#closing his eyes right as he places a long lingering kiss to her forehead while a single tear roles down his cheek

[extinctlesspains]

Can you do one where Kwon and reader are dating and she is also part of the Cobra Kai team at Sekai Taikai? She and Tory share a room at the hotel, but after Kwon wins Robby's room, reader sneaks out to stay in his room with him and it's fluffy?

𝐻𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙, 𝑀𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 (𝐼𝑇'𝑆 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹𝑌)

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑠 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝑅𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑦𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 , 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑦 ♡

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The excitement of the day buzzed through you as you slipped quietly into the hotel hallway, the door to your room closing with a soft click. Tory was already fast asleep, her steady breathing filling the room moments before you left. You felt a twinge of guilt sneaking out, but the anticipation of seeing Kwon overshadowed it. He’d sent you a text right after the bet: “Won Robby’s room. Come find me.”

The hallway was dimly lit, with just the faint hum of the hotel’s air conditioning and distant murmurs from other rooms. Every shadow felt like a watchful eye, but you knew this was worth the risk. The Sekai Taikai was intense, and the only thing that got you through each match was knowing you’d have moments like this with him.

When you reached his door, you knocked softly. Almost immediately, it creaked open. Kwon stood there in his Cobra Kai hoodie, his hair slightly tousled, eyes lighting up as soon as he saw you.

“Took you long enough,” he teased, his voice low, pulling you inside before you could respond.

“I had to wait until Tory was out,” you whispered, rolling your eyes. “She’d kill me if she knew.”

Kwon smirked, closing the door behind you. “She won’t. You’re safe here.”

The room was different from the one you shared with Tory—less cramped, and with the scent of Kwon’s cologne lingering in the air. He guided you to the bed, his hand warm in yours. You sat down beside him, your head finding its place against his shoulder.

“You were amazing today,” he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. “That kick in the second round? Flawless.”

You grinned, feeling your cheeks heat up. “You weren’t so bad yourself. Winning against Robby? That was intense.”

He chuckled, a deep, soothing sound. “Had to do it. Needed this room, didn’t I?”

You laughed softly, turning to look up at him. His eyes held that familiar intensity, but there was softness there too—a side only you got to see. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I fight better knowing you’re watching,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart fluttered, and you leaned closer. “Same here. We’re a team, on and off the mat.”

He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Tomorrow’s going to be tough. We have to be ready.”

“We will be,” you assured him. “Together.”

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, the chaos of the tournament fading into the background. The weight of the competition, the pressure of winning—it all melted away in this room. Here, it was just the two of you, tangled in each other’s presence.

Kwon pulled you down so you were both lying on the bed, his arm wrapped protectively around you. You traced lazy circles on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Think we’ll win?” you asked softly.

He tilted your chin up, his eyes meeting yours. “With you by my side? No doubt.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the room. “You’re my peace, you know that?”

His expression softened. “And you’re mine.”

In that moment, the outside world didn’t matter. The tournament, the rivalries, the expectations—they all faded away. All that was left was the quiet promise between you, unspoken but understood: whatever tomorrow brought, you’d face it together.

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A/n: EEEE I love this one too!! I know some things don't match up but hopefully you guys can read past that 💕

[leslieseveride]

I NEED CHENFORD FOREHEAD AFFECTION!!!!!!!

[connorsui]

Everyone who knows Satoru can’t help but notice that his antics are as unpredictable as they are endearing. He’s charmingly irreverent, with an overconfidence that’s as endearing as it is exasperating. His brightest, widest grin often precedes some act of mischief, and you’ve long since accepted that your boyfriend is as much of a menace in private as he is in public.

Which is why, as you’re chatting with your friend on the phone one lazy afternoon, you’re not entirely surprised when Satoru’s antics find a way to sneak in. You’re mid-conversation, distractedly folding laundry while Satoru lounges nearby, scrolling through his phone. He’s stretched out on the couch, his white hair messy from the way he keeps running his fingers through it, looking every bit like the troublemaker he is.

“Yeah, so I told her I couldn’t make it,” you’re saying, balancing your phone between your shoulder and ear. “I had to stay home and make sure my husband.... didn’t accidentally burn the place down again.”

It’s an offhand comment, a little joke tossed into your conversation, but it’s enough to make Satoru freeze.

“Babe, what? Wait, I… what was that?” His voice is higher-pitched than usual, his scrolling forgotten as his blue eyes snap to you, wide and disbelieving.

You glance over at him, pretending you don’t notice the way his cheeks are rapidly turning a shade of pink that rivals the cherry blossoms in spring. “What was what?” you ask innocently, though the twitch at the corners of your mouth betrays you.

“No, no, no.” Satoru shakes his head, dropping his phone onto the couch and sitting up. “Husband? You just—what did you call me?”

You wave a hand at him dismissively, continuing your conversation with your friend. “Oh, don’t mind him. He’s just being dramatic.”

But Satoru is relentless. He crawls across the couch, his long fingers reaching for you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter. His body presses against yours as he pulls you closer, his lips planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “Y/N, babe, I’m not dramatic—wait, yes, I am, but that’s not the point! You called me your husband!”

You ignore him, your friend’s laughter on the other end of the line only fueling your own amusement. Satoru, however, is thoroughly flustered now. His cheeks are burning red, his eyes darting around as though searching for an anchor, something to steady his racing heart. His hands rest lightly on your waist, the warmth of his palms seeping into your skin.

“Y/N,” he tries again, his voice softer, more incredulous this time. “Did you mean that? Like, are you—oh my god, are you proposing to me right now? Wait, no, I was supposed to propose!”

That does it. You can’t suppress your laugh any longer, the sound spilling out of you as you glance at his adorably panicked expression. “Relax, Satoru. It was just a slip of the tongue.”

But he’s unconvinced. His hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs brushing lightly over your skin as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You just called me your husband. Why?”

You shrug, fighting back another smile. “I don’t know, it just… felt natural, I guess.”

Satoru groans, flopping dramatically onto the couch with a hand over his chest like he’s just been struck by Cupid’s arrow. “You’re gonna be the death of me... how am I supposed to recover from this?!”

You roll your eyes, setting your phone aside as you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering longer than usual. “You’re such an idiot, Satoru.”

He doesn’t take that lightly. His hands shoot up to pull you down next to him, his lips meeting yours in a soft, needy kiss. It’s quick but full of the kind of urgency only Satoru can manage. He pulls back slightly, his face inches from yours as he grins. “And you love me for it, Mrs. Gojo.”

“Not yet,” you remind him, unable to hide the way your cheeks heat at his words.

Satoru’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Not yet,” he echoes, but there’s a tender gleam in his gaze. “But soon, yeah?”

It’s impossible to keep a straight face when he’s looking at you like that—so full of love, hope, and just the right amount of cheek. His hands slide from your waist to your back, pulling you flush against him. He leans in for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, as if he can’t help himself. His lips travel to your neck, placing gentle kisses along the curve, each one making your heart race faster.

“Oh, whatever will I do with you?” you murmur, and Satoru only beams, tugging you closer until you’re tangled together on the couch, his lips never far from yours.

“Marry me,” he says simply, his voice light and teasing but his eyes shining with sincerity.

“Maybe,” you reply, laughing as he buries his face in your neck, tickling you with the lightest touch of his breath.

“Not maybe!” he insists, his laughter mingling with yours. “...because soon you will be mine”

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Three

☒ Summary: Vox was getting too attached to you. You should have noticed it sooner when he began treating you with more consideration than anyone else. But you assumed it was all an act. You were sorely mistaken. You hoped that Alastor had a plan to get you out of this arrangement. 

☒ Warnings: wife!reader, she/her pronouns used, angst with slight comfort, strong hints of vox being in love with the reader, vox kisses reader on the forehead, alastor and the reader actually kiss and hug, lucifer is silly in this, jealous!alastor, reader expierencing a lot of conflicting emotions, lots of inner turmoil

☒ Word Count: 2,166

The ride back to Vox Tec Headquarters was quiet. However, Vox held onto you tightly the whole ride home.

Home? Is that what you consider this godforsaken place now? 

You lost your way, and seeing your husband tonight after several years reminded you of what once was your home. 

"Who" your home was; Alastor.

But that resentment you had for him still lingered in your heart. 

It would be a lie if you said you hadn't gotten accustomed to Vox's company. Even now, he helped you out of the car. Holding your hand tightly all the way up to your bedroom. Vox was a gentleman when it came to you. He respected your privacy, turning his back while you changed into something more comfortable. But he was also possessive, and that struck fear within you.

He was soft-spoken while he tucked you into your bed. The same bed that Vox picked out specifically for you. He knew what colors, what patterns, and what textures you liked. Taking it all into account when he bought you your blankets and clothing and accessories.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Vox cooed, rubbing your arm softly. He sat at the side of your bed, eyes locked with yours. You tensed from his touch. The conflict between appreciating his gentle caress and knowing it was wrong to feel that way made guilt pool in your gut. 

"I'm fine," You lied, averting your gaze from his. Vox's touch trailed lower, giving your hand a firm squeeze before he stood. "It's been a long day for you. Try to get some rest." He spoke calmly. Turning his back toward you before making his way to your bedroom door. 

"V-Vox," You called out, stopping him in his tracks before he could take his leave. "Yes, sweetheart?" He turned to face you, offering you a welcoming smile. You balled the duvet up in your hand. The same one the man standing before you hand-picked for you. "Thank you for respecting my wishes today." You whispered before turning on your side. Not wanting to see Vox's expression to your earnest words. 

The room was silent for a few beats. Making you feel as though Vox was seeing right through your lies. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you squeezed your eyes shut. Hoping that he would either reply or take his leave already. Your train of thought was cut off when you felt a set of lips press against your forehead. Vox's lips. 

"Anything for you, sweetheart." Before you could process the kiss Vox gave you, he was gone. You turned around the moment your bedroom door closed shut. 

Fuck. You were in deep shit. 

Vox was getting too attached to you. You should have noticed it sooner when he began treating you with more consideration than anyone else. But you assumed it was all an act. You were sorely mistaken. 

You hoped that Alastor had a plan to get you out of this arrangement. 

Alastor paced around his suite, wracking his brain on how to free you of your contract. Being on a leash himself kept him constricted in some ways, but there had to be a loophole. The Radio Demon tried to keep his composure, but knowing that his beloved wife had been confined by Vox, of all people, was unacceptable.

He never thought you would fall prey to someone as pitiful as Vox. But Alastor also knew that his vanishing without a word didn’t leave you with many options. He ached for you, truly. The Radio Demon loved you with everything he had. Even the parts of himself that never saw the light of day. Alastor’s deepest thoughts and emotions were all reserved for you.

“Hey Alastor, you in here?” The door swung open quicker than The Radio Demon could see. Alastor quickly straightened upright, clearing his throat before addressing The Princess of Hell. Who just so happened to barge into his room. “What is it?” Alastor beamed painfully wide as his patience wore thinner by the second. He didn’t have time for Hotel duties at the moment. You were his top priority.

“Sorry to barge in, but... my dad is here! Just wanted to keep you in the loop!” Charlie exited without another word. She sensed an air of malice and wanted no part of it. Alastor was a feared overlord, and she retained a handful of horror stories about The Radio Demon himself.

A lightbulb went off in his head. This was perfect- Lucifer was the answer to breaking your contract with Vox. All he would have to do was get on The King of Hell’s good side. Alastor let his shadows carry him to the foyer, being met by the sight of none other than Lucifer himself. “Uh, Charlie! Who is this?” The short man shot Alastor a pointed look. “Alastor! It’s a pleasure, quite a pleasure indeed!” The Radio Demon shook Lucifer’s hand firmly. Biting back the insults he wanted to utter due to The King of Hell’s stature. Opting to play nice for the sake of your soul.

“Yeah, uh- good to meet you. Anyway, Charlie mentioned something about a tour, so we must be going!” Lucifer’s tone was passive and short. Alastor knew it would take a bit more false kindness to get on his good side. “Oh, allow me! I am the executive producer of this lovely hotel, after all!” Charlie smiled widely, finding it flattering that Alastor cared enough about the hotel to offer his services. Little did she know that he had ulterior motives. “Aww, that’s a great idea! Thank you, Alastor. I’ll leave you both to it!”

