#if they don’t physically reunite it was all for NOTHING | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girllblogging777 · 1 month

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𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑀𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝐼𝐸𝐶𝐸

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (fluff, little angst)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1,5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you and mattheo reunite after two painful months of being away during summer.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

two months. sixty-five days. a thousand five hundred and sixty hours. that was the amount of time mattheo had spent away from you. two months of being secluded from the rest of the world, and from his own world, his girlfriend. two months of enduring the worst and most painful pain, both mentally and physically, inflicted by his father.

ever since he’d started at hogwarts, six years ago, mattheo had always dreaded the time he had to go back to the place others called “home.” despite the whispers and reputation that followed him at school, hogwarts was his refuge. it was the one place that gave him space away from his biggest enemy. because that’s what voldemort was to him, his enemy, not his father.

although mattheo rarely opened up about his family life. or the lack thereof, it was painfully clear for you what he was going through. you knew he would return to school with bruises on his body and scars on his heart, reminders of whatever horrors he had been through at the riddle mansion. the truth was, you had spent the entire summer in a state of anxiety, unable to sleep and feeling like a piece of your soul was missing and hurting. the fact that you couldn’t contact him gnawed at you and made you full of guilt and worry.

“you don’t understand ! if something happened, i would never know,” you had told his friends, who you kept in touch with during the summer. “are you sure he’s okay? i want him back, i can’t bear the thought of him going back there again.” you declared when they all tried to reassure you.

as you said your final goodbyes to your family on the train platform, your eyes wandered the crowded station, desperately looking for the familiar brown-eyed boy you craved like oxygen. one by one, your friends appeared, excited to be back here for another year at hogwarts. you forced a smile, hugging them and making small talk, while fighting to keep your mind off mattheo’s missing presence..

once on the train, pansy cornered you and began to share every detail of her summer flings. you listened politely, but eventually you excused yourself, heading away from your friends and wandering through the narrow corridor of the train. still no sign of mattheo. your heart sank a little more every time you passed through another compartment where he wasn’t.

finally, you found an empty compartment and entered it, sitting down and resting your head against the cool glass of the window. the rhythm of the train was comforting, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your fatigue won the battle. “where are you, matt ?” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips before you fell in a deep sleep.

the gentle movement of the train and the distant sound of voices in other compartments surrounded you as you slept, your body curled up on the wooden seat. the weight of the past few months, of sleepless nights and constant worry finally caught up with you, pulling you into a deep slumber.

you didn’t hear the compartment door open. you didn’t see the familiar figure standing there, hesitating, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at you for the first time in what felt like forever. mattheo’s heart ached at the sight of you, your face peaceful but marked by the signs of exhaustion and worry.

for a moment he just stood there, letting the reality of your presence wash over him. he had replayed this moment in his mind countless times during those two long months, as it was the only thing that kept him going. but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming rush of emotions now that he was here, seeing you again.

finally, unable to bear the distance any longer, he stepped forward. slowly, carefully and as if afraid to break the fragile peace of the moment, he knelt down beside you, his hand trembling as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

the touch was featherlight, but it was enough to wake you up. your eyes fluttered open, the memories of your dreams slowly giving way to reality. and then you saw him. mattheo, his familiar brown eyes filled with something deep and raw, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“mattheo…” you whispered, as if saying his name would make him disappear, as if he was just another dream. but he was real, he was here with you, cupping your cheek and brushing it softly with his calloused fingertips. “it’s me,” he murmured with a rough voice filled with emotions. “i’m here, love.”

you sat up with a pounding heart, your hands reaching out to touch him, to make sure he was real. your fingers traced the lines of his face, the familiar curve of his jaw, the faint bruises that were fresh on his skin. your eyes unconsciously filled with tears, and you couldn’t hold them back any longer. “i was so scared,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “i didn’t know if… i thought-“

“shh” mattheo whispered, pulling you into his arms, holding you close as your body shook with sobs. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his robes as if you could somehow keep him with you, keep him away him from leaving you again. your touch was hurting his bruised body but he didn’t budge, because your presence was worth all the hurt in the world. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you pleaded against his chest. “i can’t lose you, mattheo.”

he held you tighter, his own eyes stinging with tears he refused to let fall. “i won’t ” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “i won’t ever leave you again.” for a long moment, the two of you just held each other with nothing left but the sound of your breathing, the beating of your hearts in sync. you slowly pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still cradling his face.

“you’re hurt,” you said softly, your eyes tracing the bruises, the dark circles under his eyes, the pain that was visibly there. “what did he do to you?” mattheo shook his head slightly, closing his eyes for a moment as if trying to block out the memories. “it doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m here now. that’s all that matters, i’m home.” because that was the truth, no matter how much time he spent back at the riddle manor, the only real home he had was you.

you opened your mouth to say that it did matter, that he couldn’t just brush it off like that and that you needed him to talk to you, but the look in his eyes stopped you. there was a darkness there, a pain that made your heart ache. you knew he wasn’t ready to talk about it, not yet. so you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “okay,” you whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “you’re home, baby.”

mattheo seemed to melt under your touch and closed his eyes, his arms still wrapped tightly around you as if he was afraid that you would disappear. but you didn’t. you stayed right there, grounding him and reminding him that you would never leave. “i missed you so much,” you broke the silence, whispering. “every day, every night… it was like a part of me was missing.”

“i missed you too,” mattheo admitted, his voice barely audible. words of affirmations were rare for him, so you cherished each one of his words. “it was the only thing that kept me going. knowing that i’d come back to you.” you looked into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the vulnerable side of him he didn’t let anyone else see. you rested your forehead against his, softly tracing the shape of his lips and trying to memorise every single feature of his face.

“i’m not letting you go back there again,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the tears that were about to fall again. “i want to be with you, always.” your boyfriend nodded and tightened his grip on you. “i won’t leave you again, i promise” he declared, a promise he intended to keep.

with that, he pressed a delicate kiss on your soft lips, both of you afraid to hurt one another. you kissed him back, reassuringly tangling your fingers in his curled hair as his hand found your waist, fitting perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. it was gentler than your usual desperate and hunger filled touches, but it meant everything, a promise that the two of you would only ever stay together and protect one another.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : woop woop here’s a little back to school motivation for y’all, once again highly inspired by a convo from character ai… i loved this request (please give me more !) likes/comments/reblogs are appreciated <3

tell me if you wanna be tagged when i post !

@tateshifts @shiftingwithmars @yikesitslush @elsie-bells @reys-letters @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @fluffycookies22 @fbvreadingblog @bellatrix-lestrange5 @moonlightreader649 @icantkeepmyplantsalive @iris-qt @clar2aa @dexoq @larmesdevanille @myunperfektstorys

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xlovellydreams · 20 days

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Reuniting

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⟡ ☾ ⟡ 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Summary: Reuniting with Rhysand after Under the Mountain

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Word Count: 4.7k

Note: Hi guys! So, as you can see, this is my first work here – and the first one that I do post fully in English (mhm, as you can guess, English is not my first language, so let me know if you find any mistakes so I can correct them quickly). Anyway, I hope you will like it, and let me know if I should maybe do a part 2?

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⟡ ☾ ⟡ 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

It had been fifty years. Fifty years since you last saw Rhysand. You slowly started to begin thinking that you’d never see him again. That you’d never touch him again, hear his laugh, see his smile. You were drowning yourself in expensive wines, just for distraction between mourning his absence and taking care of the Night Court.

The morning was rough for you. Waking up early after drinking so heavily with Cassian last night made your head spin, and your eyes dry and red. You decided to wake yourself up a little. Wrapped in one of his robes you walked out of your room, right into the balcony.

And then, so suddenly he appeared in front of you. Just like that.

You and Rhysand just stared at each other in silence.

His skin was so pale, nothing left from his beautiful tan. On top of that sickeningly pale skin, the dark shadows underneath his dull, violet eyes made him look like he hadn’t slept at all for the last centuries. Those violet eyes, that you knew so perfectly didn’t shine like they used to. No spark in them.

You didn’t know what Rhys had endured Under the Mountain. Didn’t know what Amarantha had forced him to do. You were just standing there, shocked.

“Y/N…” Rhysand finally broke the silence.

You took a small step back, shaking your already spinning head. Your eyes were wide, and you needed to blink rapidly as you just could not believe it.

Rhysand took a step forward. You could see that he was trying to hold back his emotions. His eyes looked pained, so so pained.

“Don’t run from me, please… it’s me. It’s really me…” his voice was shaky.

“Gods” your voice cracked as you shook your head again. You did not even care about that headache anymore. “I shouldn’t have drunk with Cassian. Gods, I am hallucinating.”

Rhysand chuckled under his breath. It sounded hollow, humorless. He took another step closer. He was standing right in front of you now, his tall, lean body mere centimeters away from you. He was so so close to you. You could smell him. He smelt the same. Just like you remembered. Citrus and sea, and you were slowly breaking.

Rhys reached out a hand, carefully taking one of your own.

“Does this feel like a hallucination?” His voice was soft like silk. The voice that you had always known.

You choked out a small cry, tears in your eyes already building. “Holy shit, that wine was freaking strong” you mumbled, brushing your fingers against his. Not believing that you were touching him again. After so long. You honestly were not sure if you were not hallucinating.

Rhysand laughed. That same warm, rich sound that would melt your insides. He took another step closer, his body against yours and he wrapped his lean, strong arms around you, crushing you against his broad chest, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He breathed in your scent and sighed deeply.

“Gods, I thought I would never get to hold you again.”

You shattered.

A loud sob escaped your lips as you immediately wrapped your hands around his neck. Hugging him, holding onto him as your knees buckled and you were sure you would have fallen to the floor if he was not holding you. But he was real and he held you up, not allowing you to collapse.

He was real. Not a hallucination. Not a dream.

Rhysand’s arms tightened around you as you began to cry. He held you as close as he physically could, and he had to bend down so he could bury his head into your shoulder. He pulled you even closer, his body shaking with emotion as he breathed you in. You felt his mouth on your shoulder, his lips pressing into you, a silent apology.

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you…” Rhysand repeated over and over again between ragged breaths.

“I won’t drink with Cassian again. It feels too real” you sobbed into his neck, holding onto him for dear life.

He laughed.

A weak laugh was huffed against your shoulder. “Please refrain from drinking with my brother if it’s going to affect you this much” he sounded so much like Rhys you knew. Gods, you had missed that so much.

His body was shaking violently, his emotions overflowing. But it was as if he was desperately trying to appear strong. He slowly pulled his head away from you, pulling back far enough that he could look at your face. His hands came up to gently cup your face, his fingers wiping away the tears that were still falling down your cheeks. He examined you with his violet eyes, taking in your face, your eyes, your hair. He was drinking you in.

“You’re more beautiful than I remembered.” Rhys breathed.

Those words snapped you back into reality.

Rhys was really here. He was really back after fifty years, after disappearing so suddenly.

Within seconds you feel the same anger you had felt that day. You gathered your strength, pulling yourself to stand straight and free yourself from his arms. Without thinking twice, you turned, reaching for one of the pillows from the small armchair you were always using while sitting on the balcony. And you threw it at him, hard.

Rhysand had relaxed the moment he saw recognition in your eyes. Then, before he could register what was happening, you’d freed yourself from his arms and swung a pillow at his head. Rhys stumbled backward as the pillow smacked him right in his face. He let it fall to the stone floor of the balcony, looking at you surprised, a small frown appearing on his face.

“What in the Cauldron was that for?”

“What in the Cauldron was that for?!” You snapped angrily, reaching for another pillow, throwing it at him again.

Rhys managed to catch the second pillow you threw at him before it hit his face. Again, he dropped down the cushion looking back up to you.

“You couldn’t have just said ‘welcome back’ like a normal person?” He sighed when he saw you reach for ANOTHER pillow. “Come on, put the pillow down.”

“Idiot! Prick!” You threw that pillow, the one he told you to put down.

Each pillow that hit him, Rhys caught with ease. And each time he caught a pillow he looked at you with a scowl on his face.

“Idiot? Prick? Bit harsh, don’t you think?” he grumbled before another pillow hit him in the chest.

But you were too angry, your eyes filled with tears, as you kept throwing pillows. You were a little glad, that you had spent a lot of sleepless nights on that balcony, buried in blankets and pillows, talking to the stars, praying for him to be back.

“How about you stop throwing things at me and we talk?” He tried to reason with you, but you were having none of it.

“Stupid. Selfish. Thoughtless bastard…” you muttered as you picked up another pillow.

“That’s it. Enough is enough.” Rhysand growled and he stalked towards you.

The next thing you knew, he had wrapped his arms around you and he picked you up as if you weighed absolutely nothing. He was now carrying you off the balcony and into your bedroom. He walked over to the bed and flung you down on it, your body landing on the soft mattress with a thump.

