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aethelwyneleigh27 · 19 days

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Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 year

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Colored Bullets

Summary: BAU team x agent fem!reader. All fun and games until one of the BAU members gets shot... with a paintball.

WARNING: nothing besides mention of guns (paintball) and shooting, just a silly time with the BAU team

found the gif somewhere round the web, so whoever created this credits to u :))

None of you knew how things ended this way. Not even someone who pranked death like Emily could explain the maroon smears that horrifyingly decorated every crooks and crannies in the bullpen.

"I don't think I can take it anymore," Spencer cried as he leaned his back against the foot of his desk, hiding under his once peaceful workplace.

A bruise was forming on his temple, and another by his neck. He was a mess. His hair flew out like a birds nest.

"You better not give up on me, Reid. Or I will shoot you myself." Emily growled, peeking out to fire a shot. Her ponytail was loose, dried yellow paint spreading on the left side of her head.

"What the fu—" Derek groaned from another end, also hiding under his desk. He felt the pang of Emily's bullet on his shoulder, wondering when everything went wrong.

In fact, all of you were taking shelter under your desks. Albeit, you sharing yours with JJ, who had a maniac smile on her face as she fired her gun in whatever direction she could.

The bullpen was painted red. A dead battlefield. God knows what the midnight janitor would think when he finds the place drowning with fired bullets and various bright paints.

And just before you were about to shoot Spencer's ugly crying face, Rossi swung the glass door open.

"I don't want to know." Rossi immediately stated.

All of the agents stood up, a special mention to Derek, who hit his head midway. You snorted at that, and continued a laugh when he glared at you.

Rossi's eyes roamed all over the bullpen, taking note of your bruised faces and paint-splattered vests. He looked at all of you disappointedly, "None of you can wait for tomorrow's paintball match?" He immediately knew that asking was a big mistake.

"Derek started it!" You roared immediately.

"What?! It was Emily! She shot me—" Derek pointed a finger towards the dark-haired woman.

Emily rolled her eyes, "I wouldn't have started it if JJ didn't pull the trigger and accidentally shot me." She air-quoted with her gun clutched under her ring and pinky finger.

JJ's jaw dropped, frowning her eyes at Emily. "It was an accident! Spencer was asking how to use the paintball gun."

"And I regret it. I don't feel like joining the team tomorrow." Spencer placed his small gun on his desk and hooked his messenger bag over his shoulder. He survived worse before, but a war with his friends without hesitation was more traumatizing than being kidnapped.

And all of you began to blame each other like children, shouting over one another. Rossi winced at the sound of all of your voices. He couldn't believe that after three wives, the thing that made him want to smash his head on the wall, was all five of you.

“And I just had to ask.” Rossi muttered to himself, closing his eyes as he placed a hand over his forehead. He silently retreated back to his office.

But before he could even step on the first stair, a hard impact spread on his back. Rossi turned around with furrowed eyebrows. Someone did not just mess with his suit.

Everyone’s index fingers synchronously pointed towards you, a fake innocent look over your face as you held your paintball pistol.

"You will regret this, Kiddo." Rossi sped to his office to grab his paintball gun, simultaneously dodging your fires that ran after him.

And you finally got to shoot Spencer, much to everyone's enjoyment. He took his gun and shot you back, straight on your chest. “Oh, you’re on, smarty pants!” You scoffed, reloading your gun as fast as you could.

Meanwhile, Hotch just stepped out of the elevator, coming back from a meeting and unaware of what lies behind the double glass doors. “Of course, Jack. You can wear my vest for tomorrow’s paitball tournament.” He was about to walk in the bullpen when Penelope blocked him.

Hotch knitted his brows, giving her his signature stern confused look. "Save yourself. It's war in there." Penelope said in horror, peeking through the glass door and squealing at the sudden splatter of red paint right in front of her eyes.

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holdmytesseract · 11 months

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So, there's this song that I've been listening to non-stop.

Kind of an oldie...with Robbie Williams. LoL.

I imagine a scenario in my head of Reader and Loki who were once in a relationship and had a falling out (because of whatever reason - maybe of his insecurities). But he sees that the Reader is fine after the break up (she isn't really, she just acts like it) and it bothers him that they moved on so quickly.

But he tries to get her back because he really does love her 😍. I thought this would be so cute.

Resurrected Love

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: What once had been undying love between you and Loki, had seemingly turned into dust. After the breakup, the god just isn't himself anymore; barely coping with losing the love of his life. Unlike you. You seem to be just fine; having moved on quickly. Or was it just an illusion? Nevertheless, Loki decides to try to get you back. Will he be successful?

Warnings: sadness and heartbreak, thirst? angst, swear words? suggestive smut, fighting/shouting, fluuuff - tell me if I forgot something!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: Ahhh first of all, I'd like to apologise... Sorry @mochie85 that this took me SO long... 🥺 Thank you again for making me the incredible Baby Fever mood board! 🥰 I hope you like this little present I got in return! ☺️💝

Tagging: (In the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The blaring sound of the alarm clock ripped the sleeping god out of his peaceful slumber. Groaning, Loki moved his hands from underneath his pillow and instead buried his head underneath said pillow. Bare, muscular arms pressed down on the soft, fluffy cushion; trying to drown out the noise. In vain.

A deep, husky grumble left his sore throat, before he reached out blindly to shut off the alarm. Tossing and turning in the bed, he came to lay on his back; big palms running over his face and rubbing his tired eyes. A few rays of sunshine peeked through the emerald green silk curtains; illuminating his small, cosy bedroom. Loki sighed and stretched; causing the light duvet to expose his bare torso. His gaze was directed towards the ceiling; idle and aimless. The god could still feel the tiredness and exhaustion in his bones. Not his physical, though. His mental exhaustion. It just wasn't the same since you were gone. Since you packed your bags and walked out of his apartment. Out of his life. He could sleep for hours and yet he didn't find rest. His bed was so small, but without you he was afraid to get lost in it.

Not even five minutes later, his alarm clock told him again to stand up - and he had no other choice but to give in. Shutting it off, he sat up in bed and rolled out of the comfortable confines. Sighing, he pulled the curtains to let the first rays of sunshine into his bedroom, before he slumped to the bathroom. Dressed in nothing but black briefs, Loki came to stand in front of the mirror of his cabinet, hanging above the sink. He couldn't help but to look at himself. Look at the picture of misery he had become. Dark rings were underneath his eyes. His hair was tousled and resembled more a bird's nest, than a glorious, untamed mane of a god. Fingertips grazed his cheeks and chin; feeling the black, scratchy stubble which had grown so wildly. He had let himself go since you were gone - and he knew it. But it had been pointless. Sure, eye circles, messed up hair and a wild beard was nothing a bit of seidr couldn't fix, but... It couldn't fix his broken heart, so what was the point in using it?

Nevertheless, the god was forced to regain his 'good looks'. There was a very important meeting today. A meeting he couldn't skip like the last ones. Thor would bite his head off, if he wasn't going to appear. After all, this meeting was about his future... With another deep sigh, Loki went to work. He took a shower first; cleaning his ethereal body and godly locks. After that, he shaved; getting rid of his beard. Once his skin was as smooth as it could get and clean shaven, he got dressed; slipped in one of his finest suits. Loki absolutely wasn't in the mood to leave his apartment - but he had to. And so, the god closed the door behind himself, already regretting it.

Absent-minded Loki walked through the white, plain hallways of the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters; on his way to meeting room number 204. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, and so it came how it had to come. The god ran into somebody. His hard, strong chest collided with a way smaller, softer body. "Norns," Loki cursed under his breath, "Apologies. I don't know what-" but stopped dead in his sentence, when he registered who he ran into. "Y/N..." Your name fell from his lips so easily, and yet it felt like he was committing a crime.

You were standing in front of him, like frozen to the ground. It was the first time he was seeing you since the breakup almost a month ago. Sure, he hadn't left his apartment in that time, but he had heard from his brother that you had been away a few weeks on vacation - and it seemed like it did you really good. Of course couldn't the god help himself but to ran his eyes over your body. You wore your familiar shield uniform. The one he had ripped off your body countless times. Your Y/H/C hair was loose; framed your face beautifully. Unlike Loki's face, yours looked well-rested and refreshed. No bags or dark circles underneath your eyes. All in all, you looked recovered and yes, happy. Not in the slightest hurt or broken - like him. His eyes travelled upwards. Loki knew he was on a self-destructive path, but what was he supposed to do? His heart was screaming at him; yelling from the top of his lungs to give into it. Oh how much he loved you. Still. And then it happened. His deep blue eyes collided with your Y/E/C ones - and suddenly he felt like drowning; the world burning to ashes right in front of him. It brought back everything. All the memories. Good ones and bad ones. And all the pain.

"Lokiii!" You yelped, as he wrapped both his strong arms around your thighs and lifted you off the chair; hindering you from decorating the Christmas tree with another bauble. "Let me down!" Smiling, the god shook his head and tightened his grip a bit - only to let you know that he had you. To show you that he would let nothing happen to you. "Not until you finally speak your mind, darling." "W-What do you meeeeean?" You shrieked up, as Loki carried you away from the safety of the chair. "Tell me, if we can finally call ourselves a couple." You blinked down at the handsome god, who threw you that smouldering look which turned your knees into jelly. "I-I, uh..." He smiled again, winking. "Come on, darling." You couldn't help but giggle; shaking your head. "Lokes... We didn't even have our first kiss!" "Oh, that can be changed in a heartbeat," he purred and let you down quickly. Before you could even catch up to what was going on, his perfectly shaped lips danced with yours.

"L-Loki, p-please, I-" You moaned helplessly; writhing on the sheets beneath him. "Shhh, my goddess," he shushed you immediately; interrupting you. "Don't speak. Just feel," Loki panted; nipping at the inside of your thighs, before hypnotising blue eyes meet yours; pupils blown wide with lust. The god wore a smouldering, yet dangerous smile. A predator looking at his prey. You were completely at his mercy - and you loved every second of it.

Your hand found its way into your lover's hair; finger winding through those long raven curls. You gently tugged; nudging him on to finally do something. "Please..." You whispered; breathless. The hairs on the back of your neck raised up, when Loki gave you another smouldering smile, before he lowered his head. Your breath hitched; a chill ran down your spine at the anticipation. You knew what was to come - but you'd be never prepared for it.

"Darling, please." Loki's voice was unstable, pleading; on the verge of breaking - filled with pain and regret. Tears shimmered in his eyes. Tears of despair. Not hope. He felt like the ground fell out from underneath his feet. He was losing his grip; felt like falling into an abyss of darkness - blindly.

You shook your head, as you threw the last item of clothing in your suitcase. "No, Loki. No. Don't 'darling' me. Please don't make this even more difficult as it is." The god watched you helplessly; running a hand through his hair. "If it is so difficult for you, then why don't you just stay?" He sounded so sad. So... desperate. You swallowed hard; jaw clenching in order to suppress your own tears, before you turned to face your now ex-boyfriend. You looked him straight into the eyes, but with the seconds ticking by in silence, you avoided your gaze again - unable to stand the hurt, wounded look in his blue orbs. "Because I can't, Loki. I just can't. Don't you see? I cannot do this any longer." Now it was Loki who swallowed. "I-I understand that, lov- Y/N, but please... Give us another chance. Let us keep fighting for this love!" You snorted out a bitter laugh at his words; "Fighting, he says..." shaking your head. "I already fought so hard and long for this! For us! But apparently you were too blind to see." Your nerves were on edge; stressed out by the past weeks. "I tried and tried and tried to get through to you, but all you ever did was shut me out!" Loki wanted to answer something; opened his mouth to speak, but you immediately cut him off.

"Don't you dare pull the 'I don't understand you' card now! Because it isn't true! I do understand you! I always did! This was never our problem!" You were almost shouting by now; all the bottled-up emotions exploding within you. "You know what the problem is, Loki, huh?! You know what?!" His chiselled jaw flexed. You could tell that he was losing it as well. "Tell me, Y/N! Tell me!" He shouted; gesturing around wildly. "Scream it to me, if you have to!"

You took a few dangerous steps closer, before whispering: "Your damn insecurities." Loki gasped; almost stumbling backwards. This hit hard. Bore a knife straight through his heart - and yet he knew, that it was true. And the realisation of it made him even more angry. On himself. His hands clenched into fists; desperately trying to keep his cool. Unsuccessful.

An almost maniacal laugh escaped his lips. "Oh, I am the problem now?!" "Yes! Because you never managed to let your damn guard down around me! We've been together for over almost two years and you still don't trust me enough to just let me in! I know that your childhood and past was not easy and quite dramatic, but you can't just hide yourself away from the rest of the world for eternity!" You snapped; taking deep breaths and let the accusing words you just spat at Loki sink in. Loki said nothing; just stared at you. "Because if you do, it's going to eat you up inside someday..." You added in a way quieter voice; almost whispering. Then you returned to the bed, in order to zip the suitcase shut.

Behind you, Loki sunk to his knees; the harsh truth and reality finally hitting him full force. He knew. He had always known, and yet he couldn't bring himself to open up. He tried to fight his demons a million times, but he always lost the fight. He should've tried harder - better, because now... Now it was too late. He had lost you - because of his insecurities. Tears streamed down his face, as he started one last attempt to stop you from walking out of his life. "Y/N, p-please, please... I am so sorry, I am so sorry. Please... I-I can't lose you. If you leave m-me now... I-I'll drown a-and sink."

You swallowed hard; tried to fight against the desperate screams of your heart to stay. You had never seen him so... lost and vulnerable before. It tore at your heartstrings. But you had to do this now. There was no going back. "I'm sorry, Loki, but like I said... I can't. I can't keep fighting against the walls you have built up around you." With those words, you walked past him, "Goodbye, Loki." and out of his bedroom - out of his life. It broke him and his heart. He was nothing more than a wreck after that day.

Loki swallowed hard at the vivid memories, playing out in his head. He had to fight hard to not lose it completely in front of you and to not break down and cry. As for you, you seemed to be completely fine. "Loki." You said in a regal voice, giving him a nod - as if you didn't have a whole lot of history together. As if you never had told each other all of your secrets and wishes. As if you never had shared the deepest bond possible between human beings - mentally and physically. You greeted him like you were nothing more like acquaintances. It hurt Loki; bothered him, how quickly you had moved on. So, he tried to hide his emotions and not letting show how much of a wreck he was.

"What..." His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat quickly. "What brings you here?" The god asked; gesturing blindly towards the meeting room. "I, um, I was assigned to overwatch the meeting." Loki's eyes widened at your words, so you quickly added: "Believe me, I don't like it, too, but it is how it is." Don't like it too? Loki asked himself. Norns, he could've screamed from the top of his lungs how happy he was about this. Just to be able to see you without an excuse for a longer amount of time was like heaven for him. He wanted to answer something, but was interrupted by the arrival of Nick Fury, some of the Avengers and a few other S.H.I.E.L.D agents. "Loki, Y/N," the man with the eyepatch greeted you, before he opened the white, wooden door for everyone to get inside. "Let's get over with this, Laufeyson." Loki swallowed hard, then nodded obediently and stepped inside the big, barren room.

Throughout the whole process, Loki couldn't focus. His thoughts were circulating around you. It was all he could think about. He was so absent-minded; he didn't even listen to the others talking. Only the voice of Fury caused the god to snap out of his trance like state. "Well... It seems everybody has the same opinion..." The man with the black coat started, before he turned to face Loki directly, who sat at the very top of the table. "S.H.I.E.L.D and the United States of America allowing you to stay - as long as you're going to play by the rules." Loki swallowed and nodded - still not entirely present in his mind. "You improved; did a great job as an Avenger. Keep it up, Laufeyson."

Fury's words were the last ones of the meeting. Most agents scrambled to get out of the room; having other duties to tend to. Most of the Avengers clapped Loki on the shoulder or gave him a short nod of approval - and you? You were watching him from the sidelines. Seeing him again after almost a month had caused your feelings to run wild again. They were so quiet and chilled during and after your holiday, and now? Just one look was enough to set everything on fire again; storms battling within you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry - but most of all, you wanted to run. That's what you did. You fled from the meeting room; unable to be in his presence a second longer. When Loki settled his look on the chair you sat in, it was empty. Scanning the room for you wasn't fruitful as well. He sighed. You had left already, of course. Why shouldn't you? It had been nothing more than a job for you. Nevertheless, it was another small cut into Loki's already bruised and battered heart.

From that day, where once again his fate had been decided, he started to see you more often. Probably because he left his apartment more often as well now. He started to find hope again and decided to not just give up on you. Loki had made that mistake once - and he'd never let it happen again. He wasn't just giving up. Oh no... Now he was really going to fight for you, because one thing was certain... He still loved you with all his heart and he wanted you back. For good this time.

Over the next days and week, Loki repeatedly placed little cards, gifts or flowers in front of your office in the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. It was an easy task for him to sneak incognito inside the big building. Nobody knew and nobody recognised him. At first, you were quite confused and surprised...

You hurried to your office; messily rearranging the weapons belt around your waist on the way. You were late. Ten minutes already. Your alarm clock just decided to take a vacay today and not wake you up. "Morning, guys. Good morning." You hastily greeted everybody on your way. Once you reached your destination, you almost stumbled over the little bouquet of flowers, laying in front of the door. Y/F/F (Your favourite flowers) - your favourites. Frowning and a bit surprised, you picked the flowers up; admiring them. There was no card or such. Just the flowers. "Uh, Rob?" You asked your fellow agent, who was just passing by your office. His office was directly across yours. "Oh, hi, Y/N. Good morning." "Morning. Uh, do you know who left those flowers for me?" The man shrugged his shoulders. "Unfortunately, not, no. Sorry." "Okay..." Still frowning, you took the flowers in your office. Of course you didn't notice the craftsman, who worked on the water dispenser right beside your door. He watched you disappear inside the room with oceanic blue eyes, smiling.

That was only the start. Every day, you'd find different things on your door step. Your favourite chocolates and other sweets. Cards with little poems written on them and quotes out of books. And more flowers. Every day, you went to work with an even brighter smile, knowing that a small present was waiting for you.

You picked up the little box and opened it; finding a bottle of your favourite perfume inside. A chuckle sounded from across your office. "I think you have a secret admirer, Y/N," stated Rob, gesturing to the little present with a grin. Your cheeks reddened; nodding. "I, uh, think so too." You felt really flattered, but... Were you ready for something new? For another man after Loki? Could you imagine another man in your life who wasn't the handsome, mischievous god? You swallowed hard; staring down at the little vial in your hands. No. No you couldn't.