Lucifer stuttered as he tried to find the words to protest. But it was too late. Charlie was already enamored in a conversation with Vaggie. “Come along!” Alastor’s smile grew wide as Lucifer treaded behind him. The moment they reached the second floor, Alastor spun around. Meeting Lucifer at eye level. “Let me cut to the chase! I have a favor to ask of you, Luci!” The Radio Demon quipped. “I knew there was something off about you. Well, cmon spit it out. I came here for my daughter! I don't wish to waste my precious time with common demons such as yourself.”

Alastor contemplated biting his tongue off at that moment because the words that threatened to tumble out of his mouth were way beyond foul. But instead, he took a breath, reminding himself of the greater good. “I’m glad you mentioned your darling daughter, Charlie! You see, she and I made a little deal of sorts! I would be willing to forfeit our contract in exchange for another contract being terminated!” The Radio Demon was bluffing, but he was sure the fool would buy it. Lucifer’s chest puffed up in defense. Alastor could see the wheels turning in his head as The King of Hell contemplated the trade. “Lemme guess, you got yourself in a bad contract and need some help getting out of it?” Alastor’s laughter filled the hallway from the remark. Not even Lucifer himself could get Alastor out of his deal, but that was beside the point.

“Oh heavens, no! This is about my wife. She sold her soul to one of the Vees. I need that deal to be reversed! So, do we have a deal?” Alastor outstretched his hand. Hoping that Lucifer would shake it without further delay. “The who now? The Bees? Fine, fine. I don’t really care as long as my Char Char is out of harm's way. You got yourself a deal, Malastor!” Alastor cringed at Lucifer’s lack of awareness. He was truly in his own world. But that worked to The Radio Demon’s advantage. So it didn’t really matter either which way. “Lovely!” With that, the two men shook on it. Sealing their deal. Alastor chuckled under his breath from how easy that had been. Lucifer was a common idiot. No wonder the state of hell was in shambles, he thought.

But with the King of Hell under contract with him, it was only a matter of time until you were back in Alastor’s arms. He would make sure of that.

A cool gust of wind stirred you awake. It was nearly three in the morning when you heard someone calling for you. The radio static laced Alastor's voice as he spoke your name. Surely you were still dreaming, right? 

"Don't be alarmed, my dear! It's only me." Alastor sat atop your bed. The same way Vox had earlier. His long fingers played with a strand of your hair, pushing it out of your face as he gazed upon you. "How did you get in here?" You nervously whispered. Slowly, you sat upright, grabbing ahold of your husband's face. His cold flesh meshed well against your warm hands. He really was here. 

"I have my ways!" Alastor quipped, leaning forward to capture your lips with his. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you melted against him. Oh, how you missed his touch. Seven years was far too long without him and hurt feelings aside, you loved this man with your entire being. "My love, if you get caught-" You whispered against his lips, but Alastor simply silenced you by stealing another kiss. 

"Nonsense! It's nothing I can't handle! Don't worry your pretty little head, I have an infallible plan to get you out of your contract with Vox." Excitement surged through you from the good news. "Really? That's amazing!" You beamed, wrapping your arms around Alastor's neck. Hugging him as tightly as possible. Your husband relaxed under your touch. Allowing himself to enjoy this long-awaited moment with you.

"I need you to hold out for a bit longer, my dear. Can you do that for me?" Alastor whispered into your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back with the pads of his thumbs. You nodded fervently. Whatever it would take, you would endure. "Yes," You sighed a breath of relief. Freedom was nearly within your reach. It was only a matter of time. Suddenly, a knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. 

"Sweetheart? Are you awake?" 

Fuck, it was Vox. 

You frantically pulled away from Alastor's embrace. Presenting him with a frightened look. "Go, now!" You nervously hushed, giving him one last kiss before he stood. Alastor's classic grin remained, but his eyes were full of remorse for you. He hated to leave you here like this, but there was no other way. Just a little bit longer. Alastor whispered a small "I love you" before his shadows enveloped him. Whisking The Radio Demon away right in the nick of time.

Moments later, your door swung open. Revealing a worrisome Vox. "Sweetheart, why didn't you answer me?" He quickly made his way to your side. His slender fingers grasped your chin. Vox tilted your head every which way, scanning for any abnormalities. "I-I'm sorry! I had a nightmare... so I was still pretty out of it when I heard your voice." You lied. Trying your hardest to force a smile his way. Vox's expression softened from your confession. 

"You see, this is why I insisted on installing cameras in your room. I would be able to get here sooner at times like this." Vox sighed, pulling you into his chest. His arms enveloped your waist. "No cameras in here, you promised..." You mumbled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his frame loosely. If you were entirely unresponsive, Vox would know you were being furtive. So you played your part. Whatever it would take, right?

"I did promise. You're right, sweetheart. But the offer still stands." Vox squeezed you tighter. The embrace bordered the lines of discomfort from how he held onto you. All you could do was nod against him, hoping he would release you sooner rather than later. "I-I know, thank you." It felt like pulling teeth, forcing out those words. Slowly, Vox pulled away. He gently pressed your shoulders down before tucking you back into bed. 

"Try to get some more rest. It's still early, sweetheart. If you have another nightmare, just call out to me. I'll be here." Vox pressed another kiss to your forehead before standing up. He walked over to the chair that resided in the corner of your room. Vox made himself comfortable, gaze never once faltering from you. You squeezed your eyes closed. Forcing yourself to doze off despite the pressure you felt from his watchful gaze. 

Alastor had remained outside your bedroom window. Overhearing your and Vox's entire conversation. His blood was boiling. Is this what you've had to endure for all these years? Alastor clawed at the side of the building right beside your window. His anger was only building the more he replayed the air of discomfort you illuded. Vox made a grave mistake thinking he could win you over.

You were his wife, and he would remind Vox of that fact. It was only a matter of time. 

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts

[cntloup]

18+ MDNI Continuation to this Price's Bratty Daughter!Reader x Ghost

After a while, you start to feel some sort of attachment to him, your gaze fixating on him more often, your touches lingering... and of course he notices considering how observant he is. 

And unbeknownst to you, he feels the same. But it’s not right. He’s afraid he won’t be able to give you what you desire. Sex is one thing, and love is another. He's a broken man. And he will break you too if you ever get too close. 

So he tries to keep his distance. And he gets rougher in bed, trying to detach all his feelings from his actions. He's got you in a headlock as he relentlessly rams his thick cock into your tight sopping pussy, thinking that you’re just a spoiled brat who needs to be taught a lesson. 

And of course, he cums inside you again, releasing pearly beads of his cum in your womb, mixing with your cream and leaking out of your abused puffy pussy. 

And unbeknownst to him, you’ve stopped taking your pills for a while, thinking maybe with a baby, you could get him closer to you, receiving some sort of affection, something at least resembling love from him. 

When you announce your pregnancy, he’s kind of shocked since last time he checked, you were on the pills. But he’s also relieved, “About time...” he mumbles under his breath. 

He'd love to knock that bratty attitude out of you. Maybe you start to act more mature now that you’re pregnant. 

Also his feelings for you were unbearable as it was, and he was planning to finally confess long before you told him that you were pregnant. But he always backed out at the last second, keeping his emotions sealed off. He's not good for you, he always thought.

But now the thought of your belly swollen with his baby has made him absolutely feral and he can’t keep away from you anymore. 

Eventually, he starts to open up and be more affectionate towards you. It wouldn’t be fair to you if he was cold and distant with you in your fragile state. That's what he tries to tell himself, thinking this is not him showing his love to you, but only being considerate. 

Once Price finds out that Ghost has knocked you up, he’s furious. But then you tell your dad that you love Ghost and you wanna keep the baby, and he wouldn’t deny his baby girl her love and happiness now, would he? 

He begins to think it’s better that it’s Ghost than any of those flimsy boys who always chase you around. Eventually he gets into the idea of you two being together. 

Under one condition. You should get married. Ghost is a man who can set you straight. And especially now with a baby on the way, you will finally mature. It's basically perfect for him. 

So Ghost starts to think that he may be actually good for you, now that your dad approves. He's perfectly capable of protecting you, also putting you in your place when you act up.

That’s when finally, Simon comes around and tells you he loves you after a night of passion in which he surprisingly was gentler than before. 

“I love you.” he murmurs while panting heavily above you, sweat dripping down his forehead, strands of blonde hair sticking to his skin.

You think that you haven’t heard correctly since you’re still lost in your post-climactic haze. But as you gaze into his gorgeous brown eyes, burning love evident in them, you know that you heard right.  

“Really?” you grin, tears prickling the corner of your eyes, “Yeah. I fuckin’ love you.” “I love you too, Simon.” and he kisses you oh, so lovingly, completely in contrast to his previous kisses that were fiery and rough. 

On your wedding night, he gently removes your lingerie and lays you on the bed. Your baby bump is slightly visible and you lightly nuzzle your palm on it instinctively. 

He tenderly trails sweet open-mouthed kisses on your skin, until he reaches just above your tummy and kisses the back of your palm before removing your hand and kissing your belly, “I’ll be gentle, lovie.” he promises, voice soft and soothing as he glares into your anxious eyes and you nod. 

He makes love to you for the first time. There's no slamming into you harshly and no bruising grasp on your hips. No, he wouldn’t do that to his sweet little wife.

There's only him softly rolling his hips into you while kissing your lovely lips and tracing his rough hands across your delicate body with feather-like touches.

He's wary of your swollen belly as he splits your tight seeping cunt open on his fat cock. There's the familiar slight sting at first which quickly fades away as pleasure begins to take its place.

He gives gentle languid thrusts as you sob and mewl under him, your nails grazing up and down his muscular back and broad shoulders.

With a soft cry of his name, the burning euphoria of your orgasm rushes through your body, “Good girl. My girl. My beautiful wife.” he praises and his low growl reaches your ears as you feel the familiar warmth filling you up.

A/N: the horny brat taming ones will come back dw :)

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

[d1xonss]

Cigarettes After Sex

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+) and a lil bit of angst

✧ Word Count : 5.6k

AN ~ Not a request but I had this idea that I just couldn't get out of my head. Plus I've been in the mood to write something a little spicy since you guys liked the Older oneshots so much. Hope you enjoy!

Your eyes stayed focused on the pages of the book you were reading in front of you in the smoke filled garage, occasionally turning the pages to continue on with the chapter. In the background you could hear the tools clinking around, along with a few curses that fell from his lips when he couldn’t get something just right. Every once and a while you couldn’t help but look up and stare at him for a few seconds, knowing the real reason you came out here to keep him company while he worked.

Over the past twelve, long years you had known Daryl, you still didn’t exactly know what you were to each other. Some would call the two of you friends, and though that may be true, you always knew there was something a little more there than what meets the eye. And you knew he felt it too, but neither of you were willing to admit that out loud. Too hardheaded, you supposed.

It always caught your attention when he left a few lingering touches on your skin, how he embraced you so dearly as if you were the most important person in the world, or even how he occasionally left a small kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but think he did all of these things for a reason, as if to ease you into something that he was always terrified of. And hell, maybe he was easing himself into it too.

You always knew he was never much of a romantic person, he never quite showed interest in anyone else the way he always did with you. Though when he finally did open his heart up to a woman named Leah all those many years ago, he got absolutely crushed in the process, leaving you heartbroken for him as you witnessed him go through it all. In the back of your mind, you hoped it would work out between the two of them because you knew he deserved someone that would treat him right. And though that person may not have been you, it didn’t matter, as long as he was happy. That’s all you had ever wanted for him.

However, you couldn’t help but notice ever since he got hurt, he had been slowly pulling away from you. Not in a way that was drastic, but you always seemed to notice the little things. He had completely stopped showing you affection whatsoever which was very out of character for him considering how close you were. All of the little things he used to do that would make you smile, he had brought to a halt without warning. The only thing that he really did now was just a small squeeze on your shoulder, and that’s only if you were lucky.

It frustrated you slightly, not because of his sudden wall he built up, but because subconsciously he thought you would hurt him the same way she did. He was now scared that the same thing would happen all over again. And it bothered you in a way he could never understand. Because after all you had been through together, he still didn’t seem to know you at all.

“Pass me that screwdriver, will ya?”

Your thoughts cut short when he started to speak, absentmindedly nodding your head as you turned towards the toolbox that was placed right next to you. You dug through them for a moment before you spotted the familiar red handle, grabbing it and stretching your arm out to hand it over to him.