You groaned softly, immediately sitting up, and reaching for a pillow from your bed but his hand stopped you.

Rhys quickly straddled your thighs, using his hands to push you back down onto the bed so you couldn’t get up and grab the pillow. His knees on either side of your legs and, with his hands on your wrists, he pinned your arms above your head. He was above you, looking down at you with an intense expression.

“Do I have to tie you down?” Rhys threatened, narrowing his eyes.

Looking up into his violet eyes you slowly calmed down, taking a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“Let me sit up” you murmured softly after a few minutes of silence.

Rhysand watched as your breathing started to level out, your chest slowly rising and falling. He still held you pinned to the bed, your wrists still in his firm grip. He didn’t respond right away, he just silently took you in. He could feel you calming down beneath him, the anger and frustration that had been in your chest earlier now starting to ease.

Finally, he released your wrists. “No more throwing pillows at me,” he told you firmly.

Instead of throwing a pillow this time, you threw yourself, burying your face in his neck, letting out a small sob again.

Rhysand’s arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. He felt you bury your face into his neck, your tears staining his shirt. He held you against him closely, his arms like a vice as he practically crushed you to his body. He buried his face in your shoulder, his own body still shaking from emotions.

Rhys was finally holding you again after fifty freaking years.

“You are so pale” you sniffled into his neck, not letting go of him.

Rhysand chuckled at that, though it was humorless. “Fifty years in the darkness of the mountain will do that to a person” he tried to joke, but the humor seemed to be lost when he spoke.

He held the back of your head with one of his hands, his other hand resting on your lower back. Pulling you even closer if it was possible.

“I’m sorry-”, he whispered into your shoulder, his lips pressing against your skin. He repeated it over and over again like a mantra. His body shook with emotion as he continued to hold you tightly to him. After fifty years of hell, he was finally home. He could finally hold you again.

“Don’t apologize” you tried to stop him, but of course, he was not listening.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Rhys’ words were a whisper. He was breathing you in, his nose buried in your shoulder. “I’m so sorry you had to spend fifty years not knowing what had happened to me. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to hold you or comfort you or laugh with you or dance with you or do any of the things I was supposed to do…” Rhys’ words caught in his throat and he shook his head slightly.

Rhysand didn’t listen when you kept telling him to stop apologizing. He had spent fifty years in the darkest hell possible. He had missed you so much. Had thought about you all the time. Wished every single day that he could be free, that he could come home to you. He continued to whisper his apologies into your shoulder. His apologies for disappearing without a trace, his apologies for taking so long to get home to you.

“Stop it Rhys” you begged softly, pulling his face away from your shoulder, your cheeks red from crying. “You are home. Thank you for coming home.”

Rhysand reluctantly let you pull his head back from your shoulder, his body still shaking. He met your eyes, his own filled with tears, though he was fighting to keep them from falling. When you thanked him for coming home, his throat tightened and he swallowed. Felt another wave of guilt and shame wash over his body when he saw the tears streaming down your face and he had to hold back a whimper.

He didn’t deserve the warmth and kindness in your eyes, not after what he had done while he was under the mountain.

You brushed away the tears from his pale cheeks, as you still sat in front of him, wrapped tightly in his robe.

“You look awful,” you said without a hint of hesitation.

For a second, a hint of a smile appeared on Rhys’ lips. There you were, blunt, sarcastic, honest… He had missed you so much.

“Don’t hold back on the insults, please,” he said sarcastically back, his eyes meeting yours.

“You deserve it”

A small, huff of laughter escaped Rhysand’s lips and he shook his head slowly. He supposed he did, after everything that had happened.

He winced a little as you brushed the tears from his cheeks so softly, so tenderly. He didn’t deserve your softness. Didn’t deserve your kindness.

Rhysand was supposed to be tough, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian. But under your watchful eyes, he felt weak, broken. He felt raw.

“I feel awful. Physically and mentally, I’m exhausted” he took another deep breath, his eyes not leaving yours. There was so much he wanted to say to you. So much he wanted to confess. But he was tired. Too tired to talk about it all.

You didn’t answer, biting your cheek a little harder as you kept running your fingers against his cheeks, trying not to burst into tears again. Later, you promised yourself to ask him later, not now.

Rhysand’s breath caught in his throat as he watched you brush your fingers against his cheek, the sensation shooting straight to his heart. He could see you biting your cheek, could practically feel the tears building up in your eyes. He knew you were trying to hold back your emotions. He didn’t want you to hold back.

He could barely remember the last time someone had touched him with such care, with such tenderness.

His heart ached in his chest as he looked at you. He hated himself for what he had done. Hated himself for leaving you, for making you worry for fifty years. “You can scream at me,” he spoke quietly, “Go on. Scream at me.”

You were trying desperately to keep it together. This was the first time you had seen him since he had disappeared. You had no idea what had happened in the mountain. You had no idea what he’d endured for fifty years. Just looking at you was already killing him. Rhysand just sat on the bed, letting you sit on his lap, his hands resting on your hips. He sat quietly as you touched his face, his eyes flickering over your, taking in your small little movements, your actions.

He wanted to say something, wanted to keep talking to you, but he couldn’t find the words. All he wanted to do was keep holding you close to him, to bury his head in your shoulder, to hold you and never let you go again.

“You left us” you whispered, your thumb still against his cheek. “Just like that. You left your city, you left Cassian, Azriel, Mor, Amren…”

You left me.

Rhysand heard the pain in your voice, as you spoke. Your eyes weren’t looking at him anymore, your gaze was fixed on your own fingers as they touched his cheek. He slowly brought his hand up, gripping your wrist, forcing you to meet his eyes.

Yes, he had left his friends. He had left his city. But he had also left you. You. His mate. His own beloved. He hated thinking about it. Hated himself for leaving you.

“I had no choice,” he said quietly, reopening his eyes and looking at you.

“We would have found another way!” You snapped at him softly, a few tears rolling down your cheeks.

Rhysand reached up with his hand, gently wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. His fingers, which had always been so gentle with you were now trembling slightly.

“There was no other way, you know that as well as I do.” He spoke, his voice quiet and resigned.

He wanted to fight with you, he wanted you to lose your temper. Gods, he wanted you to snap at him. He didn’t deserve your softness. Did deserve your anger, deserved your rage. He was more used to you shouting at him, swearing at him, throwing pillows. Wanted you to shout and yell and curse. He didn’t want your soft voice and your soft touch.

But Rhys also knew you too well. He knew that you would have fought tooth and nail, and risked your own life if you had to, in order to find another way to get rid of Amarantha.

He knew you would fight for your friends, your family.

“You would have gotten yourself killed” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Then opened them again and spoke quietly. “You’re smarter than all of us, you know that… But you wouldn’t have found a different way”

“So what” you huffed. “If it meant saving you, I would have done that.”

Rhysand’s heart ached at that response. So casually saying that you would have sacrificed yourself. You would have gotten yourself killed. Willingly sacrificed your life if it meant finding another way of getting rid of that monster... He wouldn’t allow you to do that. Wouldn’t allow you to get yourself killed.

“You are an idiot,” he told you simply.

You were his everything. The light in his darkness.

“One of the stupidest people I’ve ever met,” he continued, his voice getting a little louder as his annoyance with you grew.

“You just said I am the smartest” you huffed, your eyes softening a little at the hint of annoyance in his voice.

Rhysand looked at you, a small smirk appearing on his face as you huffed. His eyes quickly darted down to your hip, where his hand was still gripping you tightly, keeping you on his lap.

“Smart? Yes. Stubborn? Definitely. Idiotic? Abso-fucking-lutely”

You couldn’t help it anymore, letting out a small chuckle.

“Says the prick himself” you pushed his shoulder gently.

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of your chuckle. Gods, he’d missed you. He’d missed your fire, missed your temper. He’d missed listening to you swearing at him.

“Still calling me a prick, aren’t you?” He asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“You deserve it” you mumbled softly, resting your forehead against his. Still sitting on his lap, in his robe as he did not let you go for even a second.

Rhysand couldn’t help but close his eyes as you rested your forehead against his, the gesture so incredibly intimate. His face so close he could feel your breath on his lips. He hummed in agreement as you mumbled that he deserved it. Gods, he did deserve it. He deserved all the insults you wanted to throw at him.

He had dreamed about this so many times under the mountain. So many days and nights of wishing he was at home, with you. Wishing he was holding you instead of being the monster’s plaything.

His grip on your hip tightened again as you continued to sit in his lap. The smell of you, the feel of you… it was driving him crazy.

Closing his eyes, he savored the feeling of being close to you again. “Perhaps I do deserve it” he muttered, a slight edge to his voice. “You still won’t throw a pillow at me again, will you?”

“I should be throwing more pillows at you” you murmured almost against his lips. “Hell, something heavier.”

“Like one of those books on your shelf, perhaps?” He teased, his eyes still closed as he held you. Relishing in the feeling of you against his body, the soft scent of you filling his nose and he inhaled deeply, trying to commit the moment to memory. He never wanted to forget what it felt like to hold you, never wanted to forget the sound of your voice or your soft laugh.

“One of my daggers, perhaps” you teased him back, running your fingers through his hair.

“Mmmhm” He hummed lazily, a shiver running through his body at the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair. The touch so gentle, so careful. It felt so good, so soothing. Like you were trying to soothe all the pain and trauma away. “Are you threatening your High Lord, darling?”

“I am threatening my mate” you whispered looking straight into his violet eyes.

His mate.

The word mate coming from your lips felt like a jolt to his chest. He closed his eyes for a brief moment as he heard you say it, the word wrapping around his heart and squeezing it tight.

He exhaled a shaky breath, his smirk fading and his expression changing to that of something more vulnerable.

Rhys didn’t think he’d ever become tired of you saying that. The fact that you were his mate, that the Mother had bound you to him in such a beautiful, special way. He was a High Lord. A powerful immortal. But here he was, sitting in your bed with you on his lap, your legs on either side of him. So vulnerable, a side he didn’t let others see.

“Say it again,” he spoke, his voice quiet and firm.

He had to hear you say it. Had to hear that word roll from your mouth once more. He needed confirmation. Needed to hear you say it again and again, over and over, just to remind himself that this was real. That he wasn’t still under the mountain, trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

You moved your fingers from his hair, to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his pale skin.

“My mate. My High Lord. My soulmate. My other half” you whispered softly, tracing the lines around his face.

As you repeated the word, his breathing hitched slightly. He could feel his body getting warmer, his chest aching and a lump forming in his throat.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

The word was running through his head over and over again, as if it was the most important word in the world. Rhysand felt like he could cry at the way you were speaking, the way you were touching him.

He’d spent fifty years in hell. Fifty years he was stuck under the mountain, being forced to become that woman’s plaything.

And here you were. Touching him, caressing his skin, calling him your mate. After everything.

“Again.” He knew you didn’t know what he had endured and he hated that. He made sure to keep his shields up, to keep you away from his mind even now. Hated the fact that he couldn’t pull down his mental shields, couldn’t allow you to see what that witch had made him do.

But he was so damn scared you would hate him if you ever found out.

You chuckled a little, snapping him back. “Later, I will spend the entire night whispering it to you, but now, others are waiting for you too. I bet Cassian and Azriel will be here any second”

Rhysand almost whined as you said you’d whisper it to him later. He wanted you to say it right now, to hear it again and again until he was sure it was real.

But he knew you were right. The idea of seeing his brothers again, of seeing the looks on their faces when they saw that he was home made him smile a little. You mentioning Cassian and Azriel brought a brief sense of relief that flooded his chest. They were alive. They were okay. His family was safe.

Then again, later, you had said. Later. A promise of tonight. Of lying so close to you all night, in his bed, whispering those words to him over and over again.

He let out a breath, reluctantly accepting the fact that you wouldn’t say it again. Not right now.

“You are cruel, you know that?” He grumbled. “Making your mate wait.” He took a moment to take you in, you sitting in front of him on his lap, your skin almost glowing in the sunlight as the light streamed through the windows. You were beautiful. More beautiful than he remembered. “How do I look?”

You burst into loud giggles at his question.

Rhysand watched as your body shook and your laughs filled his ears, and for a moment, he just stared at you in utter disbelief. He couldn’t believe the sound of your laughter. The sound he had missed so dearly while he was away.

When he finally found his voice, he spoke, a sly smirk on his face. “Is that your way of telling me that I look terrible?” His grip on your hip tightened.

You kept giggling softly, nodding your head as you just couldn’t even speak.

Rhysand feigned hurt at your response and your nods, a dramatic sigh leaving his lips as he spoke. “You are insufferable, you know that?” Hearing you giggle at his question, and seeing the gleam of pure happiness in your eyes. He felt as though he could get drunk off the sound and sight of your joy.

Letting out a small fake gasp, cupping your cheek “Here I am, finally returned home after fifty years stuck under the mountain, in order to be greeted by a giggling, stubborn mate of mine who is insulting my appearance.”