"Do you know who it is?" Asked Rob further, but you just shrugged your shoulders. "No, I... I have no idea. Most likely one of the other agents." Rob nodded, "Think so, too." but frowned. "You don't look really happy about it." Once more you shrugged your shoulders; sighing. "I am. I mean, it's really sweet and thoughtful, but..." "But?" Your colleague looked at you expectantly, but you didn't answer at first. And suddenly Rob had a guess. "Loki... You are still not over him, right?" Defeated, you nodded. "I never was and I think I'll never be. It seems like every decision I make, every path I choose to walk on... Everything leads me back to him. I can't forget him..." Rob looked at you compassionate. "Sounds to me like Loki is the love of your life..." You swallowed hard, in order to suppress the upcoming tears. "He is. I realise that now. Too late, perhaps..." "Do you still love him?" Rob questioned you further, "Y-Yes. I do." and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Then you should tell him." "I-I don't know, I... Excuse me." You fled into your office, closing the door behind yourself. All the suppressed feelings coming back at you; crashing down on you like warm summer rain. It was overwhelming. But could you do it? Could you go back to him?

Unbeknownst to you, Loki had heard everything. Dressed up as an electrician on his daily undercover mission. His heart beat violently against his ribcage; yearning and crying out for you. It broke him to see you so broken - but it also made him unbelievably happy, because he knew now, that you were struggling just as much as he was. That you had worn a mask all the time and just pretended to be perfectly fine. It was the sign for him to finally make his move and get you back. Back into his arms, where you belonged.

It was Saturday evening, when Loki put the plan he made into action. He showered; then dressed up in your favourite suit of his. It was a black one. Black shoes, black trousers and black shirt. He rolled up the sleeves and left a few buttons undone - just how you liked. He applied a bit of the cologne you enjoyed to smell on him so much; and left his untamed raven curls hang loosely over his shoulders. Loki looked at himself in the full-length mirror; eyes travelling down his body. Perfect, he thought; smiling. Grabbing the bouquet of red roses on his dining table, he left his apartment and went straight to yours. To his luck, you lived in the Avengers tower as well. Benefit of being Ms. Romanoff's best friend.

Taking a deep breath, the god knocked gently on your door. The answer he received was a frustrated sigh. "Naaat, I told you I'm not in the mood tonight to go-" You had literally ripped the door open - and were now standing open-mouthed, with a bathrobe and tousled hair in front of your ex-boyfriend. You swallowed. There he stood… Your drop-dead gorgeous ex-boyfriend. "L-Loki?" You stammered out; clearly not expecting something like that to happen. The god smiled at you. "Hello, darling. Apologies for the disturbance, but... I'd like to talk to you. May I come in?" Blinking and still in some kind of shock, you nodded. Stepping aside, you let him inside. "For you," he said, once you closed the door and turned to face him. He held the flowers to you; still smiling. "U-Um, t-thank you." You hesitatingly - almost shyly took the flowers from his hands. A chill was running down your spine, when his warm, big hands grazed yours. A touch you haven't felt in weeks - months, and immediately noticed you missed a lot.

Taking a deep breath, you placed them on the little shelf beside the door. "What, um, what do you want to talk about?" The god standing opposite you swallowed hard. You could see how nervous he was - a rare thing to happen. "About us." "U-Us?" He nodded, "Yes. Us." and stepped closer; slowly taking your hands in his. Loki waited for a moment to see if you weren't comfortable with him, touching you - but you let it happen, so he continued. "First of all, I'd like to apologise. For everything. For letting you fight so hard and long without me realising. For not opening up to you like I should have, because you are right. If I don't learn to talk to the person I trust and love most in all the nine realms, then my past and all my insecurities are going to eat me up inside. I see that now." He was gazing directly into your eyes - and you could swear you were already drowning again inside those oceanic blue orbs. "I came to the realisation those past weeks, that I am not able to live without you. Without your love. I feel like I can't breathe when you're not near me. Your absence suffocates me. I love you with all my heart and soul. You are everything I ever wanted and needed. So please... Please give us another chance. I beg of you." You just looked at him, stunned; words failing you. "

"This is what my heart tells me," he continued, squeezing your hands gently. "If yours doesn't speak the same language anymore, then please, tell me - and I'll walk out of that room." Your gaze softened. You freed one hand from his gentle grasp and lifted it up to caress his defined cheek. "Loki..." You started, shaking your head. "My heart never stopped speaking your language. Never." The god gasped at your touch and words. "Does that mean you'll give us another chance?" You smiled; nodding and stepped closer to him. So close, that you were just a few inches apart. His hand left yours; coming to rest on your waist, while your palm wandered to land on his chest. "Yes, Loki..." "Really?" He breathed; overwhelmed by your sudden closeness, and, again your words. Once more you nodded; signalling him that you meant it. "Oh, darling," Loki sighed; a few tears rolling down his cheek. He leaned down, wanted to capture your lips with his - but you stopped him; placing a finger upon his lips. "I'll give us another chance - if you promise to trust me completely and finally open up to me." His eyes met yours again; blue eyes filled with love and vulnerability. "Let me help you, my love. Let me sooth all those scars your past has left on you," you whispered and pressed a soft, slow kiss on his lips. "I promise, darling, I promise - and I'll start tonight," Loki said, placing another kiss on your lips, before he took a step back and took your hands in his bigger ones again.

"Close your eyes, please." You were confused, but did what he asked you to do; closing your eyes. Suddenly, you felt how his hands got cooler; temperature dropping. "This time, I want to go into this relationship with showing you all of me. I want you to see me." You frowned, but kept your eyes closed. "And I don't mean me, being naked. You saw that quite often already." You couldn't help but giggle at his words; blushing. Loki smiled. Something you weren't able to see at the moment. "Well... If you put it that way, I am naked in front of you now nevertheless. Showing you my true self. The way I was born." You gasped; breath hitching in your throat. Now you knew what he was talking about. "Your Jotun form? You... You want to show me your Jotun form?" He never did before. It was a huge part of his insecurities. "Yes, my love. Open your eyes." "L-Lokes, you don't have to show me your Jotun form right away! I know how difficult this is for you! I know how uncomfortable it makes you sometimes!"

He took a deep breath; was on the verge of crying again. "I know, love, I know. And I appreciate this so, so much - but I really want to show you. If we begin again, we begin with honesty. No secrets; no hiding. Now open your eyes." "O-Okay." You were quite a bit nervous as well. You knew that this took him a lot of effort. Opening your eyes, you gasped; heart skipping a beat. His deep blue eyes were replaced by shimmering ruby ones. His alabaster coloured skin had turned into a soft blue. Unique ridges and patterns adorned every inch of his tall, strong body. "Are you afraid?" Loki's shaky voice cut through the silence then. You shook your head immediately. "No, gods, no! You're beautiful, Loki. Stunning, breathtakingly beautiful." His eyes widened; pure relief flooding his veins. "R-Really? You... You think so?" You nodded; cupping his cheeks. "Yes. And it's finally time for you to accept this side of you," you said, pulling Loki gently over to your bed.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fanfiction #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson x reader

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the-bottom-of-the-abyss · 1 year

Text

siren song - chapter 6*

previous chapter: chapter 5

Masterlist

A/N: FIRST: I edited last chapter and added more detail. I wasn't really happy with how it turned out so there's a bit more. Also, MAJOR NSFW warning!! First time writing out smut so I hope it turned out okay!!

Ghost

31 August 2022

1300, Mexican Special Forces Base, Las Almas

As he ran an oiled rag over the barrel of his gun, Ghost thought of summer storms.

Everyone knew when they were coming; the clouds themselves were enough, but the sweet thickness of the air that accompanied them was a dead giveaway. As was the silence the preceded its arrival, the sounds of birds and insects both absent.

Everyone knew the destruction they caused, evident by the flooding and harsh winds that knocked tree trunks onto houses. Roads left undrivable, buildings in ruin.

And even knowing when these storms were about to hit land and knowing the devastation they could leave in their wake, people still sat on their porches and watched as darkness neared, not bothering to hide from its wrath.

And to some, this may seem foolish.

But a Ghost was not one of those people.

He knew there was a beauty in the calm before the storm but also the havoc swirling within it. Lightening tangled like spider webs in the sky would brighten the night like no other, and the heavy downpour didn’t have to feel like drowning; sometimes it was a drink of water after nearly dying of thirst.

And maybe because of all these things, he thought of her too.

She was an enigma. Calm like a gentle breeze, but fervent like a wildfire. Seemingly ruthless and sadistic, but merciful and disciplined. She was not afraid of him, and that was a rare thing in itself; Most people avoided Ghost, not that he was complaining. But she wasn’t fazed, didn’t look at him different because of the mask he wore, and that alone was a fact he reveled in.

During their fight, he could feel the measure of her strength with every hit and determination with every block. The feeling her mouth wrapped around his thumb kept coming to his mind over and over, as did the sight of her smug expression after she bested him. And most of all, the look she gave him afterwards, when he pulled her in close; desire and longing, one he wasn’t sure he could deny if it came down to it.

Ghost took a couple of deep breaths, trying his best to push out all of the images of her. Her sultry gaze, a lacy bra underneath a white tank top dotted with blood, the sound of her moans over the comms, the feel of her against his body.

“Fuck…” Ghost mumbled, finally managing to wrangle up his errant thoughts and return to the task at hand.

He was reassembling his weapon with ease, barely even registering the motions, when Soap walked in.

“Lt.,” he greeted, setting his rifle bag at the foot of his bed. Ghost nodded his head in return and traded out the newly assembled weapon for his side arm. As he began taking the pistol apart, Soap sat on the side of the bed.

“Has Siren come back yet?” Soap asked him.

Back? Ghost thought. He wasn’t aware that she had gone anywhere.

“Last I saw her was a few hours ago. No idea where she is now,” Ghost told him.

Soap hummed in acknowledgement, a contemplative look on his face. “Shepherd called for her about a half hour ago.”

That struck Ghost as odd. Not that he didn’t think she was capable of dealing with Shepherd; no, he was more concerned that he, a Lieutenant, was not asked for.

“Wonder why,” Ghost said out loud.

Soap shrugged. “Think it was about the other night?”

Ghost could guess that he was talking about the night she went undercover. A night he was sure he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“‘Dunno,” Ghost said.

Probably not, he thought to himself. Shepherd didn’t seem too phased by it and from his instructions that night, he seemed to expect that level of performance.

Before he could contemplate anymore, the woman plaguing his thoughts walked through the door to their room, barely sparing either of them a glance as she hurridely grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom. Ghost and Soap shared a puzzled look, not sure what to think of her lack of acknowledgement.

—

Siren

31 August 2022,

1400, Mexican Special Forces base, Las Almas

You looked in the mirror and once again, you were someone different.

There were no indications of a hardened soldier or an assassin who preyed on weak men. The woman in front of you had kind eyes and a soft smile, a vision of what could have been if life had dealt you a different hand. Sometimes you mourned that life; Maybe by now you’d have a little house and a nice partner to settle down with. But every time you tried to imagine it, you just couldn’t. It was more like forcing a puzzle piece into where it didn’t fit; it would never work, not without cutting out parts of yourself.

Instead of the tight ponytail you typically sported, your hair laid over your left collarbone in an easy braid. The makeup you wore was subtle this time. You didn’t need to stand out; you didn’t need to be the most stunning, most desirable woman this time. You needed to blend in, inconspicuous enough to get near but not draw too much attention. You wore a flowy yellow and orange sundress topped with a jean jacket. You looked “normal” and that was exactly what you were going for.

You put a knife in your jacket pocket and left the bathroom, tote in hand. You walked out and placed the tote by your bed before turning to your teammates. You felt their stares from the moment you walked in and that didn’t change once you left the bathroom in civilian clothes.

“What did Shepherd need you for?” Soap asked as you got a crossbody purse to put your wallet in.

“He wants me to go out for intel,” you told him. “Just me.”

“Alone?” Ghost asked incredulously. “No backup?”

You nodded and put on your flats.

“Not sure that’s a great idea,” Soap commented.

“Regardless, it’s a direct order,” you said, looking at both of them. “I’m not doing what I did last time. Its minimal contact, just listening for Alejandro’s boys to translate.”

“It’s reckless is what it is,” Ghost told you sternly.

You rolled your eyes before letting out a sigh. “You’ve never gone on a mission alone with no backup?”

Ghost didn’t respond to that which is exactly what you expected. He seemed the type to work alone with little to no protections that he’d come out alive.

“You don’t know me, Lieutenant,” you said harshly, taking a step closer to him so you could look glare into his eyes. “You have no idea what kind of shit I have done. The kind where a wrong move leads to death and extraction isn’t an option. This is nothing. Just because I’m not a man—“

“That’s not what this is about,” Ghost interrupted, stepping even closer so you were toe-to-toe. “We are a team. I don’t give a fuck if it’s you or Soap. We shouldn’t take risks if we don’t have to.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Direct orders from Shepherd supersede yours.”

For a brief moment, you glared at each other, neither of you giving in.

“She’s got a point,” Soap said, much to Ghost’s chagrin.

Ghost took a breath as if he were going to respond but you spoke instead. You needed to get out there soon and going back-and-forth with your superior wasn’t getting you anywhere. “I’ll wear an earpiece this time. You can talk to me if you need to and let me know if they hear anything suspicious. The braid should cover it.”

A beat passed.

“Fine,” Ghost conceded, the slight frustration present in his tone. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and watched as he left the room, likely to the control room.

You gathered your things, tossed a goodbye to Soap over your shoulder, and began looking for Alejandro to let him know the plan and to acquire an earpiece.

—

Once again, you found yourself in a bar in Las Almas, different than the previous one for obvious reasons.

You sat alone at a table in the corner of the room, sipping a cranberry vodka and mentally going over your backstory today. You weren’t planning on needing it but men have come up to you unprovoked before.

Today you were Isabella, 25, on vacation from your job. You worked in sales at an advertisement company in the US but were open to other opportunities if they were offered. You made sure your body language was relaxed and casual, and to not linger look anywhere for too long.

It was a moderately populated bar, with patrons playing pool, watching a soccer game on TV, and chatting amongst themselves. You were near a table of men that you were fairly confident were cartel members but didn’t get a good enough look to know for sure. You were hoping the mic would pick up their voices from where you were, but if not, you may have to improvise.

“Alright, hang tight Sergeant while Alejandro listens in,” Ghost said over the comms. You couldn’t really respond so you complied, just sipping your drink and feigning interest in the ongoing game on TV.

In all honesty, you were surprised Shepherd hadn’t wanted more out of you. When he was desperate for results, he normally sent you in with execute authority, willing to toe the line of legality as long as it got answers. And you were fine with that. You made yourself into the weapon that you were, it would be idiotic to not use it. You didn’t lose a bit of sleep over the people he sent you after; they were evil in more ways than one and normally involved in nefarious practices outside of terrorism.

“Keep doing what you’re doing. We’re getting something.”

And so, you did.

You allowed your gaze to roam over to the table of about five men, only picking out a few words from their conversation. A name appeared a few times, “Diego”, possibly something for the Los Vaqueros to look into.

As you looked around, you saw a different group of men, about three, get up from their place at the bar. Just as it looked like they were about to leave, one of them turned around and started walking your way.

You hoped he was going to the bathroom just so you didn’t have to talk to him and ruin any intel coming through from the mic. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem you would be that lucky tonight.

“Hola,” he greeted with a charming smile. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

Just as he had begun talking to you, Ghost’s voice rang out in your ear. “Get rid of him, Sergeant.”

“Oh, hi!” you greeted with a smile. “I’m on vacation. It’s my first time here actually.”

“Maybe I could show you around some?” he suggested, standing closer to the seat you were in, leaning on the table with one of his hands.

“I’m sorry,” you said with a small, embarrassed smile. “I have a boyfriend. I’m actually waiting for him here.”

“Oh,” he said, looking a little dejected. “I hope you have a good time.”

You nodded and watched his retreating form.

“Good girl.”

You sucked in a breath of surprise at the praise.

Bastard, you thought to yourself. His voice was so dark and deep, and now closer than ever since he was literally talking just to you over the comms. And he knew what he was doing. Likely an attempt to get you back from your fight earlier and the tactics you used.

A little bit of time passed, filled with you keeping your mind under control and Ghost updating you on their progress. Just as you finished your second drink, the men at the table got up to leave. And, just as you suspected, they sported tattoos of the cartel symbol on their bodies.

“Alright, we’ll be there soon,” Ghost said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You paid your tab in cash and left the building shortly after, content to wait on a bench for your ride to pick you up.

Thoughts of Ghost were becoming quite distracting; the feel of his body against yours, his hand around your neck, a hand inching up your thigh after stitching you up. He was effortlessly intoxicating and all you wanted to do was breathe him in. You weren’t blind, either. You knew that he had to feel it too. Why else would he react so strongly after the fight?

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Siren”

And why did that warning feel more like an invitation?

—-

You made it back to the base after being escorted by one of Alejandro’s men. You weren’t summoned for a meeting about their findings yet so you headed back to your shared room, hoping to get out of the dress and back into your tactical clothes.

Upon arriving, you saw Ghost sitting on the edge of his bed, cleaning his weapons again. It was almost ritual-like, with how often he would clean them.

Soap was nowhere to be seen, likely at the dining hall.

“Lieutenant,” you greeted. He looked up and nodded in return, going back to his task without a further word.

You went into the bathroom and began deconstructing Isabella. You took out your braid and let your locks fall naturally around your face. You hung your jean jacket on a towel rack outside of the door, leaving only your sundress to unzip.

You reached around the back to reach the zipper, but it was at a very awkward angle, and not something you could do by yourself.

You sighed. Perhaps this could be the opportunity you had been waiting for to finally get him out of your system.

“Ghost?” you called out. “Can you help me for a sec?”

You felt giddiness rise in your chest, and for once in a long time, it was not because you were preparing to kill someone.

You heard faint footsteps getting closer and two knocks on the bathroom door. You opened it to find your Lieutenant eyeing you warily like you were a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Smart man.

You stepped away to let him in and shut the door behind him.

“I can’t unzip this,” you told him, gesturing to your dress. “Could you do it for me? Please?”

He nodded once and you turned to face the mirror.

As he came up behind you, you felt the need to push a little bit, just to see what would come of it.

“I told you it wasn’t dangerous.”

He met your gaze in the mirror and narrowed his eyes. “You were lucky.”

“Maybe so,” you replied, feeling his warm hand make contact with your back where the zipper was. “I think I did a great job, though. Worthy of a reward if I do say so myself.”

Every breath between you felt measured, both of you trying to figure the other out as you neared a precipice you couldn’t back away from.