He met your hand halfway as he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks.” he muttered with a small smile, the cigarette still dangling from his lips as he spoke.

You nodded before watching him for another moment, tilting your head to the side, “What’re you fixing up anyway?”

He shrugged as his eyes stayed down, “Just some repairs…nothin too fancy.” he spoke, his eyebrows furrowing as he worked.

“Ah.” you muttered with a small nod, going back to your book as you assumed he didn’t want to be bothered while he focused.

Though upon hearing your small mutter, the quietness taking over the space, Daryl subtly looked back up at you for a moment. He knew things had been different, way different than what the two of you were used to, and a part of him felt bad. Mostly because he knew it was his own fault. He had pushed you away when you had done nothing wrong, and he felt guilty for it every single day.

With that in mind, he cleared his throat as he took a puff from his cigarette, “Ya still want me to teach ya?” he asked, his tone growing softer than before.

You glanced up from your book again, seeing the small smile he had on his face as he reminded you of something you had requested a long time ago. You had rode on the back of his motorcycle many times before, but a part of you wanted to learn how to ride all by yourself. And he clearly remembered.

A smile wormed its way onto your face as well as you nodded, “Yeah…yeah I’d like that.”

He nodded in return as he went back to tuning up his bike, “Gotta start ya off slow though. Can’t have ya crashin into some tree the first time ya get on.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself with a roll of your eyes, “Right, we probably wouldn’t want that. But I think I’ll have a pretty good teacher…I’m not too worried.”

His heart swelled, though you couldn’t see, but that comment touched him in a way, “Yeah?” he asked as he looked back up at you.

You nodded again, “I trust you.”

You trusted him. That little comment meant more to him than you could even fathom. It meant that after all the things he had put you through, all the things he regretted, you still loved and trusted him just the same. He couldn’t help but pause for a long moment as he contemplated all of that, how only a few little words could mean the absolute world.

Though when he was lost in his own mind, the cigarette that he now held between his two fingers, slightly burned his skin as some hot ash fell from the tip. He let out a small noise as he shook it off, only now noticing how smokey the space was from how much he was chain smoking with you in the room. He knew you never cared, but a part of him still felt a little bad.

“Sorry.” he muttered as he raised his hand to fan the area a bit, “Didn’t realize how much I hotboxed ya.” he chuckled a little.

You laughed it off as well, waving him off, “You know I don’t mind. Actually I kinda like the smell.”

He raised his eyebrow a bit at the unexpected comment, looking down to the stick in his grasp as he thought about your words for a moment, “Ya never told me that.” he muttered.

You shrugged, “Never really came up I guess. But I don’t know, it’s always kind of been comforting.”

Daryl silently knew what that meant without you even having to explain. And that only made his chest fill with even more warmth than before, knowing he was the reason behind your words. He knew he meant a lot to you, but just hearing you say that his bad habit was somewhat of a comfort to you, it almost made his mindset shift.

You absentmindedly closed your book as you noticed he grew quiet, “You know any cool tricks?” you asked with a smirk.

He huffed quietly with a small smile, wordlessly taking another hit and holding it for a moment before effortlessly blowing it out in small spurts, the smoke forming into little o shapes in the air. You nodded to yourself as you watched him, “Solid.”

He chuckled a little, “Thank you, thank you.” he said as he bowed his head a bit.

Tilting your head a little, you thought to yourself about any more little tidbits he might have experienced, “Have you ever shotgunned it?” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Who’s askin?”

“Me.” you smiled sweetly.

He found himself chuckling again, shaking his head as a few memories came to mind, “Uh yeah…yeah I have.” he admitted a bit sheepishly, hoping you wouldn’t ask for any details.

A hum passed through your lips in response, opening your mouth to speak again, though he seemed to beat you to it, “You ever done anything like that?”

You scoffed, “Who’s asking?”

But he didn’t answer you. He only stared at you with the same small smile, however, there seemed to be something a little more behind his eyes. Though you couldn’t tell what that was, it intrigued you slightly. “No…” you answered honestly.

“Ya wanna try?”

It felt like your heart had dropped and settled into your stomach, swearing that you heard him wrong. “You’re not serious.”

But the smile on his face only grew a little, confirming to you just how serious he was as he nodded for you to come closer to him, “Come here.”

In all honesty he didn’t know what he was doing, and seeing the shock on your face only made the small pit in his stomach grow further, though he didn’t show it. He couldn’t really think in that moment at all about how this could be perceived, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you. Suddenly having a craving for it, having been without it for far too long.

A few beats of tense silence passed before you finally found the strength to stand to your feet, moving closer towards him as he stood tall as well. You tilted your head back a bit as you looked up at him, standing just a few inches away as you almost waited for him to instruct you on what to do next. Because in all honesty, you didn’t know what you were doing. 

His eyes traced over your face for a moment, almost wanting to ask you to stand a little bit closer to him, but ultimately he refrained. He knew he couldn’t be greedy with you, not when you were already so precious to him. He only held the cigarette out towards you, watching as your delicate hand took it from his grasp, all while never removing your gaze from his.

“Go on and take a long drag.” he instructed, his voice coming off in an anticipating whisper.

You only nodded your head in response, placing the end of it in between your lips as you slowly inhaled all the smoke it had to offer. Daryl couldn’t help but stare down at your lips the entire time, he studied you in the most mesmerizing way it almost caused you to choke on your own spit. Yet you still couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you grow a little frustrated all over again.

Your heart then fluttered when the smoke filled your lungs, taking the cigarette away from your mouth as you leaned up on your tiptoes to get closer to him. His hand instinctively came up to cradle your jaw as he pulled you even closer to his lips, feeling them barely brush against each other before the blissful feeling would soon wash over the two of you.

Exhaling the smoke, you blew the thick cloud right into his mouth, hearing a quiet groan leave him in response. It surprised you how good it felt, how your skin practically ignited with fire at his simple sound of enjoyment, it made your mind wander to a very dangerous place. His hand didn’t stray away from your face as he inhaled the smoke until he physically couldn’t anymore, the craving he felt only building to a new level as a part of him wanted to taste you. Just for a moment.

But the thought vanished, everything crashing down in an instant as he felt you pull away from his mouth, clearing your throat a bit. His eyes fluttered open to see you standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the two of you had never dared to cross this line before in the past.

“Well, I guess now I can cross that one off the bucket list.” you joked with a small, forced laugh.

“Do it again.”

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his as he spoke with zero hesitation in his tone, not even acknowledging that you made a comment at all. “What?” you asked quietly.

He took a small breath before speaking again, repeating the phrase, “Do it again.”

If you weren’t stunned before, you sure as hell were now as you stood almost frozen before him. To say it was one thing, but to repeat it with such confidence was another. He was serious. What started out as just a suggestion, now turned into something a lot more real.

But you found you didn’t protest. Because you wanted it too.

You then held the cigarette back up to your lips, inhaling it all over again as you were surprised you didn’t cough even once in the whole process. His eyes practically lit up as he saw you repeat the action, mentally preparing himself for the familiar feeling that would hit him all over again. But the thing he couldn’t get past was that he had never felt it before now. He only felt it with you. And it was very surreal.

Your perfect lips parted from the cigarette after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, moving back up to him to exhale the smoke into his mouth once more. The man breathed it in as if he needed it to stay alive, his hands coming up to your arms to hold you in place as if he was scared you would pull away again. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not even if you wanted to. The slightest brush of your lips made your breath hitch, but before you could even register what you were doing, you pressed your lips firmly to his. It almost didn’t feel real.

Daryl responded immediately, instantly bringing you into him as he wrapped his arms around you to hold you closer to his chest. Your hands went up to the sides of his face, tilting your head a bit so your noses wouldn’t clash so much, the kiss intensifying in just a split second. It was like all the years of the built up tension, the built up feelings, were now finally being unleashed after so long of waiting. You supposed before it was never the right time, but now, it couldn’t have felt more perfect.

His tongue moved to run along your lips almost teasingly, begging for an entrance as his hands gripped you even tighter. And you accepted his request, parting your lips for him and feeling his excitement grow as he didn’t take it for granted. His tongue swirled rapidly in your mouth, letting out a groan of pleasure as he tasted your sweetness. You shivered slightly at the low rumble you heard from him, something about it turning you on even more as you had never heard that sound from him before. It was like a switch flipped.

He continued to absolutely devour your mouth, his hands now running down the curves of your body in a slow and teasing manner, taking his time. You gasped softly as you felt your skin almost tingling under his touch, wanting to feel him everywhere. So without thinking, you quickly moved your hands down to his chest as you frantically began to try and tear his shirt off of him. Your fingers worked on each of the buttons, though you couldn’t see what you were doing, it all felt like it was happening so fast you almost had no time to prepare yourself.

But in a fit of panic, Daryl quickly pulled back from your mouth as the feeling of you trying to take off his shirt finally registered in his mind. He still remained close to you, but his sudden actions stopped you from yours, your hands freezing in place as it was clear you had pushed him too far. But your expression was filled with confusion and concern as you couldn’t understand why he looked almost scared to go any further.

He sighed as his eyes remained closed, almost ashamed to look at your face as he gently leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I…I can’t.” he whispered.

Your eyes seemed to widen as it clicked in your mind. He hadn’t done anything like this since Leah. Since he had been burned so badly by her. Since he was left shattered and heartbroken because of what she did to him. He opened up to her unlike anyone else, and she left him. A lump formed in your throat as the realization set in for you, seeing just how scared he was for this to potentially happen to him all over again.

“I can’t do this, I…I can’t lose you too.”

You sighed softly as you shook your head, your hands tilting his face up a little more, “Hey, look at me.” 

He simply shook his head, his eyes remaining closed, “Daryl, look at me.” you pleaded quietly.

When he did finally open his eyes, you could see he was starting to tear up, breaking your heart even further. Not only to see how much he was hurting, but how much he was truly terrified to lose you. Although in your mind, that wasn’t even a possibility.

“You couldn’t lose me, okay? Ever.” you whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You know me…I would never hurt you like that. Never.”

Upon hearing your voice reassure him so sweetly, his tears slowly slipped down his cheeks, watching as he swallowed thickly to try and pull himself together. But you didn’t want him to be embarrassed. You understood more than he probably realized. Which is why you were quick to wipe them away with your thumbs, leaning up to kiss the ones you had missed in hopes to offer him even more comfort.

He shuttered under your touch, quickly finding your lips with his own again as he kissed you deeply, holding the back of your head steady as his lips were filled with passion. You responded to his kiss with hesitance, not wanting to push him again as you didn’t have a clear response to how he was feeling. But once you felt him take your hands, guiding them back up to the buttons on his shirt, you had your answer.

In a flurry of hurried kisses and laughs, nearly tripping over one another as you tried to make it back inside the house, the two of you finally landed on the couch in the living room. Neither of you really cared about trying to make it all the way upstairs, almost as if it was a silent agreement that you were both impatient. You panted heavily as each piece of fabric was being discarded onto the floor faster than you could even realize, yet his hands moved across your skin with such ease and gentleness. The action alone told you a thousand things, and yet he didn’t need to say a word.

You quickly lowered yourself to your knees the second you saw the opportunity, getting in between his legs as he sat on the couch. His eyes widened at your actions, “Aye, you don’t gotta-”

But his words were cut off with a groan as you lowered your mouth to the tip of his dick, darting your tongue out to slowly swirl around and tease him the smallest bit. You knew you didn’t have to, but you wanted him to feel special for once, you wanted him to feel important and loved. And besides, you just couldn’t help yourself as your mouth practically watered at the sight. And the small noises he was letting out as you licked sensually along his shaft, was almost like a reward of some kind.

He threw his head back slightly as his hands went up to hold your hair back for you, feeling you teasingly lower your lips just a little at a time to take more of him in your mouth. It was almost like torture with how slow you were going, but it was also the most enjoyable torture he could even endure. His muscles twitched in anticipation and he was already beginning to sweat, clenching his teeth together all the while.

“Come on,” he muttered breathlessly, talking more to himself than he was to you.