You only giggled more, making his heart melt, “I am sorry!”

“Apology not accepted,” he said, feigning sternness. He gave your hip a little squeeze. “Say something nice to me, then I’ll consider letting you off.”

Instead of saying you leaned, capturing his lips in a soft and gentle kiss.

Rhysand froze for a moment.

Your lips, soft and gentle against his, filled him with a feeling of warmth he’d not felt in years. He’d had fifty years of Amarantha forcing herself on him, fifty years of being touched by an unwanted hand.

But your touch, your soft, gentle lips against his own, suddenly filled him with a sense of calm. A sense of being home.

He reached up with his other hand, letting go of your hip, to place it on the back of your neck as he kissed you back.

Before he could have even deepened the kiss, before you could have fully lost yourselves, you pulled away, breaking the kiss.

It had been fifty years since he’d felt the feeling of your lips against his own. Fifty years since he’d kissed you, held you. It was agonising to have to stop the kiss so suddenly. Rhysand couldn’t help but let out a small, almost whiny sound of disappointment as you pulled away from him. He could feel his mind going fuzzy, already addicted to the feeling of your lips against his own. He just wanted the moment to last longer. Wanted to keep kissing you until he couldn’t breathe. Wanted to keep kissing you until you were breathless.

“Why’d you stop?” He was not done kissing you, “Come back here.”

“You need to change” you murmured.

Rhysand huffed, but begrudgingly removed his hand from your cheek.

“Fine,” he mumbled, a hint of annoyance in his voice. But his eyes were on your lips again. “Can I expect that I’ll get to taste those lips again once I’m done changing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You smiled, so softly as you shook your head. “Later, for the night I am all yours. But now I want you to just, take a bath, relax a little and then come downstairs,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek “because your family is waiting.”

There was that word again. Later. You were really testing his patience here. Rhys stifled the urge to pout as you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering on his skin for a moment longer.

Even though he really, really just wanted to stay in your embrace, his family was waiting for him.

He huffed again, the sound turning into a small chuckle. “You are cruel to me” he murmured, begrudgingly letting go of you. His family were waiting, he knew that. He could sense his brothers close; could sense their worry and eagerness. And that’s why he didn’t want to leave you, to leave this room. He didn’t want to leave this bubble that was just you and him.

“Rhys?” You whispered softly, before he could disappear in the bathroom.

Rhysand heard you whisper his name. His name, spoken in your soft voice. Gods, he had missed the way you said it. How you’d say it like a prayer, like a promise.

He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he responded. “Yes, darling?”

“Welcome home”

#rhysand #rhysand x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar #fanfic #rhys x reader #fanfiction #my writing #writings #rhysand fanfic

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silkythewriter · 4 months

Note

Hello! Can I request alastor x reader where the two were married while they were alive, but reader died via illness or something and went to hell (though they never partaked in the cannibalism) and the reunite in hell?

“I'll love you 'til I'm dead”

Warning!: Angst, but eventually fluff! A bit of OOC since I haven’t written in awhile.. (.,.)💧

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note: LONGGGGG TIME NO SEE, HIYA! IM SO SORRY FOR MY HIATUS OF SORTS BUT I FELT LIKE WRITING SUM SMALL ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I apologize!, I hope you guys enjoy and I’m so sorry for disagreeing yet again!.

Summary!: Spouse! Reader dying via sickness, but reuniting with alastor in hell.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Louise (Louise)

I'll love you 'til I'm dead

Louise (Louise)

Not even if she likes the way you dance

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

First of all, he cherished you to the fullest content. As stuck up as he seems to be smile and all, he was in desperate need of support and attention. And you supplying both of those was all he needed even if he didn’t say out loud the tender touches and moments you both shared alone was enough to tell you everything.

Your relationship was nothing less then sweet and tender, and depending if you knew of his..ahem..little side hobby, it was innocent as well!

He cared for you so deeply, so desperately, to the point where you became his tie to humanity. Of course he knew how to play a role of a sane man, but even then he needed you to tie him to the small humanity and sanity he had.

Although not a big fan of physical affection himself he would in private of course, indulge in your soft touches, and hold. He and there he may quietly slip next to you just so you could softly run you fingers across his skin.

But of course the unviable happen, as the world ripped him of what he held so dear. Maybe as a punishment for his sins and misdeeds, or simply because it could.

Of course in the 30’s medicine was far from advanced, not only that but expensive. So when the news arrived of your newly found sickness all he could do was smile and nod at the doctor as if he wasn’t receiving the most dreadful news.

At first, he genuinely did hope for a recovery, he believed you would get better. Sure a tiny voice in his head was feeding him scary thoughts, and his gut twisted and turned. He felt something was off but surely it was nothing!, right?.

But as your health deteriorated so did his mental state and sanity, even worse then it once was. He put up a front though, for your sake and his, comforting you and saying how you’ll be fine soon, and recover then both of you could go off and do something you always wanted to do.

At some points of repeating this it really turned into him assuring himself. That your not leaving him, no, not anytime soon.

The more you fell ill the more you watched him spiral infront of you. And all you really could do was stare at him with sadden eyes as you gave comforting touches against his cheek or holding him close, even if you could barely pull yourself up from the bed you laid.

You felt your time coming close to ending, and somehow so did he. But unlike you he denied it to the fullest extent.

“Please dear don’t speak of such things, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be fine you’ll see!, now just rest my dear”

He wanted to believe it’ll pass over anytime now, ignoring the doctors he spent fortunes on. And sometimes he does blame them even if they just told the truth. He hated how they couldn’t help you, how he couldn’t help you.

So the day of you passing was the day he lost his final tie to humanity. If not for you, why give such a nasty world mercy?.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

The minute they lowered your casket and buried you with the dirt is also the day he decided to amp up his murders.

He’s not sloppy with his murders their always calculated and tidy but grossem. Even with this, losing you he couldn’t concentrate which didn’t help his case as his blood lust grew and grew.

Each and every murder his mind went blank, thoughts of you kept flooding in that he desperately wanted to rip from his mind.

If a woman that wore you same fragrant passed him. She would be gone in a matter of days.

Nights were colder, harsher, he always assumed karma would catch up to him, but to him not you.

He often questioned what happened how did it happen. How did you even get such a illness?, and why did it have to be you?. We’re you in heaven watching him in his pitiful state? Was there even such a thing?. If there was…he surely wasn’t going to see you he knew where he was damned to go, but you?, he was sure you deserved the Pearl-ist set of wings.

Depending on the days, months or years following your death, he’s like a ticking time bomb.

He yearns for you in such a way he’s humiliated at it in a way. He misses you desperately, widowed too soon, he always assumed it would be you to be in this position, but he assumed wrong.

Even then he couldn’t tell if he could subject you to the twist of his heart and guts. He would beg to die before you, but the pain he feels now is something he would never want you to feel.

Following thoughts of your death was also his. Would he get to see you soon?, one last glance before being damned?.

He never truly moved on, cause you were his only love. Loving someone for him atleast, was rare in a romantic sense.

At some point he genuinely does just continue his murders till his death, maybe it was your passing that truly killed him. After your passing he was a bit hasty, maybe that’s what lead him to be shot in the woods. But who truly knows?

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Now, after his death is where everything truly came together.

His rise to power was fairly quick killing overloads one by one gaining more voices on his radio.

But the lingering feeling of hope stayed in him…maybe you were here? Waiting for him?, But at the same time he hated this life for you, in such a miserable and disgusting yet admittedly amusing place(at least to him)

Now depending on how you found him maybe the minute his radio debuted. Or maybe by a game of telephone by the residents in hell whispering rumors and describing someone all to familiar to you.

Either way! You guys do eventually find each other. By chance or destiny is up to you

The minute he spots you, hears you, even senses you, he freezes. His smile never flattering but static surrounding the area as he processes what’s happening. Is this some sort of trick?, how..how did you end up here?

In a matter a seconds though he’s in front of you, looming as his shadow grows in suspense.

He holds his appearance and self image very important but in this tiny moment of silence. He lets it slip even if just a bit, smile never faltering but I’m his eyes a glimpse of renewed joy. Genuine joy, not form the harms of others but from something warm…something bitter sweet.

Maybe it’s you who pipes up snapping him from observing you like a painting in a museum.

“See?” You said softly grabbing his hand gently like you used to do, as you softly brought it to your face and softly planted it on your cheek. “I’m real” you said with a soft smile (SILENT HILL REFERENCE!!¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Depending on where you are he’s quick to whisk you away to somewhere secluded.

Despite the questions on his mind all he can do is silently stare at you taking in ever detail, even if some changes here and there, you were still you. The you that he missed so desperately for all too long.

Even if not one for physical affection he’s quick with holding you, scared of you being taken from him again, taking in all he can.

Your so much more precious then he leads on, and he’ll be damned to second hell if he loses you again.

In the period of first meeting you again he is keen on keeping an eye one you 24/7, doesn’t matter what powers or how long you survived without him in hell. He can’t risk it, especially not now as he started accumulating enemies so quickly.

He’ll treat you like it’s your first time dating, of course in his old time-y way, but either surprising you with flowers at random times of the day, or watching you get giddy when he kisses the crown of your head.

Now that he knows, and felt the pain of losing you, every moment you have together form than on is cherished more than before. He remembers every day with you like the back of his hand, what you ate, what you said, what you wore, and more!

He know’s…he knows he’s a messed up, and vail man. He understands the gruesome things he’s done with little to no regret. But if he did in somehow and some way do good, something good to earn you back in his afterlife man is he greatful for it.

Some nights he does just stare at you. He’s scared, he will never show it but he is. If he loses you again, for eternity, he’s not sure what’d he do with himself. And that, the fact you weight so heavily on him is the second scariest thing, first being losing you.

Over all, he’s taken aback having you back, but he gets use to it very quickly, your soft comforting touches and your voice that brings back a flood of memories is something he will never forget nor let ago, he isn’t losing you this time, and he’ll do anything to make sure of that.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

WOW THAT WAS LONG, I LOVED WRITING IT THOUGH OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS IDEA, PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!!! \(^ヮ^)/

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sun-kissy · 2 months

Text

sit together | s.b.

tw: angst, hurt/comfort

a/n: inspiration really struck with this one! was feeling sad about poa sirius so i decided to write this :) enjoy!

summary: sirius is back from azkaban, but things just don’t feel like they used to

“I wish I knew how to talk about it,” you murmur, gaze fixed on the tearing leather of the couch as you thumb it absentmindedly, like it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Sirius looks up from where he slouches on the other end, surprise flashing across his features. “What?”

He’s startled, really, that you decided to start a conversation. It’s something you haven’t done once in these past few days.

Sirius presumed you’d be happy to have him home, glad to be reunited with your lover after twelve long years. But ever since he returned, he’s felt a constant craving for your affection.

The truth was that he didn’t feel much different right now from how he did in Azkaban.

Hours spent tirelessly longing for you - for the touch of your soft skin beneath his calloused hands, the feel of your tender lips on his chapped ones. It was how he survived, dreaming of who was waiting for him on the other side of the cruel metal bars.

It had felt like he was going mad sometimes, crazy for you. Hands grasping at what he thought was the fabric of your dress. Fever dreams and hallucinations of soft moans, whispered promises. Loud sobs racking his body because he envisioned a glimpse of your death. But you were here, now, sitting stoic in front of him.

You weren’t the same anymore, though. You were no longer the person he had left behind when he was taken away. You weren’t his.

What had once been stolen kisses and longing stares had turned into accidental touches and pulling away. Late night heart-to-hearts about rings and cradles had been replaced with small talk, mindless rambling for the sake of conversation.

Where there had been love, there was now a barrier. And Sirius couldn’t tell if it was a mental one or a physical one; considering that you now slept with two doors separating you.

He wished he could say all of this, express the twinge of pain that tore through his chest every time he looked into your lifeless eyes. But all that he managed to croak out was, “What do you mean?”

“This,” you gesture between the two of you, finally mustering the strength to meet his steady gaze. You wish you hadn’t. The torment in his eyes was going to haunt you for the rest of your life.

Everything had changed, it was as obvious as the rising of the sun. His departure had left you like a rag doll, solemn and still as though the life had been sucked out of you. It was more than a decade ago. But you had felt the anguish grip you every minute of every day from the time he was taken away.

He had left you with so much anger, so much hatred for the circumstances you were left in. You knew deep down that it wasn’t his fault, of course it wasn’t. But you weren’t about to direct your fury at anyone else. Not at Remus, the pathetic bloke who had just lost his best friends. Not at Peter - he deserved nothing, not even your emotions.