He hummed in acknowledgement and began slowly dragging the zipper down, eyes never breaking from yours.

“After all, you said I was a good girl,” you teased, a smirk forming.

A hand flew to your waist, holding you still as the zipper finally reached the bottom of its track.

You were presenting a clear challenge with your eyes alone, one that you hoped he would take. However, you could see him debating with himself, so you decided to take matters into your own hands with a little provocation.

“Show me what it’s like to be with someone other than people like them,” you told him pointedly.

“Like who?”

“Those weak men,” you said, taking the hand on your waist and guiding it up to your abdomen, “the ones that never take a chance,” and up higher, “the ones that can’t keep up,” and leaving it to rest on your covered breast while you whispered the last part.

“The ones that can’t make me cum.”

A hand flew up to grip your throat, causing you to grin at the motion while he pushed his body tight against yours.

“You’re something else, Siren.” His voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it and it only multiplied the feeling of your arousal.

“I know.” You smiled at him and watched his eyes darken.

He released your throat and pulled the straps of your sundress down your shoulders and peeled it off slowly. It fell to the ground, pooling around your feet, leaving you in a lacy set of underwear and strapless bra while he was fully dressed in tactical gear minus a vest.

You reached around and removed your bra; immediately a hand found your breast and began tugging on your already hardened peak, making you release a quiet moan of pleasure.

Before you could really get into it, his other hand threaded itself into the hair at the base of your skull and made a fist, pulling your head back to look at him in the mirror.

“One rule,” he said. You nodded as best as you could, still slightly distracted by his hand traveling from your breast down your abdomen and stopping right when the tips of his fingers reached your panty line.

“With me, you’re real,” he ordered. “No fake moans. If something doesn’t feel good, you’re going to tell me. This isn’t your job; this is just us.”

You nodded reverently but he tightened his grip causing you to hiss in pleasure-pain.

“Say it.”

“Yes, Ghost. Just us. Now fucking touch me you bastard.”

He chuckled lowly, sliding his hand underneath your underwear and running his fingers through your folds.

“Soaked,” he commented smugly, dragging some of your wetness up to rub your bundle of nerves with his middle finger. You watched the outline of his hand in the mirror, the veins in his arm, the muscles flexing as he began moving his fingers in circles.

“Fuck,” you whispered, just this small touch making you feel so good, so much better than when you touched yourself. “More,” you demanded.

Ghost removed his hand, causing you to whimper at the loss. He spun you around and both of his hands found the edges of your underwear and dragged them down, leaving you completely bare before him. He lifted you by the waist to sit on the sink, your back against the mirror.

He put his hands on both knees and spread them apart, exposing your arousal to him. You watched his eyes flare and his chest rise and fall faster.

He brought his middle and ring finger of one hand to your lips.

“Suck.”

You eagerly opened your mouth and hollowed out your cheeks, caressing his fingers with your tongue. Instead of just staying still like last time, his moved his fingers forward, deeper into your mouth. You stared at him as you swallowed them down, not choking on the digits as he tested your gag reflex. He quietly groaned and removed his now slicked fingers.

The same hand reached down and cupped the apex of your thighs, rubbing your clit a few times before easing his fingers into you, causing your eyes to roll backwards. When you opened your eyes, he waited for you to look right at him before curling them up, eliciting a true moan, one you hadn’t ever heard come from yourself.

He built up a rhythm, going in and out, curling his fingers with every plunge inside, a pressure building up in your abdomen. You were in a constant state of pleasure, mindless to the rest of the world besides the masked man in front of you.

Ghost continued to finger fuck you, dirty and slow, pushing moans out of you effortlessly. You knew you were getting closer and closer and couldn’t stop your words or reactions.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you cried out, thighs beginning to shake.

His unoccupied hand came up to grip your chin and level your stare with his.

“Watch me when you cum,” he ordered. You nodded enthusiastically, not willing to take your eyes off of his.

He sped up and rubbed your clit with his thumb on every push in. You moaned loudly, your eyes becoming hooded as the pleasure became too much for your body to handle. You watched him right as he shoved you over the edge, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He helped you ride out your orgasm and when you came down, he removed his fingers, now more slick than they were from your mouth.

Ghost’s other hand raised his balaclava enough to reveal his lips, and he placed his fingers coated in your slick into his mouth, groaning as the taste hit his tongue.

“Your cunt tastes fucking good,” he growled, pulling your boneless form off of the sink and turning you around once again, making you lean against the sink on your hands. Even though you just came, you were drunk on him and wanted him even more, wanted anything he’d give you.

“Fuck me, Ghost,” you demanded, sticking your ass out a little, desperate to feel his cock splitting you open.

“Gladly.” His hands fumbled to undo his belt and pants. You felt his warm, velvety cock against your ass and watched as he spat down on his hand. He stroked himself a few times before lining himself up behind you, looking at you before moving.

“Please,” you whispered.

Ghost pushed his hips forward, his cock entering you in one go and causing you to drop your jaw from the fullness while he let out a loud groan.

“Fucking hell,” he said, hands coming up to grip your hips tightly. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting harshly back in and forcing a moan from you. He filled you just right, on the right side of painful and the epitome of pleasure.

As he rocked in and out, pulling your hips back into him on every thrust in, you thought that if you died right now, you’d be fucking happy, being impaled on this man’s cock.

You have been fucked by countless men but nothing, nothing could ever compare to the borderline religious experience you were having as his length buried itself inside of you over and over again.

You watched his eyes in the mirror; he would look downward to where he was disappearing inside of you and then up to your face, meeting your eyes with an intensity you’d never seen before. His thrusts picked up in pace, but he never sacrificed firmness for speed, the slap of his hips hitting your skin echoing in the bathroom.

Your moans also picked up in frequency as you began to approach your peak once more, his cock hitting the spot deep inside you perfectly each time. You gripped the sink edge so hard that your fingertips were white with the effort.

He pulled you upright, one hand wrapped around your neck, causing an arch to form in your back as he fucked you. His other hand travelled down to your clit and circled it with precision, causing your pleasure to skyrocket tenfold.

“Oh my god…” you cried as his thrusts continued with a deadly consistency.

“Cum,” Ghost told you. “Cum on my cock.”

You cried out the only name you had for him. He shoved himself inside of you deep and held there while you shook and spasmed around him.

“Fuckin’ good girl,” he said in that gravely tone of his.

He maneuvered your body into another position, bending you more forward and holding your arms behind you. With one hand gripping your shoulder and the other holding your arms, he pulled out slowly and slammed back in, causing an almost-sob to come out of you. You felt so damn good, tears started to prick at the corner of your eyes.

The sound of your wetness became very loud as he continued to move in and out, joining the sound of heavy breathing, skin on skin, and your uncontrolled moans.

“So fucking wet,” he groaned, fucking you with an such an intensity that you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises on you the next day. In fact, you hoped you would, if only to remind you that this wasn’t some dream.

He sped up again; The way he held your body meant that with every thrust in, it jolted you forward but his hands stopped you and brought you backwards instead, making it feel like his cock was pounding into you even deeper than before. You watched yourself getting fucked by your Lieutenant; you looked so fucked out and in a daze. He wasn’t unaffected though. His eyes would occasionally roll back in pleasure and groans would surface after a particularly deep thrust.

“God, Ghost, you feel so good,” you told him. “Never felt like this before.”

“Good.”

Before long, his thrusts became more erratic, signaling he was reaching his end as well. He let go of your arms and instead gripped your waist.

“Touch yourself,” he choked out. You obeyed, rubbing your clit with a furious intensity. You felt yourself approaching an orgasm for the third time, the feeling rapidly increasing with his more vocal groans as he neared the end.

“Shit,” you cried out, falling into pleasure a final time, muscles twitching so badly that Ghost had to hold up most of your weight. By the time you came back to yourself, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He quickly pulled out and came on your lower back, a heavy groan echoing through the bathroom. You both were still for a second, catching your breath.

He was the first to move; he grabbed a washcloth and wiped his spend from your back and rubbed his fingers over the already forming bruises on your waist from when he came.

“’S okay,” you told him, voice hoarse from use. “We should do that again.”

Your Lieutenant looked back up at you. You were a bit of a mess, with hair mussed and a full-body flush present from all the blood rushing. But that didn’t stop you from giving him a serious stare.

“I’m serious,” you told him. “This doesn’t have to be the last time.”

“We’ll see.”

“You’re welcome to stay but I’m going to shower. We worked up quite a sweat.”

He nodded and was quiet for a second.

“I’m going to go out. Don’t need Soap investigating where we both went if he comes back.”

You nodded in agreement and watched as he tucked himself back in his pants and fixed his belt before walking out. You weren’t offended that he was leaving. You were honest about your intentions; it didn’t need to be anything more than sex.

You had a pleasant ache in your muscles, and you felt sore in all the right places, something you hadn’t really ever felt. You were being honest when you said you hadn’t felt anything like that before.

Hopefully it happens again. And soon.

Taglist:

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#ghost #simon ghost riley smut #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod mw22

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erenspussy420 · 2 years

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I’ll break you twice

Ace fic, yandereish themes. This is a gender-neutral sfw post, however my blog is NOT a sfw so please be aware of this.

I haven’t posted anything in a while so here is this for now until my two nsfw asks are finished. Please be courteous and please read the header. Thank you.

It's too easy.

Sneaking into the headmaster's office at the dead of night, back to where the mirror that took you into this world was hidden. Its glossy surface, dark and sleek, looked back at him with his own reflection. He can feel the faint pulse of magic in it, soft as a heart beat, that made his teeth prickle as if was being stung by the feeling alone. His right hand that held his magic pen, tightens its grip on it, the drumming of his heart sounds so loud in the quietness of the night.

It would be very easy to fire off his magic at it. Destroy any hope you'll be spirited away from this world. From him.

It wouldn't feel right to use his magic for this reason. Thinking of blasting it to pieces wouldn't be the same. So he pockets it into his hoodie, -pftt! As if he was going to wear his dorm clothing for this!- and walked around the office taking in anything that looked heavy. He pockets some items, an ink bottle as such, as he goes- little things he doubts the scatter bird for brain's headmaster would notice. The back of his head burns as if the mirror was watching him, grinding his teeth at the sensation he quickened his pace for something to break the damn thing.

His brother told him how fulfilling it is to do things with your own hands. Well Big Bro, let’s see if that’s true.

He finds it, the brass paper weight on the stupid crow's book mantle, in the shape of a crows head. It felt heavier than what it looked, he tosses it in between his hands experimenting with its weight, before he turns pivoting on his heel and chucks it at the only hope you had left. Scattering every shard of glass into the shadows, the reflection of his eyes staring right back at him.

Somewhere deep within his mind saying 'they're going to hate us', but it's not louder than the green in his heart shouting "they'll never leave us!". This didn’t have to happen, if you just understood what’s best for you, for all of them! With this, he still has time. He wouldn’t have to feel the desperateness of a drowning man without air. He didn’t have to be pushed to this, if you just stopped looking!

What’s so wrong about staying here in Twisted Wonderland? With him? There’s no one waiting for you back there! Not when you have all of them! All of him! Why isn’t he enough for you!

It's really easy. Destroying the mirror. Now the hard part was escaping. After running out, hearing cries from down the hall from paintings shouting " You thief! Vandal! Guards!" To the ghosts that patrol at night, the twists and turns he takes, ducking into the narrows of spaces with his slim body to ditch those losers and flee back to his dorm. His shoes kicking up dirt as he cuts through the lawn towards the halls of mirrors, he keeps running even if he can't hear the patrolmen anymore behind him. He had to run circles around to make them lose his trail, and even then he hides in every shadow the world lends him.

By the time he slinks back into the Hall of Mirrors, he’s exhausted, bruised and covered in dirt. What he had to do for you. Everything was for you. It was the only reason he’s even in this mess was for you. You better appreciate his hard work.

Despite his pitiful state, he didn’t immediately head for his dorm mirror, no not yet. He trudged towards the other mirrors, kicking the ground as he did, the caked dirt under his shoes crumbling as he moved to each mirror. Between his scuffing, he throws the mess of trash he gathered during his escapade haphazardly around, then pulls from his hoodie an ink bottle he swiped from the Headmage’s office and splatters it across the walls.

The pungent smell of garbage and ink enveloped the entire hall, dirt trailed everywhere with no starting point than the entrance, the hall was a mess. Finally, he pulls off his sneakers and heads towards his mirror. His socks may have to be sacrificed, the lawn was still damp from the first year’s watering it, but his footsteps were muted as he sneaked into the dormitory. Seeing no one in sight, he can relax a little with a cocky swagger in his steps.

Tomorrow morning, you’ll find a horrible crime committed against you. As always, he’ll be right by your side with the pieces you’ve broken.

Deuce stirred in his sleep as the gushing of the sink woke him awake. With one eye open, Deuce looks to Ace's bed seeing it empty.

“Mm,...Ace?” Deuce said, his eyes still blurry with sleep as he looks up at the bathroom door he shared with Ace. It takes him a moment to focus, the clock next to him says, with its wonky arm, 3:15 AM. What in the Seven's, was he making so much noise?

"Oi, Ace it's three in the morning," Deuce calls out, he hears a thud and Ace cursing behind the door. Deuce eyebrows furrowed," what are you doing in there?"

“Taking a shit, Deuce," Ace's voice bites through the door," Want to announce that to the whole dorm?"

Deuce scowled, "I was just asking! Hurry up and go to sleep. We have a potions exam in the morning! I can't fail this one, Ace!"

Yeah, he didn't do so well last time. Urk, he can still remember Ace's smug face rubbing his 89 percent score to Deuce 40 percent.

He can almost hear Ace's eyes roll. "Yeah, yeah, go to sleep already, Juice. Geez, whaddya have to do to get some privacy here?"

Deuce maturely stuck his tongue out and went back to sleep. Soon, his snores returned, leaving Ace to push himself off the door he was leaning on. Stuck in the bathroom, cold tiles on his feet, he turned the faucet down a bit, and went back to scrubbing his redding arm.

The ink stains his left hand.

#ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #reader insert #twst headcanons #twst ace #deuce spade #mention of deuce #crowley #twst crowley #yandere ace trappola #gender neutral reader

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mrfelixfischoeder · 2 months

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I wish you would write a fic where....

The sisters DIDNT make it out of Finland and were stuck in the cult

Some time between 1995-2003 / theyre in their early-mid 20s. Of course all dialogue is actually Finnish.

In the forests of the north of Lapland, two rifle shots ring out – a flock of pigeons fly into the sky, silhouetting themselves against the lowering sun.

“Sloppy.” Zorya kneels by the dead hare, “Two shots. The fur is ruined.” She looks up to Olena, who walks over, staring at the eye of the animal. It twitches and she looks out into the treeline instead. “Are you listening?”

“Someone in Kolari will take it.” Olena mutters, tying the hare’s feet on the other side of the rope of another dead one, hauling them over her shoulder as she hands Zorya the gun back. The blood stains her already dark coat, almost drowning her thin body. It is pitiful compared to Zorya’s five – three hares, a pheasant, and another strange bird she does not know – with one clean shot each.

“It won’t hurt you,” her sister taunts, but takes the gun when Olena refuses to retract her arm, “We should get back. Your show is soon. You will want to wash, I suppose.”

“It is for the benefit of the commune.” Olena’s cheeks turn pink – both with embarrassment and excitement. To play her violin again, to find the peace she craves and cannot get any other way. It haunts her.

As Olena gets herself ready in the community hall, she looks to see Usko enter with Zorya. He tuts at the sight of his daughter with the violin, and she clings to it, though splinters dig into her palms. It’s old – trustworthy, but old. Olena watches him light candles around the room as the sun sets.

“I thought, perhaps – I have had this one for years. Replacing the strings isn’t enough anymore.” Olena is quiet, unable to bring herself to raise her voice to her father. Usko turns his head, raising an eyebrow.

“What did you say?” Usko demands. Zorya watches from the door, arms crossed. Eyes flit between her father and her sister.

“N- well, it’s just…”

“It is a communal instrument, Olena. It is not yours.”

“I misspoke!” Olena nearly backs up as Usko approaches her, even at his glacial pace, you feel he might strike at any moment. It would not be the first time. Even Zorya’s shoulders rise and she leans forward to come between them, if need be. “We would benefit greatly, from a new v-violin is all I am saying.”

“You are lucky we have one at all, at the behest of your mother.” Usko stares down past his sharp cheekbones, “Do not take her weakness to be mine, daughter.”

“I will pay for it.”

Olena and Usko turn their heads to Zorya as she walks towards them. She glowers at Olena, though when the girls make eye contact her expression instinctively softens. “My allowance. I will put my money to it.”

Usko cannot deny his older daughter’s reasoning. “Waste your money on pleasures. It is like I have taught you nothing.” He snarls, walking past them both. Once his back is to them, Olena grips Zorya’s hand and squeezes, the only way she knows how to show her thanks – and even then it does not seem enough, as Zorya pulls herself away and walks out after him, bowing her head to their mother as she walks in. Olena’s shoulders don’t untense, but she tries to smile as her mother comes towards her. She pulls the collar of her dress up closer to her jaw.

“Your hair is getting long.” Her mother puts her fingers through her daughter’s hair, gently, letting it fall away. It barely goes past her shoulders. “We will fix this tomorrow.”

“Mama-”

“Please, do not.” She is exhausted in ways Olena does not know, not yet. Her brows meet, before she brings her violin to her chest.

The room fills with those of the commune who want to listen. It is many – for those who listen to Olena’s playing, always come from the viewing blissful. It is like a form of prayer, getting them closer to their God than any sermon could.

The music is beautiful, slow – a mixture of Finnish classics blended with sounds of her own creation. The only time Olena gets to be remotely creative, for the benefit of her family. She would be resentful, had she known what the emotion is. As she plays, unbeknownst even to herself and those around her (bar one, who enters the room late but silent), a wave of power emits from her bow, gentle, subtle. It makes the flames of the candles flicker, and the glass windows shudder. Ice blue eyes note the change of atmosphere in the room immediately, as all eyes are on Olena.

When the solo ends, the loudest clap comes from the doors of the hall, and Olena opens her eyes to look. The man she has seen many times visit, but has only ever spoken to her once, as far as she remembers. His blue eyes stare right into her soul. She only sees her mother move at the corner of her eye, standing up.

“That was beautiful, Tirriäinen.” Vater Orlaag compliments, his voice booming through the room, his Finnish surprisingly flawless, “It will be your last. It is time.”