But you still took it as a sign, seeing he had enough and finally lowered your mouth even more to take him further. A shaky moan left his parted lips at your actions, hissing slightly when he felt your teeth barely brushing against him as well, though it wasn’t enough to hurt. Just enough to get his attention. You then began slowly bobbing your head up and down the length of him, swirling your tongue and hollowing out your cheeks to really make him squirm. His hands tightened around your hair in response, another low groan echoing around the room as he basked in the state of pleasure you provided.

His breathing grew heavier and heavier by the second, growing even more sensitive to you as your pace began to gradually pick up, trying to take even more of him in your mouth. You couldn’t lie though, he was bigger than what you had experienced in the past, which made you almost nervous. But hearing what you were doing to him so far, it gave you the right motivation you needed to keep going.

“F-Fuck.” he breathed as the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, feeling your hands running up and down his thighs as you tried not to gag. Though he felt you struggle a bit, pulling your hair up slightly as if signaling you that you could ease up if you needed, but you didn’t. He felt too good in your mouth for you to want to stop.

Your head then moved a bit faster, taking him as deep as you could as you heard his whimpers and moans, not even trying to hold them back anymore. He wanted to make it known how good you were making him feel, just the sound of it was enough to make you wet, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Your spit soaked him completely, making it almost easier to take him entirely in your mouth as you felt him hit the back of your throat almost every time with each pass.

His breath hitched, “Oh shit,” he muttered as he tried to regulate his breathing, “Ya need to get up here…come on.” he almost pleaded.

And you didn’t need to be told twice, feeling how hard he was now he was nearly throbbing in your mouth, knowing he was close to falling apart. So your lips slowly parted from his aching dick, leaving a few lingering kisses behind before you slowly stood back up to your feet with a smile. Looking at his face now, he gazed at you as if you put all the stars in the sky, as if you painted him the most beautiful sunset you could’ve ever laid your eyes on. Or as if you had given him the best head of his life.

He watched as you wiped your mouth from the spit that nearly dribbled down your chin, quickly reaching forward to pull you in and crash his mouth against yours, licking your lips completely clean. You giggled in response to his eagerness, attempting to remove your thong as it was the last thing in the way, struggling to kick it off your ankles. Though the moment it hit the ground, you instantly moved forward and broke away from his mouth for only a moment, straddling his hips as you hovered on top of him.

The man nearly gawked at the sight of you, “God…” he muttered as if he couldn’t find the words. But you knew what he was getting at, knowing that his actions always spoke louder than his words ever could. And he only proved that further when he lowered his mouth to one of your breasts, sucking gently at your nipple to elicit a small whimper from you.

You could feel his lip curl up in response to your little noises, his hand coming up to gently massage the other with his rough fingers. The scratchiness of his calloused palms made it even better somehow, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine as you lowered yourself a little more onto him in response. He hummed at your actions, encouraging you to continue as his mouth worked wildly along your breast.

One of your hands then moved down to gently guide his tip towards you, running it up and down your slit to gather the wetness that pooled there. Your chest heaved up and down as you were almost overwhelmed with the tingles running through your entire body, nearly causing you to shake. 

Daryl’s mouth then dragged all across your skin, leaving a small trail of small hickies along your chest, groaning as you continued to play with him a little. Your other hand came up to run through his hair, tilting your head back a little as you dragged his dick up to circle around your pulsing clit. That seemed to cause you both to gasp, the slow and tormenting teasing beginning to be too much as Daryl quickly removed his mouth from you, his hands moving to your hips as if to position you in the most perfect way he could.

You followed his lead as your hands moved up to his shoulders to steady yourself, feeling him move his dick down to your entrance to align himself with you. And when you finally sunk down onto him, it felt like absolute heaven. A long, slow moan left your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hearing a harsh grunt escape him as he tried to refrain from pounding into you. He knew he needed to take his time, wanting to draw this out for as long as he could as if it were the first and last time. He hoped for more, he prayed for more, but he knew it was never guaranteed.

His forehead fell to rest in the middle of your chest as the two of you basked in the pure errotic experience, slowly managing to move your hips once you were ready. It was slow at first, gradually easing into it as you lowered yourself back down onto him again and again, your hands moving to grip the back of his hair. He groaned as he felt you tug a little at his roots, but in all honesty, he didn’t care. In fact, he liked it.

You moaned softly as you rocked your hips against his, pulling almost all the way off of him before he filled you completely once more. What you were feeling was almost indescribable, not having felt it with any other man you had been intimate with in your entire life. But with him, it felt so different, so incredibly good. Like his body was made for yours, fitting together perfectly like a puzzle piece you had been missing for far too long. And you weren’t the only one feeling like that, with him squirming beneath you, it was just a sign to not stop your movements anytime soon.

You bounced on him at a steady pace as you balanced yourself, feeling his hand travel down to rub slow circles along your clit with his thumb. You nearly cried out in response, your heart racing out of your chest, “Oh fuck…yes.” you breathed as his pace quickened.

“Yeah? Ya like that?” he asked as his face moved close to whisper in your ear, feeling his teeth gently bite down on your earlobe.

Your mouth fell open in response as you gasped, nodding your head frantically, “Yes…yes.” you moaned as you continued to rock against him, feeling your wetness drip all over him with how aroused you were.

“Mmm,” he hummed his mouth traveling down to kiss along your jawline, “You’re doin so good sweetheart.” he breathed as he held back a groan, “So good.”

His praise only spurred you on more, your fingers tugging a bit harder at his hair which caused him to groan, thrusting his hips up into you to match your pace. The sinful sounds that escaped you should never be heard by anyone, you couldn’t even believe you were the one making them. But he was the one to cause all those little reactions, adding something more to push you over the edge. And it was working too, you had felt it ever since you were down on your knees in front of him. The familiar tingling in your stomach was building to the point where it could spill over at any moment.

He panted heavily as he began to suck on the base of your neck, “I love you…God, I love you.” he whispered.

The words threw you off guard for a moment as your eyes widened, but you didn’t stop, nor were you scared to say it back. “I love you too.” you responded breathlessly.

That phrase had gone unspoken between the two of you for years, constantly avoiding saying it to each other for no reason at all. Perhaps it was stubbornness, or just the fear of the feelings not being reciprocated. But for whatever reason, this moment alone brought it out to the open. And it couldn’t have felt better.

Daryl thrusted deeper into you upon hearing your response, causing you to gasp as you felt the string finally snap inside you, releasing your orgasm as your muscles twitched. Feeling you squeezing him, he cursed as he quickly pulled himself out of you in one swift motion, cumming all over your stomach. You could’ve sworn your vision went black for a moment as you slowly came down from your blissful high, not a word being said for a few minutes at least as you both tried to regain yourselves. 

His head rested against your chest again, his lips beginning to leave a trail of kisses up your skin as your eyes were still hazy, leading them up to your neck where he nuzzled his face, pulling you close to his chest. You hummed in response, running your fingers through his hair as you thought to yourself for a moment, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Did you…really mean that?” you whispered hesitantly.

He pulled his face back to look at you, his head still too far up in the clouds that he clearly didn’t hear you. The big grin on his face was evidence of that. “Hm?”

You huffed with a small smile, “The whole…I love you thing…did you really mean it? Or was it like the heat of the moment.”

His brows furrowed in concern as he gently cupped the sides of your face, “Of course I meant it. I love you.” he repeated again, as if to make sure you really heard him.

You smiled in slight relief, “Did you mean it?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yes.” you said with a breathy laugh, “I just…wanted to make sure.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, darlin,” he said as he leaned in to rub his nose against yours lovingly, “I’ve always loved ya…my dumbass just took too long to admit it.”

You shook your head in response, “It’s okay. I understand why.”

He sighed quietly as he thought about how much he may have missed out on, how much went down the drain just because he was scared. Not only to have his heartbroken, but to potentially lose one of his best friends if you didn’t feel the same way he did. There was always a risk, but he let the fear consume him, and now he was kicking himself for it seeing how easy it was to be with you. He should’ve always known, and now he felt he was too late.

You quickly noticed his change in his expression and gently tilted his chin up so he’d look at you, “Hey…what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, “M’ just…m’ sorry.”

“For what?” you asked in confusion.

“For not actin on this years ago. For pushin ya away when I was hurtin just because I was nervous about it happenin all over again.” he stopped suddenly to gather his thoughts, “I just feel like I wasted so much time.” he finished with a whisper.

Your face was filled with worry about hearing him apologize for something that he had nothing to be sorry for. It hurt you seeing how much this was affecting him, knowing that the two of you should be happy that it finally happened. Not wanting to dwell on the past.

You leaned in to gently kiss his lips for a moment, pulling away enough to speak, “Well, it’s a good thing we got all the time in the world now.” you smiled.

His eyes slowly filled with a little more hope, “You mean…”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I love you.” 

He let out a small breath he was unaware he was holding, pulling you close to press multiple kisses all over your face, “I love you too.” he whispered, continuing to trace his lips wherever he could reach, igniting an infectious laugh from you.

It seemed his prayers were answered. 

~ Thanks for reading!

[maskedbyghost]

i had a dream about a Simon/ghost x fem!reader story based around the song Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush last night and I needed to type this out before I forgot lol

so its basically ghost having a nightmare that scared him deeply, causing him to wake up in a panic. the reader was already awake because ghost was breathing heavily before he woke up and the reader was worried for him. Once he wakes up, the reader could hold him closely (like cuddles) so that he knows he's safe with her. while the reader is comforting him, she could tell him that if she could swap places with him, she would (like in the song). And after he calms down, ghost could tell her (the reader) how much he loves her and appreciates her for making sure he's ok and he's all fluffy and genuine about it.

thank you for this idea, i hope you like it :)

it’s the quiet sounds that stir you first—the shallow, uneven breaths beside you, the way the bed shifts as simon thrashes just slightly. it’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, but every time, it feels like a piece of your heart twists and breaks for him.

"simon," you whisper, reaching over, brushing your fingers lightly against his arm. his skin is warm under your touch, but he’s tense, locked in whatever nightmare holds him.

when he wakes, it’s sudden, his eyes snap open, wild and disoriented, like he’s not sure where he is. his breath comes fast, shoulders heaving, and for a second, he looks right through you.

"baby," you say again, voice soft, pulling him back to the present. your fingers trail up to his cheek, grounding him, until his eyes find yours and something shifts. he’s here, with you, no longer lost in the dark.

"’m sorry," he murmurs, rubbing a hand over his face, as if he can scrub the fear away. he looks almost embarrassed, like he’s ashamed to let you see him this way. but you don’t let him pull back—you scoot closer, curling your arms around him, holding him tight.

"don’t apologize," you say gently, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady, frantic beat of his heart begin to slow. "i’m here. you don’t have to be strong right now. just…let me be here for you."

he shudders against you, his breaths still shaky, but he doesn’t pull away. his head tilts down, forehead pressing into the curve of your shoulder, like he’s holding onto you for dear life. his arms wrap around you, strongly, like he’s anchoring himself to you.

you stroke his back slowly, fingers tracing calming patterns. "if i could take this pain from you, i would," you whisper, voice breaking just a little. "if i could trade places, i’d do it in a heartbeat. i'd go through every nightmare if it meant you didn’t have to."

he stills, his grip tightening, and for a moment, you feel him tremble, the words sinking deep, breaking through some guarded part of him that no one else has ever touched. "you’d do that?" he murmurs, almost like he can’t believe it.

"every single time," you say, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek. "i’d do anything to keep you safe."

there’s a long silence, and when he finally speaks, his voice is raw, barely more than a whisper. "i don’t…i don’t know what i did to deserve you," he says, the words rough with honesty. "you’re always here, always looking after me, even when i’m a mess."

you reach up, cupping his face, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile. "you don’t have to deserve it, simon. i’m here because i care about you—because i love you."

something softens in his gaze, and for a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s trying to memorize this moment. his thumb strokes your cheek, and he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"i love you, too," he breathes, the words carrying all the weight he’s never said out loud. "i don’t say it enough. i don’t know if i can…but just…thank you. for being here, for being you."

he pulls you close, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. you hold him in silence, feeling his heartbeat slow, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. for tonight, you’re his shield, his safe place, and that’s more than enough.

---------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: 18

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: extremely soft

A/N: An epilogue to end our story, I'll reblog later with all of my thank yous. For now, this final chapter is dedicated to @mrsmando ❤ and her big giant heart, for whom this story wouldn't exist without.

Series Masterlist

-

FIVE YEARS LATER 

“Honey?”

