#LOOK. LOOK AT HOW HE LOVES YOU - he cannot allow himself to move past the hateful person he became to survive. the person he became | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toshidou · 2 years

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lighthouse for a lost comrade . . .

Pairing // Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word count // 4.9k

Tags // 18+ ONLY, AFAB reader, soft simon riley, written from simon's perspective, mild descriptions of injury and blood, hurt and comfort, aka simon finally allows himself to be looked after <3, he is a big boy with a heart that yearns to be loved you cannot convince me otherwise, the softest of smut, praise, you accidentally give ghost a 'sir' kink, reader calls ghost sir a couple of times because they're hot like that, unprotected sex (tut tut), creampie, a whole lot of swearing

AN // i love this man a ridiculous amount, so me writing nearly 5k about how much i love him was inevitable

AO3 link here

Simon Riley is not a man who cares about his own health. In fact, his wellbeing never has, and never will be a priority to him. He has work to do, gruelling, gritty, gruesome work, it is beyond pointless wasting time even thinking about when he last had more than 3 hours sleep, or how long it’s been since he consumed anything other than cold military rations. In his defence, he’s never really had a reason to give a shit, he sees the hourglass whenever he allows himself to close his eyes; watches the sand slip rapidly through the cracks, counting down until his inevitable, most likely painful death. He’s living life on a timer, and he’s never had a reason to change that.

Until he met you.

You were a wide-eyed rookie, Laswell bringing you into the fold as a technician, a skilled hacker and mechanic who despite your innocent doe eyes, held lethal talents. He remembers so vividly, the way your head had cocked to the side as Laswell introduced you to the peculiar members of task force 141, remembers the way your eyes stopped on him. You showed not a single ounce of fear or hesitance, just pure unbridled curiosity. That same curiosity led you to asking him far too many questions, relentlessly prying to see more of the man behind the mask, to see Simon Riley, rather than ‘Ghost’. It should have pissed him off, he should have reprimanded you for your callousness towards your Lieutenant, but somehow you knew exactly which questions to ask, knew exactly when to stop and move on to other subjects.

Contrary to popular belief, Simon doesn’t hide his past, doesn’t try to use it to fuel the mysterious and mythical reputation he’s unwittingly built. It’s just that no one ever asks. Maybe it’s something about the skull mask, or the egregiously high kill count he sits so casually on top of that has people wary of ever approaching him. But you—you had no hesitation. You read him like a goddamn book every single time, and it simultaneously terrified and relieved him.

One glance and every secret he shoved behind his balaclava is left bare before you, leaving him with a vulnerable, gaping wound in the shape of a lifetime of trauma and tales that Simon knows no person should ever have to experience. And yet, your eyes hold not an ounce of pity, no awkward silences attempting to be alleviated with an awkward pat on the back and a “that sounds rough, buddy”. You see his past, his pain, his suffering, his bad habits, without him ever having to explicitly say anything. And in return, you say nothing. You don’t try and mollify him about circumstances he’s moved on from long ago, you make no effort to coddle him, to sit him down and patronisingly ask him if he’s doing well, or when the last time he slept was.

Instead, you leave him cutely packaged leftovers on his doorstep, easy meals he can throw in the microwave when he’s too tired to even comprehend making food. You buy him a multitude of jigsaws and puzzles for when sleep evades him as it so often does. You never once try to change him, never force yourself into his life just so you can claim that you’re some selfless martyr. To Simon Riley, you are nothing short of a blessing, and falling in love with you was quite frankly the easiest thing he’s ever done.

He takes off the mask for the first time when neither of you were prepared, nor expecting it. The mission had been so fucking rough, camped out in the middle of nowhere on the hunt for someone he was sure had long since gone. Weeks spent trudging through thick mud, swimming upriver, tracking footprints that led nowhere, steered them to no one. His bone-deep exhaustion finally caught up with him after being shot in the leg and falling nearly 75 metres off of a cliff, plunging into the water below. Price had insisted he go straight to the medic tent back at basecamp, but then simply sighed and shook his head, resigned, as he watched Simon limp off the chopper, and in the exact opposite direction.

To most, this would be the latest example of Simon Riley once again disregarding his health for the sake of keeping up the stoic, strong mask he never let slip. Yet this time, Simon Riley was not disregarding his health, he was, for maybe the first time, trying to preserve what little of it he had left. His leg was near numb by the time he made it to your tent, his foggy mind quickly soothed by the sound of you humming along to the radio, accompanied by the rapid clicking of keys as you worked on some coding. It takes him hissing in discomfort as he attempts to remove his military boots for you to turn around, eyes going impossibly wide as you watch an alarmingly large pool of red grow at his feet.

“Jesus Christ Ghost, are you trying to redecorate my floor?” He kept his mouth shut, using the last dregs of his energy to keep his gaze pinned on you, dark brown irises following your every move as you usher him into the chair you occupied merely seconds before, gingerly hovering your hands over the drenched material that clings to his thigh, soaked in blood and water.

“I’m going to cut the material above the wound, okay? I need to see what I’m working with here.” Your eyes connect with his unwavering gaze, translating his silence into a language that has taken you an eerily short period of time to become fluent in. He watches you nod to yourself, can pinpoint the cogs turning in your mind, can practically see you write the list of how best to deal with this situation as you unpack your first aid kit. Somehow, despite his leg stinging like a bitch, despite how utterly worn he feels, so raw and rough around the edges, he feels at peace.

Price may think he was a stupid bastard for not seeing one of their trained medics, but Simon knows without a doubt that you will always be the best thing for him, you will always be the first port of call, the lighthouse that guides him oh so safely to shore, to home. Even when your stitches are a little uneven, even when you dab a little too much alcohol disinfectant onto his wound, even when you wince every time the muscle in his leg twitches involuntarily, he watches you pour every ounce of care and tenderness into every touch, watches you take care of him in a way no one else ever could, not that he’d let them.

You’re finishing off wrapping up the wound on his thigh when Simon realises he doesn’t want this moment to be over. He selfishly craves more of your delicate, gentle care, unsure if he could ever have this again after tonight, if he deserved it.

So, he waits. He waits for you to lean back on your haunches, bending back to check your handiwork with a satisfied smile tugging at your pretty lips. He waits for your eyes to drift to his, as they so often do, and then he speaks.

“I uh, I got hurt here too,” The words grate against his throat like sandpaper, rough and unsure as he lifts his hand to prod at his cheek, “think I hit a rock in the water after falling.” You stand immediately, eyebrows furrowed together as your fingers gently brush the small rip in his mask.

“I can’t see much with this in the way, Ghost, though I think you’ll live.”

Simon couldn't pinpoint exactly what had his fingers hooking under his mask, couldn’t single it down to any particular moment or word that had him pulling the black material over his chin, and up past his nose, he just knew it felt right. All he focused on was the way your lips fell agape, how your hands lifted automatically towards his wrists, whether to stop them or encourage them further he didn’t know, but he sure as fuck clocked the slight tilt to your head, taking him immediately back to when you first laid eyes on him.

You were looking at Simon in a way he can’t say he’s ever experienced. Like a complicated mixture of guilt and awe. But he feels no fear, no regret as he throws the skull balaclava unceremoniously onto the floor, and directly into the pool of blood he’d left by the door.

“Should be a little easier to see now, don’t you think?”

All he gets in return is a small huff of a laugh, the ghost of your breath fanning across his exposed face, he swears he’s never felt anything as sweet. That is until your hand comes to cup his face, shudders erupting down his spine when the pads of your impossibly soft fingers brush just under the superficial cut on his cheek.

“I don’t know Si, I think we might have to amputate.” You murmur, an overly dramatic lilt to your voice as you pretend to further examine the ‘wound’. And Jesus fucking Christ, if he isn’t so impossibly, incredibly fond of you.

“That bad, huh doc?” He leans forward, just enough to catch the way your pupils dilate, the slight hitch to your usually even breath, “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to save it? I’m particularly fond of that cheek.” He drinks in the soft hum you give in response, watches you with rapt attention as you lean further forward, and nearly passes the fuck out when you press your lips to his upper cheekbone, because what the fuck.

Before this, Simon Riley could say with absolute certainty that he’d never once blushed in his life, but now? He could feel the blood rushing to his face, knowing without a doubt that you could feel the heat radiating from where your fingers and lips remain connected to his skin. His wide eyes, blackened around the sockets from a mixture of paint and week-long exhaustion, remain firmly fixed on you, hardly hesitating before he secures your hand against his face the second he feels you pulling away.

There are no words exchanged, nothing but shallow breaths and searching eyes before Simon allows himself to be selfish just this once and pulls you onto his uninjured thigh, guiding you to sit with his other hand, fingers digging ever so slightly into the meat of your hip. And now he has you here, right where he’s always wanted you, there’s not a chance in hell he’s ever letting you go.

“Please kiss me, Simon.”

As if he could ever say no to you.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He removes his hand from your wrist, dragging his scarred knuckles as delicately as he possibly can across your cheek, fanning out his fingers around the side of your face, using the leverage to guide you impossibly closer. He allows himself one last look, tracing his gaze from your lidded eyes to your lips before he lets his eyelids fall shut, and loses himself in you. Loses every ounce of tension and exhaustion under the ministrations of your fingers as they tangle into his hair, and finally, fucking finally, he feels his once cold, dead heart thrum to life as you sigh contentedly against his lips. Kiss of life in-fucking-deed.

He's lost in every inch of you, can’t get over how soft and warm the plush of your waist is under his fingers, how responsive you are when he slides his hand ever so slightly under your oversized t-shirt. He wants more, he needs more, can’t help himself as he moves his kisses from your lips, down your jaw, until he reaches the base of your throat, sucking deep purple bruises into your supple skin.

“You taste like heaven,” He’s all too aware of how raspy his voice has become, desire only deepening his tone further as he drags his lips back up the expanse of your throat, a deep groan pulled from his throat when he feels you shift on his lap, highlighting the growing pressure of his cock straining against his pants. “Driving me fuckin’ wild already. Look what you’ve done to me, gorgeous.” His fingers come to curl under your jaw, directing your gaze down to the prominent tenting of his trousers, ensuring his eyes don’t dare drift away from your face as he watches you take in the view before you.

“Mine.”

The noise Simon makes in response is nothing short of primal, it wasn’t a sound he was even aware he could make, near guttural, but of course you would be the one to pull it out of him.

“That’s right baby, all yours, fucking hell,” he’s powerless to stop his eyes squeezing shut when he feels your fingers curl around his clothed cock, mustering every ounce of strength he has left not to cum in his pants there and then, because he’ll be fucking damned if he lets anything get in the way of giving you the pleasure you deserve.

“Come on Si, look at me.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he finally opens his eyes again, instantly zeroing in on your fingers as they begin to unfasten his pants, before flicking back up to meet your gaze, “Is this okay?”, your voice tentative.

“More than okay, Jesus,” Simon wastes little time after that, hands sliding under your shirt and shifting further up your torso, muscles freezing when his hand contacts nothing but bare skin, grazing the flesh of your breasts.

“No bra? Lucky me.” You laugh, arching your back further into his touch.

“More like lucky me, those things are basically torture devices, Simon, I’d like to see you try and work with metal wire and straps digging into your boobs and back,” He grins, pinching one of your nipples between two of his calloused fingers and revelling in the way your smirk twists into a moan, hips twitching against the rough material of his cargo pants.

“I think it’s about time you took these off,” He mutters, one hand dropping to thumb under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought about how pretty you’d look getting yourself off on my lap.” Apparently, Simon doesn’t need to say anymore, watching with intense eyes as you pull away from his grip, and begin undressing. Your top joins his mask on the floor, soon followed by your pants and underwear until you’re stood in all your naked glory, mere inches away from him. Simon must be the luckiest son of a bitch on this entire fucking planet.

He takes advantage of your absence by lifting his hips, cocking an eyebrow at you as he gestures towards his trousers, “Give an injured soldier a hand, would you doll?” Truthfully, Simon knows he would have no issues removing them himself, but why would he do that when he can have this instead? When he can have your body pressed in between his thighs, your deft hands undoing his buttons and sliding the material of his military pants slowly over his wrapped-up leg, when he can watch your eyes drink in every inch of new skin revealed with barely contained desire. No, he would much rather have this, especially when your dainty hands peel away his boxers, leaving him only in his top and vest plate.

“Simon…” You whine, your lips so perfectly pouted, a cute little furrow between your brows as you pull and tug at various parts of his vest, “help me take this shit off. It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here.” He hums, schools his face to show careful contemplation, reaching up a hand to rest on your bare upper thigh.

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?”

“Please, sir.”

Well fuck. That awakened something within him.

With military precision, he unsecured the armoured vest from his body, wasting no time in pulling his shirt over his head, joining the now large pile of clothes left scattered across the floor of your tent. For a brief second, Simon feels so incredibly vulnerable under your intense gaze, wondering if maybe this is how people feel when he fixes his stare upon them, bare and defenceless. But then you lower yourself back into his lap, settling across both his legs with such gentle care, wrapping both your arms around the back of his head and pinning him with a look he thinks most likely reflects his own.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” It’s almost too much, the sincerity in your voice mixed with the way the words were uttered so softly into the air, as though they were a secret only to be shared between the two of you.

“I’m nothing compared to you.” You shake your head, smiling, leaning forward until your nose brushes his.

“Just take the compliment, Lieutenant.” He tries his best not to shiver as he feels your hand trace down his spine, instead shifts his focus onto how close your lips are to his, or the quiet noise you make in the back of your throat as his hands come to grip the meat of your thighs.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Something in the air changes, as though the collective patience between the two of you could stretch no further, so taut it had no choice but to snap. His lips crash into yours, desperation surging through Simon’s veins like wildfire. Fuck, what are you doing to him?

“Can I touch you?” he mumbles against your lips, large hands aching from where they rest, yearning the feeling of your wet heat against his fingertips.

“God, yes, please.”

With newfound strength, he lifts you from his lap and twists you until your back is flush to his chest, uncaring of the twinge of pain he feels from his leg as he settles you fully on his lap. Now, Simon has full access to every inch of your perfect body, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck as he litters the skin with open mouthed kisses, humming contentedly at the way you arch into his hands as he cups your breasts with both hands, fingers toying with your nipples until they’re perked and firm under his touch.

“No teasing, please,” Your pleading breaks him from a momentary stupor, bringing his head up to watch as you place one of your hands over his, guiding it further down, sweeping over your sternum, past your belly button, until his palm rests over your cunt, “I need you here, Simon.”

Fucking hell.

He couldn't find the words, couldn’t articulate them even if he had any. So, instead of speaking, he presses his hand over the curve of your cunt, groans when he feels just how hot and wet you are, all for him.

“Mine.” He repeats your words from earlier into the shell of your ear, a smirk stretching onto his lips at the full body shiver you give in response, growing near predatory when he feels your pussy twitch under his hand. God, how the fuck are you so wet? His fingers glide over your folds with ease, teasing your clit on every upwards swipe of his fingers, and when he finally dips his index finger into your cunt, he’s rewarded with the sweetest symphony. Breathy whines and whispered pleas of “more”, “deeper, Simon, please”, every request he happily indulges, now curling two fingers against your velvet walls, searching for the spot he knows will have you keening against his body. It takes a shift of his palm, the angle changing just enough to have you choking on a gasp, his other hand remains fixed to your breasts, pushing your chest down until you’re pinned against his body.

“Atta girl, feels good huh?” He slips a third digit in, cursing under his breath as he feels your pussy clamp down, twitching helplessly around his fingers as they continue to stroke relentlessly at your g-spot, “Gonna need you to cum at least once on my fingers before I give you anything else, baby.” He dares to steal a glance at your face, and is met with closed eyes, your mouth agape, and head thrown back onto his shoulder, you’re nothing short of a masterpiece. Your hands desperately grip onto his arms, nails digging sweet red crescents into Simon’s inked skin, as though the hold you have on him is the only thing keeping you grounded, and he feels positively fucking drunk on it.