So you channeled your rage at Sirius. Because you were so desperate to get the image of his pleading eyes out of your head, so fraught with the need to kill the longing ache that filled your body when he double-crossed your mind. You couldn’t bear the pain of loving him, so you convinced yourself to hate him. Told yourself that he killed James and Lily. He abandoned you and was never coming back.

But he was here now, looking at you like his universe began and ended with your love.

You suck in a shaky breath and continue, convincing yourself that if you didn’t have this conversation now, you never would. “I don’t know how to talk about this. About us. Nothing’s…. nothing’s the same anymore.”

Sirius’ eyebrows bunch in concern, and you don’t miss the slight quiver in his lips as he bites down on them. He breathes sharply, blinking away what looks suspiciously like tears.

“Well,�� he starts, gulping down a lump in his throat as he continues to train his eyes on you. “You don’t- we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I don’t?”

“No, you don’t.”

“We can just… we can just sit together,” he blurts out, seeming puzzled at his own words for a moment as he averts his gaze to the ground.

But then his expression clears up, and he looks back into your eyes, surprisingly firm. “If you’d like to, I mean. If you’d like to sit together.”

“Sit with you?” you repeat.

“Sit with me,” he says again.

“Okay.”

Sirius lets out a tense exhale, visibly relieved. He gives you a terse yet encouraging smile, patting the spot next to him.

You take a deep breath, pressing your palms into the couch as you move yourself towards him.

The next moment, your indent in the couch is melding with his, knees touching the other’s. He extends his arm behind you, unsure. But when you don’t protest, he wraps it around you gently, pulling you into his side with all the care in the world.

“Okay?”

Uncertainty.

“Okay.”

Hope.

You feel your walls start to collapse, involuntarily melting into Sirius’ touch. This is what it used to be like, this is how you used to spend your days.

It was engraved into your very bones, the feel of his skin against yours. Etched on your soul were the hearts he used to trace with his slender fingers, the marks of where he left his kisses. Visible to no one but you and him.

He sucks in a trembling breath and you fear he’s going to start crying. Worse, you think you might just crumble into a pool of tears yourself. So you do what your heart is screaming at you to, and wrap your arms around him tenderly.

Sirius immediately tugs you impossibly closer, burying his face in your hair. You feel the yearning in his embrace, his hungry craving to hold you close. His tears wet your hair as you nestle your face in his chest.

The both of you stay like that for what feels like forever, making up for all the time you should’ve had. At one point you start to rock him as he cries, trying to pretend like his muffled sobs didn’t send daggers through your heart.

“I love you,” Sirius breathes shakily, a while after his bout of tears has passed.

Silence.

He seems to understand, seems to accept it. He gently rakes his fingers through your hair. “Do you love me?”

It’s less of a question, more of a plead. You think he might already know the answer. And you know he’d continue to love you either way.

“I don’t know,” you admit softly, feeling the guilt squeeze your chest.

You feel his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he murmurs, a hint of heartbreak in his voice. He lays his head on your yours and closes his eyes as he squeezes you just a little bit tighter. “You don’t have to love me. Not now, not ever. But… until you do, we can just continue to sit together, you know?”

That earns a soft chuckle from you.

“Sit together,” you muse, feeling your lips start to curve upwards. Your agreement is obvious from the smile in your voice.

“Sit together,” he echoes, smiling softly.

Sirius would love you for the rest of his life if you’d let him. But until you did, he was content to just sit next to you with his arm around your shoulder and head resting on yours.

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 8 months

Text

Spawn

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: y/n death & resurrection, Astarion being in his feels, smidge of angst but mostly just hurt comfort fluff

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

You writhed in pain on your bedroll. Astarion and Shadowheart moved quickly, taking off your armor. Karlach kept her hand pressed firmly over the gushing wound on your thigh. Gale, Shadowheart, and Wyll all tried to muster their powers; you could see it in their eyes. The battle against the Murder Tribunal was as close as you’ve come to dying. You could feel your cracked ribs shift every time you tried to suck in a breath. The arrow hole in your thigh was pulsing. And the slash across your chest was the most concerning as it was rather deep. Nothing vital cut but your severed flesh needed to be reunited ASAP. Your head was spinning and everything felt fuzzy and overwhelming. You wanted to scream, it was all too much. You looked sickly, the blood loss becoming more apparent by the minute. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. You slowly turned your gaze to Astarion. He looked so scared, you had never seen that emotion across his face. You tilted his head up a bit with a weak hand.

You smiled the best you could as you studied him. Your vision was going in and out of focus, you felt so light. “So beautiful… little star…” you slurred as you watched his eyes water.

“Somebody fucking do something!” Astarion yelled. He heard your heart slowing down and it was the worst sound he’d heard in 200 years.

When your eyes fluttered closed and you stopped mumbling to him; when he heard your heart go still. Everyone stopped their movements, knowing you were gone. Eyes fell upon Astarion but his were glued to you.

“Darling… wake up, let’s go home… you’re so cold we need to get you warm.” He rubbed his frigid hands up and down your arms trying to warm your lifeless corpse. “Please my love… don’t leave… I don’t want to be alone again…” tears cascaded down his cheeks. He pulled you into him, rocking you both back and forth as he sobbed into your hair.

——————————-

Astarion sat in the tent with you, everyone leaving him to grieve. He wanted to pray to any gods who would listen but he knew what a waste of time that was. His throat was dry, it’s all he could feel physically. And he hated the fact that your bloodied corpse smelt delicious to him. He pulled you back into him. He kissed over your neck before begrudgingly sinking his teeth in. He knew this was wrong but he also knew he was weak and needed strength to bring you back. An idea settled in his mind as he sucked your frozen crimson into him. He pulled away abruptly. He bit into his wrist, wincing at the pain a bit. He let his blood, his poison drip into your mouth.

“Come on… work damn you…” he said, pleading with everything he had in him. You remained motionless. Astarion stood on shaky legs, he felt sick he couldn’t be in the same room as you right now. He failed you and it was devouring him. He walked out of the tent, leaving you.

————————------

You awoke with a start, sitting upright. You weren’t breathing, your heart wasn’t beating. What was this? Every sense of yours felt dialed to eleven. It was difficult to think, your mind flitting everywhere. Above all you felt your throat and how it was constricting, dry as a desert. You felt compelled to hunt, your jaw ached. Your head felt cinched with pressure and you had no idea why.

“Come back to me.” A voice echoed in your head, it was a command and before you knew it your legs were taking you somewhere. Nobody saw you leave your tent as they had all turned in for the night. Astarion however was perched down near the lake. Gazing across it, soft sniffles and sobs escaped him as you creeped up behind him.

“Star…” you whispered.

He whipped around, legs fumbling for traction and he raced to you, pulling you into a hug. “Thank the gods you’re alright!” He said as he kissed your cheeks.

“Something’s wrong…” you said, voice cracking.

His eyebrows furrowed, “What’s wrong little love?” That’s when he saw it. Your eyes, dark yet with glowing irises. Just like that of a vampire spawn. You had defeated Cazador two days ago, Astarion had no master. He was a full vampire. His desperate plea was living before his eyes and he had no idea what to make of it.

“I’m a spawn…” you whispered looking up at him. He could hear the pain in your words.

“I didn’t think it would work! I just… I had to try and save you…” he defended.

You absorbed what he said before you spoke, “And what now? I belong to you? Obey you?” You spat the word “obey”.

Astarion laughed to himself ever so slightly before biting into his already healed wrist. You immediately reached for him, sucking down gulps of him, feeling powerful. Astarion had to practically rip you off of him.

“I’m sorry.” You said as you rolled the last of his thick blood over your tongue. A warmth settled in your stomach before you became permanently cold.

“Now you’re not a spawn. You didn’t actually think I would keep you as my spawn did you?” He said with soft eyes.

You sighed, “What was it you told me? Vampires are power hungry creatures?… I… I was just scared. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Don’t be, I would have thought the same.” He pulled you in, kissing your head as you leaned against his chest. It was so quiet between the two of you. No breaths, no heart beats.

“I’m still scared…” you whispered.

“Of what little love?” He asked, leaning back so he could gaze at you.

“Being a vampire… what if I hurt somebody?” You ask in a hushed tone.

“It is entirely possible given the line of work we are in…” he said, trying to make you smile.

You cracked a small smile but concern never left your eyes.

“You’ve got this darling, and I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, always.” He spoke, holding your cheeks and keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You nodded, hands coming up to hold his wrists as he kissed your forehead.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello! Thank you all for 200 followers! What a milestone! I'm absolutely thrilled and beyond thankful. I really enjoy writing for you guys, its become a great comfort and a great hobby. As always, thank you for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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acourtofmoonlightandstars · 5 months

Text

Find me - Chapter 1

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: At a ball you meet the one person you thought you would never see again, you left him once. Will you leave him again?

Word count: Currently no idea

Warnings: Some sugestiveness, angst and minor details of Azriels work as a spymaster.

Note: So this is loosely based on a dream I once had, it was heartbreaking so I thought I might as well use writing as therapy

Chapter 2

The ballroom was huge and the light flickering from the crystal chandeliers that hung above your head made all jewels, sequin and glitter reflect the light. It was a beautiful sight.

You walked through the crowd of people, looking for no one in particular. You had no idea how or when you’d gotten here, you weren’t even quite sure who had invited you. Usually you stayed within the borders of your own court. But it seemed that you’d made an exception for once.

Everyone seemed somewhat familiar. You smiled at the friends who laughed around the tables filled with food as they filled each other goblets with fairy wine, at the couples who snuck away to find somewhere a little more secluded to steal a minute or two and at those who filled the room with laughter that echoed through the room.

As a waiter walked past you, you grabbed a flute of champagne from his tray. You sipped at the bubbly drink as you scanned the room once more, hoping to see at least one person you recognized. And then you spotted him.

He was beautiful in his black suit, it was such a stark contrast from his usual leathers and blue siphons. His wings were tucked close to him, almost as if he was afraid to take up space. His hair was combed back, revealing his forehead and the slight wrinkle he had between his brows. Your breath hitched, and you suddenly wished you were able to turn invisible at will.

You wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and ruffle his hair, once again revealing his somewhat loose curls that you’d once loved to run your fingers through in the late hours of the night. You wanted nothing more than to once again kiss his lips, to taste him.

But you had left him, that much you knew. But you just couldn’t remember why.

His shadows pooled around his feet, and indicated the constant stream of information that was always available to the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. You felt something cold around your ankle, and as you hiked up your skirt you saw the little rouge shadow that had slipped past its master. It almost looked like a puppy happy to be reunited with its owner as it twirled around you.

You giggled, which only seemed to amuse it even more.

In the hope that you could turn it away before he noticed its absence, you looked towards where he had been mere seconds before, and your eyes met his right away. The eyes you had once loved to stare into for hours at the time, the hazel pools of a man you once knew, seemed sad all of the sudden.

It was an emotion that seemed so out of character for him, and you felt your heart breaking a little at the sight of it, especially knowing that you were most likely the cause of the sadness and the purple shadows that hung underneath his eyes.

Azriel furrowed his brows at the rouge shadow as he no undoubtedly tried calling it back to him. But it seemed like it refused to listen to his quiet command. He walked towards you with a confidence that would make lesser males crumble in his presence.

You felt the blush creeping up your neck before it settled in your cheeks.

“Excuse me” he almost whispered, as he went out of his way to not meet your eyes. He bent down and physically yanked the shadow from you. You could’ve sworn it looked almost sad to leave you behind.

He stood up, and quickly turned away from you, almost fleeing. You don’t know what came over you but you grabbed his wrist and saw him stiffen as your skin came into contact with his.

“Y/N… Please, dont” it was an almost silent plea, one who broke your heart, but there was no way you were letting him walk away from you.

You pulled him towards you, forcing him to face you. He had a pained expression on his face and his eyes were closed. Despite of that you still send a small smile his way. Your other hand found his other wrist and you slowly pulled his arms around your waist.

He reacted instantly and despite not even noticing, he pulled you closer to him. “I’m so sorry” You whispered as you raised your hand to his cold cheek. He leaned into your touch as he finally looked at you, a single tear escaping his eyes. Your thumb quickly whisked it away before anyone had a chance to notice it.

The shadows swirled around the two of you desperate to give you some privacy, and even his wings seemed to be shielding the two of you from wandering eyes.

“I don’t know why I left you, I won't ever leave you again, please just give me another chance” you whispered, your voice threatened to crack, as his eyes searched your face for any sign of a deception, any sign of what you were saying, was nothing more than a lie.

“Don’t say things you might regret…”

You shook your head and sent a small smile his way, it was filled with regret and sadness. “It’s always been you and I’m here now and I promise it won't ever happen again”

But were you able to promise him that? You still couldn’t remember why or how you had left him behind, it was like a distant memory that was locked away, one you couldn’t access.

He pulled you from the ground and you couldn’t help the giggle when he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. Desperate for your scent, desperate to feel your heartbeat against his own. “You better mean it” he whispered against your exposed skin.