Placing his keys on the table in the entryway, Joel tilts his head to the side and listens. Silence greets him instead, but it’s a warm one. Peaceful.  

Sunlight streams through the open windows in the living room, and he walks through the beams of soft light towards the back of the house, passing through a scene of domestic disarray: a blanket tossed over the couch, toys scattered on the living room floor, small shoes that he bartered for last week kicked off and tossed on the stairs. Bending down to scoop them up with a sigh, he carries them into the kitchen. Placing them on the table, he looks around for any sight of you. 

The backdoor ajar, he heads into the backyard. 

“Honey?”

“Yea?”

Calling to him from the middle of the garden, he spots you with a smile – right as a small body crashes through the bushes with a shriek. Running straight for him, Joel automatically holds his hands out to catch June, but she looks behind her and screams, dodging his reach instead. Another child comes through and then another; a game of tag that’s crossed borders between the houses. 

“Hey! Stop runnin’ through! Just go around em’!”

You stand from your place in the garden, picking your way carefully through the sprouting plants. Your face and shoulders come into view first, and then your stomach – the soft swell only just beginning to show. At the sight of it, he visibly softens and comes over to help you, lending you his hand. 

“You sound just like a cranky old man,” you tease, brushing the dirt from your knees. Looking up at him with a squint against the sun, you grin and mime shaking a fist. “Stay off my lawn!”

“Well I am an old man,” he says wryly, defending himself. “Besides, all I need is for a kid to get hurt bustin’ through those bushes like that.”

He looks over his shoulder and surveys the damage for a moment; the squall of children slightly muted from the front yard. Bringing his eyes back to you, he steps closer and reaches for your bump, splaying his touch over it. 

“How we feelin’ today?”

“Oh god,” you answer with a sigh. “Tired.” 

Letting your head drop forward, you rest it on his shoulder. His hands glide smoothly from your stomach to your hips, encouraging you to lean into him and you do, pressing your cheek against his chest. Warmth radiates through the material of his shirt, and you close your eyes and breathe him in. Sunshine, sweat, the faint smell of the stables and the horse he rode today while on patrol lingers in the fabric, and your body relaxes against his. 

“How was your day?” you murmur. 

“Good. Tommy n’ Maria wanna know if we can come over for dinner this week. Guess she’s been askin’ for that dessert you made last time, wants to know if you can bring it over again. What was it called?”

“Brown sugar pie.” You burrow even closer against him, and his arms slip around your back in an embrace. 

“That’s the one.”

“I think I have everything I need for it. I can do that.”

“I told him I would let em’ know tomorrow. Got patrol with him again at dawn.”

You look up at him with a pout. “So early again?”

He says nothing, bending to press his mouth to your forehead. 

“I miss you in bed when you leave so early in the morning.”

His kiss drops lower, catching your nose.  

“You know I like curling up next to you. You’re like a human furnace.”

The edge of his mouth lifts. “I know, I like it too. But duty calls and all that.”

Presenting your lips for a kiss, he grants a lingering, full press of his mouth to yours and then pulls back. 

“You need me to carry anything into the house?”

“I don’t need that kind of help just yet,” you reply. 

He puts his hands up in defense with a smirk, taking a step back. “Just askin’”.

You wave him away, turning back towards the garden and he turns to head into the house, calling over his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna take a shower. Is he sleepin’ inside?”

“Yes,” you call back. “Try to be quiet when you go in. He kept me up most of the night, so I know he’s tired too.”

Nodding, he catches the screen door before it smacks the frame behind him and quietly heads upstairs.  

The bedroom is scattered with the same lived-in mess that downstairs is: the quilt thrown back over rumpled sheets, his sweats on the floor, a scatter of items on the dresser. Reaching over his head, he tugs his shirt off in a smooth motion, and tosses it on the bed before sitting down with a soft groan, bending forward to unlace his boots. 

His bare back is littered with long ago healed scars, one of them pulling tight across his flank. Sitting up with a stretch, he rubs at it with his hand, the muscle underneath sore from so much time spent in the saddle. Heading into the bathroom, he tosses the rest of his clothes into the laundry basket and steps into the shower, letting the water beat down on his lower back.

Four years in, and he still lets out a sigh of appreciation every time. 

Done and dressed in fresh clothes, he pads around the bedroom in bare feet gathering the rest of the laundry. A mix of his and yours, a threadbare blankie that needs washing, a sleeper on the dresser. Tossing it all into the basket, he goes into June’s room to do the same. 

Picking up the small guitar she plays with while he practices on his own, he places it carefully against the corner of the wall and gathers the laundry she’s left at the foot of the bed. The room reflects the girl herself: purple walls, drawings taped up on every surface, a butterfly suncatcher that hangs in her window scattering rainbows over the floor. 

Hearing muted babbles from the next room over, Joel grabs a shirt off the floor before heading over to the closed door. Opening it, he’s greeted with a grin. 

“Hey big guy," he says lowly, setting the basket on the floor, peering over the side of the crib. Built by Joel shortly after you arrived in Jackson, he thumbs at the mending it needs on the corner, thinking about how it’ll need to be moved into the bedroom in about five months. 

Still puffy with sleep, the boy’s face resembles yours so much that Joel’s eyes crinkle with affection. “You ready to get up?”

One hand holding the basket and the other one dangling to let his son grasp it, they slowly navigate the stairs together, entering the kitchen just as June comes through the back door with you right behind her. 

“Someone woke up, I see,” you coo, scooping the toddler into your arms. 

“You done playin’ tag, June Bug?” Joel asks, squeezing her shoulder. 

“Yea. The other kids had to go home for lunch. Can you make me something to eat, Daddy?”

Routine takes over, the afternoon sliding into the evening, twilight descending around the house. The picture window in the front is a beacon of light; figures moving around inside. Dinner, playtime, bathtime. A freshly bathed June and Henry – Hank, for Hank Williams – in Joel’s lap on the couch while he reads them a book, the gentle clink of dishes being washed sounding from the kitchen.

After the kids are tucked in for the night, you find him on the porch. Pulling his flannel tight around your torso, you take a seat next to him and he wordlessly drapes his arm across your shoulders, tucking you close. Handing him a well worn mug with an owl on it, he hums with approval when he discovers the whiskey inside. 

“I saw the midwife today,” you say, spreading your fingers over your bump. “She said everything looks good so far, and gave me something for the heartburn.”

“Is it still real bad?” he asks, and you nod. 

“She says that it’s a sign it’s gonna be a girl,” you smile at him, shrugging. “I don’t remember having it too bad with June though, so who knows.”

Watching your fingers smooth your shirt over the small bump with a rub, the action moves in time with the slow rocking of the bench. Another sip of whiskey, and Joel thinks about how much has changed between then and now: a fleeting image of your younger face, a picture of a river, a cabin just beyond.

The comfortable silence between the two of you lets his mind continue to roam, the memories coming in flashes: the trek across the country, the simultaneous relief and on-edge anxiety he felt when the walls surrounding Jackson first came into view. A familiar voice calling through the fog, one he thought he’d never hear again. Favoring his left side due to a deep gash still healing from an encounter with raiders, warmth slipped from his eyes as he clutched his brother tight, unwilling to let go. 

The same brother he saw just this morning, and who he’ll see again tomorrow. 

“You’re so different than the guy I left all those years ago,” his brother said later on, and Joel had said nothing, just lacing his fingers with yours. 

He is different. 

The years have softened him around the edges, or maybe the kids have. Or maybe it’s you.  

Relaxing into him, his cheek comes to rest on the top of your head.

“You tired, honey?”

“Yea.” The word slips out, the edges rounded. “But keep rocking me?”

Fireflies spark and dance in the air, the wisps of a song caught on the wind from the neighbor playing their radio next door. Your profile is highlighted with the softened light from inside, your cheeks plump with health and happiness and enough food, the frown lines from ever present anxiety smoothed away years ago. He gently collects the soft hair at your temple with a soothing stroke and your eyes flutter shut. 

His boot pushing off the wooden floorboards of the porch, he rocks and presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, letting the gratefulness pass through him. 

The old life feels like a dream, or maybe this is the dream – with a wife sitting safe and sound beside him, on the porch of a home filled with his children. 

Everything possible because you imagined it possible. Everything here because of you.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, and you nod, not moving. 

The edge of his mouth lifting in a smile, he tucks you in closer and rocks.

THE END

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

looming parenthood. ( gregory house x reader )

gif belongs to me

The singular lamp lit his office when you entered while the minutes ticked by into the early hours of the morning. House looked up, his pinky finger against his lips as he reviewed the files, removing his glasses as he met your gaze.

It was difficult at times to know when to act as your boss, or your boyfriend during a case that was troubling you, especially now that you were pregnant. From your pacing, he deduced you needed both, and knew you needed assurance and comfort after a conflicting case.

"I didn't tell her." Your eyes burned from unshed tears as your body ran on caffeine, wearing a hole in the carpet of his office.

"In cases like this, it's difficult to know whether to listen to your head or your heart. Your brain said she's better off not knowing, and your heart is saying she needed to know. Following your heart is easy. Following your brain is tough." He removed his glasses as he spoke and you lowered your gaze to the ground, nodding softly.

House knew if he didn't act soon it would be one more sleepless night. "A case like this...it's hard to know what the right choice is." He began, "But you made the right one."

"Did I?" A tear fell down your cheek and he used the balls of his feet, pushing himself away from his desk.

"Come here." You crossed the room, settling on his lap and his arms brought you closer, your head resting on his shoulder as your tears fell. "A life filled with nightmares or a life filled with blissful ignorance. What would you prefer?"

"What's the context?" You spoke up a few moments later, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckled.

"You know what the context is." His lips pressed against your forehead and you closed your eyes as he lingered, seeking the comfort he offered.

Greg rested his cheek against your hair, as your tears fell silently on his shirt. There were many sides to Gregory House, but this was one side he reserved purely for your eyes only. And it only made you question your future further. "I'd make a horrible mother."

"Now, you're just babbling nonsense."

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, "What chance would our child have?"

Silence filled the office as your tears fell and you wiped them on your lab coat, believing this was one fact he could not argue against, but his tone held absolution when he finally spoke, "They're the luckiest kid in the world and they don't even know it."

"They're not even ten weeks old and their mother would rearrange the stars if it made them happy." He added moments later, causing you to lift your head to meet his gaze. "You're already a mother. You have been for a long time now. A mother without a baby. You should spend less time worrying about being a mother and focusing more on the father."

You knew his doubts about fatherhood and saw the fear in his eyes when you broke the news one night in his apartment. But you knew he would be a great father. Even if he didn't believe it. He knew more about the harsh reality of the world you lived in than you did, and he was wiser, if more cynical, than anyone you knew, but you knew there was plenty of love left inside of him - all the proof shown from loving you when he swore off relationships that didn't involve prostitutes.

You placed a hand on his cheek, smiling softly when his eyes closed as your thumb swept across his cheekbone. Your lips met his and the noise outside the office drifted away. His hand rose to your neck, another bringing your waist closer to his body as the kiss deepened.

The future was uncertain. A case like this left you questioning everything you thought you knew and he was the only one who gave you the one thing you reminded him of when he believed he had forgotten it long ago - hope. As long as you were together, you always sought a brighter future, even when the scars of the past seemed like they happened yesterday.

And as you looked down at his hand that rested on your fourteen-week pregnancy bump, you knew that your child would be given everything you both craved and would never question the love or dedication of their parents. And a case like this reminded you of how lucky you were to have Gregory House by your side, to promise that the grass was greener on the other side - even if he was a well-known sceptic.

As his lips pressed against your forehead, you were certain of one thing. As long as you had him by your side, you could survive anything.

[mandarinmoons]

lemme set the scene for u -

rossi’s wedding (please please can Derek be there 🥺🙏 idc if it’s the wrong time just please let him be there my hot choco)

anyways, shy little miss y/n is dating our fav boy genius and it’s about time to introduce her to the team, and when better to do it then when they’re all guaranteed to be in the same room together!

the team is very welcoming but also can be a bit touchy or overwhelming for reader cuz maybe she’s like spencer with the touching

uh if you didn’t think this was that boring and wanna do it you can change up literally whatever 😭 really just wanna see shy & awkward reader meet the team and spencer just stand there with an awkward smile supporting his gf as she fumbles over her greetings cuz uh that’s me

You smoothed down your dress as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Dresses aren’t something you usually wore, but duty called and you pulled out your emergency fancy clothes from the back of your closet, something you never thought you’d have to do for a long while. But here you were, going to a wedding with your boyfriend and meeting all of his teammates, also his friends, for the first time. However, this was more of like a two in one deal. The only family Spencer had in his life was his mother and his team was like a second family to him, which made this whole ordeal more unnerving.