You’re close, that much he can tell, and as much as he could absolutely keep you like this on his lap for another good few hours, he takes pity on your furrowed eyebrows and soft whimpers, removing his hand from your chest and placing his thumb into your open mouth. He doesn’t even need to instruct you as you close your lips around his digit and suck, your tongue eagerly lapping at the rough pad of his finger. He doesn’t have the strength to leave it there for much longer, overly aware of the way his cock desperately twitches from where it’s trapped between your bodies, instead focusing on the way you react the second his spit slicked thumb begins to rub tight circles around your clit.

“Si-, fuck, Simon ‘m close, so close, wanna cum,” There was never any other option for him than to watch you fall apart on his lap, but if he somehow needed further encouragement, “Please Sir, please make me cum.” It would be entirely impossible for him to stop the moan your words drag from his throat, to think of anything other than giving you your release. It’s obvious when your orgasm hits, having to stop toying with your now engorged clit to instead pin your hips down, worried there was a chance you might fall to the side if he didn’t keep you grounded.

“Good girl, such a good fucking girl, made such a mess of my fingers baby,” Simon hums against the side of your head, slowing his ministrations until he’s lazily fingering your still spasming pussy, drawing out the sweet sounds of post-orgasm sensitivity from your spit-shining lips. He waits until you finally regain some form of lucidity, waits until your neck straightens, no longer lolled against his collarbone to finally withdraw his fingers, soothing your whines at his absence with kisses to your jaw. But he makes sure your eyes are locked with his when he brings his fingers to his own lips, ensures you’re watching with nothing less than rapt attention as he cleans every drop of your arousal from his skin.

“Taste fuckin’ divine, princess.” Your head tips forward into your hands with a groan, and Simon couldn’t hide his pleased grin even if he tried.

“You’re not allowed to be this hot,” Your words muffled into your palm, the Ghost’s heart rate spiking when you looked at him shyly through your fingers, affection surging through his bloodstream like a shot of pure adrenaline. “Especially when I can feel your cock pressed against my ass.” As if he needed the reminder, as if that singular thought hasn’t been plaguing him for the past 10 minutes.

“And what exactly are you going to do about that, darling?”

His words were meant to make you shy, were said to watch those sweet eyes of yours widen. Except, Simon realises, he must have awoken something within you, something bold, something utterly fucking debauched, because instead of shying away, you lock your eyes with his, rising to the challenge he set. You stand up, turn yourself around, climb back onto his lap and sink down onto his cock in one fluid motion.

“Fucking-, shit, what the fuck,”

“I think that works for both of us, right, Simon?” You need to stop, or you at least need to give him some time to adjust to whatever the fuck it is you’re doing right now. He can tell you’re far from unaffected, however. The slight quiver to your voice, and the way the slick walls of your pussy clench greedily around him show at least that much. And yet, you’re pinning him with a fierce gaze, your fingers forming an iron grip on loose brown hair at the base of his skull, using him as leverage to grind your hips in circular motions. “Let me take care of you, handsome.” His response cut off by a groan as you begin to fuck yourself on his cock, his eyes frantically flicking from where your cunt swallows every inch of his shaft, back up to your heavy-lidded gaze, locked onto his as you effortlessly ride his cock.

So instead of trying to take the lead, to lift his hips to meet yours, for the first time ever, Simon Riley does as he’s told. He allows you to control the pace, lets you direct his hands to your waist, but doesn’t use it as a point of control. Instead he caresses your skin with rough fingers. He lets you take care of him. And God, does it feel good.

He lets his head fall back, lets his eyes slip closed, and allows himself to just exist in this moment with you. A luxury he hasn’t been able to afford for far too long. Instead, he focuses on the sounds dissipating into the air around your joined bodies, the soft pants and moans that spill from both his mouth and yours, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin combined with the slick noise of his cock fucking into your heat, and if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can hear the rapid beating of your heart where your chest is pressed flush to his.

“C’mon Simon, baby, look at me.” It takes an embarrassing amount of energy for Simon to lift his neck up, refocusing his gaze onto you, “You’re doing so well, letting me look after you like this.” And fuck, he doesn’t want to cry, can’t remember the last time he allowed himself the comfort of crying, but he feels so unequivocally safe around you. Still, the time for tears will come later, right now, Simon wants nothing more than to feel you lose yourself on his cock. He secures his hands on your ass, and stands, ignoring your surprised cries and worried scolding, and walks as best he can towards the mattress near your desk. He doesn’t want to admit that lowering you both down onto the cheap material nearly left him breathless, and he definitely won’t admit that you were right, he didn’t have the strength to do that. But now that he has you lying on top of him, cock still buried deep inside of you, he knows the pain was more than worth it. Because in this position, he can ground his feet into the mattress and focus on fucking you like you deserve.

He ignores the sting of pain in his thigh, no doubt ruining some of the stitching you had done earlier, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. Not when you’re mewling into his chest, nails scratching long, thin pink lines down the expanse of his chest as he fucks his hips ruthlessly up to meet yours. He knows he won’t last much longer, you feel too fucking good, and he has no strength to hold back, praying that you’re as close as he is as he snakes one hand down to toy with your clit once again. Relief washing over him when he feels your cunt clench like a vice around his length, allows himself one, two more thrusts of his hips before he finally reaches his peak, cock twitching like a heartbeat from where it’s buried within you, not moving until the last weak spurts of cum finish painting your cervix white.

“Fucking hell,” with his energy long since depleted, his body slumps into the mattress below, dragging you down with him, his arms still wrapped securely around your form.

“That good, huh?” You grin up at him, eyes glinting in the low light. You look positively stunning.

“You know it, sweetheart,” Simon pauses, looks down at where you’re still sprawled against his chest, and silently thanks the motherfucker who decided to shoot him in the first place, he’s not sure if he would have ever gathered the strength to have you like this, in the way he always craved. “C’mere, I want cuddles.” He grunts, choosing to ignore the surprised laugh you give in response, says nothing at your incessant teasing and light threats to tell Soap that “oh my god, Ghost likes cuddles”.

He does none of that, instead, he holds you close, stares up at the ceiling as you bury your face into his neck, whispering sweet confessions into his skin, words he soaks up and saves for a rainy day. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has never been a man to care about his own health, even now he still sees that damn hourglass, unsure of how much sand remains. But now he has a reason to change that.

Now, he has you.

#☁︎⋅writing #simon riley #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw22 #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost x you #dear lord #this derailed so quick #i wanted soft ghost #i got soft ghost plus nearly 2k of soft ghost smut #i ruined myself #anyway enjoy SLDFS

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lydiimae · 1 month

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Beneath The Surface

MDI 18+ !

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton/f! Reader

Warnings: PWP, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, spanking (f receiving), semi-public touching(?), heavy praise, innocent reader, virgin reader, jealous Benedict, sub and dom dynamic.

Wordcount: 3k

A.N: Hello my loves. This is a little smut based on a request that you can find here. This is my first time dabbling in the hardcore (not even really that, just spanking LMFAO) world so I hope I did it all right. Thank you for your request anon, I hope you enjoy ^-^! Also, I am in the midst of writing a loooong Anthony fic that will be coming out either this weekend or sometime next week! LOVE YOU <3 P.S. Would you all like a Colin fanfic? I am thinking about writing for him but I just don't know where to start T-T

He adjusts his cravat from across the ball, watching you interact with what has to be the fifth man tonight, from his brother's side. Jealousy for Benedict is different than it is for his brothers. He finds it easier to deal with by shoving it down and releasing it down the line, usually in a painting, too many glasses of brandy, or even a fencing match with his brothers.

He likes to think he does a good job of hiding it too, but everyone around him knows better. Anthony watches from beside him as his jaw ticks, his eyes moving down to his younger brother's clenched fists. "You might go and speak to her, brother. She is your intended." He sighs, looking out over the ball. Benedict scoffs. "And cause a scene? No, thank you." He mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Anthony groans, looking over at him. "She is your fiance, Benedict. It is not like when you were courting, you are allowed to be with her." He mutters. "What gives you the impression I even wish to go over there at all?" He returns with a raised eyebrow, at which Anthony snorts. "You are the very definition of a jealous man, brother. You do not hide it as well as you believe you do." He says, patting his cheek and giving him a snarky smile before joining in conversation with his own wife.

Benedict groans and runs a gloved hand through his hair, clenching his jaw as he thinks. He knows his brother is right, there is nothing untoward about pulling his intended to his side and hogging her for the rest of the night, but that is not the problem. The problem is that he not only wants to pull you to his side, he wants to pull you to his side and rip that dress off. Mark your skin with angry red marks that will not fade for weeks, spank you over his knee for even looking in another's direction. That is his problem.

The more he thinks, the more he can feel himself getting hot, and before long he lets his legs lead the rest of his body straight over to you. He grabs your arm without a second thought, pulling you to his side as he leads you straight past his family and out the door, ignoring a smirking Anthony and a laughing Colin.

"Benedict!" You squeal as he drags you along, your gloved hand grasped tightly with his own. He tugs you along faster in response, his jaw set. "Benedict!" You exclaim once more, finally freeing your wrist and coming to a halt. He practically growls, his hands coming around your waist so he can tug you into a small alcove. "You have absolutely no idea how insane you make me." He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours.

A strange heat settles in your tummy, spreading to that place between your legs. The feeling first appeared when you met him and grew when he danced with you. Your thighs get all sticky and wet, your breasts tingle and heave as your breathing gets harsher, and your mind goes blank. It's a strange feeling, yes, but not unwelcome.

He grins when he sees the effect he has on you. "Look at you, Y/n. So hot that that gorgeous mind of yours cannot think of anything but me." He murmurs, almost mockingly. "I don't...." You begin, but quickly trail off when his lips meet the sensitive skin on your neck. "Benedict!" You gasp, your hands moving to the fabric of his jacket. You squeeze so tight your knuckles turn white. "We mustn't, not here." You whisper without much conviction.

He swats your bottom harshly and you gasp, closing your eyes on instinct. "I have been nothing but a gentleman and you reward me by talking to other men the whole night?" He growls, biting down on the skin of your collarbone. "Benedict I was not-" But you are cut off with another light swat to your thigh. "You most certainly were." He mutters, moving his hands to your hips and bringing you close.

"I do not like to see you with others, Y/n." He whispers, sounding almost soft now, perhaps even insecure. The change sends your mind into a flurry. "You are mine. Mine to love, mine to wed, mine to keep." He murmurs before pressing his lips to yours. Your hands come to his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut, squeezing them softly as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip. You part your lips on instinct and his tongue meets yours.

You sigh when he parts, dipping your head down so your forehead can rest upon his shoulder. "I have not..." You trail off and one of his hands comes to your back, his fingers tracing up and down the notches of your spine. "I know." He murmurs, running kisses up your neck and making sure to leave marks in the process. The feeling makes the wetness between your legs grow. "I am going to spend the entire night teaching you." He whispers into your ear.

You whine when he bites down on the skin just below it. "I shall spank your bottom until you are nothing but a mindless harlot, begging for whatever I wish to give you." He whispers, running his tongue down your neck as your head rolls back at his filthy words. "I shall show you how it feels to be worshipped here," He runs his hand over your breasts, making you gasp. "and here..." He whispers, smearing his hand down over your stomach until it rests right above your weeping cunt.

You gasp, meeting his eyes. "Benedict." You whisper, suddenly overwhelmed. He moves his hands back to your waist, squeezing comfortingly before pressing a kiss just above your brow. "I shall not do anything you do not give me the power to do." He murmurs and you nod. "We shall go to my townhouse, hm?" He murmurs, waiting for another nod which you give him almost instantly. With a quick kiss on your lips, he grabs your hand and leads you to his carriage.

The carriage ride to his bachelor's lodgings is filled with open-mouthed kisses and whispered words. When you get to his townhouse he lifts you up into his arms and walks straight in without paying any mind to the driver. He carries you all the way up into the master bedroom where he puts you on the ground.

He walks to the bed, taking off his cravat, and sitting down. His smoldering look makes you shy, your hands playing with the loose fingers of your gloves as your eyes move to the floor. "Look at me." He demands, making your eyes flick up to his immediately. He removes his jacket and waistcoat before running a hand through his hair, everything about him making your body tingle.

He grins when your cheeks turn that delightful shade of pink he has come to adore. "Take off your dress, my girl." He murmurs and your eyes go wide. "Benedict we-" You start. "We are going to do something I have waited months to do. Take off your dress." He interrupts, raising an eyebrow. You bite your bottom lip and nod slowly, undoing the ribbons under your armpits. As soon as you are done the silky fabric lands in a heap around your ankles and you are left in your chemise and stays, your cheeks bright red.

He groans, the front of his trousers tightening. He slowly unbuttons his shirt and motions for you to come closer. You walk to him and he pulls you in between his legs with his hands on your hips. He presses a kiss to your stomach, grinning when the action draws a small giggle. He slowly moves his hands to the laces of your stays, looking up into your eyes for permission. You nod and his fingers undo them with remarkable speed.

He takes off all of your undergarments, the cool air making your nipples pebble. He sighs, pressing another kiss right above your hip before leaning back. "Tell me something, have you ever touched yourself here?" He whispers, his fingers ghosting your inner thighs. You suppress a whine and shake your head, letting out a sigh when his hands move up to your breasts. He cups both of them and groans at the noise that escapes you. "What about these? Have you ever touched yourself here?" He murmurs, swiping his thumbs over your nipples.

You whine, your hips bucking on their own. "No." You breathe and he smiles, smearing his hands all the way back down to your hips. "Spread your legs." He murmurs. "I am going to teach you." He explains when you show even a hint of anxiety. You nod slowly and shuffle on the floor so that your legs are spread just a bit. "Good girl." He praises with a kiss to your naval, slowly moving his fingers up your inner thighs. You gasp when two of his long fingers swipe through your folds, biting your bottom lip to keep from making any more noise.

"Fuck you are soaked, angel." He murmurs in a way that makes you believe it must be a good thing. "This," He taps your cunt, making you whine, "is your cunt, Y/n. A beautiful, ripe, wet, garden just waiting to be planted." He sighs, pressing a kiss to your pelvis. The action makes your hips twitch. His fingers move up a bit higher and press to a place that makes white-hot pleasure shoot through every nerve of your body. You cannot help but cry out, your head shooting back.

He chuckles, a deep sound that makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. "That, my gorgeous girl, is your clit. It feels nice when it's touched, does it not?" He hums, moving his fingers around in a teasingly slow circle. "So... so so good." You babble, unsure of how you were able to even form words with how foggy your mind feels. "That is too bad." He hums, taking his fingers away. You whine, your head moving forward so you can look at him. "But Benedict, it felt so good. You cannot just-" You cry out when his hand meets the soft flesh of your bare rear, the feeling much different than when he spanked you before.

"I most certainly can." He growls. "Touching that place is a reward, and you have done nothing that deserves rewarding tonight." He mutters. You would be scared at his tone if you didn't see the love in his eyes, something that makes you want to submit to his every desire. "Come. Bend over my knees." He hums, patting the back of your thigh. "Yes sir." You whisper without thinking about it. He groans when you bend over, dipping down so he can whisper in your ear. "Never stop calling me that." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You smile to yourself as he leans back, his hand ghosting down over your spine before it rests on your left buttock. "You shall only need to pat my leg once for me to stop, twice for me to go on, and a third for apprehension, hm?" He murmurs and you pat his leg twice, making him grin. "Good girl, Y/n." He murmurs as he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. "I am thinking a good ten slaps will be enough for you to learn your lesson for now, hm?" He asks, running his lips down your back. "Yes sir." You whisper, closing your eyes tight.

His lips leave your back and you feel his hand come to your buttock, giving it a squeeze. It has a calming effect until it disappears and the warmth is replaced with two harsh slaps to your bottom, making you cry out and grip his pant leg. "Ben-Benedict..." You whine, and he hums. "Too much." You mumble, squirming on his lap. "You know what to do if it's too much, sweet girl." He murmurs and you pout, making sure not to pat his leg on accident. There is something so divine about the pain and pleasure mixing in your body.