You pulled at his hair, ruining it even though he had most likely done his best to bend his curls to his will for the event tonight. But you didn’t care, you always liked him better with his bed head anyways.

He kissed his way from that sweet spot where your neck met your shoulder, he nibbled at your ear and kissed you from there, down your cheekbones until his lips hovered over your own. And in a blink of an eye he stole your shallow breaths from your mouth with his own. He ate every whimper and small moan, as if they all belonged to him and him alone, as if it would be the crime of the century if any other male heard it.

“You do know you’re in a public place right? Everyone can see you” the voice was teasing, but in no way cruel. Without letting you down Azriel turned towards the other winged male that now stood in front of the two of you.

Azriel laughed, and his brother realized he hadn’t heard that sound in months.

“I apologize Cass” and he felt you stiffen in his arms, and sent you a reassuring smile, before once again returning you to the ground. He was here, the Lord of Bloodshed, Cassian. But of course he was, they would all most likely be here.

“It’s all good. But Nesta is gonna hate that she skipped this ball tonight, she would’ve loved to see you take a female in front of all these fancy fae”

This time it was your time to laugh, and you flet how your muscles relaxed at his way of addressing the elephant in the room. Azriel couldn’t help but to pull you closer to his side, lips kissing the top of your head.

“So you must be the one who broke my brother's heart” Cassian said as he crossed his arms, to anyone beside you and Azriel, he would look angry, almost disappointed in the way he stood before you. But all you could see was the happiness he held for his brother.

Cassian sent you a small smile. “Don’t worry, I don’t judge, my own mate was indecisive as well”

You couldn’t help but almost wince at his words. It wasn’t that you were indecisive, or at least you didn’t think that was it…

“It’s okay. It all worked out in the end” Azriel said.

The night went on and his hand never left your hip, he pulled you as close to him as he could whenever he felt a male came too close to you. You adored his possessiveness. Now you just needed to feel like you’d earned it.

The two of you spent almost every day together after the ball. It didn’t take him long to introduce you to the rest of his family. The inner circle of the Night Court.

Your father had told you the stories of both their power and their beauty, but despite all the stories, they were kind, welcoming and warm. You felt right at home.

At no point did you regret making contact with him the night of the ball. In fact you could feel yourself falling in love with Azriel, a little more every day.

He adored you, and he spared no expenses in showing you exactly how much you meant to him. Everytime he came home from a mission, he would bring you flowers from the given court. He would either make you homemade meals, or take you out to eat at the most beautiful restaurants in the city.

He would take you on flights over Valaris, on walks near the Sidra or just down to the nearest cafe or bakery to pick up something sweet or warm whenever you felt a little down. Apart from that he spoiled you rotten with gifts, to such a degree you almost had more diamonds than Amren.

You were however your happiest whenever you woke up to him by your side, and nothing beat the beauty that was his eyes as they reflected the morning sun. They were like liquid gold. He was beautiful, and sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all a dream.

As time went on he opened more and more up to you. He told you about his life, both the good and the bad. About his childhood, who he had become after Rhys and Cassian had found him. He told you about his role in the court as both shadowsinger and spymaster, and how he had days where he loathed who he was and what he had done, and others where he celebrated the screams he carved from the lungs of his prisoners.

And despite his fears you didn’t flee or coward when he reached out for you. You had instead held him, and whispered sweet nothing in his ear, confirming that you loved him despite all he had gone through, and that you loved him because of who he was. He had cried in your arms at your words.

You saw him, all of him and you loved both the good and the bad.

At no point had you ever expected to be with a man of his profession, but here you were. The people of Valaris were quick to catch on. They always greeted the two of you, they helped you with picking his gifts and selecting his favorite sweets at the bakery he loved to visit each sunday morning.

The fact that you got to be his in Valaris of all places, was more than enough. Being out and public to all fae, to all courts, would only paint a target on your back. One that he feared would take you from him too soon, whereas you feared that you would be used against him. You had no interest in ever letting it come to that.

After All you wanted nothing more than to protect him, to keep him safe, and he felt the same. He had given you one of his shadows, the rouge that had left his side that night of the ball. After all it seemed like it liked you more than him anyways, but this way he would know if you were ever in any kind of danger.

Nesta had told him it was a little much, especially since the two of you were basically joined at the hip, it was rare that you saw one of you without the other. You were one soul separated into two people. It was clear for all to see.

The inner circle had quickly started making bets on just when the bond would snap for the two of you. And despite the fact that you always rolled your eyes when they began speculating, you couldn’t help but hope that they were right.

Your brother had his mate, and so did Azriels brothers. It would only be right if the two of you had one too right? And if so why wouldn’t the Cauldron grant you eachother? With every fiber of your being you hoped that he was yours and that you were his.

One morning you stood in the courtyard at the house of wind as the sun was slowly rising from its usual hiding place beneath the horizon. Azriel was circling you, wearing nothing but his boots and leather pants.

The look of his tattoos and his muscles were now covered with sweat that was glistening in the morning sun, was enough for you to skip practice and go back to bed with him. You wanted nothing more than to be entangled in him and his scent.

The sun that shone through the fine membrane of his wings made him look like a god of death and war. What a sight to see. He sent you a dazzling smirk as he saw the pure lust and adoration in your eyes. He most likely smelled it on you as well.

You smirked back and sent him a little wave. But it wasn't enough for him to lose focus on his task at hand. It rarely was.

“You look so beautiful angel,” he said. Despite what you might’ve thought he couldn’t help but adore you in the morning light either. He was mere seconds away from abandoning his workout only to throw you over your shoulder and have his way with you. Where that would be, he didn’t care. You chuckled. It was his favorite sound in the entire world, and he hoped that he would always be the one to make you laugh.

And then you felt it. It was as if the world shifted on its axis, it was like it had been so many months ago. It was the same feeling you had the first time you had left him. And as the memories came rushing back to you, you paled.

As your smile dropped and your eyes became distant, almost as if a fog now hid them from the world. “Y/N…?” You heard his fear and desperation as he said your name.

“Promise me you’ll find me, promise me” It was all you could say, you struggled with getting the words out as you felt yourself drifting from this reality. You saw him spring towards you, his wings giving him momentum.

And then everything went dark.

When you woke up the darkness was still surrounding you. You laid there with your eyes closed for a few minutes as you tried to recall his features, his name, where you had been. But there was nothing, nothing except an ache in that place that usually held your heart.

All you remembered was the feeling of running your hands through his hair, how his lips sent electricity down your spine as he kissed that sweet spot right beneath your ear, whenever he snuck up behind you. You remember his rough hands, and a feeling of something cold that you couldn’t quite place. Everything else was a blur.

As you opened your eyes you looked towards the small clock that stood on your bedside table. 06:45. You had to get up soon, but the mere thought of leaving your bed made your head spin. It felt like you had lost something precious, it felt like you had lost your heart, and in its stead there was now only a black hole filled with nothing but emptiness and pain.

You had no idea how to start your day, it felt like you should stay right here, stay at home and mourn the loss of him.

Maybe he remembers, maybe he will be able to find me. You thought as you tried soothing the emptiness in your chest by rubbing the palm of your hand over where it ached.

But how could he? He was after all only a figment of your imagination, he was after all only a character in your dream. But he felt real, and you could nothing but hope that someone, someday would ever love you as unconditionally as he had.

At the other end of Prythian, Azriel Shadowsinger, Spymaster of the Night Court, had woken with such pain in his chest that he for a second had been convinced he had been stabbed in his sleep. And as his dream, no his memories of you, flooded his senses he knew what he needed to do.

You had to be real, he needed you to be real. So he sent out his shadows in search of the one person who now held his heart, the one person he would never stop looking for, you, his mate.

I promise you angle, I will find you

note: aaaaah this is my first ever acotar fic! don't be afraid to leave feedback, I would very much appreciate it! I feel like a part two would be absolutely amazing, but maybe I'll just do it as a stand alone since it's kind of heartbreaking. But we'll see!

#azriel rec #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel #acosf #azriel angst #azriel fluff #azriel mate

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rebelliousstories · 4 months

Text

Did You Know?

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Light Fluff, Allusions to Pregnancy

Word Count: 1,083

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Part Two: I Know Now// Part Three: Somebody Knows// Part Four: What We Know

Summary: Spencer is sent to prison and is waiting on his team to get him out. Meanwhile, his partner is there for morale support.

“It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much preforms much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done.” Vincent Van Gogh

Never in a million years did she think she would be in this position. Getting a call from Emily in the middle of the night was not what she expected. But to be told that her husband is currently in federal custody and awaiting trial, that was another. But she took it as it came. There was nothing she could do for her husband except just to be there for him. She would never be able to get the image of him in handcuffs in the BAU out of her head, but she was glad she was able to hug him.

“Spence. Oh my Spence.” She hugged him over the handcuffs that were hidden with the jacket. His fingertips were just barely able to grasp on to her shirt to pull her as close as physically possible.

“Hey honey. I’m sorry you have to see me like this. How’s my mom?” He whispered into her ear. Spencer was thankful that everyone decided to keep a healthy distance as the husband and wife reunited.

“She’s good. Wondering when you’re coming home, but I am helping Cassie take care of her. I don’t care about seeing you handcuffed, sweetheart. I’m just glad I can see you and hold you.” Her reply made Spencer want to cry. He knew it was not fair to her to have to deal with this whole situation. Stepping back, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips and tried to convey all of the lover she felt into that kiss. Pulling away completely, she watched as he accepted embraces from his teammates.

If only they knew at the time, how much of a roller coaster this was going to be. She sat on the prison bus waiting to be taken to the facility. Being able to see her husband was wonderful, except for the fact that she would be sitting across from him in a cubicle, with a sheet of glass separating them. The bus ride was bumpy, but thankfully it was over quick. Stepping off, her hair was swept away in the windy weather outside.

Walking inside the correctional facility, her eyes kept scanning the room, looking for any threats. A side effect from working for the FBI all those years ago. Now, it only served as a reminder of where she had once been, and of how her husband became that title. She walked up to the reception desk and placed her id down.

“Inmate name?” The officer asked. Her voice was devoid of any emotion.

“Spencer Reid. I’m his wife.” She supplied her name, and waited as the officer scanned a list and then her ID again.

“You’re not on the list. Next!” The officer yelled, pushing the woman off to the side. She stood there dumbfounded as she was handed back her ID, but knew better than to fight with the officer. Her body, especially her heart felt numb as she walked outside and waited for the bus to take her back to the car lot. Why was she denied access to see her husband? JJ was able to see him; so why was she not?

After the numbness wore off, rage fueled her. It kept her going all the way to the FBI headquarters where she signed in for a visitor’s pass silently. Marching her way into the BAU’s office on the sixth floor, she noticed how everyone was still there thankfully. She made her way over to JJ, who was surrounded by Tara, Matt, and Stephen.

“Hey,” JJ greeted, ”how are you doing?”

“Don’t give me that.” She snapped, leaving the agents in a state of shock. Never had she ever snapped, not even raised her voice.

“Whoa, what is going on?” The blonde woman asked, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Did you know?” Mrs. Reid growled, with her patience wearing thin.

“Did I know what? You’re not making any sense.” JJ tried to reason and de escalate the situation, but Emily and David were already out of their offices and looking out at the bullpen.

“Did you know when you went to visit Spence that he had put me on the ‘no visit’ list?” There it was. The million dollar question. JJ remained silent for a minute, but her face did the talking before her words caught up.

“Listen, you have to understand his reasons.” She tried to reach for the woman, but she slipped out of the way.

“You knew? And you didn’t tell me? I just got back from there, hoping to see my husband and check in on him. Only to be turned away at the gate. And you never told me?” Now, she was yelling. It was scary to see the former profiler turned professor yell. She spoke sternly sometimes sure, but she never raised her voice in anger.

“He wants to protect you from the inside. Spence asked us not to tell.” A slip of the tongue and now her fury was leveled to everyone.

“You all knew?” Prentiss and Rossi made their way down the stairs by this point.

“Yes, we did.” The dark haired agent said, walking along with her right hand man.

“Spencer doesn’t want you to see him like that so he asked if we would not tell you that he had put you on that list.” Emily placed her hand on the woman, and it was like her strings were cut. Rage left and was followed by intense depression. Sobs wracked her body as she crumpled to the floor. Emily tried to grab her, but Luke was the one that actually got his arms around her.

There was nothing left for her now. Everything came crashing down around her; her world was shattered. She thought about every interaction that she had ever had with Spencer. There were probably some that she was missing, but she was not blessed with his memory skills. But every major moment came to her at that time. The first time they met, their first date, when he introduced her to his mom, their proposal and wedding. Rubbing her stomach, she wondered when she would wake from this nightmare and be safe in her husband’s arms once again.