“Hey, are you ready to- woah…”

Turning around you saw Spencer’s eyes wide as saucers as he took in your appearance. A beautiful floral dress hugged you at just the right places and showed off your figure, a sight which was clearly adored by your genius boyfriend.

Walking over to him, you rested your hand on his cheek and tapped his chin, “Close your mouth or else you’ll catch flies.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as a chuckle left your lips and it was soon muffled by Spencer’s lips finding your own, pressing a light kiss to them.

Pulling back, Spencer’s eyes were still on you, admiring your beauty while your gaze lingered to the side and a light sigh leaving your mouth.

“I’m nervous…”

“I know, but you’ll love everyone, trust me.”

“You haven’t been wrong yet, so.”

Spencer chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “And that day will never come.”

The drive to the venue was nerve wracking. Spencer gave background information on what everyone on the team was like as well as telling some of the funniest memories he’s had with each member. Hearing all the tales did help to ease some of the tension, but it would be a miracle if you’d be able to remember even the tiniest detail by the time you’d set foot in the chapel. Spencer may have an eidetic memory, but you’d be lucky to remember what you had for breakfast this morning.

Arriving at the destination, your shaky legs walked up the steps and Spencer’s hand rested on your waist to try and steady you.

The moment you walked through the door you heard someone gasp and the sound of heels running toward you filled your ears.

“You must be Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you!” a blonde woman you guess to be Penelope Garcia immediately comes over to introduce herself and you feel yourself freeze when she takes you in for a hug. You didn’t mind hugging, but when it came to someone you had just met 5 seconds ago, it was a bit much.

Spencer pulled Penelope off of you gently and told her you were a bit shy when it came to meeting new people and Penelope being the saint that she was, apologized right away and said she’d let you eat her piece of cake as a peace token.

Soon enough the rest of the team took notice of the woman Spencer brought along with him and with their interests peaked, made their way over to the both of you to see the new love birds.

Your breathing became a bit erratic as your space was filled with so many new faces that you didn’t know where to start and who to answer first. You didn’t mind meeting new people at all, but when there’s multiple questions coming from every corner you could think of, your brain shut down and your mouth dried up.

Spencer took notice of your change of behavior and excused both of you from everyone while he led you to the side.

“Are you okay?” Spencer’s hand rested on your cheek while his other hand was on your waist, his thumb gently rubbing over the fabric of your dress.

“Yeah, there’s just… so many people.”

Spencer nodded and brought you in closer as you rested your head on his shoulder and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“How about you meet everyone one by one? Have some to talk to everyone a little so it’s not so daunting?”

“That works yeah.”

Spencer nodded and made his way back to the team with you by his side, taking a hold of his hand as if you were a child holding onto their parent’s arm on the first day of kindergarten.

Making your way back to everyone, you could see the concern written over their faces. You didn’t want them to think of you as this fragile girl who wasn’t able to be alone without her boyfriend and you hoped to God that they wouldn’t make fun of your behavior.

Later on as the ceremony was done and everyone had a blast dancing and chatting away, you managed to ground yourself and now here you were, chatting to the girls of The BAU about anything and everything. What had only been a few hours felt like you had known these girls for a lifetime.

The evening also included Derek and Luke taking turns dancing with you, Rossi sharing his famous pasta recipe and the highlight of the night being Spencer pulling you to the dance floor and trying his best to sweep you off of your feet with his dance moves. Knowing that he has two left feet when it came to dancing, it wasn’t hard to do.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile and laugh so much.”

“I guess your team is really good at bringing that out.”

“They really are.”

Looking to the side, you saw some of the members looking over at you and Spencer as you two slowly danced together and a chuckle fell from your lips as you heard Derek call out “Show her what you can do, pretty boy!”

Locking eyes with each other, you squealed as in one swift movement, Spencer dipped you and a second later his lips were on yours and from the side you heard everyone cheer.

“You really do have some moves, Doctor Reid.”

“You haven’t seen nothing yet.”

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[hhghgt]

After work outing

Drunk Buck and Eddie found themselves alone after the team left in the familiar glow of their favorite bar, eddie leaning against the counter spinning his beer bottle lazily in his hand, that cocky grin plastered on his face. He glanced at Buck, who was watching him with a smirk, clearly already in the mood to give him a hard time.

“You know,” Eddie started, leaning in a bit, voice dripping with teasing, “the last time you were here this drunk, you kissed Lucy.”

Buck groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I knew you were gonna bring that up.”

Eddie just smirked. “What? I wasn’t gonna let it slide. It’s not every day I see you trip over yourself like that.” He took a sip of his beer, eyes locked on Buck’s. “Though, to be fair, it’s probably because I wasn’t there to stop you.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, his grin slowly creeping back. “Oh, so now it’s my fault because you weren’t babysitting me?”

“Not babysitting,” Eddie shot back with a smirk. “Just keeping you from making dumb decisions. Clearly, when I’m not around, things get messy.”

Buck chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “You saying I wouldn’t have kissed her if you were there?”

Eddie didn’t miss a beat. “Probably. I wouldn’t have let you embarrass yourself like that.”

Buck tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “You think you can control me that much, Diaz?”

Eddie shrugged, his smirk widening. “I think I don’t have to try. You listen to me whether you admit it or not.”

Buck snorted. “You’re full of it.”

Eddie leaned in, just a fraction, his voice dropping low, teasing but layered with something heavier. “Am I? Because the way I see it, when I’m not around, you make some pretty questionable choices.”

Buck’s eyes lingered on Eddie for a beat too long, tension crackling between them. “Yeah?” His voice was quieter now, almost serious. “Maybe I made those choices because you weren’t there.”

Eddie blinked, caught off guard by the shift in Buck’s tone, but he recovered quickly, leaning back with a half-smile. “Is that right?”

Buck shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “Could be. Who knows what would've happened if you were?”

Eddie let out a low chuckle. “You think I could’ve stopped you from making out with Lucy?”

Buck leaned in again, this time just close enough that Eddie could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Maybe. Or maybe I would’ve made a different choice.”

Eddie’s heart skipped, but he kept his voice steady, his smirk still in place. “What, you saying you’d have kissed me instead?”

The air between them felt charged, every word carrying weight now. Buck didn’t flinch, just met Eddie’s gaze head-on. “Maybe. Maybe that’s what I should’ve done.”

Eddie stared at him for a long moment, his pulse racing, but he forced a chuckle. “Careful, Buck. You don’t want to start something you can’t finish.”

Buck’s grin widened, though his eyes stayed locked on Eddie’s, intense and challenging. “Who says I wouldn’t finish it?”

For a moment, everything else in the bar faded away—the noise, the people, the lights. It was just the two of them, caught in the tension they’d been dancing around for longer than either of them wanted to admit.

Eddie raised his bottle, taking a slow sip, eyes never leaving Buck’s. “Good thing I’m here now, then. Wouldn’t want you making any more reckless decisions.”

Buck’s smile softened just a bit, the playful glint still in his eyes, but something more lingering beneath it. “Yeah, wouldn’t want that.”

Without saying a word, Eddie while keeping the eye contact put his beer on the counter and leaned in gripping Buck’s jacket., closing the last inch of space between them. His lips brushed Buck’s, tentative at first, almost testing, but the moment they connected, everything else fell away. Buck responded immediately, leaning into the kiss with a hunger that caught Eddie off guard, his hand sliding up to the back of Eddie’s neck to pull him closer.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Buck chuckled softly, his voice hoarse whispering in Eddie’s ear. "Well… that wasn’t a bad decision."

Eddie huffed out a laugh, his heart still racing. "No, it wasn’t."

They stayed like that for a moment, the noise of the bar returning as the world outside them came back into focus. Buck pulled back just enough to meet Eddie’s eyes, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Guess I’ll need you around to keep me in check from now on.”

Eddie smirked, his fingers still gripping Buck’s jacket. “Yeah, you just might.”

[shirefantasies]

Hello, may I please request fem reader x Elrond? With reader that is quite avoidant when it comes to touch, but accepts hugs and kisses from Elrond? I hope it is okay 👉👈 thank you so much in advance, have a wonderful day 💕💕💕💕

Yes, sorry this took so long but here we are! Hope you enjoy how this came to me, a one-shot featuring a third party POV as well as ‘yours’ 😊

The Steel Lady of Imladris- Elrond x F!Elf!Reader

It was known to the surrounding lands that in the Last Homely House one might be surprised by whom they meet; the lord of the land, after all, had a lady by his side, one whose presence was said to carry the chill of a harsh wind with her presence. Resolute as her home's walls, she cut quite the contrast to the hearths always said to be awaiting visitors of the fair valley. Perhaps she was even a witch like the one dwelling in the woods of Lórien.

Such were the rumors swirling in the mind of Rivendell's dwarven visitor, called there as he was to offer his people's wise council. Ha! What was it that had those pointy-ears finally asking for their help Gimli did not know, but happy was he to attend with his father at his side.

Riding in with his kin, he took in sailing white arches and a very well-constructed bridge, hearing his father mutter all the while about how nothing had changed. He had stopped there once before some sixty years ago, after all, during the dragon incident.

A whole gaggle of elves awaited there, some armored but most just decked out in their pretty finery, one clad in white emerging from the center with a deep blue-clad figure upon his arm. Long, elaborately twisted strands of dark hair hung onto his raiment and a circlet of silver crossed his forehead. Likewise, the woman at his side had what hair she could done with equal finesse, a matching headpiece, and a dress more closely tailored than the lord's robes. Elrond and his consort, the so-called Steel Lady of Imladris.

Sure enough, fair as you were your face was resolute as you stepped forward, practical even as you curtsied, surrendering the smallest of smiles. Ready for a fight as he was, Gimli wasn’t sure he’d want to take you on. At least, not without the proper head start and all.

You flinched as Gloin clapped a hand to your back, stepping forward in utter avoidance of his touch. Disrespectful though it may have seemed, you equally avoided one of your elven fellows’ advances. Gimli shook his head. Cold as they came.

~

Alright, fine, maybe this wing of the place was a little confusing. He still could figure it out for himself. One more corridor and it would be golden-

“Trouble yourself not, My Lady.”

Tilting his head, Gimli took a few steps forward, was availed the sight of Lord Elrond…holding you at the elbows, pulling you closer? The sound of… you giggling?

He’d turned away, but that sound along had Gimli swiveling around the corner again. Your head tilted and leaned onto the dark-haired elf’s shoulder. A smile cut further across your face as his lips fell to the crown of your head.

“You needn’t spend any more time in the crowds than you must. It was simply right to have you at my side for greetings.”

“I like being at your side, though,” you whispered, peeling your head from Elrond’s chest to kiss him once, twice, and far more lingering.

All right, that was enough. Off to bed. Gimli turned, trying the other fork in the hall with a faint smile playing upon his lips. Steel Lady indeed.

~

“Greetings, Madam.”

Frowning slightly, you turned to see if your eyes had deceived you; they had not- one of the visiting dwarves removed his helmet in your presence, giving you a jolly little bow.

Generally you were…unsuccessful, shall you say… with guests. Aversion to touch had bloomed from the harsh experiences of your past life, making trust a challenge. No bearing upon their race or character, but outsiders posed a threat. Disrupting routines, bringing louder, brasher customs. Viewing you as either held in thrall to their impositions or else some myth beyond their metaphorical touch.

Elrond was the anchor in your vast sea of anxiety, the only one who saw through story, perceived emotion seemingly unexpressed. Displayed hope and kindness abundant as the cleanest of springs.

But now stood a dwarf of all people fixing you with earnest hazel eyes. Understanding. What should you do?

A smile shook its way to your lips. “Good morning,” you chose a customary greeting. Standard, safe.

“Aye,” the dwarf nodded, “it is, isn’t it? Well, I know you elves like to keep time, so I'll be off to breakfast before there is none. Tell me your favorite and I will save you some if I can."