"Good girl." He whispers before giving you two more slaps on the rear, his hands kneading the flesh to prolong the sting. Your legs spread a bit on instinct, wanting more of whatever he will give you. "Please." You mumble, to which he only spanks you again. "Such a harlot, getting so soaked from a spanking." He growls, and you buck your hips. You cry out when he spanks you twice more, harder this time. "Naughty girl. Do not move." He mutters and you nod.

The last three spanks are quick as if he is growing restless. He lifts you up so you are sitting on top of his lap, your breasts pressed against his chest. He groans at the look on your face, your lips parted and damp, your cheeks flushed, your eyes glazed over. So lustful, and yet so entirely innocent. "Such a good girl, Y/n." He murmurs, pressing kisses down your neck. You hum, a lazy smile on your face as your hips move back and forth against his clothed thigh.

"Look at you, riding my thigh without even having to be told." He chuckles, curling his fingers around your chin and stealing a kiss. "Should I teach you more, my sweet?" He hums, grinning at your eager nod. He lets your head fall onto his shoulder as one of his hands rests on the small of your back, the other making its way between your legs once more. He circles your clit slowly, making you moan. "I am going to get you ready for me, how does that sound? Do you want my cock, pretty girl?" He murmurs.

He grins at the confusion that washes over your face, his hand that was resting on your back coming to one of yours. He leads your hand down between his legs and presses it against his clothed cock. He groans when your hand flexes, his fingers on your cunt halting. "That is my cock, my love. You are going to take it inside. Right here." He whispers, moving his fingers to your entrance and pushing one of them in. You cry out at the sudden invasion, patting three times on his arm.

He presses his forehead against yours, letting you get used to the feeling of his finger inside. "You are doing so good, Y/n. Taking my fingers so well. Such a good girl." He praises, peppering your face with kisses. You hum after a moment, nuzzling his neck and patting his arm once. "Good girl." He whispers, beginning to thrust his finger. He adds another when he feels you are ready and you whine, pushing your hips back onto his fingers with every thrust.

He groans. "You know just what to do, don't you pretty girl?" He murmurs and you nod dumbly, unable to think about anything but the feeling of his fingers. "Ben I feel... strange." You pant, a strange tightness in your lower belly. "It's okay, love. Just let yourself feel. You're going to come, darling." He murmurs, speeding up his movements. You are a moaning mess when the string in your body snaps, making you see stars. You slump against him.

"Good girl, coming all over my fingers." He whispers, pulling them out of you before sucking off your wetness. The sight makes your body heat up. "Are you ready for my cock now, sweet girl?" He hums, lifting you up and laying you back on the bed. You nod and your legs spread wide automatically, drunk on his praise. He groans lewdly at the sight, unbuttoning his trousers to free himself.

He runs his cock through your folds, making you both groan. Your hands come to his shoulders, your nails leaving little crescents indented into his skin. He grins and presses his forehead to yours before pushing into your cunt. You cry out loudly when he bottoms out inside of you, his hands coming to your hips. He stalls, letting you get used to the stretch and the feeling of being filled.

You pat his arm once after a few minutes, whining when he starts to rock his hips at a hauntingly slow pace. The feeling is so foreign but so welcome. He speeds up, the sound of his thighs meeting your bum filling the room. Sweat rolls down his neck and splashes against your collarbone as he sets a punishingly fast pace, leaning his head back as he groans. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines against his soft skin.

"Say you're sorry for talking to that git." He groans, his hand coming to your hair and pulling softly. You moan and turn your head to the side. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sir." You babble and he grins, his hand smearing down your torso until his fingers find your clit. He rubs harshly, making you cry out and clench around his cock, the tightening in your tummy returning. "Jesus Christ you are perfect, Y/n." He moans, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. "Mine." He growls, biting down on the flesh there.

That is how you come, your entire body coming alive as you cry out. You see stars, the only thing anchoring you being the sweet praises he begins to whisper into your ear. He pulls out and comes on your tummy, flipping on his back as he lays down next to you. After a moment, you turn and cuddle into him, his arms coming around you and pulling you close. "How was that, darling?" He whispers, pressing kisses to the top of your head. "Wonderful." You sigh dreamily, making him laugh.

"Good. It was wonderful for me too." He hums, running his hand up and down your back. "I love you." He murmurs as he picks you up. "Mmm. Where are we going?" You whisper, nuzzling his neck. "To bathe, darling." He whispers, walking into the bathroom. You grin and press a kiss on his cheek. "I love you too." You whisper and he smiles. The rest of the night is spent in his embrace, the warm bath being just what you need to fall asleep.

You decide that you like it when Benedict is jealous. Very, very much.

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scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year

Text

You're losing me

---

Pairing: Miguel o'hara x female reader

Word Count: 1200

Warning: none, just a little angst and fluff

Content: You call Miguel to come sleep

---

"Won’t you come to sleep?", you asked.

"No.", he responded,

"Not yet.", his eyes glued to the screen in front of him

It frustrated you. Yes, his need to keep the multiverse from collapsing was important but then again, you thought you were too.

You knew a little of his past but everytime he had to recollect what he had lost, it only broke him. So you spent your time, trying to get him to see that his present could be just as good only if he could allow himself to enjoy it. Only if he could stop for a second and see you. But he didn’t. He was busy and annoyed and sleep deprived. But then again so were you.

You spent the nights waiting for him that you would often fall asleep in the extra seat next to him. You had your dinners alone, while his plate remained untouched on his table.

But today, as his back faced you and as his fingers moved over the keyboard, you were certain you had had enough. If being gentle was getting you nowhere, then you will get him to listen to you plea. You will hold his gaze and as you thought this, you walked towards him despite him telling you to leave. Your blanket was wrapped around you in a way that it hid your skin from the cold, your body yearning for the warmth of his touch.

Your night dress contoured to the shape of your body and your eyes embodied the depth of his stare. He was engrossed in his world, unaware of what you were going to do, which was exactly where you wanted him. When you got close enough, you held onto the side of his arm rest and got onto his lap.

“What are – he began to protest

But giving him time to respond meant he would stop you from being close to him. He will hold you away like you were something he was scared of.

You slung your legs over the other side and settled yourself within his large arms, that fit you well like a cradle, a place you could finally rest, feeling confident that you knew of his weakness, the softness he harboured only for you.

As you laid still with your eyes closed, you expected him to grow angry or tell you off but instead, you heard his sigh, his arms relaxing and when silence filled the space again, his soft chuckle. Not what you expected but even more to your surprise, you felt his hands rest on your waist as though his calculations had let him know that this display of comfort wasn’t life threatening.

With the faint sound of a click, you could hear a little girl’s laugh and then followed by one that sounded like his own. When you opened your eyes, what you saw gripped your heart. He was a father. And like in most cases, that meant he had a family of his own.

The levity of your act broke and in it’s place fear and guilt flooded in. It made more sense now, his distance and standoffish nature. The worry in his eyes every time he looked at you. You were an annoyance in a life he had well established. You turned your gaze to see him only to realize that he knew you were awake the whole time.

His dark eyes were on yours, his face still emotionless. But the truth was evident now. You cannot force a man whose heart already belonged to someone else, to love you instead.

So you pushed away from him but you were caught in the net of his arms. He wasn’t letting you go. So you fought, your palms folded into fists as you gently rammed them on his chest as your vision blurred. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Your heart wasn’t supposed to break with all the love you held for him.

But his hands found your shoulders and he held you steady when you came to understand he had whispered your name this entire time, trying to get you to look at him. So you did. With your tear stained cheeks and hurt gaze.

“Miguel.”, you mustered your strength to say his name and in response he hummed as he wiped your tears and cupped your cheek.

“All you had to do was tell me and I would have left. You had an entire life here that I knew nothing about.”, I leaned into his touch like a river running to sea.

“There is nothing to tell.”, his eyes roamed the features of your face as though he was seeing you for the first time.

“I saw my daughter disappear right in front my eyes. The only universe I wanted to save, was the one I couldn’t.”, he spoke with such tenderness that you were sure no one else knew about.

He brought you close, the warmth of his hold spreading through your body, and slowly he placed his forehead on yours.

“So please, let me save the rest, amor.” He spoke, his soft breath cascading over your lips. But it only saddened you. That he never viewed the universe you were in, in the same way you viewed it.

“You often forget that for me, this is the only universe I care about.”, you said and he pulled back to see you.

“Because it has you in it.”, you caressed his cheek as he gave you the faintest hint of a smile.

“And every time you push me away, you vanish before my eyes.”, you sighed and got off him to see a ghostly look in his eyes.

You turned to leave when he held your wrist, preventing you to take another step away from him.

“Is that how I’ve made you feel?”, he asked refraining to look at you, almost ashamed with himself.

“Isn’t that how I make you feel?”, you retorted.

“I see the fear in your eyes, Miguel. Every time you see me. That if you liked it here, you’d stop living in the past.”, you said, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist that you were certain he could hear the fast rhythm of your heartbeat.

“Mierda”, he muttered when his eyes found yours again.

“si tan solo supieras”, he reeled you towards him.

“What?”, you asked.

“If I had known what?”, you asked again softly, your eyes searching his.

But he didn’t give you an answer, instead his hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer till you had no room to escape, no place to run but give in. He tipped your chin up, your nose almost touching his.

“That I fear losing this universe too. That there will be no redemption for me if I saw you slip away from my fingers.”, he whispered as he placed his lips on yours and all you could do was give in.

“I cannot replace what you've lost.”, you said in between his starving kisses.

“But I can give you new memories if you wish.”, you continued breathless as he groaned against your lips as he pulled away, his eyes alive for the first time as his chest rose and fell.

“LYLA.”, he called impatiently and it made you smile.

“Shut down for the night.”, he got up carrying you with him.

“I’m going to sleep.”, he spoke to the AI.

“This is a historical moment in all universes.” LYLA laughed but he only turned to you, now sporting a full tender smile.

“Mi dulce esposa has called for me.”, he nuzzled into your neck as he walked out his lab.

The multiverse held its guard up through the night and as Miguel held you close in the comfort of his home, intertwined together over soft sheets, he grew to realize that the universe he was in was the only one that mattered.

---

Disclaimer - lo sé un poco Espanol pero I used Google translate for some words and phrases, so excuse the mistakes if you find any. I am not a native speaker.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man #into the spider verse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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emmitaaa4 · 3 months

Text

Azriel, you beautiful, complex man.

Anyone else ever lay awake at night thinking that it’s not that Azriel wants a mate, any mate: it’s that he believes only a mate—only someone who was meant to love him—could love him ?

Do you ever think about the fact that Azriel’s visceral response to Elain looking up at him with trust & hope, was to believe that there was no possible way she could ever look at him that way if she knew the things he’d done and been forced to do? If she knew that his scarred hands mirrored his marred soul? Yet we know Elain has never balked from him and has only ever seen beauty in his scars; in who he is.

Do you ever think about the way Azriel feels this need to prove himself useful—which is why he so clings to his titles and his job—for if he is needed, he cannot be abandoned?

Do you ever want to shout from the rooftops that Azriel is so much more than this « darkness » he cloaks himself in, and that he doesnt need someone to heal him & « handle his darkness ». Healing, for Az, does not mean fighting & ‘killing’ his demons, it means being at peace with himself & learning to live with them without needing to mask who he is. He needs to begin to believe that there is darkness and light in him to love.

Does your heart ever squeeze when you understand that allowing yourself to be loved, first means bearing yourself to another & willingly risking being hurt ? It requires an unparalleled level of emotional vulnerability from him. You ever realize that Az uses his shadows as an emotional crutch, that he so carefully masks his expressions, yet it takes but a look for Elain to read him? He, who finds his strength & perseverance in hope, found his match in her gentle, hopeful heart—and he physically has to keep himself apart from her, only allowing himself to act upon his feelings when she made the first move. Entitlement where?

Truly, how has the fandom decided that Azriel, who follows the sound of Elain’s laugh, who listened to her when no one else would & didnt let her be misunderstood, who trusted her with TT so she could protect herself & those she loves, who stayed up past 3am as she spoke of her passions, who made everyone wait for her to eat, who chooses to sun his wings next to her in peaceful, quiet company… is an entitled, flaky male that sees her as nothing but a sexual distraction?

Do people really not realize what it means for him to question the Cauldron, question the very core of his beliefs?

1) It is not his feelings he questions:

His mind is tortured by thoughts of Elain, so much so he can’t sleep;

They do not need words to communicate, indicating familiarity & understanding;

He IS showing more than “just lust”, it’s clear from their interactions since the first trilogy. There was something there before Nessian happened.

2) Not only does he believe himself unworthy of her, but that sentiment is reinforced by the fact that the Cauldron “broke the pattern”. I do not see the entitled man the fandom speaks of. What he is is a deeply traumatized man, who was abused as a boy by the people who were meant to love him & protect him.

The popular thought that Az would fold for a mate, regardless of who she (or he) is, is truthfully not attractive, not to mention that it implies he’d only risk love for a “guaranteed” happy ending.

=> “Az wants a mate therefore give him a mate” is counterproductive to his growth (tho to clarify, i am not saying he should not have a mate, just that there is a way the story should be told.)

We have seen him plan for snowball fights & tactical missions, yet never for his future: not with Elain—again, he never even actually allowed himself to consider pursuing her—but not in any other sense either:

Children? he tells Cass he doesnt know if he wants any—has he ever let himself imagine having a child? A house ? he has no place to himself. Remember that even after 500 years of existence, Az says he still does not know where he belongs?

Could you not imagine two people who make themselves what others need them to be, being brave enough to bare those hidden, repressed parts of themselves to the other. Can you not see the growth it would require from both of them should they give themselves a chance? To, on one hand, choose the other despite what is expected & the problems it would cause, and on the other, be vulnerable enough to receive that love & believe yourself worthy of it.

Love doesnt care for convenience. It could all go to hell but at least they’d know they had tried, and i do not see how that could ever make for a boring, 2 dimensional story.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #pro azriel #elain archeron #i love him and her and them #elriel #pro elain #azriel bonus chapter #acosf bonus chapter #acosf #acotar #azriel acotar

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narumi-gens · 11 months

Text

my type itadori yuuji x f!reader

note: I just really like that "brother you're a man amongst men" line of todo's and wanted to use it in a not so sad context so here we are. everyone is out here going wild over hidden inventory gojo and geto but I'm still riding the best boy train.

minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni

For all of Yuuji's strength, there's little he can do as Todo drags him along at his side, a massive arm wrapped around his "younger brother's" shoulders. He tries to drag his feet. He tries to fight back. He even throws an elbow to the man's gut.

With no other option left, he has to beg.

"P-please don't! Don't make me do this! I'll do anything! Please just stop!" As the two of them round the corner, the coffee shop that Todo is leading him toward comes into sight and panic seizes him. "Brother!"

This finally seems to strike something in Todo. He comes to a stop and faces Yuuji, dropping a hulking hand to each of his shoulders. He then looks down at him, a grave expression on his scarred face.

"Brother, you are a man amongst men." Yuuji can't remember ever having heard Todo sound as serious as he does now. "You cannot allow yourself to be overcome by such timidness!"

His grip on Yuuji's shoulders tightens and if it were anyone else being held, they would be wincing and begging to be released. Yuuji barely registers the pressure.

"Takada-chan says a real man doesn't hesitate to go after the things he wants!" he continues, his voice increasing in volume and the two of them begin to garner stares from the few passing onlookers. "Brother, do you love this woman?"

Yuuji's face feels like it's on fire.

"L-love?" he cries out, the embarrassment swirling in his stomach. "I don't love her! I don't even know her!"

It's the truth. He doesn't know you. He doesn't know your likes and dislikes. He doesn't know about your hobbies or your family. He doesn't know about your dreams and wants.

All he knows is that you work at a new coffee shop in the area that Kugisaki dragged him to. All he knows is that you're so incredibly kind. All he knows is that when you smile at him, his heart pounds so loudly in his chest that he's afraid you'll hear it. All he knows is that you now know his name and his order by heart because of how often he's been frequenting the coffee shop.