Her mother whispers something to Usko. The sisters cannot hear her desperate mumblings, but the grip on his coat says all they need to know. He rips himself from her and sits her back down with a hard shove on her shoulder. Zorya looks up to Olena, who looks back, both sharing the same apprehensive expression.

It is time. The last day of being a child. And on to the first day of their fate.

#mtl oc #olena #zorya #writing prompt #ty so much for this prompt i love writing this!!!

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sinvulkt · 1 year

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Angstpril:16. "YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO" - evil au

TW: NON CONSENSUAL AMPUTATION

@whumpril- 16. Guilt | Shock | "I'm so sorry." (Yes it fit all three)

@chaos-company

Binders coupled with a magnetic field held me upward, while various bounds ensured I could barely shift. Force-suppressing restraints kept me away from my gift, the Dark far away from my reach. Pat circled my chained body, making some last minute adjustments to—

No. It won’t happen.

I lunged at him, to no avail. Held as I was, I could barely shift. I snarled instead, but it did nothing more than make Pat brush my captive mind in reassurance.

“Don’t worry, Master. You won’t feel anything.”

That was the issue, wasn’t it? Not feeling what I should feel.

“You’ll regret this,” I growled between gritted teeth.

I flapped my wings, but they were too bound to move. They strained against the chains, doing little more than gathering a headache-inducing cacophony of clinks. I tensed and relaxed the muscle nevertheless, testing the leeway the restraints allowed them. It was too tight, too little- not even enough to throw the Togorian near me away, but it was something.

Soon, I wouldn’t even have that.

A long needle appeared in Pat’s hand.

Local anesthesia, my brain provided.

A strange kind of emptiness filled my chest. I struggled more, uncaring of the irritated skin that threatened to tear apart under the striction. It was negligible, compared to what my so-called Flock threatened to do.

Pain meant power.

None of the restraints gave, however, and I stayed trapped. A beautiful bird held in a golden cage, cared for but deprived of its most basic right.

Do you know what happens to little house birds? the Dark whispered in my ears.

I shuddered and pulled on the binders, wings shaking. No matter how strongly I bid it, the Force remained silent to my calls. Despair dimmed my vision, until only a vague blur remained.

“You have to let me go,” I pleaded to Pat.

Perhaps the bond we once shared would appeal to him?

"I'm so sorry, but it must be done." His face was mournful, but determined. My stomach flopped.

I heard the words, but they felt empty, meaningless.

I should have known. Hope had always only held me back

I clenched my fist, hooks sinking deep into skin. Drops of blood fell on the well polished floor. For once, no one would scold me for dirtying it. A glance at Pat taught me he hadn’t noticed, and I reveled in this small rebellion. Not that it mattered. Soon, the whole room would be painted crimson.

I couldn’t stop it.

Pat stepped closer, and my panic increased tenfold.

“Let’s begin the surgery.”

The long needle edge was sank into my spine, and I screamed. I screamed as tough leather was placed into my mouth, and I screamed as my whole backside was rendered numb. I screamed until my throat gave out and I could scream no more, because I knew that, were I too stop, everything would become real.

The noise stopped.

I sagged in the restraints, mind rendered dizzy by the drugs now running through my system. Pat was behind me, touching the appendages I couldn’t feel anymore, and I couldn’t help but wonder… Were they still there? Were they gone?

It didn’t matter anyway.

No matter how much they removed in the surgery… They had warned me enough that the remnants would never allow me to fly again.

I turned away from the thought, folding my sense of self deep within my mind. Without the Force, it was harder. My core was lost amidst wild instinctual fear, and even my Siegrind memories remained closed to me. But I pushed further and further, sinking into lives I lived and lives others did. Sometimes, fear pushed my mind to bubble back, but I resisted. Again and again, helped by whatever cursed meditations poisoned me, I coralled my self further away from reality. I didn’t want to be here.

Here had nothing to give me.

Nothing but weakness I would drown in, pain I couldn’t use, and chains I had proved unable to break down.

What a joke of a Darksider I was, I mocked, in between the sound of scalpel cleanly cutting skin and the mournful cry of a broken bone.

What use was living, when none of your life was your own?

Back in the room I refused to be in, held down by those it should have never feared from… a single tear rolled down a Siegrind’s cheek.

It was fun while it lasted.

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nmsthim · 1 month

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POETRY SLAM:MINDLESS BEHAVIOR

WHATS UP WITH THAT!!! big mouth taking up the whole space smize to the gawds, I like your face right in y'all face, glecning off concentrate everyday is picture day lack of me? u up in anti, politics heard em say donkey noisy! there's A grey space of the situation ain't no exposing me no need to wait no longer Captain save a ho is here the longest yard or wondering anymore light it up and take action fast feed, light camera like magic I'm flashy you need me that's why I need to have all four doors its as simple as that, can you take charge ? abuse of the word, otherwise known as a public charmer is that a fact, what you about, you can hold it against me for stating facts, and get down to the nitty gritty I came to break bread, to get these fix, don't pull a fast one on me Bling fury, shut up the deaf dumb and blind spirit. I came I saw and conquer and yet I'm feel fix gimme my money back, having me in here with vain glories country ass doctor barber claiming Brandon and its a girl pulling hos ponytail, seeing lames, and bragging rights I never in team, in the presence such a strange fright. friendships, and rock the boat it came with, down to the boots, shiver me timbers, y'all gross for flood warnings, head in the wrong places…

I NEED A BREAKTHROUGH hurting in my soul might need some whiskey. pour it up drink, dang just slipped me a mickey another one, this parchness turn into a lonely soul. mics on a sound system, I'm running low up out my face, picture me the biggest shone, trying to out do me, this a stick up, cant leave without a better outcome its the 9 th inning goodness gracious lord have mercy on my soul what have I done to envision thus Far spiritual warfare I'm fighting as if my life depends on it. Raising my own damn self, sensei and jacking, ready or not here I come. this life that we living, together forevermore, it had to happen never knew to a situation, you just gotta understand, something. think outta the box and found what I face going in . you outta line , thinking I'm put up with you. no amount of deformation of character can add up to this. birds of a feather flock together, less there be danger. going the longest yard, pulling all connections. made up my mind and band together to join forces. I'm pulling your card.teasing a blue eye soldier This not an ordinary person b I'm fine as fuck. me vs me not needing another in the picture. you must think I'm booboo the foo, fighters and flight got them losing sleep. release the hounds like I was in a band of thieves, its the little things, they calling me like it rung a bell. and what! waxing and waning is it time yet no matter who's speaking the same language period. No voids, can be filled, fixed my eyes do you wrong like I never knew you. what would you do in a sticky situation. don't vow to nobody who don't pay your bills.and rent Super lets keep it moving I'm yearning for something moore and I'm noting that the darkness never did care if I was drowning. look on the bright side of things, sunny like nobody else could shine that bright. Touching the sun, somebody is going to have an asthma attack I should be right about finish and ready to amp you up if you didn't have done the same thing. What's A retort to a runaway ,love, love you moore, was there any other girl. cheater advice or how to tell a lie, the constant steady stream of lies detected. purple flocking like eggplant farms that cammm outta nowhere. break up the ice and make up the days break what's word of mouth anyways we not going down we not the help.

I LIKE IT LIKE THAT losing his marbles try to challenge me !? you yourself know where's the goofy at challenge accepted you a wanna be celebraty trying the life, 99 times couldn't get it right always need a reason choose a thot for picking you not up for the battle you just a basser show me the proof in the pudding telling me I'm nothing I got a feeling can't tell me nothing its like I contracted a bee sting a charge a bite some might something I m not going back to the way it used to be see past it like I I'm reading read em and weep ready set go no consequences if I believe it where you ought to be for this conclusion you must have me mistaken hot like I'm the next Jen many man manne Pac yo never heard of a sticker or just for kicks I love the living day lights outta you workout a knuck and buck cranking you the type to leave not come back for more but nothing comes back void what's made for me Skye to see you still not done ill be that one to say here kingdom come the grand special like I put my foot in it. I mean put it in you mouth straight out the kitchen . Saw you and roll up a I'm down for a killing might guy gotta have some smoke for a big figure Waited so long, had I cut a year to a meal lion standing on bidness like I'm the stallion get these dividends like I'm here for sit in set in stone not all that glitters is gold

#music #audible #album #sing #rap #rhymes #relatable memes

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whitesparrows97 · 2 years

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Not quite the same – Part 1

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Jungkook x Dog Hybrid!Reader

Summary: You had always thought that your home with your family was the final stop. After your owners abandon you and a storm drives you into the nearby forest, you think things can't get any worse. At least until you run right into the arms of a pack of wolves.

Genre: Hybrid AU; angst, smut, fluff

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of blood, grief, angst

Word Count: 2.6K

Note: It feels like it’s been years since I last posted a hybrid story but I had this idea in my head for so long that I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I hope you will like it as well! Please let me know what you think!

The rain hit your face as you lifted it up to the sky. You didn’t know how long you had been walking along the country road, only that the sun was beginning to disappear behind the horizon and the soaked clothes that clung to your shivering body like a second skin were making you freeze more and more. The wind picked up, but all attempts to pull your jacket tighter around you to keep you warm were pointless.

The rain had long since washed away the streaks of tears on your cheeks, but the aching throb in your heart remained. You wondered if the hole in it would remain forever.

A shriek escaped you as it thundered loudly, and you covered your ears with your hands, which peeked out from between your dripping wet hair and were far more sensitive to sound than their human counterparts. Every thunder, every drop of rain on the leaves of the forest to your right seemed unnaturally loud. Every now and then you glanced into the dark thicket of the forest. The trees would protect you from the wind and rain perhaps but you were afraid that you would get lost and not find your way back to the road. Then you would never find your way home again.

Whether it was the rain running down your face or fresh tears pouring from your eyes again, you didn’t know. But it also made no difference. Those responsible for why you were stumbling around alone in the middle of the countryside about two hours outside of town in a heavy thunderstorm wouldn’t care anymore.

A sob climbed up your throat and joined the thunder and rain. Your vision blurred and a moment later you tripped over your own tired legs that had been carrying you along for what felt like hours. Pain ran through your knees as they hit the ground and you could smell the blood soaking your dark jeans. You were too exhausted to pick yourself up immediately and paused for a moment on your knees, palms propped up in a puddle to keep yourself from falling forward.

“Why?” you asked, your voice drowned out by the thunderstorm. Only the rustling and whispering of the forest gave you a hushed answer. You sniffled, took the already wet sleeve of your jacket to wipe the tears from your eyes and looked into the depths of the forest. The wind was howling, but the leaves of the bushes a few steps into the forest were only swaying slowly back and forth. It didn’t help. You mustered the strength to pick yourself up and climb over the ditch separating you from the small dirt path that ran alongside the country road and the forest.

The branches and fallen leaves crunched under your weight as you set your first foot on the forest floor, and the road grew smaller and smaller behind you as you walked further into the forest. Eventually it disappeared from view, as you realized when you turned around. At least the rain was no longer pounding on your head. Every now and then a few drops hit your face, and each time you jumped.

Except for you, the forest seemed deserted. The chirping of the birds had fallen silent as they had taken shelter from the thunderstorm. It was as if you were all alone in this forest, in this world. And in a way, that was true now. After years of having a home, you were now on your own again. The chatter of your jaws hitting each other sounded loud in the otherwise silent forest, but you were so cold and exhausted that you didn’t even feel the cold anymore, so much had it soaked into your body. It had literally taken you over.

It took quite a while before your nose no longer picked up the wet asphalt, but only the musty smell of wet wood, the fresh scent of wet grass that you loved so much… and a smell of smoke.

You stopped in your tracks, your ears perked up as you tried to pick up every sound, no matter how quiet. Were those voices? Or were you already so lonely that you imagined them? If they were really there, were they friendly? Maybe they were lumberjacks who could drive you back home. Hopeful, you first took a step forward, but then you halted again.

Your owners didn’t want you anymore, they had told you that when they said goodbye, before they had sat back in the car and were getting smaller and smaller in the distance. The pungent smell of gasoline was still in your nose, making your stomach turn.

Speaking of stomach, it was grumbling at that very moment and you pressed your hands on it. You had been too excited to eat breakfast when your owners told you they had planned a trip with you. Now you wished to have a plate of scrambled eggs, toast and pancakes and a small bowl of fruit with it. The memory of past Sundays overpowered your hunger.

A laugh, far off in the distance, brought you back to the present. The voices that followed sounded closer this time than before and you stumbled back. Too late you heard the breathing behind you, the cracking of branches under a strangers weight. A breeze carried the unfamiliar male scent to your nose and you whirled around. Your nose was inches from an torso, and your gaze met a human chest.

A whimper fell from your lips before you could stop it. Instincts took over, all those months in the behavioral institution and what you had learned there to make yourself submissive to humans immediately popped into your head.

You lowered your head, your tail, which was hanging down with weight from the rain, slipped between your legs and you flattened your ears, hoping they weren’t too obvious. It would be better the more human you looked. You had been told that over and over again. A sign of submissiveness. Because no matter what kind of hybrid you were, in this world you were always submissive to humans.

And then you waited.

For a movement, for the man to say something, to attack you, or to walk away. But instead it was silent. So silent that the panic in your body slowly subsided and you were able to concentrate on your nose again. Because it picked up the man’s scent again, and this time you noticed something.

Beneath the male scent, which reminded you very much of the smell of the forest, lurked something else. Something that you had last smelled in the behavioral institution, when hybrids of all kinds lived together in close quarters. If one could speak of “life”. Waiting was more like it. Waiting, for a new chance at life.

Your head snapped up and your gaze met the man’s. He looked serious, no smile adorned his full lips, which he pressed tightly together. His jaw twitched and out of the corner of your eye you saw how his ears were pressed tightly against his head, so that they were almost hidden. But not out of submissiveness, like yours, but for an entirely different reason.

A growl, deep and menacing, cut through the silence.

You took a step backward, but immediately stiffened as the man’s hand shot forward and firmly grasped your wrist. Again, your gaze found his.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was low, not quite as low as the growl, but any trace of friendliness was absent.

Fear coursed through your veins and you tried to make yourself smaller, but the man yanked you by your wrist, so hard that you stumbled forward and almost landed with your nose against his chest again.

“I asked you a question.”

Your lips trembled and you tried to stammer an answer, not even knowing yourself why exactly you were in this place and not at home with your family.

“I-I don’t know.” Your teeth chattered and you pressed your jaws together so tightly that they hurt. But you didn’t want to upset the hybrid in front of you any further. If there was one thing you had learned in your years of life so far, it was that you should not anger other hybrids who were superior to you. You would always get the short end of the stick, you had learned that the hard way.

The man in front of you snorted. “Pah! I don’t believe that for a moment. You stink of people. So I’ll ask you again, what are you doing here?” He tightened his grip around your wrist so it hurt and your knees buckled, hoping to relieve the pressure. “Are you a rat at RCH?”

“What, no!” Under other circumstances, that accusation might have made you laugh. The very idea that Regulation and Control of Hybrids would find you good enough to let you work for them was laughable. You were a dog hybrid; according to your file, you had eighty percent Golden Retriever in you. You didn’t know the other twenty percent yourself, but the dark brown, almost black ears that sometimes shone red when the sun hit them just right told you that you had another breed in you. But golden retrievers, loyal as they were, were not known to work for RCH. You could never betray other hybrids, for all the world you wanted to spare every hybrid what you had to go through for over a year.

“I don’t believe you,” the hybrid spat back at you, looking over his shoulder in the direction you had come from. That gave you a clear view of his slightly rounded, black and gray ears. The ears of a wolf.

A rustle behind made you wheel around, as much as was possible with the iron grip around your wrist, and your gaze fell on another hybrid. Also a wolf. Blood rushed in your ears as you realized you had walked right into the arms of a pack of wolves. Immediately your mind began to think of possible scenarios of how you could escape the situation unharmed. The hybrid in front of you was bigger and stronger than you, you were trapped between two hybrids coming from a pack - two against one. You could run fast, but you didn’t know your way around this area, and even if you could outrun them, which was unlikely in itself, you would probably get lost.

“Namjoon?” the second man asked, his gaze sliding back and forth between you and the hybrid named Namjoon. “What’s going on here? Who is that?”

“I don’t know who that is. But she’s with RCH.”

The other man drew in a sharp breath. “Are you sure?” His gaze was on you and you couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, you looked down at your dirty sneakers, their color barely visible under the mud. “Look at her, she doesn’t seem like one of them to me.”

“Yeah, that’s what they want.” The man - Namjoon as you corrected yourself, because having a name made him a little less scary - stepped toward the other, pulling you along with him whether you wanted to or not. “As if they send pitties or boxers… she’d probably like to gain our trust.”

The other man smiled faintly. The first positive reaction you’d seen in hours. “Don’t you think you’re being a little too paranoid, Joonie? She’s a hybrid, just like us, and she looks like she’s been out in this storm for hours.”

“That’s not my problem, Jimin.” Namjoon’s voice was cold, his statement definitive. With that, he walked past Jimin and you had trouble keeping up. You hadn’t known Namjoon long, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he dragged you all the way if you fell.

“Where are you going?” Jimin caught up with you and walked on your other side.

“Like I’m leaving her here.” Hope welled up in you. “The bitch will betray us for sure.”

Hope was something you hadn’t lost all these years. All the disappointments it had brought still hadn’t taken away your hope that maybe the world wasn’t as dark and bad as it kept trying to show you.

But maybe it was time for you to stop being so naive.

You put your free hand on Namjoon’s hand and tried to pull on it. Another growl followed your actions and before you knew it, you were lying on your back on the forest ground, the pressure on your wrist finally gone. Instead, you felt something cold against your throat.

“Namjoon!”

You couldn’t see what Jimin was doing because Namjoon was taking up your entire field of vision. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Namjoon holding something in his hand and pressing it against your neck.

“Namjoon, this is going too far.”

You heard Jimin take another step toward you. Namjoon’s head snapped in his direction and his growl made Jimin freeze. “I’m in charge here, Jimin. I’m the pack leader. You got a problem with that?”

His voice sent a shiver down your spine, and even if you weren’t a wolf, you knew what he was implying with his question. Jimin didn’t say another word. Then Namjoon turned back to you. “And you will do as I say, too. Understood?”

You nodded, ever so slightly for fear of the blade hurting your skin. Almost unnoticeably, Namjoon exhaled, but you noticed. Watched as his shoulders slumped slightly before he released the blade from your neck and pulled you back to your feet. This time you didn’t resist and did your best to keep up with Namjoon. Again and again your eyes flitted to him, looking at his profile in the dim light, because it had become evening in the meantime.