Stranger or not, you were sure anyone could have read the shock upon your face. Shaking it quickly aside, you kept your face neutral as you named it and gave a thanks. As the dwarf went on his way, he bid you his final farewell by your title, yes, but also your name. They didn't usually use your name.

Light footsteps rang out behind you, barely perceptible even by your sensitive ears. "And what was that about, hm?" Elrond.

Tension melted from your shoulders as the curious little quirk of your lips burst into a wide smile. Turning on your heels, you slid your arms about your husband's waist, relaxing when his hand caressed the top of your head.

"The dwarf," you answered, "he was so kind. Not in that rough way so often seen, but...genuine. Caring. Like he wanted to see me smile. Could someone have challenged him?"

You feel your husband's head shake. "How many times must I remind you," he teased, "of the light that lies in your eyes? That which reaches deepest into the heart. Surely he felt no challenge than that. Indeed, I would say he simply sees you as I do."

Heart thumping, you loosened your grip on Elrond to meet his lips in a loving kiss, safe in the warmth of his words and his hold upon you. Bit by bit he encouraged you to be brave, never leaving you adrift for long, you reflected as he took your hand, bidding you lead the way to the greater halls at your ready.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[zweigsangel]

pairing: college!patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: patrick, your best friend (not for long) wants to teach you how to kiss.

warnings: fluff, kissing.

being patrick's best friend wasn't always easy. you were complete opposites in so many ways. he was the kind of guy who always had a line of girls waiting for his attention, effortlessly charming and self-assured. patrick was simply experienced. and then there was you, the shy girl who hadn't even had her first kiss yet.

patrick teased you playfully about this very often. and you defended yourself by saying, "i'm just waiting for the right person. there's nothing wrong with that,” making him roll his eyes, as if he couldn't understand your point of view.

"what if i taught you?" he asked one day, sitting on the edge of your bed. he watched your back as you sat at your desk, engrossed in your studies. you turned your head towards patrick, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "what?" the light from the desk lamp cast a soft glow on your face, highlighting your puzzled expression. a playful smile tugged at the corners of patrick’s lips.

“i mean, why don’t i teach you how to kiss?” he shrugged nonchalantly, resting his hands on his knees. he watched as your eyes widened slightly in surprise and your cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink. your mouth parted slightly, as if searching for a response, and you repeated, “what?” in a soft, almost breathless tone.

patrick tilted his head slightly. “what’s wrong with it? it would be good for you, wouldn’t it?” you remained silent for a moment, considering his casual demeanor. patrick seemed completely at ease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to kiss your best friend. but then again, it was patrick—one could expect nothing less. almost involuntarily, you found yourself nodding slowly. “okay.”. patrick's eyes lit up. “yeah?” “yeah.”

he placed a hand on the bed, patting the space next to him. you stood up and moved to sit beside him, crossing your legs. you bit your lip, feeling the nervousness that had settled in. and he noticed, because he slowly raised a hand to your face, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. the touch was gentle, sending a shiver down your spine. his thumb lingered for a moment, caressing your cheek. he leaned in, and you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. "relax," he said softly, and you could only nod in response.

as your lips met, it was soft. you hesitated for a moment, then closed your eyes, letting the sensations wash over you. his lips moved slowly, gently guiding yours. you tried to mirror his movements, your lips moving tentatively against his. his hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss.

you suddenly felt his tongue lightly graze your lower lip, asking for permission. you parted your lips, inviting him in, his tongue gently caressing yours.

time seemed to stand still, each second stretching into an eternity of sensation. the gentle pressure of his lips and the way he teased your bottom lip with his teeth sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

a soft moan escaped your lips, which patrick responded to with a quiet groan. his other hand slid down your back, pulling you even closer, your bodies fitting together as if you two had been made for this moment.

patrick usually wasn’t like this with girls. he was known for his tough and decisive nature, his movements quick and confident. but with you, it was different. seeing you being so small and timid, his approach softened. his movements were sweet and careful. his lips were patient and skillful, guiding you through the kiss, showing you the beauty of the moment.

when you parted, after a while, you were panting lightly. he rested his forehead against yours and opened his eyes. the sight before him was adorable. he smirked, taking in the view of your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, that were tingling from the experience. “you taste good,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. you giggled softly, a shy smile creeping on your reddened lips. “thanks.”

standing up, you walked back to your desk. as you turned your back to patrick, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, fingers playing with your pen as you tried to refocus on your studies.

patrick kept watching you, and in that moment, he was certain of one thing: this wouldn’t be the last time he tasted your lips.

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate pt 5

Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns everything is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings - implied cheating, implied sex pollen use, intense make-out session, miscommunication, love triangle trope getting messy

A/N - forgive me, but it serves a purpose.

Series Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Azriel couldn't take it anymore.

Kaylee and Lucien giggling softly as they ran through the woods, through the halls, through the gardens.

Rhys had banned the red headed male from all the Archeron sisters, minus his Kaylee. Lucien for some fucking reason was given access to Kaylee at all times.

And it was infuriating. Azriel hid behind the mask he had well as he held Elain's hand, listening to her cry and whisper her sorrows of lost love, lost opportunity, of how she'd always be alone.

“You will never be alone, Elain,” he countered softly. “You have your sisters, us, you will make friends.” Azriel didn't mention her mate. He knew it was too sore of a topic, and one she and Nesta demanded to avoid like a plague.

“And will I always have you?” The question seemed innocent to Azriel. The male too blinded by his love for the blonde's younger sister to realize what she was asking, what she was inferring.

“Of course, Elain,” the answer was a placement of a nail. One he'd soon have to stop for going into a coffin. “We will always be friends.”

-

Nights were Azriel's favorite. Kaylee was currently straddling his lap, their chests pressed together, his fingers laced in her silky hair as he allowed her to led their movements.

Her small hands ran up his arms, over his shoulders, then down to his hare chest, resting there as she kissed him deeply. His own hands began to roam. Fingertips dancing down the back of her neck, down her exposed upper back, bunching his shirt before pulling back from her and raising a brow.

Kaylee nodded at the silent question, allowing him to pull the top off and leave her upper half bare to him. “So beautiful, baby,” he trailed the back of his hand between her breasts, admiring her soft skin, her perky tits, the way goosebumps erupted across her. “I am the luckiest male.”

“More kisses,” her voice was breathless. “Now.” He started kissing her again, pulling her as close to him as possible to feel her skin to skin. He sent every ounce of love and longing down their bound, and Kaylee responded in kind, letting him feel how deeply she missed him. How it was like a dull ache in a lingering sore muscle.

While there was nothing innocent about the way she had crawled to him on hands and knees to straddle him, this kiss was clearly about needing connection, about needing to feel him, and they both poured every slipped away and lost moment of passion into it before parting to breathe.

Azriel rested his forehead on hers, large hands resting on the curves of her hips.

“I'm proud of you,” he stated evenly watching as her eyes fluttered shut and shoulders sank. “You are truly doing everything you can to make the best of this situation and I could not be more proud to call you my mate.”

Kaylee kissed him quickly again, then placed her head between his neck and shoulder. “Sing to me?”

“Forever,” he whispered back.

Everyone almost froze as Nesta and Elain came down for breakfast. Elain seemed frozen in her spot at the doorway as well. Azriel had Rhysand to his right as they discussed a small mission Azriel would be going on, and Kaylee was to his left. The scent of their bond lingering heavily in the air. Lucien was across from Kaylee, feyre to his right and Cassian to his left. The two of them took the spots by Mor and Amren. Not speaking as they did and began to eat.

Kaylee was too blind in her happiness to notice the way Elain seemed to stab and cut things while staring aggressively in her direction, nor did she notice the disapproval in Nesta's face as Azriel leaned down to kiss Kaylee's nose.

“What's that smell,” Nesta finally asked. Her piercing silver eyes hitting Kaylee and Azriel.

“That,” Rhysand spoke for them, his beast urging him to protect Kaylee from a viper, “is the scent mates give off when they're content and happy emotionally. They smell like nighttime and toasted sugar. Feyre and I smell like sea salt and lilac. You will get used to it.” Rhysand allowed his beast to comfort a now embarrassed and uncomfortable Kaylee. Watching as the youngest sister recoiled into herself.

Feyre gave her a look of sympathy, as did Lucien, who stood and walked around the table, looking at Azriel before offering Kaylee his hand. “Let's go find you another animal to bond to, my dear.” Her and Lucien left, after Azriel kissed her palm, a silent promise to find her before he departed for a few days.

Amren shot Rhys a look the second Elain moved to take Kaylee's seat, now clinging to Azriel and Nesta gave her own plate a smug look. He then shared one with Cassian, the both of them watching as Elain attempted to flirt with Azriel. I think I may have made a mistake. Rhysand admitted to Feyre through their link. We may need to start weening her off of time with Azriel.

Feyre sent a wave of confirmation. Preferably before something stupid happens.

-

Lucien and Kaylee returned late that night. The Autumn male was carrying the youngest sister, releasing her instantly to Rhysand when asked. “She did great. She made a new friend. I need to figure out what the fuck it was, though.”

Cassian's brows instantly reached his hairline. “What do you mean?”

Lucien shrugged leaning against the wall as Feyre brought him wine. “I think it was a Thunderbird. White and gold, feathered, large, sun seemed to bend and break as it flew. It rained on Kaylee, just Kaylee as it hovered above her.” Him and Rhys held eye contact. “This would be her third beast of legend, would it not?”

Rhys nodded. “She has not linked with the fire drake yet. But she did link to the unicorn. Hence why she's able to use more magic lately. It will be interesting to see what ability a Thunderbird would share.”

“She sensed a rock slide,” Lucien answered. “It shared with her the ability to sense danger. The Stag gave her command of the forest, the hawk gave her eyesight, the only one I'm confused about is the otter.”

Feyre giggled beside them. “You mean the one that scales the House and climbs into her and Azriel's bed every night?”

All three heads turned towards the High Lady. “There's a what in my house every night?”

“So, what did it offer her?”

Lucien answered the question softly. “Comfort. It offered her comfort. She's been… upset and lonely lately,” he turned to Cassian. “I think you and can empathize slightly.”

The general nodded, tucking a piece of Kaylee's long sandy blonde hair behind her ear. “Will she be ready for the High Lord's meeting? Rhysand's beast called for her first, they haven't fully linked yet, but Rhysand's beast is constantly calling for her. She needs to be able to block out all of them. For her safety.”

Lucien shrugged. “I don't know. I do know everything she links to is coming with a price,” he turned to Feyre. “Can you feel her in you?”

The High Lady's brow knit, silent confusion all over her face. “No?”

Lucien just nodded and chuckled lightly, twisting a dagger in his hands. “Well, she can feel you. How is Elain?”

Rhys shrugged. “Refuses to come out for anyone but Azriel. Refuses to eat for anyone but Azriel. Slowly becoming obsessed with Azriel,” the confession hung in the air. “And Nesta is encouring it because “fuck the mating bond and fuck Kaylee,” lovely little snake ypu find yourself attached to, brother.”

Cassian kicked off the wall. “We need separate them before he does something he will regret for the rest of his life, or before that one,” he inclined his head to Lucien, “says fuck it. And in turn, that one,” his head went to Kaylee this time, “decides to say fuck it too.”

Lucien didn't tell them Kaylee was already there. That he was getting there.

A week later -

Azriel's hands shook as he left Elain's room. Deep unstable breaths trying to stabilize evenly as he stared at his hands.

A throat cleared down the hall and Lucien leaned against a doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the calves. No words had to be said between the two. No words could be said between the two. The scent of it lingered in the air, on him, and Lucien had felt every damned second through the bond.

“It's not what it looks like, Lucien, I swear.”

The Red head clicked his tongue. “You're leaving my mate's room at 3am and I can smell sex on you. Don't fucking play me like a fool, Azriel.”

Lucien left him there alone. Not allowing Azriel to explain what had happened. How it had happened. He stalked to his room, opening the door quietly to see a sleeping Kaylee.

He reached out to touch her, but stopped, instantly going to the bathroom and stripping himself of his leathers for the first time in several days. He scrubbed his skin raw, feeling the last bit of whatever the fuck Elain had managed to get a hold of leaving his system. It hadn't gone further than her offering him a late night drink to celebrate his return home. It hadn't gone further than Elain kissing him before that thing living deep inside of him roared out for Kaylee and Kaylee only, trying with desperate claws and warnings to get him away.