"If you want this woman then you cannot falter now! You must demonstrate your commitment to her with courage and heart!"

Before he can protest again, Todo's arm is once again tightly wrapped around his shoulders and he's pulled along into the coffee shop. He allows himself to feel the slightest relief at how empty it is. At least there won't be a large audience to witness his humiliation.

But any relief disappears as soon as he sees you at the counter. Where he would normally feel butterflies in his stomach at how your face lights up as you notice him, now all he can feel is dread. This is the last time you'll ever look at him without thinking of him as the weirdo who bothered you at work and thought he actually had a chance with you.

And he can't even savor it because Todo drags him to the counter and before you've even had a chance to greet either of them, he curls his hand into a fist and slams it onto the countertop. It cracks under the pressure and you can only look on in shock.

The sound catches the attention of the only other two customers as well as your coworker, who runs out from the back to see what's going on, only to freeze when they see Todo's intimidating shape.

"What kind of man is your type?" he asks you. The question shouted in your face, which is Todo's regular volume.

You blink at him dumbly, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to move past your surprise.

"M-my type?" you repeat and although you stutter, there's no tremor in your voice and both Yuuji and Todo are impressed by your fortitude. You take a moment to look at Todo fully before your nose wrinkles slightly. "Sorry, I'm not interested. But I'm happy to take your order."

Todo laughs jovially and brings a hand to his chest.

"My heart already belongs to another," he tells you proudly and you give him a suspicious look, unsure why else he would be asking, before you shrug. You bring up a finger to your chin and look up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"Well, if I had to say...I like strong guys who are nice, I guess?" you offer and Yuuji's breath catches in his throat, his eyes going wide.

You like strong guys? Yuuji is a strong guy.

You like nice guys? Yuuji is a nice guy.

"Um, also..." Your expression turns a little sheepish and you scratch the back of your head as you give them a slightly embarrassed smile. "I kind of like it when they're a little dumb."

Todo squeezes him tightly in victory and Yuuji wonders if this is what hope feels like.

#i like em dumb. what can i say 🤷‍♀️#itadori yuuji #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori fluff #yuuji fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #mel writes #my type #best boy

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

Note

For Aegon

❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜

You could feel him staring at you; No, you could see him staring at you from the corner of your eye as you skimmed the paragraphs of your book under the guise of ‘reading.’ So much so that whenever you braved to glance at Aegon, who only seem to thrive in being caught as he continued his blatant staring with absolutely zero shame as a smirk growing across his lips and a glimmer in his lilac eyes. You didn’t know whether you should laugh or cry out of disbelief at his lack of digression. It never ceases to baffles you how shameless Aegon could be, even within the eye of the public he would have the misfortune to rule. His words not yours.

“you seem to have developed a staring problem as of late, my prince.” You said without taking your eyes off of the book in your lap, despite your desire to read had long since became a thing of the past, “And more so then not that staring has been aimed at me for most of the time.” You didn’t even have to look up to know that his smirk had widened across his face for Aegon was a simple book to read, even a child could do it. “What? Am I not allowed to look at you now?” He asked amused, you didn’t reply. “If my staring causes you were so much discomfort, then why haven’t you voiced your displeasure?” Aegon gauges your silence as a means to continue voicing his thoughts. “Or perhaps, if I’m right in assuming, you actually like it.”

You snorted, closing the book and placing it beside you as you looked over to address Aegon, only to find that he has moved himself closer to you as he leant against the Weirwood tree, arms and ankles crossed over one another. Had he always been so quiet on his feet? “Don’t flatter yourself Aegon, I’m probably not the only one you’ve been staring at.” You mentioned matter of factly, recalling the times where his lusty lilac eyes lingered elsewhere as you fought against the feeling of jealously building within your throat. You didn’t know why you were feeling this way, Aegon didn’t seem the type of man to willingly commit to anyone and you seemingly detested his depravity and uncouth ways at every turn.

However you didn’t catch onto the brief flicker of sadness within Aegon’s expression when you turned back to attend to your abandoned book. “If it brings you any reassurance but my eyes have never looked at another the way they looked at you.” He starts as he brought himself down to sit next to you beneath the bloody eyed tree with crimson leaves, testing the waters by grasping your hand in his as he took note of how you froze momentarily as though to compose yourself before falling into a sense of ease that still held onto that little bit of tension. “They may look to others in lust but to you, they’ve looked at you with nothing but admiration, comfort and above all, love.” Your body stiffen at the word but your eyes were peaked with interest as a warm sensation began to flood your chest as though you were a hearth brought aflame.

“Whether you believe my words or not, I do not care for I know my feelings to be true because whilst I may not be born into a loving environment; I still crave the things I cannot have and love is one of them if not the sole thing I crave to experience the most.” Aegon paused, feeling himself becoming overwhelmed with his own emotions that they started to form themselves into the tears that brimmed his pretty eyes. Aegon was always a pretty crier, you’ve noted. He made it look like an art form and you couldn’t help but squeeze his hand to console him into continuing. “So whenever you doubt my devoting to you, it hurts. I know why you doubt me, I understand it more then anyone because I’m the one who has to live with the consequences of my own actions.”

Aegon lays his head against your shoulder, pressing a kiss there before burying his head deeper into you as though he couldn’t get enough. His hand gripping yours tightly but not so much so that it caused you pain. “Yet here I am, laying my heart bear before you, praying to the seven in hopes that you don’t ever break it.” He finishes, too emotionally drained to remove himself away from you, not that he’d ever want to anyway; Clenching his eyes shut in waiting for your rejection, for you to smash his glass heart into a million fractures so small they looked like stardust. “Don’t pray to the Seven Aegon,” you told him softly, “for they’re the type who’d come to collect what is owed in droves. They’ll rob you blind of everything in the name of faith.”

“Then I’ll pray to you instead.” Aegon replied hastily, moving his head away from your shoulder to look at you with his bleary, bloodshot eyes as he smiled weakly. “Then you’ll have too much faith in me. I’ll let you down should I not meet your image of me every time.” You responded, resting your forehead against his, rubbing your nose gently his own. “Then don’t, let us be perfectly imperfect together until the end of our days.”

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kamisatomay018 · 6 months

Text

When the tide comes in, I Shall Return..

Neuvillette x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of character death, angst with fluff, hurt/comfort, reincarnation

Reader is an immortal elemental being, events described may not match the official Genshin story so it’s fictional!

Honestly I cannot write only angst cuz I love happy endings, so this will be a happy story! Also this will be very lengthy so I hope you guys enjoy!

Thunder struck the grounds of Fontaine as the rain poured down unforgivingly, and dark clouds surrounded the city like a dense fog, making Fontaine seem gloomier than ever. Not a soul could be spotted outside, all seeking comfort and warmth in their homes. But where could he go? Where could he find comfort? There was only one man in Fontaine who dared to step foot in the merciless fury of the rain, and that was the Hydro Dragon himself. After all, this rain was his own fury, his own anguish and misery. Yet it could never come close to ever describing the way his heart twisted in agony, his soul hollow and his being feeling emptier than ever.

There he stood, in front of a beautiful big cottage in Elynas which now lay isolated and alone, yet he had made sure that not a single brick fell apart. Only he knew how many memories were tied to this beautiful place he once so dearly called home. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he closed his eyes, once again allowing him to drown in the memories that never once faded away from his heart..

“Neuvi look!” He turned around to face you, looking as beautiful as ever, long white locks like his flowing down your back as you held beautiful pink and coral shells in your hands with an excited smile on your face. “Oh Mon Amour, these are simply divine. Your powers are truly magnificent.” You smiled at him bashfully, approaching him and sweetly pinned a coral shell onto his hair. The sun shone brightly as gentle waves crashed onto the beach, peace and serenity filling the air. “I’m so glad you like them Neuvi!” Oh how dearly he loved you, how dearly he loved your smile. In your beautiful cottage in Elynas, both of you had built a home, your love blossoming every passing year. Hundred years had already passed by since he knew you, and he had never been this happy. This was his perfect life, his happiness. You were his happiness, his light in the darkness.

How had everything gone so wrong? You both were so happy, and in the blink of an eye, everything he held dear to him had been snatched away from him. How was he supposed to move on like the entirety of Teyvat had? He had never been the same since you left him. Not once had he smiled in these five centuries, not one day had gone by where he didn’t remember you. He still had the shells you made for him so dearly, he would still dive deep into the waters of Fontaine to sustain the marine life you had created so dearly to honour your memory. But even as the Hydro Dragon, his powers were nowhere near as gentle and loving as yours. You were the epitome of peace and kindness which is why he had fallen so deep in love with you in the first place.

Opening the door of the cottage, he let out a shaky breath, trying not to break into sobs. All those years ago when he returned home, he would have your hand to hold, your sweet voice and embrace to find solace in. And now here he stood, drenched in his misery, all alone. As his eyes travelled across the beautiful cottage, he could see the memories of the beautiful past in front of his eyes, playing like a movie. How the two of you would dance and twirl together in the living room, how you would cook together, grow and pick beautiful flowers in your garden and cuddle with one another on the plush couch. Each moment he spent standing alone in the dark house, he was reminded of how all those memories are but the past that he can never relive, a time that he cannot reverse. He fell to the ground, crying in sorrow. Why did he have to pay the price for the folly of humans? What had you both ever done to be destined to a fate so cruel? The cataclysm was all because of humans and the celestial gods, then why had he payed the ultimate price?

How long has it been since he lost you? 500 years. 500 years since he last smiled, since the day he had ever been happy. Did he even remember what happiness or warmth felt like? No, because the day he lost you, he lost his reason to live and breathe too. It had been 500 years since the region of Elynas which was once a beautiful and flourishing land, had been turned into a land filled with carcasses, ruins and pain. Traces of the cataclysm were still visible here, as rifthounds and ruin machines from Dahri were still active, along with markings of the abyss. Anger filled in his mind as he remembered the fateful day he lost you, a memory so vivid that it haunted him every single day.

“Neuvi..the sky..it’s red..” He frowned at your words, approaching you who stood by the window. “What..how is that possible..” Fear was visible in your ocean blue eyes, as you hugged him close. “Neuvi I have a very bad feeling about this..” He wrapped his arms around you in a protective embrace, shushing you. “Hush Mon Amour..everything will be alright. I am with you, I promise.” Suddenly, to your utter horror, the ground tore open as abyssal monsters rose, making you shriek in terror. Neuvillette gasped, standing in front of you protectively as he instantly fought the monsters. But to your horror, they just kept emerging everywhere making you both run outside the cottage. “Neuvi, please be careful, protect the Merusea village, I need to go underwater and alert all the creatures.” He looked at you with worry, a sickening feeling of dread filling his heart. “No mon amour, it’s too dangerous, let me be with you.” “Neuvi there’s no time, they’re dangerous and the melusines are defenceless!” Both of you looked at one another as he rushed to embrace you, an unknown fear taking over his heart. “Please mon amour, be careful..” You nodded as you hugged him tight, however you both were forced to part as rifthounds advanced towards you. “I love you Neuvillette..” Those words that once filled his heart with joy now gave him a feeling of dread unlike any other. “I love you more than anything Y/N.”

If he knew that was going to be the last time he’d ever get to hold you close, the last time he’d hear you tell him that you love him, he would’ve held on for longer, he would’ve never left your side. It was all his fault, all his fault that you were gone. As he sat there all alone, sobbing in remorse, the haunting memories kept flooding his mind..

“My dears, there is a grave danger on land, I urge you all to hide, to blend in with the seas and protect yourselves. I will lend you my power so that no harm shall come to you all.” Your eyes glowed as you used a great deal of your powers to create a protective barrier on every single creature in the waters of Fontaine, making you significantly weaker. You swam back up on land, hoping to meet Neuvillette near the entrance of the Merusea village. But something told you that things were about to go wrong, as if these were your last moments. Your eyes widened seeing how many abyssal monsters had emerged, as you fought them to the best of your abilities, just trying to reach near Neuvillette. You knew you had spent a great deal of your power in protecting the oceans of Fontaine and you needed help in fighting until you regained your powers.

Neuvillette’s heart felt uneasy, his stomach churning in uncertainty as you did not come to him. Something had gone wrong, he could just feel it. Leaving every other thought aside, he rushed towards the shore, searching for you while fighting the wretched rifthounds. He called out your name, as the red sky started filling with dark clouds the longer he could not find you. And the very next moment, it was pouring rain. He ran towards you, instantly killing the monsters that had harmed you, dropping to his knees. There you lay, blood staining the sands as deep gashes were visible on your body. He held your weak frame in his arms, hugging you close while tears flowed down his eyes. “Mon Amour!! Please, please no..” Your trembling hand cupped his cheek, tears dropping down your eyes too while you smiled sadly, knowing that you could not be saved. “I..I’m sorry..” He shook his head, and the way he was crying desperately hurt you more than the deep wounds the rifthounds had left on you. “I..I promise..I’ll come back..w..when the tide comes in..I shall return to your s..side once more, my Hydro Dragon..”

Neuvillette started sobbing even more, hugging you close while your blood stained his clothes and skin. “No..no please Y/N, don’t leave me..please I’ll do something, I’ll save you..” He felt your thumb gently wipe away the tears, your cracked voice whispering perhaps the most painful words he had ever heard. “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry..I Y/N, swear on my soul that I will return to your side..I do not know how long it will take..but..I..I promise, this is just a temporary goodbye..Will you wait for me Neuvi?” He nodded through his tears “I will wait for you forever..” You gave him a soft heartbroken smile, leaning your forehead on his as your breathing turned into small gasps “then..then you have my word..when this body disappears, I will turn into water droplets…which will live in your heart…and one day, I’ll come back..I’ll…come..back-..” That was when your body fell limp, your hand dropping down lifelessly, your once warm body turning cold. Neuvillette roared in pain, his powers unleashing and turning every single monster on the land to dust. Storms raged, lighting struck as the Hydro dragon wailed in agony at the loss of his mate.

Your once beautiful self turned into pure droplets of hydro, and Neuvillette watched as they travelled to his chest, being absorbed by his heart. He clutched his chest, crying endlessly in misery. You were gone. His love, his mate, his wife had died right in his arms, and he could not do anything.

Neuvillette clutched his head, crying and begging for those memories to leave him. It was the most cruel form of torture that he had been enduring for the last 500 years. The only reason he was alive was because he had made a promise to you, and the remnants of your existence lived in his heart. Somewhere he still had a tiny sliver of hope that you would come back, but these five centuries of misery had left him scarred and broken. Ever since the day you had died, the oceans of Fontaine had been still as ever, the tides had disappeared completely, and no new life had emerged in the oceans. You were the elemental being that emerged from the purest waters of the ocean, having the power to control the tides. You were the guardian of the marine life of Fontaine, and it was due to your protection that they had been completely unharmed during the disaster. He placed his hand on his chest, begging you just like he had done all these years. “Please Mon Amour, I’m begging you, come back to me, I cannot live like this..I cannot be without you any longer. I need you back, please..Your dragon is broken without you..”

2 Days later, Neuvillette was walking alone by the beach, watching the sunset while memories of the two of you flooded his mind. Oh he still remembered the way your eyes would light up when you noticed how the ocean would reflect the pink and orange tones of the sky. For some reason he felt different today, as if a feeling of anticipation was in the air. He could not understand why, but he sat down on the sand just the way you both used to, watching the sunset.

Suddenly, he let out a gasp, as for the first time in 500 years, waves started forming in the waters, turning into tides that started crashing against the shore. He stood up hurriedly breathing heavily hoping this wasn’t just a dream. Could it be? He then looked down to see shimmering water droplets emerge from his chest, floating towards the water. Countless sea creatures came up to the surface of the ocean, circling around the droplets of water, and in front of his eyes, slowly but surely, the shimmering droplets turned into a beautiful young woman, a woman he so dearly loved, a woman he had been waiting for.

