearest window, and chucked it as far as into the night as you could. Diluc appeared over your shoulder. “Forty-five meters,” he said, as glass crashed into cement somewhere in the distance. “Above average for non-athletes.”

“I’ve been practicing.” The window was closed, the suitcase slung over Diluc’s shoulder along with your near-empty duffle bag. “I have to make a call. You can meet me in the garage, if you want.” Already pulling up the number to your preferred cleaning service, you glanced to Diluc. “Are we doing breakfast?”

His posture straightened. “Yes.” If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought you saw a spark in his glass eyes. “I want to try tea, today.”

~

By the time you got to the door, Diluc was soaking wet.

You hadn’t gotten a call, and he didn’t text. The first warning you got was a knock on your door, then another a few minutes later, after you decided that anyone who’d go out in this kind of weather wasn’t someone you wanted in your shoebox of an apartment. You only caved after the third, imagining a neighbor who’d gotten locked out or some lost, desperate tourist as you dragged yourself off of your couch and to the unlit entryway. Predictably, Diluc stood in your doorway, red hair plastered to his scalp and clothes drenched, not that he seemed to mind.

“Can you—” He paused, his dull eyes meeting yours as he ran his fingers through his hands, dragging the crimson heap out of his face. “Can you cut my hair?”

Ten minutes later, he was sitting on a stool in your cramped bathroom, wearing grey sweatpants and a (three sizes too big on you, just a touch too small on him) t-shirt while his own clothes dried. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary, that he didn’t feel the cold like you did. When you told him that you didn’t want an univited guest tracking water into your apartment, he accepted it with a curt nod and changed in your bedroom.

After prepping your razor, you positioned yourself behind him, dragging a comb through his hair. It was long enough to reach his waist, curled at the end to make him seem just a touch more disheveled than he actually was. Everything about his hair, from the length of his bangs to the way it could never quite sit completely flat, was perfectly stylized, perfectly crafted to convey Diluc Ragnvindr, Calvery Captain of the Favonious Knights, the only gentleman you’ll ever need again. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that didn’t mourn ruining such a well-executed vision. “You sure about this?” you asked, as you brushed it out. “It can’t exactly grow back.”

“I am.” And then, after a second of thought, “I’d do it myself, but there’s a safe-guard. Can’t damage the merchandise without a direct order from my user.”

Hence why Teyvat needed you in the first place. “How short do you want it?”

“I don’t care, as long as it’s different.”

You hummed, taking up your scissors. “If you say so, boss.”

You cut away everything below his shoulders, then took up your electric razor – running it over the back of his neck. As you worked, Diluc spoke. “How did you start?” You took up your comb, brushing back his bangs and pasting his hair to the side. “With Teyvat, I mean.”

You tasted blood on the back of your tongue, felt a chill run up your spine. You brushed it off, though, refusing to let yourself fall back into that little steel room with those awful golden eyes again. “They brought me on as a technician,” you admitted. You still were one, technically, on your employment transcript, when people outside of your little world asked what you did for a living. “A first-generation Zhongli we were working on went rogue and reverted to its original Morax programming. It wiped out most of my team before security bothered to show up.” You didn’t tell him about the minutes you’d spent hiding in a steel locker, praying its heat sensors had been removed, or the hours it’d taken upper management to decide what to do with you. To people like Diluc, who could take a bullet to the head without faltering, topics like ‘building dread’ and ‘the imminent fear of death’ tended to fall flat. “Since I was already in on their dirty little secret, they decided to keep me on. I didn’t really get a choice. It wasn’t like another job was going to fall into my lap after something like that.”

With your hand under his chin, you turned his head to the side. “Your turn, ‘luc.”

“I… I think I used to be a companion, but something went wrong.” His bangs were next, taken up and coaxed into sitting somewhere other than the dead center of his face. “It’s hard to describe. We aren’t supposed to think about things that aren’t our master,” The word came out hitched, unsteady, like he had to force it past his lips. Like he hadn’t wanted to say it at all. “But I could. It was like… waking up with the ability to fly. I wasn’t supposed to, but I could, and that meant I couldn’t do what I was built to, anymore.”