In the distance you recognized a flickering light, a fire, as you realized a little later. You stepped into a small meadow and in the middle of it stood a wooden hut that looked as if it would fall apart at the slightest gust of wind. The fire, which you had smelled some time ago, blazed high and illuminated the dark night and only now you noticed how it had stopped raining. You were frozen to the bone and wanted nothing more than to sit by the fire. If there were not three other figures who had already made themselves comfortable in front of this very fire.

Fear ran through you again, and maybe it was because Namjoon had picked up speed and was dragging you along with him, but you slipped as you took your next step. Your knees were numb by now from the previous fall, so this time you only noticed the pain in your one palm, which you used to break your fall. Twigs and small pebbles dug into your flesh and you squinted your eyes as pain shot through you.

“Get up.” Namjoon tugged at your wrist, trying to get you to stand, but you couldn’t. Your legs felt like rubber and your body was so heavy you could barely hold yourself up. The next moment you felt mud on your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed how you had closed your eyes. The earth shook beneath you as several feet came running toward you. Voices mixed in your head in a strange jumble that you couldn’t tell apart, which only made the roaring in your head worse.

You thought you were being lifted up, but maybe that was just your body slipping into a deep sleep of exhaustion.

Written 2022. Do not copy, translate or repost without permission.

#hybrid bts #hybrid!bts #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #bangtanarmynet #wolf hybrid jungkook #dog hybrid reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfction #jungkook x reader #bts hybrid #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

dourpeep · 3 years

Note

Hello, i want to req kazuha x f!reader and if you can do nsfw, please 👉🏻👈🏻 since it's kazuha, maybe he's more like soft!dom. Thank you!

IEHFIEH OKAY OKAY I got really excited about writing this so it's a WHOPPING 3K WORDS! So many words

Kazuha's another Xiao situation for me, it seems...not to mention my favorite to write is very painfully obviously soft doms. That being said, I did make him a little more flirty than his voice lines suggest.

The poem that is referenced in the fic is In the Sea of Iwami by Kakinomoto Hitomaro!

Drowning in You

Summary: At first, you know little of the mysterious ronin's past, but little by little, you find your fates entwined.

Contains: ((NSFW 18+)) Kazuha x afab!reader, soft dom!Kazuha, reader is traveler but not Aether or Lumine, small mention of alcohol, hint of overstim, poetic

How vast, the ocean seems to be, even more so in the dark of night. Above, the sky is a spattered array with thousands of glittering stars, the moon but a sliver. The ship gently rocks in the calm waters as a meager dot upon waves. Despite the moon's position already setting back down along the dark curtain of night and the crew's final decision to retire to their quarters, you're awake.

Lost in all the thoughts of how you've just begun to experience all Liyue has only to now be well on your way to Inazuma.

The dangers that others have spoken of, that you know are to come…you’re sure that your resolve will be tested once more in the unfamiliar land.

The silent repose is interrupted by a voice.

"May I join you, traveler?"

Kazuha.

As you've come to find in the few days you've been aboard the Alcor, the red-dressed man often sits and watches the way the waves roll along the surface of the ocean and the birds soar across the sky. Lost in all that the sea has to offer, there's hardly a moment when he's not tuned in to the whispers of nature in quiet appreciation. Though, you notice, never this toward morning.

Shuffling to the side, you pat the solid wooden deck beside you. He takes a seat with legs folded beneath him.

"It's beautiful tonight—the gentle breeze, the sounds of the water hitting the hull...I fully understand the appeal. But why is it you're still awake?"

Before tonight, you've hardly heard the gentle timbre of his voice. The raspiness—whether natural or from his own fatigue, you're not sure, but a feeling of warmth settles. It swirls, tempting. Breaking your thoughts, you politely meet his gaze.

"Thinking, of everything, I guess."

You pull your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them. Though it’s a warm night, the breeze provides a chill from the ocean.

"Of Inazuma, too."

Kazuha hums in understanding.

Once more, the silence of the ship and sea envelop you to drift back to your thoughts, closing your eyes and forgetting what your handsome companion just stirred in you.

But your mind drifts back to him regardless.

Your heart quickens at the thought of him staring out towards the sea, the sun shining down just right and highlighting pale hair and scarlet eyes.

There’s little doubt that he’s caught your eye, handsome, with an aura of unknown strength. A wanted man, from what Beidou has told you. Forever on the run and far from home. She fully believes there’s no need to worry, but you know others might think otherwise.

They whisper how it’s certain with the breathtaking skill he displays in his swordsmanship that his abilities come from a multitude of experience. Speaking of the way he keeps so to himself. A samurai with a lack of a master.

A ronin.

It’s not surprising, the rumors that spread quick.

Though, you find, the speculation of danger quickly dissipates once the realization of his gentle spirit and knack for poetry comes to light. He’s gentle, you realize. Kind.

It’s hard to believe someone as free-spirited as he would be a criminal.

Kazuha is patient, body turned so he’s facing you while you think, examining the look upon your features. The realization that you’ve been lost in your thoughts about the very man warms your cheeks. You finally speak up.

“And you?”

“Most of the same,” He replies. “There’s no need to worry—about Inazuma, I mean. After what I’ve seen, I trust in your abilities.”

His hand settles atop one of yours. Its touch is warm.

“I may not be able to join you, but I’m sure of this.”

You look back out to the deep blue waters. But he doesn’t move, not until you look back into eyes the color of the very maple leaves he dons.

Expression serious, Kazuha leans closer. The skip in your chest worsens the heat that creeps up your neck and cheeks. But as quickly as he does, he pulls away, his hand returning to lay in his lap.

“Away I have come, parting from her / Even as the creeping vines do part. / My heart aches within me…”

Wistful, he recites, and turns his gaze to the moon.

“A poem, from my homeland. Bittersweet in it’s meaning. Whether he sees his lover upon his return—it isn’t known.”

“Do you? Miss someone?”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not quite in the same way. A friend. Though I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to have someone like that. Someone to hold so dearly within your very being that the thought of being without them brings physical pain…”

A hand lifts, pressing to his chest as if trying to feel for heaviness.

The two of you watch the night for a bit longer in silence.

As your long and arduous journey dwindles, you find yourself seeking Kazuha’s company more and more.

Unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

Most often, it’s between duties on the ship, arms leaning against the wood banister as you both watch the waves and birds as they meet in swoops. They glide with wings tucked, diving into the murky waters, soon to break back through with a prize.

An osprey, he tells you.

The pleasant bird-watching comes quickly to an end before you’re both swept back into work until late afternoon when the crew gathers to drink and celebrate.

After all, there’s only a few days left until you finally dock at your destination and the night is beautiful and clear.

You find Kazuha tucked away towards the quarterdeck.

With everyone else scattered on the main deck, the two of you are left alone with the waves and wind.

“You’re not going to join them?”

He looks up from his drink, setting it down before rising. Despite the way the sun has set, you can clearly see the mirth dancing in his eyes. Kazuha stops a few inches away from your face with his head tilted in question.

“Weeks we have known each other now…should I be offended that you’re still asking that?”

Clearly the unimpressed look on your face is enough to make him chuckle and apologize.

“No, I won’t be joining them. Not when I’d rather stay away and have you to myself instead.”

You flush and give him a little push. Again, he laughs and apologizes but you know that he doesn’t mean it. Regardless, you brush past him to sit where he was before, patting the deck in a way not different from that first night. All the same, your heart skips a beat.

“May I join you, traveler?”

A smile spreads across your lips. “Of course.”

So he sits and the two of you find solace in the little conversations you have.

It’s nice, to have someone to be close to, to share interests despite having backgrounds so distinct. He offers you a bit of his drink and you take a sip, holding it between both your hands. The face you make, he decides, is unforgettable just as it is hilarious. But his innocent enjoyment only lasts so long.

A dribble of the deep liquid beads at the corner of your lip.

You miss the way that his attention flicks to the way your tongue peeks out to catch the glistening drop.

Kazuha shifts, eyes flicking from your lip back down to the cup in your hand.

When his hand touches yours, guiding you to place the cup down, you snort. But he continues so he can interlace your fingers with his, to hear the way your breath shifts and sees how your pupils dilate when you realize the difference in his mood.

Would you mind if he were to…?

When your lips part and your eyes lower to his, he gets his answer.

"I hear the way that your heart beats loudly in your chest, your breath bated...” Really, his own hammers in his chest, louder than the crash of waves against the ship’s hull. He squeezes your hand.

“Just as I can feel your desire."

And truthfully, you know he’s noticed the way your gaze lingers on him. How when you two accidentally brush hands that you don’t immediately pull away. Not anymore.

Small flashes of little interactions with him come to light.

Finally, he leans in, and you find that his lips taste of the lingering bitterness of wine, tongue sweet as it laps at yours. He looses himself in the velvet of your lips and how they seem to meld to his so perfectly, the music of your sighs filling his senses and your heart beats like the rumble of the ocean.

To know what it’s like to hold someone so dear…this must be what that is.

Languid, your lips move against each other’s, reluctant to stop. Under the light of the maroon sky, you’re cloaked in the warmth of his body against yours.

When he finally parts, you’re laying against the deck with him hovering above you.

“I don’t want to regret this—the mere thought of being apart…”

He brushes a stray hair from your face, fingertips tracing over the curve of your cheek.

“Even if it means I will be risking my life, I will follow where you go. Destiny has made its mark, so who am I to break it?”

How can you refuse, seeing the sincerity of his vow, trusting the very man you met and befriended and come to love in a few weeks’ time? To know his gentle nature, the way that he seems always so aware of the world around him, the carefree way he approaches all he does—you’d known, somewhere deep within, that the moment he asks to accompany you, you’d selfishly say yes.

But it’s all too much to express in word, so you pull him down to meet you, desperate and yearning.

It’s easy, natural, the way that you melt into each other, fumbling as he helps you stand up—to make your way to his quarters between kisses.

The others still are above deck celebrating, unaware of the blossoming bloom between you, the private quarters void of anyone else. The door to his room swings open as soon as he turns the knob and you take him by his lapels and pull him inside.

The door closes with a soft click.

Setting you down upon his berth, he meets you for another kiss before beginning the tedious task of undressing. Even in a hurry, he carefully folds each article, ensuring their safety. When he turns, you’re left bare as well, looking at him through halfmoon eyes.

In his lungs, his breath is caught.

You’re beautiful.

So he says it in word and in the way that he guides you to lay with his body between your spread legs.

You utter his name, cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch while you guide him back down to you. It takes little for him to follow your movements, drawn in like the sweet song of a siren.

He claims you in the kisses peppered over your lips and jaw, dragging down to dip in the hollow of your neck. Beneath him, your pulse jumps and your neck flexes. So he continues, reverent. Pledging loyalty with every brush of his lips against your skin.

Yours, all yours.

Busied with the sensation of him, you relax, offering yourself to his touch. His unbandaged hand travels over the soft planes of your body, cupping breasts and hip, careful as it travels to press fingertips into your thigh. It lingers, so close.

The feel of your hand timid on his chest encourages him to explore the sensitive skin of your inner thigh before finally, finally tracing along your wetted cunt.

“Please—”

His fingers tease, sliding up and down along it, making you shiver beneath him. A sight to behold, one that makes his heart sing and stutter at once. And they draw out a shaky moan when they press into you.

He takes his time in the movement of his fingers, coaxing you with a curve and the dulcet tone of his voice in your ear.

Left with his name on your tongue, your arms wrap around his neck, wanting him closer, closer. He obliges. All you want in this moment is him—impatience running quick.

Kazuha is taken by surprise when you take him into your hand, marveling at the way his hips press closer to your touch.

It’s strange to be touched this way, even with his past experiences. How it feels to be caressed by you so intimately, just the idea of it being you beneath him, touching him, him touching you. He wants more of it. And so he bucks into your hand with hot desire coursing through his veins.

For a while, the two of you delight in each other’s bodies.

When he draws his fingers from your core, he doesn’t bother with the way your slick clings to his skin, replacing your hand around his cock with his own and propping himself up with legs kneeled and hips slotted between yours.

With bated breath you observe as he gazes into your eyes.

Even so smoldered with desire, they’re impossibly clear and gentle, reflecting the very swirl of emotions you feel with every thump of your pulse. Leaning closer, Kazuha brushes his lips to yours, slow.

“You’re trembling—are you cold?”

The room feels fine despite your state of undress, though he continues before you can speak.

“Allow me to warm you up...”

When he finally kisses you deep, his hips press into yours and fill you.

The ship sways, each rock back and fourth amplified with how he holds you close to him, how he whispers sweetly in your ear and describes just how good it feels for you to squeeze around him like that. Once more you’re swept into all he gives you.

Kazuha thrusts, every movement deliciously slow. The brush of his cock against your walls makes your eyes flutter and your lips part with every gasp.

Every sigh draws him in deeper. Slow, fluid.

With the ebb and flow of his movements, you find yourself lost. He is the raging tempest dragging you down to the murky depths yet is the same gentle wind that cools you. You’re lost in the way that he moans your name in your ear and hips barely pull away from yours before burying back deep.

You—spread beneath him with your legs bent to his sides—in the dim light drives him. Kazuha finds that no matter where he looks, how close his body is pressed to yours, it’s never quite enough. Every sigh that’s drawn from your lungs is the voice that calls to him to wander.

He’s mesmerized.

Each push stirs that need in you for more, coming to life in the way that your body arches to meet his. Almost…as if feeling him against you is your lifeline—a deep, unyielding need. The same strange feeling that he knows is coming to life within him. And with how you so sweetly grasp at his shoulders in your hands, he’s certain it is.

His arm slides down, hand flat against your lower back to lift your hips. Eager, you comply. A few strokes of his hips with the delicious drag provided by the new angle, and you cry out in whimpers.

“Right there—please, please-“

Murmuring your name, his lips press to your ear and his hips speed up as he searches for that spot once more. He’s good—feels so so good.

A kiss to your temple accompanies the quick build of the knot deep in your abdomen, pulling taut and teasing your release.

“Where should I touch you?” The croon of his voice calls.

You guide his hand between your writhing bodies, a shock of pleasure jolting when the pad of his finger brushes against where you’re most sensitive. Only moments pass before your vision flickers, body tensing and a choked moan escaping past your ruddied lips.

It’s too much—his careful movements to hit the right spot and the way his fingers trace over your skin and he finds himself lost in the feeling as well. The lingering feeling of your high sends shocks with every movement he gives, both of you left trembling. Shaky hands try to grab at his chest and arm, pulling it away.

He stills, just holding you close.

He can feel it again, the flutter of your pulse, when his lips pepper kisses along your jaw and neck to bring you back to him.

Finally back from your high, Kazuha carefully slides from within you in lieu of laying by your side. You’re still breathing hard when careful movements pull the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of your forms. With an arm draped over your now covered hip, he smiles soft.

The wind howls outside.

"Do you really mean it, Kazuha?”

He lifts his arm so you can turn onto your side, looking up at him with your head on the pillow. It’s cute the way the soft material forms around your cheek. But you’re still waiting for his answer.

The ronin simply places a kiss on your forehead, the warm brush of his lips punctuating his words.

“I will follow you til the day the sun ceases to shine—so long as you are by my side, the wind shall blow and the tides ebb. This shall be my vow to you...”

It isn’t until your expression relaxes, lulled to sleep by his warmth and the gentle rock of the ocean, eyes closed and your breathing even that he speaks once more. It’s quiet, save for the creaking of wood and the faraway shouts of the crew above in their revelry. Here, laying besides you, the feeling within his chest carefully tended to, Kazuha finds a new purpose. A newfound desire.

“…whom I love with a love / deep as the miru-growing ocean.”

#kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fics #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #oh my god this took so long I'm sorry dear anon-#anon asks #this is all for u anon and Kazu simps come and get ya juice sip sip

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hareharrison · 3 years

Text

hold me

pairing: george harrison x reader

summary: george is in the process of finishing abbey road, and has been repeatedly coming home frustrated. instead of talking to you about it, he distances himself completely, and only speaks to you in annoyance or anger, and lashes out on you. he doesn’t know how much it affects you and one day comes home to the effects firsthand.

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, angy geo, neurodivergent reader, invasive thoughts, mental breakdown/panic attack, but it works out in the end

a/n: hayyyy ok so i wrote this as a comfort fic for myself, and i decided to post it cause why not. i struggle with intense fear of abandonment cause of bpd haha fun 😐and wanted to make it from the POV of a neurodivergent reader?? so this is like a comfort fic for ND readers?? idk if i need to put any other potential trigger warnings for this but if i do please lmk and i will fix it

year: 1969

the flat was quiet without him. to be honest, it was quiet with or without him, lately. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, george had been distant. he was always a quiet person, but he has never dismissed you this much. you knew that his job could be tiring and you tried not to overthink it, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. a voice in your head was planting horrible ideas, saying things like, “you fucked up, he doesn’t like you anymore, you’re annoying.” but still, you pushed on and tried your best to ignore the noise in your brain.

you sigh heavily and slide back into the couch. you had the next two days off of work, and nothing to do. george of course had to work on your days off, which left you alone at home. with your thoughts. it was hard getting through today, your intrusive thoughts were particularly loud... but he would be home any minute now, which brought on a bit of hope; seeing him should rid you of your own jailhoused mind.

the tv played some sitcom in front of you, which you had no interest in. all you could think about was if you ruined things. what if he was thinking of leaving you? it would be your fault... and yet you couldn’t think of a single thing you’ve ever done that might have hurt him.

the door opened gently and let in a cool draft that brushed against your warm skin. you look toward the entrance, seeing your george sigh heavily with exhaustion as he took his shoes and coat off. he looked up to you, his boldly furrowed brows softening.

“hi, love,” he says, walking toward you. you stand and approach him to greet him with a quick kiss. he holds you for a little longer than usual, and you take the opportunity to melt into his arms and breathe in his smell, something you’d been deprived of recently. he rests his chin on top of your head, which laid comfortably on his rising chest. it was moments like this that made all your worries slip away, moments like this that you wished you could cling onto forever and ever.

“how was your day?” you ask, finally leaning back to look up at him. he lets go of you and runs a hand through his long hair.

“not good,” he says, a frown on his perfectly sculpted face. you return his expression at the sight of him being sad. quickly, you remember your dinner ideas. maybe that would cheer him up.

“hey, maybe we can go get something to eat? maybe get your mind off of things?” you suggest, looking up at his brown eyes. he looks down at you, eyes full of regret.

“i’m sorry love, but i’d rather just head to bed already,” he says remorsefully. you smile softly and reassure him that it’s okay and he should get some rest. but part of you breaks inside, knowing he doesn’t want to spend time with you.

he headed upstairs and you followed, the painful ideas returning at full speed.