Zsa Zsa Gabor said, “To be loved is a strength. To love is a weakness.”

#rebelliousstories #writing #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jereau #tara lewis #stephen walker #penelope garcia #luke alvez

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winterrsun · 7 months

Text

Comfort

Reader x Daryl Dixon

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only

A/n: This is smut but it’s like the fluffiest sappiest smut, it’s meant to be really emotionally gratifying. Also I’ve really kinda half heartedly set it up for a part 2 where they reunite with the group and Rick…let me know if you think I should continue this!

Summary: after the prison fell, you and Daryl start to mourn what you’ve lost and find comfort in each other, both emotional and physical.

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The last couple of weeks had been such a blur. After the prison fell, you were thrown back into survival mode and all sense of security was gone. You never knew where your next meal would come from, or whether you were minutes away from death. You were grateful you’d gotten out in the company of Daryl and Beth; you’d always gotten along with both of them and Daryl was one of the most experienced survivalists. It was nice having Beth to talk to and relate to the experience as well, neither of you being natural outdoorsmen. Even if he was a grumpy ass most of the time, and she was still a bit of a bratty teenager at heart, you’d fast grown extremely reliant on both of them being around you.

You’d all found a small shack to hole up in for a couple of nights, you’d also found a stash of moonshine in the cupboard. Beth had been insistent on trying her first drink. It made you both amused and sad when you compared her experience to your teenage party years, so while Daryl disapproved you thought it was only fair to have your own little party. That’s how the three of you ended up on the living room floor, laughing your heads off.

“Really Y/N, you never been camping?!” Beth questioned incredulously.

“Yer even more a princess than I thought” scoffed Daryl.

“Yeah yeah,” you laughed, “well I suppose my whole life’s a big camping trip now.”

“Alright alright, my turn!” Daryl exclaimed. “I never… bin to a wedding”.

“You what?! Daryl that’s just sad” you said before taking a large swig of the homemade booze.

“Yeah, even I’ve been to a couple. Only other time I drank any liquor, daddy let me have a glass of champagne” said Beth.

“What part of my life was a fucking shit show before all this do you two not get” he grumbled.

You rubbed his arm, “alright we know, just teasing you” you smiled.

Beth’s giggles turned to hiccups, and she eventually lay her head down on the sofa and you realised she’d gone to sleep.

You nudged Daryl and nodded at Beth. He smiled at you, and pointed to the singular bedroom in the shack- suggesting you and he should move into the other room so as not to wake her.

The room was small; a double bed took up almost all the floor space, so you plopped yourself down on it. Daryl followed, carrying the bottle of moonshine with him. He took a sip before passing it to you, who did the same.

“She’ll be right” he gestured to the door, referring to Beth in the other room.

“I know” you replied, “we’ve all been there, she just needs to sleep it off.”

He nodded and you fell into an easy silence, both taking additional sips now and then. You grew pensive, and some of the thoughts you’d been mulling around for days started to come to the surface. The tipsy haze in your brain had your lips moving before you even knew you wanted to share what was on your mind.

“I don’t think I’ve said it,” you said, looking to Daryl, “but I’m so grateful for the two of you. The amount of times I’ve wondered what kind of state I’d be in if I was on my own…”

“Can’t be thinkin like that” he replied gently.

“I know. It’s just, it makes me mad to think about how quickly our circumstances changed. Things were so good Dar, they were finally all coming together. And then…..it’s just nothing in this world can ever really work can it?” You were rambling a little, but Daryl didn’t look like he was going to challenge you or tell you to be quiet. He just looked at you sadly.

“Do you think we’ll ever see any of them again?” You whispered to him. A tear escaped your eye and started to trickle down your cheek.

“I don’t know” he replied, and to your surprise he reached towards your face and softly wiped the tear of your cheek, “but I’m glad we’re here together too”.

He didn’t remove his hand from your face, in fact he gently cupped your chin. You leaned into it, while his head dipped closer to you and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You closed your eyes and allowed the sweet sensation to wash over you.

When he pulled back away he looked unsure of himself, and mumbled a “sorry” to you.

You shook your head, placed your hands on his chest and leaned back toward him, kissing him more deeply this time. His tongue crept into your mouth and started to dance with yours.

Your hands drew up behind his neck as the two of you continued, and he reached for your waist, pulling you into his lap. The kiss grew needier as you straddled him; it wasn’t a need driven by pure sex and physical desire. It was like all the emotions you’d been feeling since the prison poured into your movements, and Daryl lapped them up and returned them with his own. You could’ve been hugging, or crying in each others arms, but instead you were kissing and writhing against each others bodies and it had the same cathartic effect.

You clung onto him as he pulled his lips away from yours briefly, to gently and slowly peel your dirty shirt up from your body. You allowed him to manoeuvre your arms overhead so he could take it off and toss it aside. He then reached around and unclasped your bra, and took a moment to stare at and admire the sight before him.

“You’re beautiful” he almost whispered, starting to run his hands over your breasts and grope them lightly. “I’m gonna take care of you Y/N, I promise”.

You were almost overwhelmed at this moment of pure bliss. You’d never thought there’d be anything sexual between you and Daryl. He was one of your best friends, with a bond like family. Sure he was hot. You’d notice his biceps peaking out of that winged vest and your heart might’ve quickened slightly every time you saw the way he gripped his motorbike handles. But you’d always just been friends.

Let alone the fact that you actually had a thing with his best friend. You and Rick had never defined whatever it was between you, but there was denying when he snuck into your cell nearly every night who you belonged to.

But Rick was gone. You didn’t know where, or if he was even alive, or if you’d ever see him again. It played on your mind every single day. You missed him so much more than all the others, longed for him. You were sick of it eating at you, and you just wanted to feel good for the first time in weeks.

You clawed at Daryl’s shirt, and he took a break from massaging your breasts to help you remove the black tee from his body. You pressed into him as your lips found his again and you relished the feeling of his skin against yours. It felt warm and unbelievably comforting. He began to rub circles on the small of your back and you arched into his touch.

“Daryl” you breathed against his mouth.

“What do you need baby?” He asked, pulling back and grabbing your face in both of his hands, eyes searching yours.

“You…I just need you” you said pleadingly.

Daryl shifted beneath you and lifted you up to flip you onto your back on the bed.

He slowly pulled your pants down and hovered over your torso, looking at your cotton panties. He dipped down and placed a soft kiss on your abdomen, creeping along your hip line. You hummed and wriggled at the tickling sensation, enjoying it. You felt a warmth envelop you from his touches. Then his fingers hooked into the elastic around your waist and pulled the fabric down from your body.

He ran his hand back up your leg, his eyes following the movements before he flitted them up to your face. You made eye contact and he sought the non verbal confirmation that you were okay. You bit your lip in anticipation as you gazed up at him, allowing yourself to be completely vulnerable under his touch. Now fully naked on the bed.

You gasped as his fingers found their way into your fold, and began to gently stroke around. You flinched slightly as he ran over your clit for the first time, and he placed a kiss back on your lips, then trailing down your neck. He began drawing circles around your sensitive nub at a steady but not too fast pace and he lifted his head back up to study your face again.

“So beautiful” he commented. You arched your back off the bed and moan softly. He picked up the pace a little and your pleasure increased.

“Daryl” you gasped, “I need more. I want all of you”.

He nodded, stroked your hair with his free hand before withdrawing them both to unbutton and remove his pants. You lowered your eyes and watched as he freed his sizeable cock from his underpants. You sat up and leaned forward, glancing up at him with doe eyes before attaching your lips to his member.

He groaned as you took him in your warm, wet mouth. You suckled and licked around it, playing with him while lubing him up for you. His hands found their way into your hair, loosely gripping it while you bobbed your head back and forth. He threw his head back and savoured the sensation.

After a little while you pulled away and he gently pushed your shoulder so you lay back on the bed. He braced himself over you and lined himself up, gazing down into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here” he whispered, hovering outside your entrance. You nudged your head up to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Me too” you said softly.

Then he slowly thrust into you. It ached just a little on the way in, but you quickly adjusted to him. For the first time in weeks you felt whole, and human, and like you were capable of something other than simply just surviving as he sank inside you.

You tensed around him and wrapped your legs around his body, which he took as a signal to start pumping his hips in and out of you. Warmth filled your body, radiating from your core to chest at the feeling of connection and intimacy. To your surprise, tears prickled your eyes as you felt emotionally stimulated as much as physically. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit onto Daryl’s shoulder, allowing his warm skin to absorb the moan that left you.

“Don’t need to keep too quiet pretty girl” he said encouragingly. You smirked and let go, noting the love bite you’d left behind before moaning out into the room this time as his hips continued to pound into you.

He pulled out briefly and you were left feeling empty and disappointed, just for him to gently grab your thigh and push your leg back towards your face, hooked behind his arm. He pushed back in and you relished the new, deeper angle.

“Fuuuck, yesss” you hissed and he smirked down at you.

“Feels good baby?” He cooed before grind his hips in a particularly deep thrust and you nodded, moaning in reply.

He picked up the pace now and you felt the heat grow in your belly, driven more by lust at this point. Your climax was building, and it was as if Daryl could tell. He drove into you faster than before, angling his hips upwards to hit just the right spot.

“Dar! I’m gonna” you began-

“I know baby, let go” he soothed.

With an almost scream you came, it rippled through you in waves and he rode it out with you. In this moment nothing else mattered, not the situation you were in, the home you’d lost, the people you’d been seperated from. It was just bliss for a perfect moment.

As your pleasure subsided Daryl snapped his hips into a few more hard times before grunting himself and moving to pull out of you.

“Don’t!” You cried without thinking, holding his hips to yours with your small hands. You felt his dick pulsate inside you as he painted your walls with his cum. It was the last, comforting gesture you wanted to take from him tonight. The feeling of him filling you up as much he possibly could.

His sweaty forehead met yours as he stopped moving, and you felt his penis jerk inside you one last time before all was still. You panted together for a few seconds, before he slowly rolled over to lay next to you.

You felt his ejaculate trickle out of you onto the bed, and groaned at the mess, grinning at him.

He looked around and grabbed a throw blanket from the end of the bed, using it to roughly wipe up you and the linen beneath you. You both chuckled, and he tossed it aside before throwing an arm around you and pulling you towards him to lay your head on his chest.

With your head on his bare skin and listening to the sound of his heart beat and the sensation of his breath rise and fall, you closed your eyes and fell asleep. He planted once last kiss to the top of your head before doing the same.

You woke with a start to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight beginning to creep in through the window, neck stiff from the angle you slept at. You felt chilly and looked down to see goosebumps over your bare body. Not just yours, you noted the extra limbs tangled with yours and remembered the situation you were in. You smiled to yourself, knowing that the amazing night was a once off for you both.

Daryl had just started to stir at your movements on the bed, before you heard movements in the other room. A female voice groaning, before stomping quick footsteps and the sound of coughing and liquid splashing the metal sink. Beth had arisen, and was experiencing her first hangover. You almost would have giggled, except you realised you had to get dressed quick and decide how to explain the two of spending the night in a small room with one double bed.

You looked back at Daryl, now fully awake and judging by the expression on his face thinking the same thing you were.

“Well, back to reality” you whispered with a shrug.

He pulled you in for one last embrace, planting a kiss firmly to your lips before whispering back “thanks for last night beautiful”.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon smut #Daryl x reader #Daryl x reader smut #Daryl Dixon x reader #daryl twd #twd Daryl #the walking dead #Daryl Dixon fic #darly Dixon x you

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posionhaze · 5 months

Text

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

forever yours

❥ summary: you never imagined you’d see him again

pairing: haymitch abernathy x fem! victor reader

warnings: mentions of death | mentions of physical and mental abuse | dark themes | fluff!

genre: reunited lovers | fluff

words: 2k

❥ notes: fic for our favorite drunk

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Haymitch Abernathy.

He was someone you knew well- he was your mentor at a point. The 53rd Hunger Games.

It was weird having him as a mentor, he was so close in age to you, just two years older.

Yet he seemed so much older.

Like he had gone through years and years of pain, which he did in only a short period of time- you’d later go through the same thing yourself.

He barely told you anything about the games, suggested for you to start drinking and run while you can.

You thought he was a complete ass- he was pathetic really.

But during the brief time you had with him, you managed to somewhat enjoy his presence.

His bluntness and “carefree” attitude had certainly felt refreshing, and he managed to make you laugh.

He’d never admit it out loud but he liked you, he thought you were beautiful you reminded him of his late girlfriend that’s the only reason he tried to make you laugh.

It was the second night before the games, you couldn’t sleep. Of course you couldn’t- your death was slowly creeping closer.

You remember hearing a shout from Haymitch’s room- you rushed out of your bed and to his room, flinging his door wide open.

“Haymitch?! Are you alright?” You ask aloud, peeking your head into his room, straining your eyes to try and find him in the dark.