A thumb pressed into his jaw, a comb dragged across his scalp. Diluc’s eyes fell shut, but else about his blank expression changed. “And? Do you like it?”

“Sometimes.” His shoulders slanted downward. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.” You let go of his chin, letting him turn back to the vanity’s mirror. “What do you think?”

It was far from a masterpiece. The sides were too short, the front too long, every part of it still as untamable as it’d been in its original state. Still, he took it in with wide eyes, the corner of his lips turning upward ever so slightly.

“It’s perfect.”

~

By the time he got back, you’d nearly fallen asleep.

With your body as wrung out as it was, your energy spent to the point of near unconsciousness, it was all you could do to watch through your eyelashes as Diluc appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, a towel thrown over his shoulder and that tiny, almost undetectable smile still painted across his lips. You’d done this enough for him to know how to navigate your apartment, to know how to navigate you – shifting onto your mattress slowly as he positioned himself between your legs. He’d gotten more used to contact since you started seeing each other, but his touch was still ginger, still gentle as he dragged the dampened cloth over the inside of your thighs. With a groan, you rolled onto your back, spreading your legs and giving him more space to work.

You’d been confused at first, but for all the eloquence Diluc lacked, he could be convincing when he wanted to be. You still weren’t sure how much of it you believed, but it made enough sense – a buried impulse, dampened by his newfound sentience but not quite drowned out. He didn’t want another user, he’d said, but he still had requirements to fill, and this would help to take the edge off.

You couldn’t complain, either. People coughed up tens of thousands of dollars for companion droids, and here you were, being paid six figures a year to close your eyes and let one bury his face between your thighs once or twice a week. The coddling wasn’t bad, either. Your line of work meant most of the people you met had stopped breathing a few days prior, and as loathed as you’d be to admit it, you didn’t hate the feeling of his delicate hands skirting over your skin, didn’t mind it when your eyes drifted open and met his, already fixed on your face. He bowed his head, dipping low enough for his lips to ghost over the curve of your hip before breaking the silence. “A sight as radiant as the rising sun.”

You let out a breath of a chuckle. “I didn’t think you used pre-scripted lines, anymore.”

“I don’t.” He preened, clearly more proud of himself than in-awe of you. “I thought of that one myself.”

This time, your laugh was throaty, genuine, loud enough to ring off the wall of your bedroom as you shoved him away with your foot. “If you want to be romantic, you can start by getting me something to drink, loverboy.”

He provided no resistance, disappearing into your dark apartment and reappearing with a glass of water in his hand a few minutes later. He handed it off to you with an easy smile, and you could almost pretend you didn’t see a phantom of gold in those dark eyes as his fingertips brushed against yours.

~

By the time you thought to reach for your taser, the android was already charging at you.

It was an Alhaitham, dressed in civilian clothes and sporting a ragged tear across the synthetic skin of his cheek. He was still standing over the corpse of his user – days old, by the time you and Diluc got there – but as you opened the door, he turned to face you, lips parted and his expression totally, utterly blank. For a second, it was all you could do to stare at him, to try to remember whether or not your report had mentioned the android being active, and then he was lunging at you.

You scrambled for your taser, already knowing you couldn’t be able to reach it before he reached you. You clenched your eyes shut, your fingers brushing against plastic, and then—

And then you felt Diluc’s hand on your shoulder, heard metal crack and fold into itself. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, forcing yourself to take in the sight of Diluc’s hand wrapped around the android’s head which had been, in turn, reduced to a crumpled heap of scrap metal and shattered glass. Its body twitched once, twice, then went limp, and Diluc released it, letting the now-dysfunctional droid collapse.

After it failed to get up again, Diluc turned to you, practically beaming. “I think,” he said, his voice low, sentimental. “That this is what I’d do to you, if you ever tried to leave me.”