“you’re so annoying, of course he doesn’t want to spend any time with you. you’re so annoying and clingy,” your brain says and you flinch at the harsh thoughts. through your entire bedtime routine, thoughts flooded your mind and filled your entire being up, and you felt like you were being drowned from the inside out. george stood next to you as you both brushed your teeth, not speaking a single word to you or giving you a single glance. you changed into one of george’s t-shirts and watched as he slid out of his clothes and into his pajamas in seconds. he muttered a monotone, “good night,” before turning on his side, his back facting you.

as much as you didn’t want to, you believed the mean voices and hung your head as you got into bed next to george.

you slept back to back that night.

————————————————————

the sun seeped into your room through your windows, and invaded your bed, waking you rather unpleasantly. you groan lightly as you reached over your bed for george, but only found empty space. his side of the bed was cold, indicating that he’d been up for a while now.

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes as the aromas of freshly brewed coffee and morning dew hit your senses. you hear the song of the early birds chirping as your feet hit the cool floor. as you head downstairs, you can hear george on the phone, and you soon see him muttering softly before taking a long drag from his cigarette. you don’t bother him, seeing that there was paperwork on the table and his call must be business related. naturally, you decide to head for the coffee, the smell luring you in like a fish.

you poured the hot, dark liquid into your favorite mug and add in your preferred amounts of cream and sugar. looking out the window, you see water drip gently from the leaves of a tree that george and you had planted a year ago. you sip your coffee and reminisce about the times you used to actually spend time with george. how nice it was, seeing him smile so often.

you suddenly hear george raise his voice at the phone, something unlike him entirely. you jump at the unpleasant sound before peeking through the hallway to see what on earth was happening.

“no, i don’t care! i want the bloody bastard fired, in fact, tell him not to bother showing up today,” he shouts into the phone before slamming it down, placing his head between his knees and groaning in frustration. seeing george this upset and acting out on it was truly a rare sighting, and you thought carefully about what to next.

after careful consideration, you tiptoe into the room and gently rest a hand on his shoulder, the sudden contact making him flinch.

“christ, (y/n) are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?” he grumbles before lighting another cigarette.

“sorry,” you say softly, “would you like some tea?” you figure it could calm his anger and soothe some of his abnormal irritability.

“what? tea? there’s already coffee made,” he says rudely. you take a step back, saying nothing. you know that you didn’t do anything and that this behavior would pass. george was never like this. your eyes find the time and see that george should have left ten minutes ago.

“george, you’re gonna be late to work,” you say, thinking you could at least do something helpful. his head snaps back at you and his once soft face turned hard with anger.

“what are you implying? you want me gone?” he stands up and angrily grabs all of the papers scattered on the table, shoving them into a folder and the folder into his bag, “fine, i’ll leave. im out the door.”

you look at him in confusion, you’d barely woken up and were just trying to help, “what’s the matter with you?”

“what’s the matter with me,” he repeats, looking away and scoffing. he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, “im sick of this, (y/n)! im sick of life. i come home exhausted and you have half a mind to ask me if i want to talk about it!”

“you always want to go straight to bed,” you defend yourself, hurt that he would even suggest that you don’t care about him. his dark eyes glare into your own for a moment that feels like hours, trying to think of somethig clever to say in response, but he just wasn’t ever much of a fighter. he finally chooses to put his cigarette out on the table’s ashtray and grab his coat. if you wanted him out of the house, he was more than happy to comply.

“george-“ you start.

“no,” he cuts you off, “don’t say anything right now, i can’t even look at you.” and he doesn’t, he ignores your presence entirely as he picks up his bag and walks out the door.

you’re left in the cold house, alone, hurt, and dumbfounded. you couldn’t believe what had just happened. you couldn’t believe that george, your george, had taken his anger out on you, simply for trying to help his morning be less shitty. worse than that, he thought you wanted him gone, when all you wanted was to be with him. is this how it was going to be now? a bitter, loveless relationship? your eyes sting with fresh tears at the thought, and a huge lump in your throat grows painfully. you take a deep breath before heading upstairs. you wanted anything but to cry this early in the morning, and the only reason you got up somewhat early was to see george before he left to work. now that your morning was ruined, you figured heading back to bed was the next best thing.

you climb back into your shared bed, suppressing your emotions with the warmth of your fluffy blankets and soft pillows. the comfort of a bed felt almost like a hug, and you sighed, letting the pain drift away as you fell asleep.

————————————————————

when you opened your eyes, the realization hit you. you’d slept until the sun began to set, completely ignoring your emotions, stuffing them down inside of you like an overflowing trash can. being awake made them fling right back at you; sleeping didn’t change a thing, and was only a temporary pause in your pain.

all of your feelings came back to you at once, and it once again felt like you were drowning internally. only this time, the thoughts weren’t the invasive factor. your emotions were overwhelmingly intense on top of your brain practically screaming horrible things to you. your breathing quickens as you feel tears slide down your face. this time you werent able to swallow the thick lump in your throat, and you began to weep softly.

this was it, george was leaving you. he hates you, he wants nothing to do with you. there was nothing you could do but hug your knees and cry. you choked on a sob and started rocking back and forth in attempts to try to soothe yourself. but you couldn’t stop, it felt like your entire world was falling apart. you soon began to have shortness of breath and struggled with your breathing, feeling your heart beat at an intense rate that you couldn’t control.

your bedroom door opens, revealing george’s early arrival. he immediately rushes to your side, afraid to touch you but wanting so bad to comfort you.

“(y/n)? (y/n), breathe. breathe, baby,” he takes your hand and you look at him. you aren’t sure if him being here is making the situation better or worse. seeing him try to help you stirred all kinds of feelings in your mind. you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, like you didn’t deserve his help.

george begins breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth, gently guiding you and hoping you will try to do the same. he sits in front of you on the bed and holds your face in his gentle hands. you look up into his eyes, the chocolate features of his face soothing you as your breath began to steady.

“that’s it,” he encourages.

“do you hate me?” you cry softly.

“what? no, (y/n), i’d give my life for yours, do you know that? you’re so, very special to me,” he slides over to sit beside you on the bed and wraps his long arms around you.

“why are you so distant?” you look up at him, and tears continue to roll down your flushed cheeks, “you acted so mean to me this morning, i feel like you want nothing to do with me.”

george is hurt by your words. he truly didn’t mean to be distant, and he never wanted to hurt you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, “ive been so overwhelmed i haven’t stopped to think of how you must feel. im really sorry my love i never meant to hurt you like this.” he embraces you tightly and you give into his comforting touch, wrapping your arms around his torso and digging your face into his chest.

you take a deep breath, “i understand,” you say before looking up to him to whisper, “i miss you. i miss us.”

“i miss you too darling,” he pauses for a moment, “how about i take tomorrow off? we can do whatever you’d like.”

you sniffle, “what about the album? the deadline?”

“i can fake sick. nothing is more important to me than you,” he says, “i want nothing more than to be with you. i love you so much.”

you smile when he presses a soft kiss to your aching head, “now how about we go have something to eat? i’m starved.”

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Note

34 for Kaeya please? 🥺

Hi Anon!

Ahem, when it comes to Kaeya, I always get a little excited. And I am also afraid because I am always in doubt if all this in the future will prove to be extremely OOC, but I cannot know this yet.

(Anyway, it's angst/comfort, but if you just want angst and just angst then you can stop before "...")

Hope you like it anyway!

66- Genshin Impact, Kaeya Alberich x Reader

From the prompt list

34- “Will you miss me at all?”

"I give you my heart completely, it is yours, I give it to you." The Captain of the Knights of Favonius had whimpered as he comically clung to the half-empty mug.

You smiled with a slight sigh: "Your heart is mine as it is owned by all of Mondstadt."

His pleading face had turned into an offended pout as he threw the remaining alcohol down his throat.

"Hey, my heart isn't that cheap!" He had almost scolded you as he slammed his empty glass on the wooden table.

You don't know what you'd give to hear those stupid flirtations of him right now. Those sweet and mean jokes that sometimes flattered you, sometimes made you laugh, and still others hurt you.

You don't know what you'd give to run to the tavern to share a drink with him, to hear him laugh, to get mad at him or to be able to feel the warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

But all you feel is the wet cold that threatens rain, a bitter and hateful cold, a miserable and dead cold that you would have gladly exchanged to curl up in the dry and majestic chill of ice.

"Kaeya ..." His name escapes your lips like a faint prayer as you look at his one visible closed eye "Kaeya, don't sleep ... who's the lazy one, huh?"

You swallow as your fingers brush his blood-soaked hair. You caress his cold cheeks, you cuddle his head as it rests in your lap. "Everything will be fine ..." you whisper to him "everything will be fine ..." you try to convince yourself.

A rumble too close makes you scream. Your arms instinctively pick up the knight's helpless body and your body bends over him to protect him.

What is happening? You don't even remember, you don't even know, probably.

"Kaeya don't sleep ..." You repeat again, holding on to every faint breath of him.

"Hey…"

For a moment you don't even distinguish that that's his voice, for a moment you think you've just imagined it, that you've mistaken a breath of wind for the sound of him.

But weak and frail, Kaeya calls you back to him.

You call him too, a new hope is born in your gaze, now that you can admire his iris periwinkle of him.

Your voice trembles, like your hands, and your lungs. It hurts you to breathe as long as you need to cry, but you resist and instead you go back to caressing him slowly, trying to give him relief, affection, whatever you can give him in that moment - all your heart.

"Kaeya, hold on, you'll be fine." Try to put all the conviction you can into it "You were great."

On his tired and dirty face you can still see the ghost of that smile so familiar to you, yet in him there is a sadness that you do not know how to erase.

Your fingers intertwine with his blue locks, which loose and wild now rest on him, and on you.

"Always so kind ..." His murmur is sweet, yet it burns like a hot iron. What is his personality is drowned in melancholy and fear.

You would like to tell him that you are not kind, you have never been, but his face leaning towards you in search of your warmth silences you. Why does everything, from his smile, to his breath, to his blinking, smell of latest deeds?

"I think ... it's selfish to ask you ..." he gently calls all your attention "but ... will you miss me at all?"

You had prayed until then that he would not speak, not hint at that dark prospect. Because you know that at this point you can no longer breathe, the tears that blurred your vision can no longer be held back, and your throat hurts so much as you try not to sob.

How could you ever imagine getting up tomorrow knowing that Kaeya is gone? How could you tackle the streets of Mondstadt remembering his footsteps, his voice behind the walls, and his smiles peeking out from around the corner? How could you have tolerated the scent of Death after Noon anymore? How could you ever face Teyvat, the whole world, who would have moved on without him?

"Yes ... it's selfish ..." your murmur is so broken that you hardly understand it yourself, and you clear your throat, forcing yourself to be firm in your words "You said it's mine ... isn't it?"

Your hand slides across his chest, still warm under your cold numb fingers.

Under his skin you can feel the faint pulsing movement, like a little bird moving under your palm. And you pray with all of yourself, so that this little bird doesn't stop flying.

“You gave it to me… right? Here inside of you ... here is my heart. You can't be so selfish as to take it away from me, right? Sure ... sure I will miss my heart ... "Your every word turns into prayer, supplication, to the Archons, to heaven, to whatever can save him.

Your eyes can't see his expression, not now that your face is hidden in his hair and tears run down your cheeks without giving you peace.

Your fingers grip his clothes as if they could hold him there one last time, before he is pushed away from you and arms of fire envelop you.

"I'll miss you…"

. . .

Kaeya listened to every beat of his heart. Even in the dark, all he cared about was feeling that constant movement inside his body.

"So good." he thought every time the muscle twitched "keep it up, like a good guy."

Even when his pupils began to perceive reddish hues behind his eyelids and distant voices began to reach his ears, Kaeya never stopped worrying about that heartbeat that had suddenly become like this. precious.

The object that is pushed into his throat is so bitter that he would like to spit it out without restraint, but with a big sip of water he forces it to fall into his stomach. Anything to help that heart to beat stronger and more vigorous again.

"Kaeya ..." Your weak voice reaches him, and his only eye that can see crosses you.

"Hey ..." He greets you with a smile, one of his.

He doesn't think you've ever seen him in bed, covered in bandages as he is now. It is already a lot if he can sit in that semi-sitting position, leaning against the pillow on the headboard of the bed.

"You have finally arrived." He barely laughs as you shyly approach his bedside. You still look shaken, you look tired, you look like a frightened fawn.

"They wouldn't let me come ..." guilty whispers "they thought ... they thought it was better that I didn't see ..."

You don't continue the sentence, but he knows it. He had foreseen that ending, not that he was happy about it, but he had thought that dying in your arms wasn't such a bad ending, at least until he met your pain.

"Ah ... I had a bad time huh?" He laughs, but you don't. He's back to himself, or he never stopped being, but the sight of him so miserable can't hearten you, it's as if you still fear for him.

"... You really would have missed me." The realization he exhibits is not playful. It is quiet, but serious and light, as if he hadn't really believed it up until that moment.

Your shoulders shake again, under the weight of the anguish you have endured, under the pressure you never gave in. Because while you waited you never cried, nor bowed your head, it was not your right to do so.

But now that he's okay, you can cry over his wounds and you can throw all the fear out of yourself.

"Oh ... what a bad knight I am, I made you cry again ..." he murmurs, but there is no real guilt in his voice, but a tender affection for you "come here, let me make me forgive."

His arm gently pulls you towards him, letting you rest against his chest.

"Listen" he murmurs as he rests his cheek on your head "I protected your heart like you asked me, I was good, right?"

He wouldn't need to take on other responsibilities, he already has a lot of them, more than you think, yet he can't help but take care of you. He loves you so much that he is even willing to live if that makes you happy.

"You've been good."

#genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #genshin kaeya #genshin oneshot #genshin x reader #angst/comfort #angst/fluff #angst

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝕴'𝖉 𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖓 (𝕶𝖎𝖒 𝕳𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖏𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖌) 𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐀𝐔, 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: "𝐈'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞... 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧.."- 𝐈'𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧- 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.2K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦/𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧! 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧),

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @hanatiny @galaxteez @deja-vux @brie02 @a-soft-hornytiny @daniblogs164 @multidreams-and-desires @rvse-miingi @couchpotatoaniki

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The crowd trailed behind the entourage that was passing through the streets, all of them dressed in black mourning clothes as the priest leading them recited solemn verses in the Latin language that hardly any of the villagers understood. The only other sound besides the collective steps of their feet was the heart wrenching wailing coming from the grief stricken mother who clutched tightly onto the casket that held her deceased daughter's body, the corpse pale as snow while the darkened black lips struck out in sharp contrast. The bystanders looked at the now childless parents with pity, some of the men taking off their caps and draping it across their chest to show respect, while some of the women clutched their own children closely to them, fearing that perhaps one of their own might become the next victim in the series of horrific and unnatural deaths that were suddenly spiking up out of nowhere. The skies had been a smokey gray for quite some time, sunshine hadn't hit them ever since these horrible misfortunes started happening. The town was swept by death, causing a somber and haunting atmosphere that sent chills down the spines of even the bravest of men.

Some distance away from the funeral mass, a gloomy looking nobleman watched from on top of his horse as they marched towards the cemetary, the loud ringing of the church bell behind him adding a more dark effect to the event. He took a deep breath at the scene, these types of things no longer affecting him, he had become quite numb to them after having seen and witnessed so many of them. Still, he felt bothered by the fact that they had yet to find a solution to the problem. Ever since he and other nobles from the area, and even some from neighboring towns, were tasked with the mission of finding the root of the evil sending doom upon the towns and villages, they had hardly gotten any rest from the endless crying demands for answers from the peasants, from the king and parliament putting pressure on them to get things fixed and their own minds starting to crumble from seeing death everywhere.

Hearing the rattling of chains being scraped across the stone pavement, he turned his head to see 4 armored knights dragging a poor young woman. The tiny and frail thing already had scrapes across her body, her tired and sore limbs could barely stand up as she was being led to her execution. Her pleading and cries stating her innocence fell upon deaf ears, just like her predecessors. No matter how much she begged to be spared or asked for help, she was only met with disdainful and hate filled stares from anyone that saw, some even going as far as cursing or spitting at her direction. That was another scene that had become weekly thing, but unlike the other which didn't faze him, this was the one that still affected him greatly:

The burnings at the stakes of the supposed witches.

The galloping of another horse signaled that someone else was approaching him. Tugging gently at his trusted steed, he shifted to the right so he could welcome the person coming up to him, their horse neighing loudly as it came to a stop.

"Any reports Hongjoong?" He recognized the male as one of the noblemen he was closer to, though he wouldn't necessarily call him a friend.

Shaking his head, the raven haired male drew out an exhausted sigh.

"Not since the last one I sent, Chan. There's nothing much to detail right now. We either have to wait until the next child dies or until the next person is captured and tried for witchcraft." He gulped as he feared that the latter would be the case.

"I take it you saw the one we just caught?" Chan asked.

Hongjoong merely nodded, his partner seeming satisfied.

"Hopefully that's the last of them bloody pagans. Causing nothing but trouble in the kingdom, I wish they all died."

He wasn't surprised to hear his comrades or otherwise talk so spitefully against so called witches. He was very well aware of their hatred for them, blaming them for all the bad things that occurred to them such as famines, bad weather, plagues and other misfortunes.

"Are we even certain that it truly is them to blame for all these things?"

Chan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oi mate, don't tell me you're actually softening up to them? Everyone knows witches are the devil's workers sent out to strike us with all sorts of evils. If we get rid of them, we'll finally have some peace around here."

Hongjoong resisted the urge to roll his eyes or say something else. He knew how dangerous it was to voice out anything that went against the population opinion, and his status as one of the elite ranked nobles wouldn't spare him either. So instead he just kept quiet, and tried to do his job as best he could without having to point fingers or arrest anyone in the process. He definitely didn't want anymore innocent people burned just to satisfy the sadistic and twisted desires of others.

"I best be going now. I'm going to take one last look around the outskirts of town and see if I find anything unusual."

Chan commended his partner and wished him good fortune, he himself turning the other direction to oversee the burning that was about to happen. Kicking his horse's abdomen gently, Hongjoong raced through the streets, passing all the houses and farmlands, carefully making his way into the dense and eerie forest that was a few miles away from the town. Not one pious person dared to enter there, for there were rumors that it was the dwelling place of evil spirits, the few people who had gone in swearing on their lives that supernatural events occurred there.