Why were you worried?

Haymitch’s eyes widen when he sees you. He gets out of bed with a huff, walking over towards you and blocking you from coming in- eyes moving up and down your body before he looks back at you.

“It’s almost midnight, you shouldn’t be here” His tone doesn’t come across as harsh, but there is some anger behind it.

“I- I’m sorry..I just thought something was wrong..” You say, awkwardly looking away from him.

He was having a nightmare- of what you didn’t know, and didn’t want to know.

"Nothing's wrong."

Haymitch's tone is flat and emotionless. He is not in a good mood, but seeing your expression makes him soften just a bit.

"But what are you doing up so late? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

“I couldn’t sleep..” You mutter out, “I don’t think I could- or can”

You were scared, scared of not knowing what will happen, scared of now knowing how you’ll die in that arena.

The change in his expression is slight. His lip softens slightly and his eyes flicker with pain, but there is also something else there.

There's a long pause. Haymitch sighs and gestures for you to come inside. "Get in here."

He closes the door behind you and leads you over to his bed, sits down and gestures for you to sit down next to him. He wraps an arm around you, drawing you close to him.

You don’t move away from his embrace, you didn’t know if this would be the last time you’d be in someone’s arms.

“What were you having a nightmare about?” You ask softly- and rather hesitantly, you didn’t know how Haymitch would react to that question.

You knew that when he won his games he was barely living- disemboweled by the other last tribute.

Haymitch lets out a sigh when you ask the question and holds you even closer. The nightmares have been getting more frequent lately, but he can't explain that to you.

He leans his head back on the headboard and is silent for a moment. Finally, he speaks in a quiet voice.

"I was back in that arena."

“Do you ever wish you died in there?” You ask, eyes flickering to dance over his face.

His eyes lock on to yours, there's a haunted look in them. "Every single day."

His voice is heavy and his words are full of emotion. There is so much unsaid, so many things that he never wants to tell anyone.

The nightmares, the depression, the memories. He wants to keep it all buried within himself and never let anyone see.

He did a good job at it- burying it all with alcohol.

“Did your family ever think of you differently after it?” You ask, reaching for his hand to play with his fingers.

Two humans in need of comfort- of reassurance.

Haymitch pursed his lips at your question, “No, I don’t think they did..I didn’t have time to ask them..” He said with a dry chuckle.

The phrasing of his words made you realize- he had no family, at least not anymore.

“I’m sorry..” You whisper out. You didn’t know much about Haymitch’s family, well apparently there wasn’t much to know.

“No need to be sorry.” He says as he tightens his grip on you. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on top of yours.

It had been so long since he'd last felt the comfort of a girl's embrace. He didn’t have the capacity to reject it right now. Especially not when he knew that soon, you would be gone.

“You remind me of her..” He mutters out, looking blankly at the wall.

“Of who?” You ask, shifting to look up at him.

That night you understood why he chose alcohol.

That night you understood why he would’ve picked death in that arena.

Haymitch couldn’t believe what he was witnessing- you made it. There was just one last person alive with you, a career from district 1.

The arena was a forest, it wasn’t a bad place. You were used to forests.

You had spent your time hiding, ignoring the many alliances- you knew they would all end up killed by each other.

You used the little information and help Haymitch gave you and managed to survive till the end.

But you figured out something the Capitol didn’t want you knowing- it was brief, but Haymitch caught on too.

He knew as soon as he saw the other tribute die by your hands he wouldn’t see you again.

A wave of relief and exhaustion washes over you, it was done- you made it out.

You look down at the body of the girl you killed- Goldinia, that was her name.

She was a good tribute, she could’ve won it- but somehow you did. There was a glitch in the Capitols system, that was the reason.

Taking in a breath you let out a laugh- why? You didn’t know.

“I did it Haymitch- I did it..” You whisper out, looking up towards the sky, a smile of relief etched on your face.

You’d see him again, and again. Maybe you could help him? And now maybe he could help you.

Maybe you two could be together.

That’s all you remembered, then it was darkness.

“Well..Ms. L/n, I’m sorry things have to be this way..you could’ve been a great asset to me” Snow says, a smirk on his face.

You blink, looking around at your surroundings. A white room, tiles, your hands and feet tied to the bed you laid on- and Snow in front of you.

“No..no I’m supposed to be with Haymitch..” You say, tugging at your restraints, panic starting to set in.

What would happen to him? Your family?

“Oh don’t worry dear..he’s taken care of,” Snow says with a smile, “Now..let’s talk”

He killed Haymitch? He killed your family.

Days and days of mental abuse, and even physical.

You didn’t know how long it had been- days, months, years?

You were barely alive, at least on the inside- mentally you were gone, amount to nothing.

Then one night you were rescued. You couldn’t recall much from that night- just a lot of shouting and darkness.

“How- how is district 13 still alive?” You ask, looking at President Coin then around the hospital unit.

“We’ve been planning a rebellion against the Capitol, we want you to help us” Coin replies calmly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Can you do that for us?”

Memories of what Snow did to you- of what peacemakers did flash in your mind. “Yes- yes I can”.

Around that time it was the 57th Hunger Games, you didn’t bother watching. You didn’t watch any of the games for years.

You didn’t care, why should you?

“Did you hear the two tributes of 12 both won the games this year?” You overheard some people say in the cafeteria.

Your ears perked up at the mention of that, glancing over you strain to hear more of their conversation.

“Yes! It was incredible..” Another adds on, “I think Katniss is what we needed for this rebellion..” Someone mentions.

You couldn’t help but wonder who was their mentor? It couldn’t have been Haymitch- since he was dead..or well that was what Snow told you.

That’s what Snow wanted you to believe- that’s what he had drilled into you for years, that his death was your fault, that all of it was your fault and that you were worthless.

Maybe he was right.

Haymitch. The man you loved- still love.

“Haymitch?!” You shout, eyes wide as you rush over to the man you recognized walking into the cafeteria.

He looked so different, well of course he did. You two were much older now.

You stop and stand in front of him, eyes dancing across his face- you couldn’t believe it- you couldn’t believe you were seeing him again.

“Y/n..?” Haymitch says, eyes wide in disbelief. With a shaking hand he reaches up to cup the side of your face.

“It’s me..it’s me Haymitch..” You say with a soft smile, tears forming in your eyes. You couldn’t believe he was standing right in front of you.

Haymitch wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him and burying his head in your neck. “You’re alive..”

"Oh god.. you don't know how many times I've thought about you.." He whispers out, only for you to hear. He slowly pulls away from you and holds you at armslength, eyes searching over your body.

You give him a soft smile, running your fingers through his hair. “Are you still an alcoholic like I remember?” You ask with a small chuckle, ignoring the questioning looks of Katniss- you assumed.

"God I wish I could say no." Haymitch replies with a laugh, but doesn't remove your hands from his hair. He notices her watching you two, his eyes flicker over to her before returning back to you.

"Would you believe me if I said the only way I stayed sane was from the thought of you?"

“No- no I really wouldn’t..” You say with a laugh, smiling at Haymitch.

“Uhm- hey Haymitch..who is this?” You hear Katniss ask, confusion written over her face.

“This Katniss..is Y/n L/n, victor of the 53rd Hunger Games and someone I’m very fond of..” Haymitch says with a grin, moving to stand at your side and wrap an arm around your waist.

Haymitch wraps his arm around your waist to pull you against him. Katniss’ eyes narrow at his comment, she hadn’t anticipated his answer to be so..affectionate.

She found it funny to witness her normally angsty and annoying mentor to be so affectionate- even if he wasn’t being that lovey.

“Right okay…” Katniss replies, looking between you and Haymitch.

“This is crazy..” She mumbles out before walking away and off to some tall guy around her age.

“She’s the hope for the rebellion?” You whisper to Haymitch, looking towards him.

“Yes- you’ll like her, she reminded me of you at times..” He says with a small grin.

You smile at his words, leaning into him.

Your Haymitch was alive.

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#hunger games x you #hunger games x reader #the hunger games katniss #the hunger games #thg haymitch #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy

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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months

Note

Can you do something angsty with Kylo ren for the 1k follower event? Like makeup/breakup (or both) preferably with a little 🌶️🥵

Kylo Ren, my favorite sad boy. Maybe it’s because I have such a crush on Adam Driver, but I adore Kylo Ren. Maybe it’s because I love dark side-leaning hotties. (Although nothing compares to Darth Maul but I digress). Now, I (personally) see Kylo Ren/Ben Solo as one person, just different personas, however, for this prompt, we’re talking about Kylo Ren. How would Kylo Ren react to a makeup/breakup scenario?? Honestly? Probably not well. Let’s be real.

Most of these are with gn!reader w/ an exception or two.

Content & Warnings (MDNI): angst, toxic/unhealthy relationships, suggestive themes, possessive behavior, non-descriptive mentions of sex

Word Count: 587

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

First and foremost, with how toxic the First Order is, and everyone wanting leverage on others in order to move up the ranks, Kylo would never be open about his relationship with you. He would do everything in his power to hide his relationship with you for that very reason. It’s almost giving Anakin hiding Padme from the Jedi, but in a different light.

Of everyone that might know, it would be Supreme Leader Snoke. Snoke would absolutely use this relationship to manipulate Kylo Ren. He’d encourage the passion but would also devise ways to undermine Kylo’s relationship with you. He’s basically Palpatine in that regard.

The breakup would come from you, not from Kylo Ren unless Snoke deliberately told him to call it off. Even then, I think Kylo would try to hang on to you. He leans toward the dark side but he’s not Sith. He just wants to belong, and he wants to be wanted.

The breakup isn’t explosive or argumentative. If anything, Kylo appears outwardly calm. It’s almost frustrating for you because you wanted some kind of reaction from him.

It’s the afterward, when you leave, that Kylo loses it. That lightsaber is coming out and heads are rolling. He’ll never unleash his anger on you, but he’ll unleash his anger on stormtroopers, control panels, and literally anything else that might be in his way.

After Kylo has cooled off, he’s going to come after you. This man is determined to hunt you down and keep you by his side, even if you don’t want it. Let’s be real here folks, Kylo’s love is toxic and unhealthy, especially if we’re talking about Force Awakens & Last Jedi Kylo Ren. This man will search the galaxy to find you again.

He’ll do it himself, too. He’s not leaving this task up to stormtroopers or to Hux. Kylo and his Knights are coming after you. Period.

When he does find you again, you put up a fight, but you’re no match for him. Kylo drags you back with him and confines you to a room. It’s comfortable, and you have everything you need, but you’re not allowed to leave.

Kylo visits you often, and in this, he is also calm—to a point. He insists you made the wrong choice, and is fairly reasonable about it. But of course, you push his buttons. Eventually, he fractures, and he’s more like the Kylo we see in the interrogation room with Rey. Kylo has patience, but it’s only for you.

This back-and-forth eventually implodes, coming to a head that only ends with the two of you reuniting physically.

It’s Kylo that acts first. He wants you, and he always wants you to stop talking for a few seconds. Which is why he grabs the back of your neck and draws you in for a kiss.

You don’t fight him. You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. These first few kisses are all soft, and then quickly devolve into insistence.

Clothes are ripped away from bodies until it’s skin-against-skin.

Kylo needs to dominate here. He needs to establish that he’s the one in control and that you only want him.

He won’t force anything. Kylo will never cross that line.

Kylo will need verbal confirmation that you’re his. He might delay or even control your orgasm just to hear you say that you belong to him.

Kylo will make you beg, and won’t give you your end until he’s complete satisfied that you’re his again.

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet

@singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppuff @ninman82

@no-oneelsebutnsu @ferns-fics @beebeechaos @tulipsun-flower @nomercyforthewarrior

@hantheconqueror

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anthurak · 25 days

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So I’ve been meaning to do a post on this topic for a while now, specifically ever since the release of the RWBY Volume 9 Epilogue short had me reevaluating one of my big issues with the volume. Namely this:

Just because a theory or take might work great for one specific character DOES NOT mean it works for the story as a whole.

You might have what feels like a great theory or take for this one character that could make total sense for them and could be great to see.

But ONLY for that character. Because this theory, as great as it might sound on paper, ignores drastic issues and effects that it would cause to OTHER characters or story elements or tone or themes that simply make it non-viable.

Essentially, it’s fandom tunnel-vision making you forget that nothing exists in a vacuum.

Alternatively, it could be taking issue with a certain narrative choice made for a certain character that might feel like it’s not living up to its potential or just being angry that your favorite blorbo didn’t get to do or be this thing you really wanted for them. All while ignoring that this writing choice could have been done to facilitate a much LARGER narrative goal.

So let’s talk about the end of Volume 9 and why I can no longer take issue with the choice to de-age Jaune.