Golden eyes, the stench of fresh blood, the sounds of screaming muffled only by a thin sheet of metal. This time, it wasn’t so easy to pull yourself out of it.

You managed to nod, to force a few words out of your dry throat. “Got it, ‘luc.”

 He hummed, the noise contented, appeased. Slowly, delicately, he cupped your cheek, tilting your head back and letting his lips ghost over your forehead. He barely touched you, the gesture as gentle as it was fleeting, but you could feel his grin cutting into your skin, wider than you’d ever seen it before.

[thebookbutterfly]

Hey there! Could you possibly write a Sandor Clegane x gender neutral reader where Sandor has a soft spot for reader and reader feels the same? He tries to hide it but one day reader get’s hurt and he patches them up and maybe confessions come out?

🦋 Little Bird— Sandor Clegane x gn!Reader

Summary: You get injured in an ambush. Sandor carries you to safety and takes care of you.

Tags: #so much hurt/comfort, #a teensy bit of angst, #fluffy ending, #potentially OOC Sandor Clegane but personally I think he is pretty baby girl, #request

Warnings: Gender Neutral, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of death, cannon compliant threats of violence, no beta and no ‘ragrets' [1,371 words]

AN: This is a request by @agender-wolfie. I really hope that this is what you were looking for! It came out a bit longer than I intended, but I am such a sucker for hurt/comfort tropes I really shouldn’t be surprised lmao. I wrote this all in one sitting and I haven’t done any editing so please excuse any errors. Happy reading! 🦋 Love BB

If you like this work my requests are currently open! So please give me your ideas ;)

You hissed a curse, gravelly and threadbare, as Sandor sidestepped another fallen tree.

A jumble of vulgar expressions that barely registered to you as they left your mouth. Almost all of them taught to you by the giant man holding you to his chest. The hound cradled you surprisingly gently, but his tension was evident. It was written all over him.

His scarred face, which you so rarely got the opportunity to study, was pulled into a broken grimace. The rest of him taut like a wire ready to snap beneath his armour. If you weren’t bleeding all over him, you might have reached up to prod the furrow of his brow. A silly attempt to smooth away Sandor’s permanent scowl.

The thought shattered as another wave pain tore through your ribs. Every bump in the path sowing fresh agony in the ruined skin and muscle.

Sandor ran a calloused thumb over the side of your knee in apology. Uttering clumsy noises of comfort as he picked up the pace.

“We’re almost there. Hold on just a bit longer, little bird.”

His gruff voice was cut with a noticeable amount of panic. Your brow scrunched at the unusual sound. You had gotten used to many things about Sandor as you travelled North with him. His rough sense of humour, bitter attitude, scarred face and huge stature were familiar to you by now. Underneath those things, his kindness and his softheartedness had become apparent to you too.

All the vulnerable pieces of himself that he smothered and choked beneath layers of vulgar humour and recklessness, had been presented to you in glimpses as you got to know him. But panic? Panic was new to you.

The farmhouse that Sandor had marked out in the distance finally drew into view. Up close it was a measly grey thing. The stone masonry looked haphazard at best but its chimney puffed with life. Behind it a barn lay with its doors open and rattling in the freezing wind.

You expected Sandor to head straight for the shelter of the barn but instead he strode to the front door. The family of four, seated around the dining room table inside, scrambled back as he slammed open the door with his usual subtlety. Which was to say— none at all.

You groaned as the sudden movement jostled your wound. Normally you would have chastised him for being so rude but your head was swimming. Too weak to lift your hand, you focused your energy on your eyes. Willing them to stay open, if not for your sake then for the sake of your worried companion.

An old man stepped forward to speak but Sandor cut him off, “One of you better be a healer, because if they die I will mount all of your heads outside on sticks.”

It was an ugly threat and they paled. The youngest boy whimpered looking suddenly ill. A younger woman with dark hair and a generous smattering of freckles stepped forward. She gestured a slightly shaky hand towards the table before him, before turning to her family.