But Hongjoong believed no such things nor paid attention to any of the talk such simple minded folks spewed out. Though he could not outwardly say it, he was opposed to the witch trials, believing the so called pagans to be harmless people who simply had different religious views and beliefs from the holy catholic church that predominated across the country. He was thoroughly convinced that they used brute force and drastic measures to eradicate anyone who dared present a challenge to their authority and thus strike fear into people, forcing them to stay in their churches, ruling over them with a tight iron fist.

Of course there was a time where Hongjoong himself believed in them just as the others still did. He used to be a very religious and righteous person, making sure to follow through on the customs and traditions laid out by the church and which were taught to him since infancy. There was a time he too was fervent in his endeavor to rid the country of all the heretics and pagans and hated them with a burning passion......

That is until he met one, not only seeing them up close, but he actually was saved by them when he accidentally slipped by a riverbank and nearly drowned. But he was caught and rescued. When he regained consciousness, he found himself staring up into the most beautiful [insert color] eyes that he had ever seen in his life. The kind stranger had taken him back to what he assumed was her temporary home, given that witches hardly stayed at one place for a long time. She treated the gnashes on his body that were caused by the sharp rocks and fed him some strange but delicious soups that helped him regain energy and his strength. Seeing and receiving her kindness and generosity even when she knew very well who he was had him questioning everything he was ever taught. He found himself going back into the woods, his only goal was to see her again. He visited her every time he could, growing fond of the exotic woman and developing a deep affection for her, which was more than welcomed by her as she reciprocated his feelings.

Slowly guiding his horse through the vast trees, he let out a smile as he finally spotted a familiar head of [insert color] hair. She had her back turned to him, the woman busy as she played with raven that had perched itself on her arm after being offered berries and other nuts. She whistled at it softly, giggling when the bird finished up its last morsel of food before spreading its wings and soaring high up on the sky.

"Beautiful." She couldn't help but say as she admired the way it flew across the heavens.

"Yes you are."

She was startled by the voice that suddenly spoke up behind her, but when she saw who it belonged her, her face brightened up. Quickly getting off his horse, Hongjoong ran over towards his lover who was equally sprinting over to him, careful not to stumble on her long emerald green dress. They embraced each other tightly, having gone weeks without seeing or hearing from each other.

"Thank goodness you're ok." Hongjoong whispered, placing a strong kiss on her cheek.

"My lord, I missed you." She brushed a hand across his face as she often did to feel his aura and warmth, something he learned long ago not to question. He simply allowed her to finish before taking her hand and placing kisses all over each of her fingertips.

"And I you. I missed you terribly Y/N. I thought I was going to be driven mad if I didn't see you again."

Thumbs caressing her jaw, his eyes looked into hers, silently asking for permission like they always did whenever he wanted a certain thing. Nodding enthusiastically, she pulled his body against hers and allowed him to kiss her. His kiss was desperate and full of emotions, as expected from someone who had been kept away from his love for too long. Once he got his fill of stealing more than a few kisses from her, he pulled away but still kept her at an arm's length, refusing to be separated from her.

"Are you well my love? You seem pained and agitated." She pointed out.

Hongjoong never felt any qualms about sharing his problems or thoughts with her. She wasn't oblivious to what was going on back in the town, which is why she stayed hidden, far away from prying eyes.

"Another child died recently and with that.... another trial."

Y/N shuddered slightly at the mention of the trials, not because she feared for her own life. But because she knew very well most if not all of the people who had died were all innocent and did not participate let alone knew anything about the practices she indulged in.

"It's not stopping anytime soon is it?"

Hongjoong shook his head in a defeated stance.

"Unless we find a reason as to why there are countless mortalities in the infants, they won't stop until they eliminate half of the population."

Feeling frustrated, Hongjoong walked over to one of the trees and punched the trunk, not caring that his knuckles were now scraped and had blood on them. Wanting to comfort him, Y/N wrapped her arms behind him, pulling him tightly against her body as she began singing a soft and oriental style lullaby that she'd often sing to him. He did not understand the words nor got a hint as to what the language was and he didn't dare ask. But it was soothing and healing to hear. He closed his eyes and felt himself drift off into a lucid dream in which no one else but him and Y/N existed. He began to forget about reality and instead enjoyed that moment of being with the person he loved and cherished the most. He was so enchanted by her voice he didn't even realize she had turned him around and trapped him between the tree and her body until he felt his back hit against the trunk.

Awakening from his trance, he gazed down at his lovely enchantress, his eyes lowering down to take in her curves that stood out in that tight and fitted dress she was wearing. He began to have impure thoughts and imagined what would she look like without those garments, no doubt majestic and gorgeous. Her silhouette was very desirable and he'd often fantasise about having her nude body pressed against his own. As if reading his thoughts, Y/N pressed her chest against his, rubbing her breasts against his torso which had Hongjoong inhaling sharply as he stared down at her cleavage.

"I shouldn't feel like this.." He admitted rather embarrassed, having always prided himself in being able to restrain himself from such sinful and tempting desires.

Chuckling softly, the young witch pressed open mouth kisses across his jaw, making him fall deeper into her charms, unable to resist her touches. Another thing about Y/N: she awakened some very unwholesome and carnal feelings that had been buried deep down for years. He had never looked nor thought of a woman like he did with her. Never did he feel an intense want to own her, claim her body and fill her up with his seed so they could be connected as one. But he always shyed away from fully releasing his earthly desires, afraid of not being able to satisfy her given his lack of experience.

"Oh God-" Hongjoong muttered when her mouth nibbled across his neck, teeth raking against his soft skin.

"Do you really think it's wise to call out to him when we're doing something that's completely unholy?" She teased, lightly sucking on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

Hongjoong tensed up when he felt her hand brush along his pants. Instinctively, he stopped her hand, effectively making her pull away from his neck to make sure she didn't cause him any harm or unpleasant feeling.

"Remember I'm- I'm a virgin..." He said that last part very quietly, cheeks turning a faint red tone.

Smiling kindly at him, she pressed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I'm well aware my love and I promised I wouldn't force you to do anything you're not ready for. So trust me, I will wait until you're ready." She assured him.

Hongjoong felt blessed to have her, she was so caring and understanding with him, not to mention patient and reasonable. He felt safe when he was with her and he felt truly free to be who he really was and not someone society expected him to be.

"That being said..... I can't let my lord leave with a problem in his trousers. So just relax and trust me for a moment ok?"

Hongjoong watched carefully as she sank down on her knees, her eyes looking up at him with such lust and fiery passion. Although stiffening when she palmed at his tent, he relaxed and let himself enjoy the feeling. He didn't blink at all when he saw her take out his member from its confinement, her eyes graced at seeing his well endowed length for the very first time. Hongjoong couldn't do anything but gasp and moan when her wet and hot mouth was suddenly taking him in, his head hitting the very end of her mouth. He swallowed hard and threw his head against the tree behind him, getting addicted to this new and unholy sensation that was building up inside him. A seemingly wrong yet wondrous stirring began to form on the pit of his stomach, piling up and threatening to break loose very soon. Clasping the back of her head to steady his trembling legs, he shook harshly as he felt his release spurt out of him and run down her throat. Y/N hummed in approval and satisfaction as she tasted and gulped down the creamy and delectable flavor of her lover, making sure not to let one drip go to waste.

When she pulled back and dressed him back up, Hongjoong was still in shock, eyes wide as he tried to comprehend what had just taken place. Flashing him a mischievous smirk, Y/N kissed him one last time, slipping her tongue inside his mouth to let him get a taste of himself.

"It's getting late my lord. You best be getting back before the evil spirits come out and claim your soul."

They both bursted into laughter at her teasing words, embracing each other one last time as the sun set behind them.

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Returning back from a week's journey from the capital, Hongjoong got off his horse and handed the reins over to one of the lackeys that tended and watched over the horses while the masters tended to serious matters inside the castle. The guards paid their respects, welcoming Hongjoong back and opening the doors up for him. Stepping into the foyer, he acknowledged all the other men that wandered through the halls, bidding them greetings and overall studying the atmosphere. Everyone seemed to be in confusion and full of anxiety, which made him wonder what on earth had happen while he was away.

"Hongjoong!"

He turned to find none other than Chan striding over to him, his face illuminated with a brilliant and triumphant smile. Although Hongjoong extended his hand so it could be shaken, Chan went the extra mile and actually draped one of his abnormally long arms across his comrade.

"I think we finally did it mate."

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at him, letting Chan guide him down one of the staircases that led to the torture chambers and cells they used for criminals.

"Did what?"

Chan seemed eager to share his findings.

"We might actually be on the brink of solving this long time problem that has been plaguing us with sorrow and grief."

"You mean to tell me the doctor's have finally found a cure for this disease?" Perhaps he was hoping for too much, after all, this was Chan he was speaking to.

"No! Even better mate! We captured someone-"

Hongjoong immediately tuned him out, it was too early for him to start hearing another sermon on why pagans and witches were evil and deserved to die. Besides, Chan always swore anyone he captured was the one who caused all the distressing situations they had thus encountered, but of course, there were still children dying. So Hongjoong refused to hear him gloat about finding the 'leader' of the cult. It seemed as though Chan could read Hongjoong's expression.

"I know you think I'm crazy Joong, but trust me. This time....it's for real."

Ushering the guards to let them pass through the iron barred doors, Chan and Hongjoong stepped inside the dimly lit dungeon, the crackling noise of the fire torches hung across the stone walls and the faint sound of water dripping being their only companions.

"She herself didn't even deny the fact that she's a witch. She proudly identified herself as one."

"But has she admitted to causing this plague throughout the land?" Hongjoong interrogates him.

"She adamantly denies that, but it doesn't matter. She's a professed witch and thus must receive a proper execution just like the rest of her kind. It's actually scheduled for tomorrow."

"If that's the case and her fate is sealed, why are you bringing me down here? I'll witness her death in the morning anyhow." Hongjoong had a mind to turn around and go back home, irked at the fact he had been summoned for this foolishness without even getting a chance to rest at his home.

"Well no need to get upset mate. I just thought you'd want to see her that's all. I'll tell you this, she's one of the prettiest pagans I've ever met. Her darling face could be mistaken for an angel's actually."

Crossing a corner and finally standing in front of the cell that held their captive, Hongjoong froze when the prisoner lifted her face and he saw who it was.

"No....it can't be.." His worst fear had come true as it was none other than Y/N who was being kept locked away in the prison.

"Told you she was very pretty? Took your breath away did she?" Chan let out a hearty laugh, but Hongjoong wasn't amused in the slightest bit. He peered with sorrowful and apologetic eyes at his secret lover, who throughout all this remained calm and collected, not letting a single facial muscle give away anything.

"Such a pity to know she'll die though."

Hongjoong clenched his hand into a fist, determined to punch Chan but when he met Y/N's eyes, she silently warned him not to think about doing something so foolish.

"Well now that you saw her, we best be going back now."

"No...... let me talk to her for a moment." Hongjoong stated.

Although confused, Chan didn't think too much about it.

"Suit yourself, but be careful. Don't want her putting a curse on you or something."

Waiting until the clanking of the doors signaled that they were bolted and making sure no one was within earshot of them, Hongjoong pressed himself against the bars that held him back from embracing his lovely maiden.

"Are you all right?"

Y/N looked around at her surroundings, humming softly before standing up from the wooden chair.

"Not exactly the most comfortable of places, but I've slept in much worse conditions than this. At least they're decent enough to bring me a meal every few hours." Her light chuckle and unworried demeanor was startling Hongjoong.

"Y/N, I don't know how but I'll get you out of here. Just let me run back to my place and-"

"Hongjoong." She interrupted him and stepped right in front of him, her fingers touching his hand as much as she could despite having an obstacle between them.

"You won't be successful. We'll be captured in no time and not only will I still be burned, you will suffer an even worst fate than mine. I can't...I absolutely forbid you to do anything about my situation."

Hongjoong began breathing heavily, cursing the heavens for being powerless in tearing the iron bars down and taking her away from him.

"I can't just let you die. I can't..... I love you." He sobbed, nails desperately clawing at the metallic wall as if he could tear through them.

"And I love you my lord. I always will...... but I need you to trust me now more than ever. You do trust me right?"

"With my entire soul, heart, mind and existence." He replied with no hesitation.

She smiled fondly at his answer.

"Then I need you to do one final thing for me."

Sliding up the sleeve of her dress, she pulled off a flower from the makeshift bracelet she often had on her.

"See this flower? This is called a valerian officinalis. I'm sure you've seen many of them grow near my cottage."

Recognizing the small yet sweet smelling flower, Hongjoong immediately nodded.

"I'm going to need you to go back to my place and gather about 6 of them. Boil them in a pot of water and drink its contents."

Hongjoong listened to each of her instructions, engraving them on his mind.

"And then?"

With lips curled into a wicked smile, Y/N responded:

"And then just wait for me to return to you."

Hongjoong was about to say something, ask about how it would be possible, but Y/N hushed him.

"I told you to trust me my lord, so please trust me when I say that we will see each other again. I will make sure of it. You have nothing to fear."

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The young woman took careful and meticulous steps across the dirt road she was being left upon. Her bare feet were covered in dirt and grime, matching her hands which were outstretched in front of her, wrists bound with iron cuffs that had various chains attached to it, each being pulled by 4 different men who wore black robes with hoods covering their heads. She held her head up high, refusing to lose her dignity as she trailed through the marshland around her. Her eyes were fixed on the pole that stood near the end of the road, a crucifix nailed at the very top while a pile of hay and and wood was gathered at the base of it. Her guides themselves were bearing torches that were already blazing in flames, soon to be consuming her body.

Finally coming in front of the stake, she didn't hesitate to step up and press her back against the wooden pole, further confusing the men in charge of escorting her there. Still they just opted for finishing their task as they began to tie her body to the stake with ropes, the harsh material scratching against the exposed parts of her skin. She nearly rolled her eyes as one of them began reciting some holy repertoire that was probably said at every execution. One of the men stepped up in front of her, placing his torch near the base.

"Any last words?" He asked as they always did before lighting the victims on fire.

Closing her eyes, Y/N took a deep breath, gathering all her strength before uttering out her next words:

"Ex inferno, et incendent civitatem hanc oriri me cinere."

The 4 men looked at each other in confusion, wondering what she said, but ultimately failed to comprehend her words. Following as the man in charge was doing, they all lowered their torches onto the hay and wood, immediately setting it ablaze. Stepping back from the flames, they watched as the smoke began to cover the young woman's body, the last thing they saw through all the dense fumes was the young witch's haunting face, an evil grin staring back at them, sending shivers down their bodies as they wondered if they were hallucinating or did they in fact watched her eyes shift to a dark crimson color. Before they could even ask each other if they saw the same thing, they all began screaming in agony as their bodies suddenly began burning with great intensity, raging fires consuming their flesh and bones in mere minutes until nothing but a pile of ashes were scattered about.

At a distance, back in the quiet and unsuspecting town, the villagers went about their business, all of them happy at the news that the so called leader of the cult that had plagued and tortured them for so long was finally being put to death. They began to think that finally they would no longer live under the fear of having heathens roam around disrupting their lives. All of them had jolly and gleeful smiles on their faces, the town booming with laughter and celebration.....

Their laughter was soon replaced by their frantic and terrified shouting, smiles transforming into crying and fear stricken expressions as fire began to sprout out from the ground in all directions, starting with the holy church that was the center of their town. One by one, all of the houses, from the most humble to the most luxurious and extravagant ones of them burst into flames. The raging fire showed no mercy as it consumed man, woman, children and livestock with no discrimination. All of them soon fell victim to the excruciating fiery death that they had inflicted against countless innocent victims that deserved no such fate.....

Now they had to paid for their sins, pay them in full until their ashes laid scattered all around, leaving absolutely no soul spared.

All of them burned to the ground.

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Violently sitting up, Hongjoong gasped sharply as he woke up from a very deep and dark sleep. Looking around, he realized he was still inside Y/N's quaint and exotic cottage. Seeing a sliver of light pour in, he realized he must have been knocked out for hours.

"Y/N!"

Remembering that she was to be executed that morning, he dashed out of her home, running as fast as he could through the forest in the direction of the village. He hoped he wasn't too late. He knew she told him to trust her, but he was only human and he was desperate to go investigate what had happened. Through clenched teeth, he pushed past his tired state and made it past the last monumental trees that stood near the end of the forest. He halted when he caught a glimpse of the town from where he stood:

The air was all gray, a dense cloud of smoke covered almost the entirety of the town. Through the blackened ruins he could still spot a few orange and red flames that refused to die out until it had completed its mission of destroying every last stone and brick in the area. He was completely awestruck at the scene, unable to say anything as the sun started to set behind him.

Realizing how dangerous it was to stay there, he turned back and ran inside the forest once more. He ran around as if he were a madman, with no clear direction in mind. He just went wherever his legs seemed to carry him. He finally stopped right in front of the creek that ran through the forest. He leaned against one of the sycamores that grew throughout the woodland. His panted deeply, trying to catch his breath. He was on the verge of combusting into tears when he suddenly distinguished a familiar tune echoing through the forest. He knew that eerie and haunting melody anywhere, and even blind he'd be able to follow that sweet voice right to its owner without a guide. Looking around, he searched in hopes of finding where the singer was hiding. Hongjoong began to wonder if perhaps his mind was just being delusional, but the rustling of leaves behind him let him know it wasn't the case.

"You're an awfully difficult person to find my lord."

He let out a sigh of relief at finally hearing Y/N's voice again. Turning around, he was about to hold her in his arms but he stopped himself when he saw the state she was in: there his lover stood, hair completely down while her body was completely bare to him. He swallowed hard as he found it difficult to look away as his eyes took in her perfectly sculpted breasts, slowly trailing down her body and fixing their gaze in between her legs, admiring her lady mound. His mouth was agape, his whole body stunned as he saw Y/N in her most vulnerable state for the first time. He could faintly distinguish a few gnashes on her wrists and ankles, no doubt brought upon due to the scraping of bounds that was she was subjected to. And although she cleaned most of it off, there was still some leftover soot staining parts of her body, mostly on her shoulders, knees and elbows. And yet she still looked as ethereal as ever, perhaps even more so now.

She couldn't hide her smirk as she was not oblivious about him gawking at her figure. She simply and calmly walked closer to him, taking in each reaction he made. She could feel him get aroused the closer their distance got.

"I hope the sight doesn't fall short from what you had imagined." She teased him, her hands wrapping around his neck.

"Oh trust me..... you're even more beautiful than I imagined."

Hongjoong lifted up one hand so it could caress her arm, though his movements were rather awkward and hesitant. She knew he kept questioning whether it was all right for him to touch you. Wanting to assure him it was not a crime, she pecked his lips before taking one of his hands and placing it on her chest right where her heart was.