Some might recall a post I did shortly after the end of Volume 9 decrying how Jaune was turned back to his young-adult age. How this felt like a typical ‘magic reset button’ that undid so much of the potential that ‘Old Man Jaune’ had and how it would have been so much more interesting to keep Jaune old and letting both he, the characters and the story explore and grapple with these changes. Essentially, a classic rant about ‘wasted potential’.

HOWEVER… after watching the Epilogue animatic, I get it. I get why CRWBY not only CHOSE to physically reset Old Man Jaune, but why they actually HAD to.

Because that ending scene with Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang and Jaune walking out of Raven’s portal, being reunited with their friends, seeing everything that Ruby’s message accomplished, and that overwhelming feeling of pure HOPE that the volume ends on…

That just wouldn’t have worked with Old Man Jaune.

CRWBY wanted to convey a feeling of pure HOPE and relief and optimism and an unambiguously HAPPY ending, and Jaune coming back as this old man so different from how his friends remembered him would have DEMINISHED that feeling.

As much as I like the idea of Old Man Jaune and don’t like the idea of this kind of ‘magic reset button’, I have to agree that turning him back to young-adult Jaune was the RIGHT choice for what Kerry, Miles, Eddie and the rest of team wanted to do for the end of Volume 9.

And I think there’s a lesson to be learned from that, you know?

That headcanonning might be fun, but if you’re going to be doing real serious theorizing about what you think or hope might ACTUALLY happen in a story, and perhaps even more importantly if you’re being CRITICAL as to what a story has already done, you have to keep a more holistic, ‘big-picture’ viewpoint in mind. Particularly for a complex, long-form story with a lot of moving narrative parts like RWBY.

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #jaune arc #rwby volume 9 epilogue #discussing headcanoning and theorycrafting in fandom #why i no longer have my one actual gripe with the volume 9 finale #why we couldn't keep old man jaune

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tilly-tilly-2827 · 4 months

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Benedict Bridgerton and the Multiverse of Madness

What always puzzled me (and adored) about the characterization of show! Benedict is his emotional maturity. Quoting the amazing Times article, he is a “loyal friend, a sympathetic listener with an open mind, a game and giving lover, and the emotional bedrock of his family”. (Lang, 2024) He’s very emotionally intelligent and sympathetic; the ability to sense his siblings and friend’s discomfort, and soothe them in his own way, the open-mindedness to Granville’s sexuality, the list is endless. I love him.

Now look at Book! Benedict. Although we have his character development/arc throughout the story, when readers first see him in 1817, he’s a complete dick. Arrogant, slightly abusive, manipulative, completely ignorant of Sophie’s insecurities, doesn’t accept Sophie’s rejection. His emotional immaturity toward Sophie is completely different from what show! Benedict is.

However, now that I’ve seen the first half of season 3, I could see how show!Benedict is changing into the Book! Benedict. As @the-other-art-blog (read her great review from here!!) has pointed out, his unnecessary hostility towards the debutants is slightly disturbing. He is bored and exhausted from the society, yet he doesn’t have a purpose in life, giving up on his artistic pursuits. In his season, He meets his love of his life at the masquerade, but she completely disappears from his world. His younger brother is happily married. His elder brother has two sons, so he’s no longer the spare. My guy is in absolute shambles and descending into madness at this point.

So as dickhead book! Benedict could be, he might not be relatable, but he is at least understandable. Benedict is at his lowest point when he reunites with Sophie in 1817; that is why he is so possessive and patronizing towards Sophie. He has to threaten and blackmail Sophie to London because he doesn’t want to let go the only light (Sophie) he found in his miserable life, and he’s already lost the love of his life, he doesn’t want to risk losing it again.

One of the most dickheaded moments in AOFAG?

The lake scene. Love that scene. Very Romantic. However, if you think objectively, seeing Sophie spy on him, Benedict proceeds to kiss her and asks her to be his mistress and tries to take her down on the ground? Knowing that she is a virgin? Absolute chaotic behavior and nothing like the soft, considerate respectful-to-women Benedict we saw in the past seasons. Why is he acting like this? Because at this point of his life, He is absolutely LOSING HIS MIND AND SANITY.

The aggressive “YES!!!” From season 3 Benedict? Oh we are slowly stepping in to the worst side of Benedict Bridgerton. Not the charming, respectful Benedict we have fallen in love with since the past seasons.

This is completely different from the topic that I rambled on, but I’m can’t wait to see the reaction when Sophie rejects Benedict during the pond scene. “I don’t see why not.” “But you wanted to just few second ago.” Imagine the look of confusion and frustration on Benedict’s expression. (In the past, viewers see that Benedict can bring girls to bed with one smirk and a flirty banter,) And as we all well know, Luke Thompson is the mastery of micro-expressions. Would love to see him deliver these lines.

Also, Benedict sleeping around with Lady Tilley, and also with the past ladies really heightens the tension between Sophie and Benedict, especially on the point of physical intimacy. For Benedict, he just likes to have fun, having sex is just light and breezy. So of course he would have no problem fucking an innocent girl who seems to like him back. In outdoors. On the FUCKING GROUND. However for Sophie, physical intimacy is almost like a sin; She can’t repeat the tragedy of her mother and make another human being suffer from the baseness of their birth. Ben and Sophie are perfect for each other, but Their polar opposite perception towards physical intimacy creates so much conflict and tension between the two. This point is also what differentiates Benophie from other couples, especially compared to Polin.

Benedict and Sophie are soulmates, two lost drifting souls finding solace, comfort and love in one another, but there is a deep rift between them that they have to overcome.

The angst in AOFAG is just pure drama.

Any thoughts? Love to hear your ideas too🥰🥰

I’m further rambling on in the comment section 🥶

References

Lang, Cady. Why Benedict is the Best Character in Netflix's Bridgerton | TIME, 2024

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benophie #sophie beckett #an offer from a gentleman #benedict x sophie #luke thompson #just my thoughts #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton season three

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thegettingbyp2 · 6 months

Note

Hi! I saw that you have requests open for Buck/Gale Cleven! I was wondering if I could get a nurse! reader x Gale Cleven reuniting after the war? Just something really cute and fluffy w/some angst? If not, no worries :) Thank you for your time!

A/N: Hi! I've combined this with a request about the reader being friends with Bucky as well, I hope that's okay!!

I'll Always Come Home to You

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Being a nurse during the war, you were used to horrific images. However, nothing could have prepared you for what it was like to be a nurse on base for the 100th Bomber Group. Those boys came back down broken, both physically and emotionally and it was your job to put them back together. Whilst you hated seeing all of the boys hurt, every time you saw the planes coming back you prayed that Buck Cleven wouldn’t be coming through the doors to the infirmary and that he was fine.

You couldn’t put into words your feelings for Buck Cleven. You met him the night before his first mission. He’d gone for a walk to clear his head and he just so happened to stumble across your secret hiding place at the edge of the base where you’d go whenever you needed some peace and quiet.

‘Sorry,’ he said as soon as he realised that someone else was there. ‘I didn’t think anyone was going to be here, I’ll just go and - ’

‘It’s fine,’ you interrupted, hauling yourself back to your feet, ‘I can go.’

‘Well, why don’t we both sit here?’ he suggested, lowering himself down and gesturing for you to do the same next to him.

‘I’ve seen you on the base, you’re one of the pilots right?’

‘Major Gale Cleven,’ he replied, holding his hand out to you. ‘But all of my friends call me Buck.’

‘Nurse (Y/L/N),’ you shook his hand, smiling at him softly. ‘But my friends call me (Y/N).’

Since then, that hidden spot became yours and Bucks meeting place. It was the place where you knew you were able to be alone with no threat of anyone to interrupt you, it was the place you’d had your first kiss and it was the place where Buck had told you that he loved you for the first time.

But, now, it was the place you went to remember the love of your life.

You hated whenever Buck took off to fly a mission, terrified that he wouldn’t come back. But, when he’d successfully flown his 22nd mission, you let yourself relax a little, knowing that he’d already beaten the odds and was more than likely going to be able to go home, taking you with him like he’d promised so many times.

However, the pilots came back from his 23rd mission, you were so busy in the infirmary, treating all of the other men that you hadn’t been able to wait to see if he’d made it back. It wasn’t until Harry had come to find you as you were making sure that everyone was resting that you found out that he hadn’t made it.

‘(Y/N),’ Harry said quietly as he walked up to you, his hat in his hands as he looked at you sadly.

‘Hi Harry,’ you said, panting slightly from where you’d been rushing around tending to everyone. You turned to face him, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. ‘What’s wrong? Are you hurt?’ you asked when you saw the look on his face, your eyes automatically scanning down his body looking for any sign of injury.

‘I’m okay, I just need to talk to you about something.’

‘Sure, go ahead!’ you encouraged, smiling at him.

‘(Y/N), it’s Buck.’

‘What do you mean? Where is he?’ you asked, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion as your eyes started to dart around, looking for Buck.

‘His plane took a direct hit and he went down over, Bremmen. I’m so sorry, (Y/N).’

As soon as the words left Harry’s lips, it felt like your entire world turned grey and your blood started rushing in your ears as you felt your eyes fill with tears. You couldn’t remember anything else from the conversation with Harry and you rushed out of the infirmary, running straight into a broad chest. Looking up, you felt yourself shatter, tears streaming down your face as you were met with Bucky’s tear filled eyes. Seeing Buck’s best friend crying seemed to make it real. Buck was gone. Your Buck was gone.

‘Bucky,’ you started before your sobs took over and Bucky instantly pulled you into his arms.

‘I know,’ he replied thickly, kissing the top of your head.

Dating Buck automatically led to Bucky being around all the time and you’d found that the two of you had grown pretty close in a short period of time and you now thought of Bucky as your best friend too. So, when, on the next mission, you heard that Bucky’s plane went down, you were sure that your whole world collapsed in on itself. You’d lost your boyfriend and your best friend in such a short space of time you weren’t sure how you were going to survive it.

After hearing of Bucky going down, you were made to take some time off so you would have time to process and grieve. However, instead of going home, you spent the few weeks tucked away in your little hide out spot; the last place you were with Buck.

When you returned back to work, you still felt hollow but you forced yourself to persevere. There were still pilots that were going out and flying dangerous missions, all who needed you to be there for them when they came back injured. Even though you went back to work and began to pretend for everyone else that you were okay, you still returned to that spot every night.

On the one-year anniversary of Buck’s plane going down, you spent the day there, wrapped up in one of his jackets as you let yourself mourn. You allowed yourself this one day to hide away, to let your tears constantly fall freely down your cheeks. You wrapped the jacket tighter around yourself as you felt your eyelids grow tired and heavy as you fell asleep surround by the scent of Buck that still, somehow, clung to the jacket.

You woke up, panicked when you felt fingers trail across your cheek, sitting bolt up right and being hit by a wave of cold as the jacket fell from your shoulders.

‘Hey, hey, you’re okay!’ a hushed voice exclaimed and, when the blurriness faded from your eyes, you were met with Buck sitting in front of you, his eyes tired, his blonde hair messy and cuts and scrapes across his face.

‘Buck?’ you whispered, not believing that he was sitting right in front of you after a whole year had passed.

‘It’s me, baby,’ he said softly. You tentatively reached your hand out, still scared that he was going to disappear, until your palm pressed against his chest. His hand instantly came out to rest on top of yours, pressing your hand further against his chest until you could feel his heart beating underneath your palm. As soon as you felt it, tears rushed to your eyes and a gasp escaped your lips as you threw your arms around him, your tears streaming down your cheeks.

‘I thought you were dead!’ Your voice was muffled in his neck as you breathed him in and Buck’s arms wrapped around your body, holding you against him tightly, neither of you willing to let go of the other for a second.

‘I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,’ his voice came right next to your ear. ‘The plane went down and me and a bunch of the other guys ended up in a Prisoner of War camp.’ You felt your blood run cold at his words and you pulled back to look at him. Your hand came out to cup his cheek and you felt your eyes fill up once again. Seeing this, Buck was quick to pull you into him until you were sitting in his lap as he tilted your head up to look at him. ‘A couple months after that, Bucky turned up and - ’

‘Bucky’s alive?’ you asked in shock.

‘Yeah, baby, he’s okay,’ he murmured, brushing your tears away with his thumb before tucking your hair behind your ear. ‘I thought I wasn’t going to see you again and I couldn’t stand the idea of dying without seeing you one last time. So, we got out. It was hard, but we got out and the only thing that was keeping me going was knowing that I was coming home to you. I’ll always come home to you, baby.’

Not knowing what to say, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The moment your lips brushed against each others, both of your bodies sank into each other as his arms tightened around you. You couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling from your lips when you broke the kiss and pressed your forehead against his. ‘I’m going to hold you to that.’

#gale cleven #gale cleven x reader #gale cleven imagine #buck cleven #buck cleven x reader #buck cleven imagine #masters of the air #austin butler

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