He hadn't even touched Elain. Not when she stripped herself bare for him. Not when she began to touch herself. Not when she came loudly, possibly alerting every awake ear to the sound of his name leaving her throat in pleasure.

He got out of the tub, drying himself off instantly and pulling on sweatpants before getting into bed behind Kaylee and pulling her close to him. He scented himself on her neck, mixing his cedar and chilled night air with Kaylee's soft scent of toasted sugar and snowfall.

She whispered his name in her sleep, one of her small hands finding his and lacing their fingers together.

This was the calm before the storm, Azriel knew this. Lucien had heard. Kaylee would possibly scent it in the morning. Elain would tell Nesta. And Mother help him if Nesta knew before Kaylee.

Rhys and Azriel were absent from breakfast. Then Cassian. The shadowsinger was currently sitting next to Rhysand in his office telling and showing him everything while Cassian searched Elain's room and then Nesta's, finally finding a vial clearly supplied by the House of Wind.

Cassian tossed it to Rhys before comforting Azriel, knowing damn well where this was going. How it would end. “You have to tell Kaylee and explain what actually happened before Nesta, Elain, or Lucien does.” Cassian spoke softly, forcing Azriel to look at him. “I will handle my mate. You need to protect yours.”

Azriel nodded. “Where did she get that, though?”

Rhys looked up at the ceiling. Twin shadowy figures appeared, looking down in guilt. “We gave it Nesta,” Nuala refused to look at Azriel, her eyes locked on the ground. “She told us she was going to use it to experiment with herself. She had read about it in one of her… novels,” the males all snorted at the amusing choice of words. “Had we known she would try to use it on Azriel and Elain, we would have never supplied it.”

Cerridwen had not spoken, her lower lip trembling. Azriel moved to her instantly. “It's not your fault. You two can repay me by befriending Elain, get her some hobbies. I need space from her and Nesta, and you two are wonderful company.” The twins nodded, both throwing themselves into Azriel's arms. “I am not angry with you two. I'm mad at myself for allowing it to get as far as it did.”

The three males walked down the stairs to a silent breakfast. Nesta was standing, smirking down at Kaylee who just sat still as a ghost. Feyre's eyes were wide. Mor was shaking her head as if something didn't make sense. Amren was glaring to Elain. And Lucien, Lucien was silent rage. He stood slamming his hands down and left the room, shoving the other three males before going to his own space.

“Kaylee,” Feyre said softly. “Do you want Rhys to take you to the Riverhouse?”

Then the three of them knew. They knew Nesta had told Kaylee, and the silence and stillness in the youngest sister was shock.

“No,” Kaylee whispered. “I'm leaving with Lucien. I'll go help him find the lost queen.” Kaylee stood on shaking legs, looking down as she walked away. Azriel followed her up the stairs, grabbing her in the hallway.

“Please let me explain what happened.”

Kaylee shook her head.

Lucien appeared in the hall, a bag packed and slung over his shoulder. “What the fuck is there to explain, Azriel. Pretty sure Nesta painted a pretty visual picture for all of us.”

Azriel held eye contact with Kaylee only. “Let me explain, please. Come to our room and talk to me.” Kaylee tried to pull her arm away, noticing now the second bag Lucien held in his hands. Her bag.

Azriel's grip in her tightened, and Lucien scoffed, “I watched you leave her room at 3am before heading into Kaylee's. Nesta and I heard everything.”

“Let me explain.”

Kaylee finally let go, letting the anger, frustration, and annoyance finally peak. Her voice hardly seemed her own. “You don't need to fucking explain. I was a pretty stepping stool to get to my beautiful sister. You used me.” She ripped her arm from Azriel going to Lucien's side. “Take me with you.” He handed Kaylee the bag, his amber and gold eyes locking Azriel in place. “Do not follow us,” she commanded his beast, not him. “I'll come back when I'm ready.”

The second the door to the entry way shut and Lucien's spell cleaving was felt long enough for the two to winnow, Azriel lost it.

He destroyed his room. He destroyed the bathroom. He destroyed the mirrors.

Azriel sat on his bed seething as Feyre and Rhys entered. “Elain told us everything. Nesta is sticking to the story she made.” Rhys watched as the house repaired his brother's room. “Elain has been informed time with you is going to be limited, and that she needs to be the one to tell Kaylee and Lucien the truth.”

Feyre moved to the smashed bottles of Kaylee's perfumes and oils. “You'll have to forgive her for whatever she does next, Azriel,” Feyre sniffed her fingers, memorizing her little sister's scent incase she and Lucien didn't make it back home. “She's impulsive when she's angry, and she's hurt-”

Azriel finished the thought, knowing it was true and showing Rhys the memory of Kaylee's skin changing hues. “and wounded animals are the most dangerous.”

Taglist - @impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless

@cat-or-kitten @knmendiola @holb32

@mis-lil-red @minakay @whatsupb18 @deeshag @justdreamstars @pyrostatic @acourtofmarvels @no1massassin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @acourtofbatboydreams

[littlecorpselady]

To be held.

°Part 2 to 'dead to the world' ♡

Just a couple of minutes felt like eternity. An eternity spent staring at the woman across the room. Her eyes looked wild, eye bags denting the area beneath her eyes. After a while, finally, she stands up from the mattress. Briefly shooting back daggers in Bos' direction before shutting the door as she left. No click though, she hadn't found the keys to lock it yet. As he could recall, the arm of the gurney had been wobbily, weakened down with years of use. It might be loose enough. With two strong kicks, it breaks. A little too easily though, it'll have to be fixed later. With one arm a little more free, he reaches out and grabs a knife from his toolbox. Using it to cut away at the leather restraints and tape. It took a good couple of minutes, occasionally shooting a look at the door before resuming. The moment he was free, the knife was promptly stuffed in his pocket before wiping the glistening sweat off his brow. By the time tonight was over, he was going to need a good couple of beers. Maybe budweiser.

You searched through his stuff for anything else helpful, finding another bottle of warm water in the process. Noticing the yellow truck outside, you popped open the drivers seat with no troubles. Promptly searching it throughly just to be stopped by the gun pressing to the back of your head. It was Bo. You didn't need to look back to know. The tension was overwhelmingly silent as he slowly leaned forward until he was close enough to whisper into your ear, tone calm yet laced with threat. "Who are you?" Not answering led to the gun pressing firmer against you and a firmer tone. "Answer me." You laughed, so hard it hurt. Your lungs felt tight. You don't know what more from, though. The laughing or his hand now wrapped around your throat, squeezing forcefully.

The laughing pissed him off to a new degree. Not even throwing and manhandling you eased the anger clawing at him from the inside out. Bashing your head hard against the truck leaving a gash on your forehead. He only began calming down once you were chained up by the ankle in the basement. Looming above for a moment before bending down to your level, meeting your gaze. "I'm not going to have to ask again am i?" You slowly shook your head. "Spit it out then."

Time passes and the basement practially becomes prison over the course of what might have been weeks now. You honestly don't know anymore, there was no point in counting anymore. The only thing you kept track of was how often he'd come by. Sometimes if you were lucky enough he'd remember to bother feeding you. The food was typically cold or just leftovers. Sanity slowly slipped through your fingers, and he was to blame for it. You'd catch yourself waiting for the sound of his footsteps, the click of the door before it swung open. Each time you got a little too inpatient for it, you cussed yourself out throughly. Almost on cue, the door clicks and creaks open. You head must've popped up a little too enthusiastically because he doesn't miss the chance to remark "missed me?" Sitting up, he kneels down in front of you and reaches out to cradle your head in his hands. They were cold bizarrely enough considering the summers heat. You don't what force compelled it but you ended up leaning in, pressing yourself firmer into his grasp. His thumb slowly beginning to caress your cheeks before he wets his chapped lips and leans in pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. For a moment, just a second your eyes flutter shut savouring that odd piece of warmth. The kissed lingered before being ripped away. The only piece of affection you've had in who knows how long. Opening your eyes, he smiles

back at you. It was disgusting how it made you crumble, melt into his grasp. Falling right into where he wants you. This wasn't supposed to happen.

His chest was flush against yours, hands all over the place before settling on your hips. His blue eyes fixated on watching your face with each snap of his hips. The thrusts were slow but deep, pressing himself to the hilt. Keeping a firm grasp on his sweaty back, you bury you head into the crook of his neck just to be yanked away by the back of your hair clenched in his fist. His hands were rough, they always were and yet you forced yourself to find comfort in it. Made yourself at home, accepting the gore and grime which came along with that home. Anything for the feeling of security. In anyone's arms. Even Bos.

[k5ashe]

promising forever

I broke up with my boyfriend so time for some angst

She stayed quiet for a while, thinking. Then it hit her, and she sighed

"I can hide. We don't have to break up."

For the first time in a long time, he hesitates.

"Hide? What do you mean? Hide where? How?"

He takes a step closer to her, studying her expression. His gray eyes betray a mixture of frustration and a hint of sadness.

"This is because of those men, right? You think they will come after me." She spoke, looking at him with a nervous expression.

"Of course it's those fucking Dragons!" He snaps, his frustration evident. "If those bastards find out about you, they'll do anything to screw with me using you. I'm not going to let them hurt you." He runs his hand through his hair, sighing deeply as he lowers his eyes. "You don't know what they are capable of. Trust me, please. You don't want to be involved in all of this."

"I'll wait. I'll wait for you." She said, grabbing his coat, pulling him closer to her trembling form. ''I'll wait, so--.. Don't break up with me. Please.''

God-fucking-damnit, he can never say no. He's not strong enough. He looks at you for a long moment, searching for the strength to push you away.

"...I-" his voice catches, the words dying in his throat as he tries to break your hopes, but his arms, moving on his own, wrap around you in a tight embrace."No. You can't. Please. You deserve better than me."

He murmurs as he holds you against his chest, one hand caressing your hair. "You're so sweet and innocent. I am darkness and violence. I live for fighting, for the chase. You deserve someone better than me. Someone who can love you truly. Who can give you a safe life. I can't do that for you. You know I can't."

"I'll die without you". She screamed, voice trembling. "Please don't leave me. I'll wait-.. So please."

There are few things in the world more painful for him than seeing you cry. His heart feels like it's been stabbed as a tight knot forms in his chest. His eyes are also glassy with tears, but he doesn't shed them. Him, being an extremely stoic and closed-off man, would rather cut open his veins than show his tears. It's a weakness he refuses to show.

"Love. Lov-" he whispers, his voice strained, his fingers digging into your waist. He shakes his head, swallowing hard. His heart is breaking, he's unable to see you cry. Unable to hear you beg. He's is losing his composure as the knot in his chest tightens further. He wants to fight it, fight his feelings, but he cannot. His arms tighten around you.

"Alright. Please, please stop crying. I won't." He whispers in a cracked voice, pressing your face against his chest. "I won't break up, my love. I'm here, I-I'm here." His voice falters, barely audible. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice low as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. His fingers press into your skin, needing to feel you close. To have you near.

His eyes are closed, tears welling up and he hates himself for being so weak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He can hear his father's disapproving voice in his head, telling him that he shouldn't be crying. That he should be strong. That a man should never cry.

Without a word, she sat beside him and placed a hand on his back. He flinched slightly at the contact but didn’t pull away. She began rubbing slow, soothing circles, waiting for him to speak, but he stayed silent.

“Hey,” she said gently, her voice a soft melody in the silence. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone.”

He shook his head, his hands dropping to his lap as he wiped at his eyes hastily. “I shouldn’t be like this,” he said, his voice raw and barely audible. She knelt in front of him, her hands gently cupping his tear-streaked face. Her voice trembled, raw with emotion, but her words were steady.

“I’ll wait, okay?” she whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. Her lips lingered there, as though trying to pour all her strength into him. “For days. Months. Years. I don’t care how long it takes—I'll be here, waiting for you to find your way back.”

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her gaze fierce, unwavering. “But don’t you dare die on me. Don’t even think about it. I swear, if you try to leave me, I’ll follow you. To the ends of the earth, to the edge of whatever comes after this life—I’ll chase you, and I’ll bring you back.” Her voice cracked, but her grip on his face tightened. “You can’t escape me. You don’t get to leave me here, not like this. Not ever.”