Tears filled his eyes, but for the first time they were because of happiness rather than the anguish he was so used to. There you stood, in all your glory, just as beautiful as he had remembered, if not more. He felt like he was dreaming, as he walked closer to the water. You opened your eyes, looking at the love of your life. You gave him a big smile, holding your arms open for him. “Neuvi..” This was the only thing that he needed to hear as he ran towards you, engulfing you in a desperate and loving embrace, his sobs being muffled in your skin. Light rain fell upon you both, as you caressed his hair, relishing the feeling of his embrace. You knew he had been in so much pain, you had felt it due to your conscience living in his heart. “Oh my love..I’m sorry it took me so long to return to your side again. I know you have suffered so much, but I promise you, nothing will separate us ever again.”

He pulled apart to look at you, lilac eyes scanning every inch of you as if still afraid that you’ll leave him. “You’re really back..oh gosh I’ve missed you terribly Mon Amour..” you placed a sweet kiss on his forehead, hugging him close as every creature in the waters of Fontaine celebrated your reincarnation, waves crashing merrily against one another. “Forgive me for taking so long my heart..But you’ve been so brave, and now I promise I won’t go away again.” After what seemed like ages, your lover calmed down, his tears slowing down as his gloved hands cupped your cheeks softly, his siren eyes filling with love and tenderness. You gave him your sweetest smile, kissing his cheeks as you also took in the warmth of his embrace. Your separation had been too long, and both of you had missed one another terribly.

“Hmm..I never knew you were so sophisticated Neuvillette~” baffled at your sudden playful remark, he ends up laughing at your words, shaking his head. Ah, so this is what happiness felt like. Yes, he remembered now, he remembered how much joy you would always give him. “Oh mon amour..you have no idea how much has happened in these last 500 years..” “Well then I suppose we will have a lot to talk about hm?” He nodded, embracing you ever so protectively. “Yes, but all of that can wait because all that matters to me is you.”

“I’m right here Neuvi, always and forever. These long and painful years shall be our first and last separation. I am bound to you forever..” He looked at you, a beautiful smile adorning his features. “This time, I’ll protect you with all my strength..” As the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes, intense emotions filled your hearts- Love, relief, joy and everything in between. Words were no longer needed, your souls were now complete, hearts full and minds at ease. You both were once again together, after having passed the ultimate test of time and love. Not even the long drawn separation could ever erase the love you both had for each other.

Overwhelmed by these emotions, you both leaned in, closing the gap between your awaiting lips and let them collide with the same intensity as the waves colliding with the shore. The kiss was tender and filled with pure and unending love, with promises of forever being sealed permanently. Now, nothing would ever come in between you both. Now, Neuvillette’s once dark world had been lit up by you again, and he would make sure it would always stay this way.

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin fanart #genshin imagines #neuvilette x you #genshin impact neuvilette #neuvillette fluff #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette #neuvillette angst #genshin fluff #fluff #genshin angst #neuvillette fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

Text

It may be possible to make a whole cycle out of this, but let's see if someone likes it)

It doesn't even have a name yet, but maybe it will appear a little later.

Warning: age difference (implied) ; Yandere! Leon; full control of the reader; a bit of psychological abuse.

(the author got a little fucked up and missed all the deadlines for laying out this strange text, but the work is killing me)

You were emotionally dependent on him. Leon Scott Kennedy has completely taken over your life, managing you like a pet, controlling your every move. Like some kind of subcutaneous tick, he climbed deep inside you if only you were always next to him.

You don't even remember how long ago it started. What was perceived as caring was actually a huge red flag that you saw too late or Leon was just good at hiding his possessive attitude towards you. Now there's nothing to fix. The door to his office is ajar and you are not actually allowed in, but if Leon is at work it always means that his control is loosening a bit. You carefully looked through the crack and saw that he was sitting at a laptop and writing some kind of report. A pile of papers scattered all over the table indicated that it was inundated with paperwork. You didn't bother him. She just slipped past on tiptoe, trying to be as quiet as possible.

It was actually only early in the morning, but you think Leon didn't even go to bed. His fingers continued to tap on the keyboard, and he sighed deeply from exhaustion every now and then. You never got up so early and just wanted to go to the kitchen to drink some water and lie back in a warm bed. Eagerly swallowing water, you could not help but see people running past doing morning jogging, and your heart ached a little with envy.

The weather was so nice outside that you wanted to go for a run, even if you were sleepy.

"You didn't think I wouldn't see you peeping..." Leon's arms closed around your waist, holding you tight against his chest. You set your glass aside and Leon turned you around holding your chin. "What if someone saw my sweet girl in her underwear?"

Oooh, it was strictly forbidden, something that could have pissed off Leon in a split second if a man running past saw you standing in panties and a tank top.

You remained silent, apologetically lowering your gaze. Leon just sighed and reached for your lips, planting a kiss in the very corner. "You always have to be watched over." Leon let out a sort of disappointed yet relieved sigh as he pulled you into a hug, resting his head on the top of your head.

It kills. Sucks out life. He has made you a helpless child who cannot take a single step without him.

"Let's go to bed," a shiver ran through your body. "Be a good girl to me. I love you so much"

He pulled off your shirt, making you shiver in the cool air. Leon picked you up in his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom, where he gently laid you on the bed and began to undress himself to lie under the covers.

"Sweetheart," His voice sounded uncomfortably in his ear as Leon practically lay down on your back, hugging your waist like you were his favorite pillow. His lips found your neck as a hand from your waist moved to your thigh, tugging at the elastic of lace panties, pulling them off your legs. “My poor baby, you can’t do without me at all, am I right? How can I let you go somewhere alone if something is sure to happen to you?"

Tears flowed from your eyes. You could... you were on your own before you met him, but now? A huge part of you no longer belongs to you. You don't have a job, because he knows how to persuade ... you remember just a touch and a gentle, begging whisper over your lips when he towered over you. Leon knows how to drive crazy, knows how to take what he wants and left everything for his hugs. Leon has a very sick concept of love.

"I don't want that kind of relationship, Leon..." You croaked, knowing in advance that it was a failed attempt. Leon just turned you around kissing your forehead and you could feel his muscles tensing up. He never hit you, but his pressure was much worse.

"What relationship do you not want?" Leon's serious voice made you tremble. "Am I treating you bad? You don't even have to do anything. What's on your mind again?"

Silence. Leon seemed to have a counterargument to any of your claims after which you felt terrible. It��s as if you are ungrateful, and he is a dream man who gives everything you want and really Leon never limited you in money: the best outfits, expensive gifts, any purchases. He was much older than you and your friends always thought that you just found yourself a sugar daddy who pays you everything. Oh, how wrong they were!

He adored you to the point of some hidden madness.

Leon kept saying that he was already tired. That his job has taken a normal life away from him, but you don't even know what he does. Working for the government has a somewhat vague concept. And, probably, this work did something with his psyche, if he has some kind of unhealthy mania to keep you away from everyone and always next to him.

"So what kind of relationship do you want?" Again he asks the question. "Talk to me"

"Why are you doing it?"

"Doing what?" Leon turned you around, pressing you to his chest as if you were some kind of child, and his eyes seemed to have grown rough.

You knew it was useless. That even if you leave and try to return to your old life, Leon will make it so that you can't live without him. You loved him before the manifestation of all the red flags, and now you yourself did not know how you feel for him.

"I want to go out, spend time with friends, work... I can't be..."

"Oh, what a silly girl you are." Leon sighed wearily, but his voice softened. He pulled you closer to him, lightly stroking your hair. "But I understand. You just didn’t see what I saw. In fact, you should be glad that I take care of you. Everything I do is only for your benefit, and am I forcibly keeping you at home? We can go for a walk a little later, and you don’t need to work at all. Anything can happen there, and I won’t be there to protect you. Plus, I fully provide for you." Leon took a deep breath, closing his eyes, holding you tightly by his side.

He did not beat you, did not starve you, did not humiliate you, but destroyed you slowly and morally. You buried yourself in his broad chest, wondering if it's okay to accept such love? A love in which all your actions must be approved by Leon...

You can't go anywhere without his permission. But maybe you just need to learn to accept his love? In the end, which of the men will care about you so much? Maybe you're really lucky to have met Leon?

"What are you thinking about," Leon literally felt your excitement, as if some kind of sensor was built into him. He pulled back a little to look into your eyes.

"About nothing," you lied, but Leon knew you too well.

"You know I don't like being lied to!" A shiver ran through your body at his insinuating voice. "Look at me"

"I'm not lying, it's just that you... control me all the time"

"Does my concern feel like control?" You looked up at him, meeting his beautiful eyes, which were genuinely offended, and yet they looked too attractive. His bangs fell into his eyes as he chuckled bitterly. "Sweetheart, you're just too young. I don't blame you, but without me, what are you going to do? Working as a waitress in a cheap diner and smiling at horny bastards who dream of groping you? You're only my girl, and no one has the right to touch you".

His overprotection was depressing. Leon wrapped his arms around your hips, hovering over you, making you dependent on him. His excitement grew with every second from the sight of your naked body. Leon was possessive. Until you started living together, he did not show this trait of his character much, but later this quality manifested itself more and more clearly. Do you still remember when your college friend picked you up for fun, throwing you over his shoulder and what a scandal Leon gave you at home, bringing you to tears. The wall is still dented from his fist, making you wince every time you see it. Kennedy had a sick attachment to you mixed with the fear that you would leave him and never love him again. That you will find yourself another man, one of your peers, but that day you assured him with tears in your eyes that you did not cheat on him. Leon yelled at you so hard that your legs were bent and you sat on the floor when he swung at you for the first time. Pressing a palm to a blazing cheek. It was the first and last time he hit you in a fit of jealousy. Leon himself was frightened of what he did, his subsequent concern and scattering of comforting compliments could not make you forgive him for this, and this burden still hangs on you like a heavy stone.

You cried as he gently made love to you, kissing the tears from your face as he impaled you on his cock. His silent apology touched your lips, smearing the blood from your split lip. Even when your tears dried, leaving behind a salty crust, Leon still continued to fuck you, covering your face with endless kisses and forcing you to close your eyes from a single phrase said in your ear.

"Pretty girl. You will always be mine. I'm so sorry, but I won't let anyone else touch you anymore. You are mine, okay?"

He took care of the aftercare, but it wasn't the Leon you knew. But it became scary when, standing in the shower, you told him that you were leaving, because of which he pressed you with all his might to the shower cabin, grabbing your face with his hands, turning it to him.

"You won't go anywhere! You are mine and no one else's. Don't make me do things I might regret."

Since then, he has taken complete control over you, covering it up with care. Leon did not take your phone, but you were sure that he connected something to it in order to view your messages. Friends constantly called you to parties, but Leon forbade you - his one eloquent look spoke a lot if you disobeyed him.

Part of you hated him, and for some reason, another part of you always looked for warmth and care from him.

"I just want to take care of you," he said as he nestled between your legs. "Don't say such words to me. My little princess, someday you will understand that I'm only protecting you. The outside world is very dangerous and cruel, but I'm glad that I kept my innocence. Without me, you will die"

"Why do you say that?" you asked, but instead of words, he grabbed you in an armful literally to the crunch of the ribs and for some time silently lay burying his nose in your neck. His hands dropped to your hips as he parted your legs, slowly covering your jawline with kisses.

"Because I love you" he slightly raised himself on his hands, burying his nose against your cheek, leaving another weightless kiss on it. “And you love me, and the sooner you realize that, the better it will be for us.”

You doubted when you looked at him. You doubted when returned his kiss and arched under his caresses, however, under them, doubts usually began to dissipate in your head. Like a hard drug, Leon caused intoxication, and if you now say these cherished words, then your golden cage will be closed forever and you will be the one who throws away the key to it.

"I'm sorry," Leon whispered, caressing you. “I shouldn't have done this, and I know you're still mad at me. I swear it won't happen again... but I can't watch anyone other than me touch you."

He really didn't mean to hurt you. Let him still have an unhealthy mania for you. A sick desire to own you and be loved by you, and yet Leon would kill any person if he were now preferred to another. But in those moments, you felt comfortable with him. You calmly fell asleep in his arms and your body still sensitively reacted to his touch. You also had a strange addiction to this man that you are trying to overcome and you also want him to never let you go.

"You have everything you want. I only ask you for love and devotion to me"

Isn't it true?

You fell into the soft pillows, feeling Leon throw your legs over his back, hovering over you. He runs his hands over your shoulders, belly, stroking them making you feel his tension building at the sight of your naked body.

And for some reason it seems to you that you won’t be able to get out ... Perhaps it’s better not to resist and accept his love as it is, than to wake up an animal in him that will take away the last remnants of freedom from you. Leon has a goal to make you dependent on him and he is ready to resort to any means to achieve it.

"You belong to me, and I belong entirely to you. We won't ruin it, just because there's a lot more you don't understand. Be a good girl to me, okay?"

And surrendering to his arms, you understand that you really do not have a big choice.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #reader #resident evil vendetta #leon kennedy resident evil #yandere resident evil #yandere leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #re

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hunny-beann · 6 months

Note

Hi! I love love love your first fic and your portrayal of dream!

Could I request two prompts from your hurt/comfort prompts? Specifically number 11 and number 52?

No Greater Patience

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi anon! tysm for the request, I hope you enjoy the fic!

synopsis:

Prior to his century long captivity, Morpheus and his wife have an argument so disastrous that even after regaining his freedom over one hundred years later, he still questions whether or not he has the right to seek her out.

And yet, the yearning of an Endless is not so easily ignored by the mind, and he soon finds that regardless of his conscious thoughts, all roads lead back to her.

To you.

Prompts:

(hurt/comfort list here)

#11: Please don’t go. #52: I kept this for you while you were away // It’s been two years // I know

Warnings: A once unhappy marriage(?), is Dream himself a warning? Because he still should be.

Word Count: 4,014

Having the opportunity to visit with Death again had been nice.

Far nicer in fact, than the Lord of Dreams would ever willingly admit aloud.

She had always understood him in a way that none of his other siblings ever seemed to manage, and she was far too aware of his flaws and his past to allow him to continue his typical path of avoidance without a bit of a challenge.

Of course, there had been many a time where that had been less than ideal, particularly when Dream had little interest in dealing with those things, big and large, that always seemed to haunt him so.

Still, it was nice to be reminded of the topics and people that he had neglected to consider throughout his time held captive, like Hob Gadling for example, who Dream was now almost eagerly planning to visit at his earliest convenience.

And perhaps he would have headed off sooner, had it not been for Death's one lingering question regarding her brother's personal relationships...

"Dream?"

She had asked just after he had stepped away upon making his intentions of setting off to visit Hob clear.

Slowly, hesitantly, the individual in question turned to face his sister in response, one brow cocked in question to make up for his persistent silence.

Death sighed a bit, almost looking a little unsure before she finally continued upon realizing how little time she truly had for this particular conversation.

She had a rather important deadline to make, after all.

"Have you seen her?"

She asked gently, a sort of pity in her gaze that immediately made the being standing in front of her bristle in response, forcing down the slowly increasing feeling of anger within him as he closed his eyes and took a single deep breath before opening them once more to find her still standing there, waiting.

He shook his head.

"No. Our last conversation was... less than amicable, and was several weeks prior to my disappearance."

Death took a few steps closer, and placed a hand upon Dream's shoulder, watching him fight off the urge to step away, clearly trying his best not to end their interaction on a negative note.

"Then maybe you should consider seeing her as well. Last we spoke she wanted to ask about you, I could feel it, I just didn't want to push-"

"Sister."

Dream interrupted her, his voice not unkind, but still rather stern, at least as much so as politeness would allow.

"She made it quite clear during our last conversation how little interest she had in seeing me again. I would not think it appropriate for me to seek her out in spite of that."

Death sighed, but removed her hand from her brother's shoulder, watching as he nodded toward her in farewell before beginning to move away once more.

Still, no matter how gently she had attempted to address the tense topic, Death was still an older sister, and how could she possibly call herself by such a title if she didn't do some teasing from time to time?