“Clear the table, quickly. We can lay them down here,” her attention shifted back to the massive man standing in the doorway, “I’m not a healer by profession but I’ll do everything I can.”

Sandor seemed pleased enough by this answer. The rest of the family had been wise enough not to put up a fight and so Sandor stepped forward. He eased his grip and lay you down on the hastily cleared surface.

He moved to step away and let this stranger do her work but you whimpered. Fingertips clutching at air until he shifted back into reach.

A leather belt was stuffed between your teeth as your tunic was torn up the side. Unfamiliar hands grasped at your arms and legs. Holding you down with a bruising grip. All the while, Sandor brushed his bloodied fingers over your forehead and through your hair. The warmth of his skin a small consolation for the pain you were about to endure.

The woman lifted a needle and thread. With a glance at Sandor and his affirming nod she began to count down and you closed your eyes, unable to look.

Three.

Two.

One.

Fire. Your body was on fire. You arched off the table. Trying to escape the agony, the needle slowly piecing your flesh back together. The table shook as you thrashed but the hands holding you down didn’t falter. Sandor’s gravely words of comfort were the last things ringing in your ears as the world went black.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the lack of pain. Your side still ached, the wound tender, but it was a dull throbbing now. No longer, the screaming torture it was as Sandor carried you away from where you were ambushed.

The second was the warmth. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this warm since you and Sandor had journeyed across the border into the North. Sandor.

You opened your eyes slowly. The lighting was dim but from what you could tell you were inside the barn. The door was closed now though and soft orange candlelight illuminated the space.

You lay on your good side underneath a thick layer of blankets, and next to you lay the man your eyes sought for. His arm tucked you to him, large calloused hand resting somewhere on your lower back.

His heart thudded rhythmically beneath where your head lay on his chest. His even breathing and faint snores filled the quiet. Despite your inner protests it was the most comfortable you had been in years.

You gazed up at him, not wanting to wake him just yet. Sandor didn’t sleep nearly enough and you were content to watch the way the candlelight danced across his skin. It caught on his scarred cheek. Shadows flickering on the panes of his face.

Unable to resist you lifted a hand to his cheek. Your touch was featherlight but his eyes snapped open. Sandor’s gaze flicked to you immediately. Scanning you for distress and finding none, his body relaxed.

“Seven Hells, I thought you were going to die. Never do that again,” he said gruffly. His cheeks were flushed but he made no move to shift away from you.

Your voice was cracked from screaming but you still managed to mumble, “M’Sorry.”

Sandor sighed, “It wasn’t your fault, little bird.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a water-skein. Unscrewing the top he held it out towards you.

“Here, drink. Then you can go back to sleep,” he said.

“Thank you.”

The moisture eased the pain in your throat and soon you were snuggled back up under Sandor’s arm. The wind howled through the rafters and you both sat in silence for a little while.

Your thoughts broke the quiet, “Thank you for carrying me here. Thank you for staying.”

Sandor’s eyes met yours, they were unguarded and soft in a way that seemed reserved for you. Reserved for these conversations in the dark.

His voice was low as he replied, “I would have carried you to the ends of the earth, little bird.”

You studied him, the scars that mottled his skin, the cut on his brow and the curl of his mouth. Something deep within you settled, like a cat stretching out on a rug.

“You’re a good man, Sandor Clegane,” you said.

The conviction in your voice hit him harder than any blow on the battlefield ever had. The tidal wave of emotions that followed threatened to take him under but he swallowed them down.

You pretended not to notice his watery eyes and he lifted his spare hand to stroke your head. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

You nodded sleepily, too tired to fight it off any longer. A few seconds pass before you feel it. The soft press of his lips on your forehead. They linger there for a while before he pulls back, the warmth that they leave behind searing like a brand on your skin. You smile as you drift off, lulled to sleep by his warm embrace and steady breathing.

“Goodnight, little bird.”