"You cannot avoid the wife forever, dear brother! Do not forget, you are bound to her until I come to collect!"

Dream rolled his eyes, and though Death could not see that particular movement, she could see the way that his shoulders shifted slightly as he chuckled to himself, his head shaking from side to side as he walked off to attend to his own personal duties.

Except several hours and a visit with Hob later, he found that he could do no such thing, as his mind was far too wrapped up with thoughts of his wife.

Thoughts of you.

He had always loved you after all, hadn't he?

You, a deity worshiped into existence by humans, meant to embody nourishment and nurturing, as that found in the relationship between a mother and child, or an owner and their pet.

You were unending and fierce loyalty, the fire in the pit of the stomach, and the gentle hand clutching that of a child during an afternoon walk in the woods, setting them on the right path while never disallowing an opportunity for adventure.

You were beautiful.

And so very deserving of a type of love that Dream had simply been unable to give you.

Sure, he had always been polite, and at times even kind, but considerate was not an adjective that any would have used to describe him, nor his relationship that he shared with you.

Still, you had found it within yourself to love him anyway.

He was cold, calculating, blunt, quiet, and scrutinizing. Dream saw all, every flaw and every weakness, and though it was a rarity that he would point them out aloud without prompting, it was difficult to know just how much he truly saw whenever he looked at you.

That said, none of that had ever seemed to bother you beyond what you could manage.

You enjoyed his company, particularly back when the Dreaming had been slightly less complex, and he had been able to provide you with conversations and time, both things that he would eventually cease to have very much of as the waking world began to shift and change, thus requiring the evolution of the Dreaming as well.

More people meant more dreaming, and more dreaming meant more of the Dream Lord's attention.

And what he had neglected to realize at the time, was that you were the very first thing to lose his affections, his thoughts, and his actions.

It was as if you had always been expendable without ever truly knowing it until he was long gone, a slight indent in the bed that was only ever filled after you went to sleep and before you woke up, leaving you the possessor of both of your rings as day after day he forgot his on the bedside table until it was nothing more than a habit long forgotten.

Where you had once been the love of The Dream Lord, it now appeared that you were his wife in name and nothing more, and though it stung, you had stuck to your duties for far longer than Dream ever would have allowed you to now.

You had always deserved better, even before the being had shifted his attention's elsewhere, and even if he had not known that then, he could so clearly understand it now.

You had never given up on him, not even when nearly all of your interactions seemed to end in dismissals on his part, or arguments due to his seemingly constant exasperation in general. You wanted your husband back, but he wanted to be the Dream Lord far more than he ever wanted to be a husband at that time.

And maybe he had felt that way, sure, but he never should have said it, at least not in the way that he did.

Because he had seen the way that your face fell and your eyes grew teary. Of course he had, he saw all.

But in spite of that fact, he did not go after you when you rushed off to be alone for the one thousandth time.

And the next time that he saw you, you had approached him at his throne in the evening, and quietly, meekly, in a voice he had never heard you use before, asked for a divorce.

You had looked defeated in a way that Dream had found himself surprised by, eyes shadowed, gaze cast downward, and skin slightly paler than usual in spite of how impossible it would be for you to have taken ill due to your godly status.

And any husband, or at least any good one, would have asked you what was wrong, or what had driven you to wanting to leave so suddenly.

But Dream had not been a good husband, so he had simply grown frustrated with you.

He had accused you of being attention seeking for your "childish behaviors", called your attempts at appealing to his emotions laughable, and had all but sneered in the face of your desires.

You were, after all, the Lady of Dreams, everyone knew you as such, and the idea that you could abandon such a title? It was nearly as unthinkable as him leaving his.

His creations, nightmares and dreams alike, adored you, his siblings, (or rather those of whom that cared), seemed to enjoy or at least tolerate your presence when necessary, and most importantly of all, the Dream Lord could not imagine a world within which you were no longer his wife.

It had been centuries since your marriage, and over a thousand years of knowing you prior to that, after all.

It was almost as if he thought of you as his after all of the time of you living within his shadow as nothing more than a figurehead, the wife of a powerful being who was seldom paid any attention to by the very "man" that she had married.

But to Dream's surprise, if your actions had been for attention, you were all too keen on taking things even further, because when he made these accusations in his usual uncaring and borderline insulting tone, you had shouted at him for the very first time that he could recollect.

"It hurts!"

You had cried, eyes brimming with unexpected tears of both anger and sadness,

"It hurts to know that you see me each day without ever truly seeing me, that you call me your wife while scarcely knowing who I am anymore. If me donning the title of Lady of Dreams is so important to you Lord Morpheus, then fine, call me what you will, but know that I do not consider myself your spouse anymore, and have no intentions of staying here in this suffocating realm with you any longer."

And with that, you had gone, and The Lord of Dreams had not seen you since.

Though he had thought about you plenty, as unwilling as he was to admit it.

Your words had gotten to him, though most primarily when he had been trapped for so very long, forced to consider his past actions and mull over all that he had endured throughout the passage of time in spite of how little it was meant to impact him.

You were his wife still, sure, but now only in name, and over a century had passed since he had last heard your voice or seen your face.

Were you still worshiped as you had once been? Did his nightmares and his dreams know where you were? Had you thought of him or thought to visit the Dreaming in his absence? Had you even known that he had vanished in the manner that he did?

All of these questions coursed through his mind, and thoughtlessly, without even realizing it, he brought himself back to where he subconsciously knew that you would be.

Your home.

Nestled deep within the woods of the waking world, in a rural town within a country rather sparsely inhabited, you still resided, unsurprisingly, to this day, and as Dream approached your door for the first time in centuries, he stopped himself before he could raise a fist to knock on the sturdy old wood.

What was he doing here, bothering you after so very long of giving you the space that you so desired?

Had he not made a promise to himself that he would leave you be now that he understood all that he had done to you? All that he had deprived you of by trapping a being such as yourself in a marriage as loveless as yours had been?

At that line of internal questioning, Dream sighed, and turned to leave, only to hear the door swing open behind him just as he did so, a gasp filling the air behind his back before he quickly spun to face the source of the sound.

There you were, a giggling and bouncing baby at your hip, with a bottle in your hand, staring at the personification of dreams with eyes that were beginning to brim ever so slightly with tears.

"Please, don't go."

You whispered, causing the Dream Lord's eyes to widen ever so slightly,

"I need to talk to you."

And much to his surprise, Dream was quick to oblige, stepping into your abode in only a few simple strides, taking in the familiar yet so very changed space and atmosphere found within the walls of your home.

This was where he had met you well over a thousand years ago by happenstance, though he knew all too well deep down that all things happened for a reason, and that his meeting with you had been preordained by his eldest sibling and the stars long before the humans that had created you had even existed.

It was peaceful here, in the deeper woods with you, in your fire-heated home so hidden from view.

Or maybe, it was you who brought on that familiar peace, you who made his physical form relax in spite of how tireless it was meant to be.

He did not linger on such a thought for very long, for fear of what he might come to realize.

"You look well."

He said almost timidly, eyes cast downward and body language tense as he tried not to consider how similarly you looked even still to the last time that he'd seen you.

Beautiful, as always.

You sighed in response, wrestling a lightly chiming metal pendant out of the hand of the child in your grasp before tucking it into your shirt and away from view.

"With all due respect, my lord, I have absolutely no interest in small talk."

You said quietly, watching as Dream raised his gaze to look at you once more, eyes following intently as you shifted the child at your hip slightly, eyes still not entirely rid of the tears that had so clearly threatened to fall upon the sight of him.

"You disappeared."

You stated in a whisper, sounding almost defeated even as Dream nodded in reply,

"I did."

He said.

You sighed again, and looked down at the child, gaze softening slightly as you raised the prepared bottle to it's lips, watching as it started to suckle with delight, chubby limbs wiggling within your grasp, though you notably did not falter.

You never did, you were far too good with children, a fact that Dream had always felt unsettled by.

He was discernibly not a family man, particularly back when he had married you, and the idea that you were meant for something outside of what he could comfortably provide you with...

"And now you're back."

You said matter of factly, using that same tone as before as the being in front of you was snapped out of his reverie at the familiar sound of your voice, his reaction instantaneous.

"I am."

He said simply, watching as you looked up at him once more, tears spilling slightly in a way that for a moment, caused him to freeze up entirely.

You had never been one for crying, not even throughout the many years where he had harmed you through his lack of attention and desire. What could it have been, here and now that would bring you to such tears upon his simple words?

He moved after a moment, almost instinctively, to stand before you, some longing once believed to be long lost within him bubbling to the surface as he raised both hands to your face, cupping your cheeks in order to wipe your tears away with almost trembling thumbs that had nearly forgotten the once worshiped feeling of your skin beneath their pads.

You sighed shakily, looking him in the eyes for one of the very first times that day as you shook your head slightly,

"How could you do such a thing to me, Dream? How could you vanish so entirely without a word to me or anyone that you knew would be worried for you? How could you turn up here so casually and think to turn away and leave without letting me see the realness of you for myself?"

The Lord of Dreams looked down at you with sadness in his eyes, and moved to shake his own head in response, his hands still soft and warm against your skin.

Alive.

"I did not choose to leave, my dear."

He all but murmured, the familiar nickname he had once used for you finding his lips as naturally as water did a spring,

"And I did not think you desired to see me again after our last interaction. Coming here, it was not something I thought to do. I simply did."

You gazed up at him incredulously still stuck on that first part of his statement,

"What do you mean you did not choose to leave, Morpheus?"

You whispered, horror seeping into your tone as the being in front of you faltered, before finally speaking, shame present in every word that he spoke.

"I was captured by a human, and held against my will for over a century. My freedom, as it stands currently, is new. I did not choose to leave and stay away from my duties, I assure you."

You let out a choked and humorless sounding laugh, shaking your head even further,

"And what you consider upon your exit from such a hell is not of who you want to see, but who may wish to see you? Where has my selfish King of Dream's gone?"

You asked, voice slight and smile lopsided as Morpheus sighed and thoughtlessly traced the curves of your lips with his thumb, finding much to his surprise that the shape remained familiar even to this day.

"I was not fair to you, dear wife, not for a very long time. If nothing else, I wanted to know that I had at least respected your wishes for space, though even that may have been self serving."

You adjusted the child on your hip, before you raised your hand up to your husband's, ignoring the slight way that he shivered beneath your touch.

"Whatever do you mean, King of Dreams?"

You whispered, watching as Morpheus gave a humorless sounding chuckle of his own.

"I mean that even today, I could not bear to call you anything besides my wife. I mean that by avoiding you entirely, and calling that your wish, I am able to ignore the fact that I am still not strong enough to give you the end to our union that you so justly requested. I do not wish to lose you in that way, even if I have lost you in all others."

You hummed softly in response, smile growing gently as you removed his hand from your face, giving him a glance that had him dropping the other to his side before you guided him to your sofa, where you sat the two of you down, you with a child upon your lap, and him with nothing but his most bare self, vulnerable in a way he had not felt since he had been so plainly naked behind glass for what had felt like all of man to see.

Seeking out a distraction, Dream looked down toward the child sitting upon your lap, before moving his gaze back up to yours again.

"The child..."

He began, and immediately, you shook your head,

"He is not mine. I found him roaming the woods a few days back, and have yet to find his mother, even after stopping by the nearest town. I'm hoping to hear word of someone searching for him soon."

You said casually, watching with gleaming eyes as the child took your finger and clasped it within his chubby little fist, his grin revealing his few teeth, just barely poking out from beneath his gums.

Dream could not help but smile softly along with him, though his was merely a shadow compared to that of the child sitting atop your legs.

"I see..."

He replied, and you gazed toward him with noted amusement,

"Were you worried that I had stepped outside of our marriage, Lord Morpheus?"

You teased, watching as the man in front of you rolled his eyes before responding.

"No, I was more hoping than anything else. If you had moved on, then I might find it easier now to do the same."

You looked up at him upon hearing those words, before reaching down to place the small child on the floor in front of you with a sigh, thus allowing you to better face the being sitting at your side.

"And why is it that you are so eager to move past me, dear husband?"

You watched as Dream cast his gaze downward, eyes trained on the child playing nearby in spite of the fact that you could tell his mind was far away indeed, off somewhere that you could not follow, deeply considering every event he'd ever endured in search of an answer to your question.

How nice it must have been, to be so knowledgeable.

"If I were to move past you, wife, then I might finally be able to let you go, and if I managed to do such a thing, it would be far more feasible that you could truly hope to be rid of me someday."

You sighed, and reached for the hands of the individual that you had once known so well, and perhaps even did still, causing him to look up at you in surprise at the sudden contact.

"And if I do not want to be rid of you, dear Morpheus? If I said that after a century I have found it within myself to forgive you for the husband you once were in favor of learning what husband you could be now?"

You watched as the being sitting in front of you stared for a moment, as if in complete and utter disbelief, before he slowly began shaking his head, the corner of his lips raising ever so slightly as he leaned in to press his forehead against your own,

"Then I would say that I have known no greater patience than that of my dear wife."

He murmured, causing you to laugh quietly with a subtle roll of your eyes before you reached upward, pulling a pendant on a chain out from where it had been hidden beneath the collar of your shirt.

Dream watched curiously, not entirely sure of what you were doing, until suddenly you yanked at the chain with such force that it snapped in the back, causing either end of it to come tumbling forward into your palm.

Dream raised a brow in response to your actions, but remained silent, seeing in your eyes that you were all too eager to explain, the glint there unsubtle in a way that he was immensely familiar with.

"I kept this for you while you were away"

You stated casually as you pulled one of two clinking pieces of metal off of the chain, revealing to Dream a sight he had never anticipated having the privilege of viewing again.

There, between two of your fingertips and presented to him with such normalcy, was his wedding ring, and he could see from the subtle glint still remaining in your palm that the other metal piece on the chain had been yours.

He stared in shock, reaching for the familiar symbol of his union to you in utter disbelief, even as the coolness of it's structure wrapped itself around his ring finger as he took it and slid it on to its rightful place upon his hand.

"It’s been more than a century..."

He murmured, his tone betraying his surprise in spite of how little emotion he typically showed, even in vulnerable moments like this one.

You smiled at him, shrugging slightly as you slid your own ring onto your finger again, sighing as if having arrived home after a long day of work,

"I know."

#morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #dream x reader #dream the endless x reader #morpheus x y/n #sandman x reader #the sandman x you #dream x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless fic #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x you #morpheus x f!reader #sandman x female reader #dream x fem!reader #the sandman fic #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus fic #morpheus x wife

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avocado-writing · 4 months

Note

Ohhhh my lord I would DIE for some sort of AU where Astarion had a lover/partner before he was turned by Cazador???

And maybe he finds you visiting his grave after being freed from the tadpole or something and mentally debating whether to go to you or stay hidden bc he’s insecure about being a vampire?

Idk I’ve just been thinking about this randomly and the angst would be so goooood

Love Love Love your work Avo 💚💚💚

notes: sorry for this I swear I’ll write something happy next.

pairing: astarion x reader.

warnings: hurt, no comfort

rating: T

He dies and leaves you broken.

At least, you think he does. There is no way for him to come to you through those first few years, when Cazador keeps him imprisoned alone and half-crazed with starvation, sucking the innards out of rats until their desiccated husks are his only company. Eventually he manages to endear himself to his master enough that he is allowed out of the palace, though that is only to bring food back in the form of the unsuspecting nobles of Baldur’s Gate.

It is a miserable existence. He hates his body, hates himself, and as Cazador forces him to seduce people back, using his own beauty as bait, the soft nights he spent with you are all that keeps him sane.

Your memory is a light in the darkness of his new life.

On the fifth anniversary of his death, the first chance he has since he was turned, he cannot help but go and visit his grave. Call him maudlin, but he wonders if it has yet fallen into disrepair. As a magistrate he was hardly the most popular man in the city, and now everyone thinks he’s long gone…

He does not find it empty. He finds a sobbing figure next to the headstone.

You are just as lovely as he remembers, though your face is stained with tears. You grieve as if he died yesterday and not several years past. Your fingers carefully caress the engraving of his name, the way you used to trace them over his cheekbones, his lips.

It is a punch to the gut.

“Why did you have to leave me…” you choke, gripping the grass so hard you tear it from the ground.

He wants to hold you in his arms. To tell you that he is here, that death didn’t take him. He wants to remember what it feels like to touch you, really touch you, not just live by an echo of it in his memory.

But he can’t, because he is a monster. A creature which belongs to the night. You would not want him now, would you? You’re a thing of beating blood and soft flesh and breathed air and life. He simply cannot anchor you to this thing which he has become and drag you down too.

That would just kill him all over again.

Wordlessly, he leaves you to mourn.

He comes back every year, to that little corner of the graveyard. You still cry but as time moves on, it is less, and eventually you make it through a whole visit without shedding a tear. You wax poetic about your favourite memories of him: quiet meals spent together, days when you never left bed, private in-jokes he thinks you would have forgotten by now. He listens to you talk from the shadows.

It is the one thing he has to look forward to all year.

Then you start bringing company.

Your partner holds your hand tightly, and Astarion seethes from the darkness as you tell them about all him, about the pale elf you used to love. They listen as you fondly recount stories of your time together, and Astarion is torn: you no longer sound hurt like you once did, like the grief is a constant companion as you stumble on through life; but he is bitter. You were his. And now your hand easily links through the fingers of another.

He considers attacking you both. Biting you, trying to turn you. Killing your new paramour and having their bastard blood quench his unholy thirst.

But then you laugh, really laugh, tipping your head back in mirth at something they said, and leaning up against them. The way you used to with him.

How can a dead heart break?

He leaves.

The next year, when the two of you visit, you have matching rings on your fingers.

The year after that, you do not come to his grave at all. He wonders if you have finally forgotten about him. He tries to swallow this fact and move on, but what does he have to move on to? More misery. More loneliness. More Cazador.

The year after he finds you there, once again, and he feels the first twinge of joy in gods know how long –

“We had a baby, Astarion,” you say to the cold stone in front of you, carefully clearing off the moss which has attempted to take it over. “A little boy. He’s so precious… I know you never really liked children, but I hope you’d be pleased for me. I miss you, my darling, but I’m finally happy.”

He never visits his grave again.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate@dhampling

#astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion fic #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin x reader #My writing #Request

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orcasoul · 12 days

Text

I'll Come Back For You

Summery: Letting go is hard to do for both of you. But as they say, if you love someone, you have to let them go.

Warnings: Death, Grieving, Mention of Injury, Swearing, No Use of Y/N.

Italics indicate inward thinking.

Joel sat on the porch swing, staring lovingly at how the late evening rays illuminated the varying deep shades of your hair, how it flowed down past your shoulders and blew gently in the summer breeze. God you're a work of art. He'd taken so much for granted before, but now, every time he casts his gaze upon you he savours each and every second.

The slope of your nose, the faint lines at the corners of your eyes, the few strands that have began to turn grey, even the way you hold yourself. If Joel had his way, these moments would never end. These are the moments when his life makes sense. Where he can breathe and just.... be. Where the gnarled roots of wretched sorrow and anger briefly release their strangling grip on his tormented soul.

In these precious moments, in your presence he can once again feel a spark of life ignite inside him, can almost feel the broken shards of his heart piecing themselves back together. He doesn't care how many times Tommy and Ellie have expressed their concern for his mental well being, or how they've begged him to open up to them and not shut them out. He doesn't need their pity or 'support'. You're all he needs.

"You're staring again," you chuckle, while turning to stare at Joel's warm eyes. A fond smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry, I guess I am," he replies softly, but his tone is anything but apologetic. "I just can't help it. You're so beautiful." You smile sadly, looking down at Joel's hand. You reach over, instinct and love propelling you to take hold and lace your fingers with his.

But at the last moment, you stop and drop your hand to your lap. There was no need to look at Joel to know the anguish and longing written all over his face. Hell, you feel it too. The deep rooted need to feel each other's skin and warmth is overwhelming for you both. But it's no use. It can't happen now.

"So are you," you whisper affectionately. Your smile fades and Joel furrows his brow in confusion. "You've been awful quiet this evening, sweetheart. Something on your mind?" Joel asks, his voice laced with concern. You close your eyes and sigh. You don't want to answer. You don't want to have to do this, but it's for the best.

This cannot be ignored anymore. You refuse to sit by and watch the man you love retreat further and further into himself, downing in a sea of sorrow. As long as you are here, you are a painful reminder. You had hoped your presence would have helped Joel to come to terms with what happened, reassuring him that it was beyond his control.

There was nothing anyone could have done. But for all your efforts, you can see now that your being here means Joel is stuck in limbo. He needs to find a way forward, to find something to keep fighting for, and you fear that can't happen unless you give him the space grieve and heal.

"Joel...," your voice wobbles as you struggle against the lump in your throat. "It's time. You need to let me go. You have to allow yourself to move on." Joel's soulful brown eyes meet yours, glistening with unshed tears and you feel your heart breaking for him. 'I... I can't," his voice almost sounds pleading, "I can't do this without you."

He desperately wants to hold you, to keep you in his arms forever. He's never loved any woman the way he loves you. Love isn't a strong enough word to describe the depth of his devotion and affection for you. You are (were) his life, his joy, the very beat of his heart, a missing piece of his soul.

He can't do this, not again. How can he even put one foot in front of the other if you are not in step with him? Without you he will remain hollow, aimless, just a simple lifeform existing from one day to the next. You take a shuddering breath, hoping your next words can convince him.

"Yes, you can, baby. You're the strongest person I know. I know it will be hard and I'm sorry... "I"m so sorry it has to be like this-," "Don't," Joel cut you off gently, shaking his head, "You have nothing to apologise for," "Neither do you," you reply, matter of factly. Joel looked straight ahead, his jaw ticking as he tries to tamp down the anger festering away inside of him.

The self loathing he deserves for failing another person he loves. "I should have been there to protect you." "Oh Joel," you sigh, sadly, "How many times do I have to say it? We cannot control everything around us. You need to accept that life has it's own plan and what will happen, will happen. It's. Not. Your. Fault." You enunciate the last sentence with conviction, tears threatening to chock you at the obvious ruination haunting Joel's visage.

Even from his side profile the pain is clearly evident. A moment of silence follows, after which, Joel turns to face you, eyes redened, tears now trailing the curve of his cheeks. "I love you so much," his pained words are barely above a whisper, as if his grief is physically crushing his windpipe. "And I love you. I always have," you reply softly as your own tears begin to fall.

You want nothing more than to comfort him, to take him in your arms and shield him from his suffering, to wipe his tears away and kiss his soft salt and pepper curls. But it's impossible and you feel so helpless, so useless.... and you hate that. How cruel its, to be so close and yet, so far away.

"And that's why...," you take a deep breath, your own sorrow weighing heavily on you with what you now have to do. "I have to go." Joel's eyes widen but before he can protest, you continue, "I'm sorry," the regret choking you is stifling, "I wanted to help you find a way through this, but I can see now that I'm doing more harm than good. You need to be able to mourn, Joel. And you need to accept the love and support of those around you. You still have family here and they want so desperately to help you, but you've pushed them away. I can't bare to see you wasting away like this."

Somewhere, deep down Joel knew that this time would come, he knew you couldn't stay here forever, but how the hell can he let you go? It would be like expecting him to live without breath in his lungs. "Please, y... you can't go..." Joel's voice wavered as he continued., "I... I can't lose you again, sweetheart." You try to reassure him with a gentle smile, "You'll never never truly lose me, darling."

A sad sigh escapes you, "But you will lose yourself if you continue down this path, and I won't let that happen. Ellie and Tommy are so worried about you. You need them, even if you don' realise it." "How am I supposed to live every day without you? I just...," Joel lets out a shaky breath, rubbing his hand over his face, "I Cant. I've lost too much. I can't do it again."

The defeat in Joel's voice, his eyes, his posture causes your gut to twist up. You want to stay, it's tearing you apart inside, feeling as though you're abandoning him in his hour of need. But staying would only make things worse in the long run. Sometimes you have to make difficult decisions for the greater good. It will be hard for him, but he still has so much to live for, so much love to give, even if he's blind to it right now.

"Joel," you began, voice gentle but firm, "You can. The Joel Miller I know can do anything he puts his mind too." A barely visible smile appears at one corner of Joel's mouth, but as soon as it appears, it's gone. "I want you to do something for me, darling," " anything!" Joel replies in earnest. If you could physically caress his cheek right now, you would. It feels so wrong to not be able to touch him. All you can do is shuffle closer and lean into his tired face.

"I want you to promise me that you'll keep going, that you'll allow yourself to feel everything you need to, and that you'll lean on your family. Promise me that you'll live the best life that you can for yourself, for them... and for me, please." Joel is lost for words. He's done a lot of bad things in his life, but he must have done something good at some point for the universe to bring you to him. He doesn't deserve the endless love and concern you continue to bestow upon him, even in death.

Your bright and hopeful eyes bring Joel a sense of clarity. This is the last thing he can do for you, the last thing you'll ever ask of him, and he will do it, for you. No matter how difficult it will be. He suddenly doesn't feel so lost and adrift anymore. You have given him a new purpose. He will honour your last request until his dying breath. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, Joel whispers, "I promise."

You release a sigh of relief, a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders at Joel's reassurance. He'll be alright. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll come back for you. One day, we'll be together again. But I have to go now," you pause, trying to fight the tears that threaten to fall again, "I won't say goodbye, cause this isn't goodbye. It's see you later."

Joel swallows the sob trying to climb up his throat. His heart is screaming at him to beg you to stay, but he knows when your mind is made up, it's made up. And you've decided he needs this. As much as he can't fathom not seeing you again for god knows how long, he takes comfort in knowing this separation is temporary. He will hold you again, laugh with you again and spend eternity by your side.

"I love you," Joel sniffled, knowing this is it, woe burying itself deeper into his soul. "I love you too," you declare, devotedly. "see ya later?" The words leave Joel's lips as a hopeful question. "See ya later," you confirm lovingly, and with that you fade into the soft golden twilight.

6 Years Later...

Joel couldn't focus, his eyelids like lead and his body trembling. The voices around him seemed distant and muffled one second, then loud and sharp the next. Throbbing pain bloomed through his torso, exacerbated by each breath he took. "What do you mean there's nothing more you can do?" Was that Tommy? "You can't just give up on him!" Tommy shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and fear.

"I'm so sorry, but all we can do now is try to make him as comfortable as we can." Darkness encompassed Joel as the voices began to fade once more. When his eyes opened again, he's met with the grave faces of Ellie and Tommy. He tries to sit up but his limbs feel too heavy, even turning his head is a challenge, and the oppressive atmosphere shrouding the room tells Joel the situation is... bad.

"What-" "Shhh...," soothed Ellie with tears in her eyes. "You're in the hospital." Joel swallowed thickly, wincing as his body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He slowly turned his head to see Tommy standing at the other side of his bed. His blotchy, tear streaked face caused Joel's stomach to twist up in knots. At that moment, it all came rushing back to him.

The ambush while on patrol with Tommy, the broken baseball bat protruding from him (again), Tommy heaving his battered body onto his own horse so he could keep him upright on the journey back. He's been in dire situations more times than he'd like to remember but this time it's... different, both Tommy and Ellie's sombre mien thickening the atmosphere as every second passes.

And that's when it dawned on Joel; This isn't just bad, this is something he won't come back from. "Tell me...," Joel mumbled, weakly. Tommy cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even, "The uh... the doctor..," Tommy lowered his head, shaking it as if in disbelief. Normally, Joel would snap at Tommy to 'spit it out' whenever he fumbled his words, but not this time. Not when his baby brother is clearly struggling to keep it together.

Tommy sighed, lifting his gaze to meet Joel's. "The doctor said you have internal bleeding and uh... there's nothing more they can do." Nothing more they can do. The words echo loudly in Joel's ears. He's had many close calls over the years. He'd used up his nine lives a long time ago and now his number was up. Our luck had to run out sooner or later. Tess' last words return as a grim reminder of the fragility of life in this world.

A part of Joel always knew he'd meet his end sooner rather than later, but being faced with that reality now.... well, nothing could have ever truly prepared him for this moment, the finality of his tumultuous life. Joel remained still, staring up at the ceiling while it sank in, a barrage of emotions crashing over him, simultaneously; Fear of the unknown, worry for the family he'll leave behind, regret for so many past mistakes, but also... acceptance. After everything he feels unexpectedly ready.

He'd kept his promise to you everyday for the past six years. He'd rebuilt his fragile relationship with Ellie. It took many deep and uncomfortable conversations and he always gave her space when she needed it, but slowly the cracks disappeared and the two became closer than ever, he even became a doting grandpa to JJ and a devoted uncle to Dylan.

The past mistakes with Tommy could never truly be erased, but he and Tommy both came to realise that they couldn't and more importantly, didn't want to dwell on it anymore, even Maria had come to accept Joel and gave him a second chance to start over with no animosity between them. He'd done that for you, just as you'd asked of him. Everyday Joel had kept your memory alive as he'd lived the best life he could, and now he's reached the end.

"Joel...," Ellie's quivering voice broke through Joel's hazy mind. The woefulness behind her tears caused Joel's heart to clench. "Come here, kiddo," comforted Joel as he slowly lifted an arm to embrace his adopted daughter. Her warm tears fell onto his neck as he gently rubbed the back of her head. "It's...okay. It'll be okay," he gulped while trying to be strong for her. "How can it be okay? How will any of us be okay without you?" Ellie wept, voice shaking with each breath.

"You're strong and you h... have people who care about you. Don't make the sa... same mistake I did," Joel told her as he thought about how he spent so long pushing people away. "I love you," she breathed out quietly into his ear, and Joel closed his eyes, sighing in contentment. "I love you too, baby girl. You take good... care of JJ,... you hear me?" "I will," Ellie promised. Joel then looked to Tommy, who's head hung low in shame and remorse. "This is my fault," his jaw clenched in anger, the same way Joel's always does, "I'm so fucking sorry. I should have been quicker, should have killed that bastard sooner!"

"Hey...," Joel gently interrupted, "It's not your... fault. We were outnumbered." Tommy shook his head, seemingly unable to accept his failure. "Tommy," Joel began, in a no nonsense tone, causing his brothers' eyes to meet his own, "You got us out... of there and got us home. That's what... matters! So don't you dare b... blame yourself for th... this.

Tommy was speechless for a moment. He grabbed Joel's hand and asksed, "Who's gonna keep my ass in check around here now?" "I'm s...sure Maria has that covered...," it was becoming more difficult for Joel to talk, "and if not this one will do the job," he quipped, pointing to Ellie with a small chuckle but he immediately winced as shooting pains radiated around his lower abdomen. "Easy...," Tommy rested a comforting hand on Joel's shoulder.

As the hours wore on, Joel became weaker, his breathing more laboured. Medication helped to ease the worst of the pain, even though, at first he refused it, insisting that it was pointless to waste it on him. It was only after Ellie had begged him to take it, that he finally relented. Maria and Dina came to say a teary farewell but left the children with a babysitter, as Joel didn't want their last memories of him to be a bruised and bloodied man on his deathbed.

Day bled into night. Ellie and Tommy kept vigil at Joel's bedside while he slipped in and out of consciousness. Joel became even more breathless, his golden hue became pale and clammy. It wouldn't be long now. A sombre silence filled the air, holding more weight than any words could. But even if Joel wanted to speak, he found he suddenly lacked the strength to even open his mouth. An exhaustion he'd never experienced before swept over him like a warm blanket, along with a bone deep, desperate need to sleep. Just for a bit. I'll sleep just for a bit.

*****

"Joel?..." a warm hand on his cheek and a soft voice he'd know anywhere, resounded in his ears like a sweet melody. His eyes shot open and he gasped in shock as he took in the image of you standing beside him and... touching him! Maybe he's dreaming? "Hi, baby," you smiled down at him with tears in your eyes, stroking his patchy jaw, tenderly. "You're here," he sputtered in disbelief.

"I promise I'd come back for you," you replied soothingly. And that's when Joel knew without a doubt he's not dreaming. As if on instinct Joel reached for your hand, clasping it in his own, bringing it to his mouth and pressed his lips to your soft palm. "I missed you," he cried, unable to believe that the moment he's waited years for is finally upon him. How he missed your delicate touch.

He'd dreamed of your embrace every night for the past six years, and now at long last, it's real. Joel swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling himself up, the absence of pain and the rejuvenation of his 'body', another confirmation of his new reality. Joel wastes no time pulling you into his broad chest and you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

You breathe in his woodsy and coffee scent, while at the same time Joel's nose buries itself in your hair, slowly inhaling your scent, one hand splayed across your back and the other cupping the back of your head. Tears stream down both of your faces as years of longing and loneliness come to an end. Now only forever awaits. "I missed you too," you wept, "So much." "I did it, darling. I did it all for you, every day," Joel whispered into your ear. You pull back, enough to look into his eyes, eyes filled with relief and love.

Gently holding his cheek, you reply, "I know. And I'm so proud of you. Now you can rest, my love." As the tears begin to dry and emotions calm somewhat, Joel realises you two weren't the only one's crying. Turning around his heart sinks and chest tightens as he has to witness Tommy holding a sobbing Ellie, while his own tears silently fall. On the bed, Joel's body lies motionless, drained of colour but with a serene peace adorning his relaxed features.

He remains frozen to the spot, wide eyed until you slip your hand into his, giving him a supportive 'I'm here' squeeze. "They'll be okay." You smooth your other hand up and down his arm. "They have each other and their families. They'll take care of them. And when the time comes, we'll all be together again." Joel answers with a silent nod, squeezing your hand in return. You know Joel through and through, and you know that he's always taken it upon himself to care for and protect those he loves.

But now that responsibility is his his no more. It'll be hard for Joel to relinquish said responsibility, which has been the staple in his life, but he has faith in Tommy, knowing he'll look after Ellie. They're family, blood or not. He can rest in that knowledge. "Joel...," he brings his attention back to you, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the smile plastered across your face. "I brought someone with me. Someone who has been waiting a long time to see you again."

Realisation of whom you are referring to flashes across Joel's face, but before the name can pass his lips, he hears the sweetest, most perfect voice say the word he hasn't been called in over twenty years. "Dad...," With bated breath, Joel slowly turned around, his mind struggling to function properly. There she is! His baby girl, standing in front of him, just as beautiful as he'd remembered her.

"Sarah...," Joel whispered in awe, frozen to the spot where he stood. 'Hi, old man," she smiled as she closed the gap between them. Her close proximity snapped Joel out of his statue like stance, quickly pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly to his chest. "I missed you," she cried into his chest, while wrapping her arms around his waist. "I missed you too," Joel choked out, "It's okay baby girl, I'm here, I'm here," he comforted her as his own tears joined hers.

He tenderly drew her head back, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes absorbing every beautiful inch of her features; Her expressive eyes that has passed onto her, that killer smile he'd always thought of so fondly, the blush of pink that always tinted her cheeks. God how he'd missed her. "You're grey," Sarah teased through her tears, running her fingers through his soft curls.

Joel chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth and admiration. "Your beautiful." He pulls her in for another hug and turns his head to you. You are crying silent, happy tears for them both. Joel reaches out, silently beckoning you over. With his daughter under one arm and the woman he loves under the other, he now feels complete.

His post cordyceps life has led to this very moment, to be with the people he loves the most. Of course his heart aches at the thought of leaving Tommy and Ellie behind, but it won't be forever. You're right. It's his time to rest. Sarah takes his hand in hers, her thumb rubbing over the scars on his knuckles. "Let's go home," she said, softly, "We have much to talk about."

With one last glance over his shoulder and a nod of confirmation, Joel is ready. A bright mist hovers where a wall should be, a calm and quiet ambience emanating from within. Together, with linked hands the three of you slowly disappear as you walk through the veil into forever.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller x you #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x you

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casasupernovas · 2 years

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so many harry potter fans completely erase snape's past and write it over to make him a snobby rich kid who speaks like he's a 40 year old count and i think it is so interesting.

because it proves to me that the reality of snape being a kid living in a poverty stricken and abusive household on spinner's end makes you all uncomfortable.

i sure know it made me uncomfortable to re-read the books for the first time and see all the comments about his greasy hair and sallow skin with the new knowledge that these were markers of his poor upbringing. we've heard the saying how being poor never really goes away. snape keeping these two markers as an adult is the author's way of doing it. he's an adult with a better income now but he never quite shakes off spinner's end.

he also stays there as an adult as a way to punish himself, if the front room described as a 'padded cell" is any indicator. he can't move on and he won't allow himself to, and dumbledore won't allow it either. it is he who twists the knife with harry's eyes and tells him this is the only thing he can do to prove he truly loved lily. despite you know, dumbledore apparently not believing this due to his shock at snape's patronus 17 years later.

both times in snape's past when he butts heads with petunia is because she insults his background, something he cannot control. she calls him the 'snape boy' from spinner's end, a clearly 'turn up my nose' moment. harry goes through most books referring to snape as 'snape' because snape is a bully and therefore does not have harry's respect. many times adults correct him to say professor. and his first name isn't said often. so this puts a distance to him, almost others him to this 2D character. but 'snape' is an actual person, with feelings and a past, present and future. so severus snape doesn't take kindly to people insulting his family which is why he claps back at petunia.

we also know snape is a muggle name, his muggle father tobias' name. we only find out in book 6 that snape is a half blood. because what wizarding family do you know with the name 'snape'. and prince isn't part of the sacred 28 either. when harry breaks into snape's memories accidentally in occlumency, seeing those three quick snapshots of his life, it's the first time snape starts to become a real person to harry.

moreover, 8 year old snape is described as dirty, unwashed, wearing clothes that are so mismatched it looks deliberate. he hasn't got clothes of his own, wearing an adults jacket and a woman's smock. snape's family either cannot afford to properly clothe or wash their child or they simply don't care too. when petunia insults him again, this time instead of his father she goes for his mother, as she points out snape wearing his mother's blouse, we get another example of underage magic as he causes a tree branch to fall on her.

now despite this, we know it is likely snape really did want to cause her harm due to her insult. snape already is shown to have poor social skills and snaps rather quickly at any point of animosity, but he was also raised in an abusive household. his father whipped him, and shouted at his mother and god knows what else. makes sense that an 8 year old responds to tension with either insults or violence, mirroring his home. snape is also very reluctant to talk about his homelife at all, ending the conversation very pointedly with "he doesn't like anything much." so it's not surprising that a child raised in this kind of environment would respond violently. even worse, he does it without really realising what he has done considering he looked confused when petunia and lily ran away.

on platform 9 and 3/4, snape is eager to get out of his muggle clothes and when put next to james potter, the stark difference between someone who has been loved and adored and someone who hasn't is explicitly put in the books. and lastly when snape calls lily a mudblood after being yanked upside down exposing dirty underwear, lily points that out. her way of saying 'don't you dare say you are better than me - im filthy? how about you wash your clothes.'

all in all, i think the fans write over this backstory because people do not want to give snape any sympathy. he's not the right kind of sympathetic character. he's an unpleasant adult who made terrible decisions. therefore his tragedy doesn't count. it's much easier to hate him when in your head, snape is a rich, snobby supremacist, rather than a penniless, neglected and woefully misguided teenager.

odd that peope can understand the impact of certain characters childhoods like sirius, regulus, draco or harry and how it affected their actions as teens and later adults...

but not snape.

in fact, snape is probably the poorest character in the entire series apart from maybe voldemort, although the orphanage didn't seem underfunded or anything. fans characterise lupin as poor but there is little evidence for him being poor as a child, more as an adult. i've seen people say this was because of the fact that his father worked at the ministry and arthur weasley worked there and he is not rich but the weasley's are poor because there are 7 of them living on one income. and we can assume lupin's muggle mother worked. if anything, lupin's childhood was comfortable but became unstable due to them constantly moving after he was bitten.

and that's pretty much it, we don't know too much about anyone else. the dursleys are middle class as are hemrione's dentist parents and while the weasley's are poor, they are not poverty stricken - ron never goes hungry. snape also never really adresses his muggle past either. he doesnt bring it up ever. for all his 'life is unfair', he never speaks about that part of his life, choosing to solely reference the marauders. and the two main bullies, james and sirius both being rich kids bullying the poor boy is not lost on me. especially when they constantly reference his greasy hair all the time.

poverty greatly affects a person well into adulthood and we see with snape; it never really goes away. sure he's well spoken now, and doesn't wear mismatched muggle clothing but the remnants are still there. in fact, one of the reasons he hates harry intially is because he thinks the boy has been pampered. quite unlike his upbringing. so i think it's telling how many people refuse to acknowledge its very existence or the how it shaped snape as a person.

because i think it all makes you feel really uncomfortable. why else would you ignore or completely erase it?

#harry potter #severus snape #pro snape #snapedom

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win-writes · 1 year

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Poe + Dark chocolate 5 pls!

𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 5: “𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺”

༶ pairing; poe x fem!reader

༶ contains; sub!poe, getting caught masturbating, use of good boy, teasing, handjob, spitting, kissing

༶ word count; 1,470

༶ word count; this turned out way longer that i wanted but oof,,, hope you like it sweetheart!! tysm for your request i had fun writing this hehe

Pure torture

One simple sentence. Two words that perfectly describe Poe's current state. Laying on his back in your shared bed, clothes scattered all over the floor, with one hand covering his eyes while the other one is palming his hard cock, Poe can't help the whines and whimpers that escape his drooling mouth, filling the quiet room. He cannot recall how long he's been stuck in this position, unable to reach that release he's been chasing these past few days.

You, his lovely sweetheart, were gone on a business trip. That left your lover no choice, but to pleasure himself all on his own. But how could he? How could he ever reach his high without your soft lips or your tight pussy wrapped around his dick? How could his own tired and worn out hand ever replace your delicate fingers and your gentle palm?

Poe keeps stroking his hard member, with the only thing closest to you being his mental image of you riding him. He keeps crying out your name, soaking the pillow under his head with saliva. He's so lost deep into his nasty thoughts of you, he swears he can hear you calling out to him right now as if you were there.

"Edgar darling, do you perhaps need a helping hand?"

Except you are there.

Poe's head rises from the covers, revealing the flustered state he's in. His long beautiful hair may cover a lot of his features, but not enough to hide the embarrassment panted all over his face. "My.. my love what.. w-what are you doing here?" he stutters while his hands desperately try to hide his naked form from your sight." I didn't know.. you'll be back today.. " he looks down on his hands, not having the courage to look you in the eyes.

"I thought it would be fun to surprise you.." Poe can't pinpoint exactly when did you walk all the way to his side from the door, making him yelp at the feeling of your soft hand touching his wet from drooling chin, bringing him up to face you "And turns out, I was right" you whisper right above his lips.

Poe leans forward, hoping to catch your lips into a kiss he has been waiting for days, but it seems like you have other plans. You back up again, undoing your shirt's buttons painfully slow for Poe's liking, "Not so fast darling" your voice sounds so erotic, but your words make your lover bite his lower lip and frown his eyebrows.

Once you're done focusing on your shirt, your hands move lower, carefully and just as slowly taking off your pants, "Is this what you've been doing while I was away?" You let your pants drop to the floor before climbing up to the bed, until your clothed core is hanging over Poe's now hard rock cock and your lips ghost over his once again "Touching yourself so desperately while thinking of me?" Your lover is now panting below you, patiently waiting for your next move and hoping you'll finally give him what he's been waiting for since the moment you left your house.

"Did you manage to cum without me, my love?"

Poe's hands grip on the sheets, hopelessly trying to contain them from touching you without permission, knowing full well you might punish him for it. And like the good boy he is, he simply answers your question, "N-no.. Not even once.." he attempts to hide his eyes from you again, but you're fast to hold him back into his pillow by pushing your hand against his forehead, finally revealing his whole face, "There's my good boy. Even your body knows you're not allowed to cum without me."

You decide to reward his obedience with a steamy kiss. The moment your lips crushed against his, Poe groaned into your mouth. He kissed you like it meant the world to him. Like it's the last time he's ever gonna taste the sweetness of your lips. But unfortunately for him, you broke your kiss almost as soon as it started, "Now now, why don't you tell me what you want my darling?" you ask him as you sit up on his lap, feeling his dick hitting your lower back.

"I-I.." Poe loses his words at the sound of your question. Just a few minutes ago, he was twitching just at the thought of you on top of him, and now out of nowhere his wish came true. His facial expressions make it obvious to you that your man is overwhelmed by your sudden arrival. You give him your warmest smile as you slowly grind your ass against his twitching cock, "Come on my love, use your words and tell me what you want"

Your lover hates it when you act like this. You have the face and voice of an angel, making him think that you're about to grant all his wishes and he doesn't have to worry about a thing. But at the same time, the words you spit out and the way your body moves, burn away that halo above your head.

But that's exactly what makes him love you even more.

"Please stop teasing me and touch me already"

Poe doesn't fail to notice the smirk of your lips at the sound of his reply, "How could I say no when you ask me so nicely?" You carefully crawl further down on the bed, so that you're directly facing his cock. The young author sinks his teeth into his lip once again at the hot sight in front of him. You give his shaft a playful kitten lick, feeling his manhood throb at the sudden contact. You giggle at your boyfriend's adorable reaction, but you're not quite done messing with him yet.

"Oh? Are you already that sensitive darling?" you softly place his dick in the palm of your hand, gently giving it a stroke, earning another moan from him, "Then I guess just my hand is enough for today, hm?" Poe was about to speak, but only a whine managed to escape his lips the moment he felt your spit hitting his cock. You started palming him at a slow pace, spreading your saliva all over his length, making your man a mewling and sobbing mess. You can already see his tip leaking precum and Poe's cheeks painted red. He feels so incredibly ashamed that he's about to come when you've barely stoked his dick yet, but he can't help himself. He missed you so much, it's only natural he wouldn't last longer.

Just when he was about to ask your permission to cum, he accidentally shot his seed all over your face and hand. You widen your eyes at his early release, "Done already? Without even asking?" Poe tries to catch his breath in order to come down from his high, nervously looking in your eyes "I- I didn't mean to! Please I'll be good next time, i promise!"

Oh, how you loved that look on his face; half-lidded eyes, mouth agape, an overall lewd expression taking over all his pretty features. How could you ever punish such a lovely face? You sit up and wipe your face, collecting his cum in your fingers. You look him in his eyes as you sensually lick your creamy hand "It's alright baby" you tilt closer to his face without breaking eye contact "I'm not gonna punish you today, so don't worry about it"

Your lips connect together yet another time. His hands immediately find their way into your hair, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft and warm, panting slightly into the kiss, allowing your tongue to slip inside his mouth and letting him to taste himself. Poe lets a low mewl escape into your mouth, making your heated cunt clench around nothing.

It doesn't take long for him to run out of breath and break the kiss, "I missed you.. I missed you so much.." he tucks some of your locks behind your ears to take a better look at your angelic face. You smile at him, placing a soft peck on his forehead "I missed you too my love" Poe places his hands on your waist, drawing circles on your bare lower half "This wasn't fair to you.. I was the only one taken care of.." his tone is now completely different and his eyes are dark "I told you it's alright, I don't-" in a swift move, Poe has you pinned down on the mattress. His skilled fingers brush over your drenched panties, making you moan at the sudden contact "Let me do this for you please" he drags your wet undies to the side, making direct contact with your dripping pussy "I promise I'll make you feel good my love"

#win; writes #poe x reader #poe smut #poe x you #poe x y/n #bsd poe #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd smut #edgar allen poe x reader #edgar allen poe bsd #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut

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