"Do not be afraid my lord. I'm all yours and you're free to touch me as you please." She was actually longing for him to touch her, feel his hands on her most intimate parts.

Looking back into her eyes, Hongjoong pulled her against him, one arm around her waist while the other kept her chin tilted up so he may devour her mouth, using all the tongue movements he remembered her doing on him. His hand that was innocently holding her waist moved to a less chaste position as it cupped one of her tender breasts. He squeezed and pressed against her soft flesh, playing around and familiarizing himself with the outline of her erect nipples. His other hand followed suit and dropped to apply the same treatment on her other breasts, not wanting it to feel neglected from his gentle groping. Y/N gasped softly when Hongjoong pulled his mouth away from hers so he could kiss along her jaw and the top of her neck, catching her breath.

Meanwhile Hongjoong continued his exploration of her body. Slowly he inched a hand in between her legs, hesitating when it was inches away from her most intimate place, but eventually curiosity got the better of him and his fingers delved deep into her slit. He found it wet and warm, and it was fascinating to him. Dragging his fingers along her folds, he found that he could part them and touch an even softer and silky lining. Whenever he brushed or touched a certain tiny nub, he could feel her body becoming more responsive. Indeed, as he began to rub and press against that tiny organ, her lewd sounds were becoming more frequent and higher in pitch. The more he touched and probed around the forbidden parts of her body, the more his desire grew to become one with her, lust starting to take over his senses, slowly crumbling the last shred of self control he had.

"Take me." He finally said.

Being so dazed from having him touch her, Y/N fluttered her eyes open in confusion.

"I'm ready my love. Just take all of me and make me yours. I want you to defile me." His eyes burned with determination, not one shred of doubt in them.

Grinning at him, Y/N reached over to unclasp the cape that he was wearing and laid it flat on the earth beneath them. Starting with his silk shirt, she began to strip him out of his noble attire, refusing to let him help her out. She wanted to undress him as she wanted. More than satisfied with his bare body in front of her, Y/N guided him to lay down on the makeshift blanket, making sure to be as gentle and caring as possible. Hongjoong gasped when she climbed on top of him, her wet heat ever so slightly grazing upon his erect member. Taking one hand into her own, she made sure he was looking at her.

"I love you." She confessed.

"And I you." He replied in complete earnest.

Hongjoong groaned and threw his head back as his breathtaking enchantress sunk herself down onto him, effectively connecting their bodies together. It was the most intoxicating and thrilling experience he had ever felt. He didn't care if it was a mortal sin that would condemn him to an eternity in hell. He happily and gratefully allowed himself to be plunged deeper and deeper into damnation. He closed his eyes as on overwhelming wave of pleasure began to take over his body, numbing all other senses, the only thing he felt was how wonderful and bewildering Y/N's body felt on him. She too was enjoying herself, the look of amazement and passion on Hongjoong's face making her feel a sense of pride as she slowly stripped his last shred of purity from him. She loved him so dearly, she had never wanted someone as much as she wanted him. And now....she finally had him. He was all hers and only hers. He willingly and wholeheartedly gave all of himself to her with no regrets.

Feeling a fiery sensation form on the pit of his stomach, Hongjoong gasped violently as his body began convulsing and out from his member a load of semen poured out until it thoroughly coated his lover's velvet walls which had also began to tighten and constrict around him as a pool of heat rushed down Y/N's body when she felt the handsome man underneath her fill her up to the brim. Unable to resist any longer, she arched down and latched her mouth on his neck, suckling and nibbling against his petal like skin before sinking her teeth down, penetrating deep in his flesh. Hongjoong cried out softly at the stinging pain that felt so delicious at the same time.

"There now my sweet and darling lord..." Y/N lightly purred against his neck, her hot breath sending more shudders down his body.

Hongjoong felt like he was in a daze and he didn't want to come out of it. He did not feel frightened even as his gorgeous enchantress sat up once again and stared down at him intensely, her previously [insert color] eyes now a bright crimson color that burned like the depths of hell.

"You belong to me."

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smoothie-sailing · 3 years

Text

Armin’s Dream will save the World

I suppose this all begins with one afternoon with a dream shared between friends. Armin discovers a book and begins to dream about seeing the outside world. He tells his friend Eren about it and at first Eren is dismissive but as Armin talks he can see something in his eyes. Something he didn’t know could exist was suddenly real, something he could see for himself. And just like that Eren and Armin shared a dream of seeing the outside world.

As time goes on Eren will sometimes feel lost in what’s happening, unable to see beyond the present and the past. Armin will always remember his dream, Eren will hear those words from him and he remembers the dream too. He’ll remember that there is a future, that there’s hope because of the world they can explore together.

Time and time again, Eren and Armin are forced to see the cruelty of this world but Armin would always remember his dream will remind Eren of that dream. He might have sounded a little naïve but it gave Eren something nothing else did. Real hope for the future, that things could change.

When Armin was on the brink of death, Eren did everything in his power to save him. He had to remember the dream and tell it to others to make them understand. Someone with a dream like that has to live because the dream is something precious. It gave Eren hope when nothing else would, it gives everyone who hears it hope when there seemingly is none. It allows people to see the true beauty in this world.

Until the inconceivable happens. When Eren taps into the memories of past shifters he inherits an entirely new perspective. He is informed of the true cruelty and suffering that lies beyond the wall, the suffering of his own father and other’s like him simply for being born into this world.

When Armin talks about his dream, Eren can’t see the beauty of it past the cruelty suffered by those before him. Because the past is so visceral, and the present is so fleeting, he can’t be brought back by Armin’s dream of the future. To Eren, it does not exist unless they can remove that horror from the world in a decisive way. The people outside of the wall are inseparable from cruelty, and once they are gone, then we can be free.

This is where Ymir comes in. At the very beginning of chapter 130, there is a flashback to Ymir’s perspective revealing that she was indeed the one who freed the pigs. Up to this point it was assumed that she was merely a victim of circumstance, but this moment confirms that she is indeed the one who started this story with a simple act. On first glance, you could look at this and say she values freedom just like Eren does. But what she is doing is saving the pigs from being slaughtered for food. What this conveys is that she sees inherent value in life itself believes that life should have the freedom to exist.

This small act led to a series of events in which Ymir learns the true cruelty of this world. A life of slavery lasting long after her death. For 2000 years she is left alone trapped with this pain.

This is the essence of her connection to Eren. How he is able to empathise with her, reach her as no one else has. Because he knows her pain. Because he is also a child force to learn so early that the world is a cruel place. Forced to learn this again and again and again until something broke. The world is just.. cruel. He needs to have the power and the strength to do something about it. He believes he knows how to save her from this suffering and put and end to this cruel world. But a drowning person cannot save a drowning person.

The interesting thing about emotional connections is that they are participatory. Both ways. Eren was able to see Ymir’s memories and so Ymir is now looking at his, notable a memory of Eren and Armin when they first share their dream of seeing the outside world.

Ymir is now fully awake. She wants to understand him, his intentions and the realisations of those intentions. She explores his memories while observing the rumbling unfold in the form of birds.

She has seen Eren confide in Ramzi why he is doing this. An innocent person dying in the name of freedom. Ymir gave Eren this power and now millions of people like Ramzi are being slaughtered like pigs. When Eren reached out to her, she was in so much pain that she needed a release but now that she has seen what Eren is doing, does Ymir really want to commit to this?

She also notices when Eren brings Armin to paths. Eren wants to show Armin that the dream is finally real but it is apparent that Eren does not know what that dream is anymore. Seeing that dream of freedom become a reality was Eren’s intention but that is not what has happened. At least not from Armin’s perspective. If this is not the dream, then what is?

Eren is lost because he has lost that dream, lost his humanity. He has freed Ymir but he is now isolated and alone in the dark. He has not overcome enemies of freedom he has succumb to the cruelty of this world. Since he was brought to paths, Ymir has been watching Armin. She is paying attention to him and this dream, she is deciding where she lands between the two of their perspectives.

Armin may be trying to talk to the wrong person. Eren refuses to listen to Armin because he now sees him as too naïve but Ymir’s will is undecided at this moment. Does she want her will to be realised as an expression of the cruelty of this world or of its beauty?

The power of Armin’s dream is that it restores hope, it renews one’s humanity. Its infectious. It gave Levi hope and it gave Annie hope. You can’t hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes and not think of the beauty in this world. If Armin can reach Ymir with his dream then perhaps he can sway Ymir to see beyond the cruelty of this world.

#Armin #Eren #Ymir Fritz #Ymir #aot meta #snk meta #snk theory #aot theory #snk 135 #aot 135

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pieces-by-me · 3 years

Text

Dying to Breath

This is my part to @geekandbooknerd 2k writing challenge! Again CONGRATULATIONS!! This I such huge thing and I’m so happy for you, because it is truly well deserved and I can’t wait to see where you'll go from here 🌼

Words: 2467

Warnings: Feelings of drowning? Giving up. Hopelessness, but also fluff I swear.

Summary: Ivar knew he would meet his end. Drowning while bound to a mast. But the sea had other plans for him.

Prompt:

“I’m oxygen and he’s dying to breath” (I used slightly a slightly different version of this but it’s still in here.)

Waves crashing, rain beating on skin, wind ripping one apart.

For an instant Ivar wished he listened to his mothers words. Because at this moment he sees his own death playing out right before him. Tied up to the mast of the boat he can look past his father to the gigantic waves that build up before them. Bigger and bigger they take up the sky. And he screams.

Pain, fear, anger, hopelessness and misery all in one deafening scream that threatens to rip his throat apart. He can do nothing but watch. Nothing but wait for his death. Nothing but let the gods see him drown and laugh at him, because why should he get to go to Valhalla with a miserable death like this.

Ragnar turns around and sees the desperation in his sons eyes. He will be responsible for his death. The gods are finally done with him and they are going to take his son with him. The one he needs the most, the one that was the most important for his mission. His youngest son that didn't see the world yet.

Walking towards him Ragnar put his hand over Ivar's mouth, silencing the scream.

“Don't be afraid.” He doesn't say the words but Ivar can read them in his fathers eyes.

And so he doesn't scream. He just looks at the wave that will crash all of them and ignores the tear that slowly falls down his face. The rain from the storm masks it perfectly so he can pretend to be brave. If for one moment in his life he needs to be it, this is it. Maybe the gods will open their golden hall for him then.

So he does nothing and the wave crashed over them. Turning the boat with a power that challenges every force in Midgard. People fall overboard. Screaming for their life. They know it will do them nothing to help. Planks breaking apart as if the mighty ship was just a stick. And finally the mast breaks, the mast Ivar is so helplessly tied to. Curse Ragnar for this. This was not the way it was supposed to be. But then his mother warned him, so maybe it was.

Water pressed inside his ears. Making him hear a ringing that wasn't there. The salt burnt his eyes but he tried his best to keep them open. His hand desperately trying to undo his fathers knots but it was no use. They were to tight.

Through the haze of the water Ivar could see his father swim down and towards him. He was sinking. The measly metal constructions on his legs and the mast soaking up with water brought him closer and closer to the bottom of the ocean.

His ears getting worse by the second and he knew that Ragnar would feel the same, but still he did not give up on Ivar's bondage. But the air would run out sooner or later and the knot would not budge.

Ivar tried to show his father to save himself, but how can you do that when you can't speak or move. He had to see his father struggle all the while neither had much air in their lungs left. His father never looked so miserable and that brought Ivar a strange sense of pride. He did not do a lot in his life. How could he. But at least he brought Ragnar Lothbrok, the greatest of all the Vikings, misery beyond belief. At least that was something Ivar the Boneless could live with.

Ragnar, being older, ran out of air before his son. And even though he truly didn't want to leave him in this wet grave he had to get air. His body forced him to push away and up. With his movements he desperately tried to carry Ivar and the mast with him, yet it was no use. It was all to heavy for his broken body. And after a heavy tug Ivar slipped out of his fingers and deeper into the water.

Ivar didn't quite see when it happened but suddenly his father was gone and he knew we would be soon too. If his body was not surrounded by water he would have screamed and cursed every living thing in this world. But his air run out slowly and even if his body did not want to give up he saw the edges of his eyes turn dark. His legs, funnily enough, where the things that brought him the least amount of pain in this moment. No it was his chest.

A pressure so big he felt his body would break into two and crumble in on itself all the same time was all he could feel. It was maddening. Feeling like a caged animal, tapped inside the tiniest cage, even though nothing but the wide ocean held him back. He felt himself slipping. Giving up. And the worst part, he lost all sense of caring for it.

Even his eyes played tricks on him. How else should he explain to himself that water moving in irregular shapes right before him. It was as if smaller waves were twirling before him. Almost dancing. As if something was there. Someone. Ivar heard about Selkies. Merfolk that looked like seals but could shed their fur and become human if they wanted. But there was no seal in front of him. No it was just water dancing.

Slowly the moving water took shape of a arm. And then a hand. Stomach, shoulder, neck and head. Legs that went longer then human, until it reached feet and soon a person was floating before him. Hair that would glide through the currents as if it was guided by wind. A person made out of water. A women clearly there yet translucent to the eye. Eyes so cold they looked like molten silver. Hel must be close to taking him if his eyes played such tricks with him.

But then he not only saw but also heard something. A voice. Clear as the echos on the mountains. It sounded like nothing he heard before. A language that was not meant to be heard by humans. It sounded like birds flying though the air singing their songs. Nothing not even his air deprived brain could come up with something like that. And with the singing came another figure right before his eyes. This time a man.

Blackness made itself known around Ivar's eyes more and more and he knew he would be out of air soon. The water people circled around him. Looking at him as if they never have seen something like him. The women came closer while the men vanished into nothing but droplets and foam. Stretching her hands out towards his face. And even though he knew that he could not go anywhere he flinched away from this mysterious touch.

That did not discourage her though, as she just did it again. This time with success. She was warmer then the water around him and it brought Ivar a sense of peace. He could die here and the warm hands of this entity would sooth him on the way there. Maybe she was a helper of Hel, here to take him. But all of that vanished as he felt her lips on his and with that air entering his lungs again. Gasping into her and deepening as far as his bound body could go like his life depended on it, because it did, he stretched closer to her.

He had air again. His chest did not threaten to burst. His ears did not ring anymore. He felt weightless. Almost free. If he were on land there would be tears running down his face again. This time not out of agony but euphoria.

She still held his face in between her hands. Never letting go as her lips left his. He called for her to come back but nothing but bubbles left his mouth. So instantly he closed them again. All this must have amused her, for she laughed. A sound so magnificent he was transfixed. She looked at him as if she found an animal in the wild and was trying to decide if she should keep it. She must have found an answer because after seconds her hands left his face and she vanished just like the man.

Panic made itself known inside Ivar. But as soon as she vanished she appeared behind him again. He could feel her hands on his arms. Or more the warmth that spread there. He could not see what she did but after a while his arms were free. She freed him.

Ivar felt her arms encircle his torso and, with a strength he did not see coming, she made her way to the surface. All the while still holding him. His hands found her arm and it was strange. He could see only water that was faintly outlined by foam and light. But he felt it resisting at his touch. He could see through but not feel though her body. It was a miracle, he was sure of it.

The first breath of real air he felt as they broke through the surface was the best feeling he ever felt. Maybe close behind to the kiss he got from the being he was still in the arms of. Nevertheless it was like getting his life back with every breath he took. Clutching on the being he realized that she was now in front of him again. Looking at him as if he was the weirdest thing in the world. A smile adorned her face and it was so beautiful he knew the gods made it. She let him hug her for awhile all the while she looked at him and held him back. He felt save for the first time on the ocean.

She swam with ease. The waves that still rolled over the ocean, even if they were not so big now, did not matter to her. She found a piece of Ragnar's boat and brought Ivar to it.

'Ragnar. What happened to father.'

“My father! Where is he!” His voice was scratching and he needed three tries to get all the words out. But it didn't matter. He needed his father.

The woman looked at him and then behind him. Pointed with a tender movement behind him and Ivar turned around.

Land. He saw land. Nothing made him feel more contend. Maybe the sight of his father alive and well could make it even better. And it became better. With every stoke she took he got closer to land and closer to tiny specs of rubble. Like ants laying in the sand he could see pieces of their boat and people lying about. Ivar turned his face back to the women.

He could look at this land all he wanted but he knew she would leave soon. She was beauty personified. Flawless and pure and so enigmatic in what she even was that Ivar did truly not know. Never had he heard or seen of a being like her and the man.

The sun rose slowly over the horizon and the beams reflected inside of her as if she was made out of pure light, instead of water. And they were closer to the shore. SO close that Ivar could see his father lying in the sand. Eyes turned to the lightening sky.

He could feel that she slowed down and was about to push away from the makeshift boat when he took her hand in his. Startling her for a second before their eyes met again. A smile replaces her panicked look and she waited for him to make the next move.

But what was his next move? He just didn't want her to go yet. With a voice so small as if it came form a small boy he finally found words to say. But even though the words sounded small they held unimaginable amounts of gratitude in them

“You saved me.”

She did not answer. Ivar didn't even know if she understood a word he said. Maybe she only spoke in her voice that sounded of strange singing birds. But still he had to try.

“Why?”

A long pause followed. Still she did not utter a single word. But she did also not look away and in her eyes Ivar could see understanding. After anther pause that felt to him endless she spoke to him.

“I am air and you were dying to breath. You have something in your eyes that I did not want to see go out.”

Her hand found his left cheek again and with a push she was closer to his eyes, placing her lips on his right cheek. Letting a simple, small kiss linger on his skin and went back to the water so that only her head was out of the water.

“Farewell”

And with that she pushed him closer to the shore and dove back into the deep see. Gone just as simple as she came. His hand lingered on his right cheek, the warmth of her lips were still tingling on his skin. He was so fixated on the ocean waves that he didn't realize that the plank was now stranding the beach. The only thing that brought him out of his trance was the scratching voice of his father.

“IVAR” Distress but also the utter most relief was heard in Ragnar's voice.

“Oh my son.” He threw his arms around the boy and kissed his hair. Never was he so happy to have someone else back in his arms. “I thought you were lost in the sea. I dove back under but I could not find you and the stream would not let me away, as if I was carried by something that wasn't there to land.”

'The man. The one that vanished.' Ivar thought,

“How did you get free? How did you survive.?”

Ragnar's eyes searched Ivar's with so much emotion, tears sprung in them. A pure display of joy and relieve.

Ivar's gaze left the one of his father's and he looked back out to the sea. The sun now being higher then before and the glistening waves seemed to be waving at him goodby.

“The sea saved me.”

It was all he could say. Because she did.

Ragnar did not know what he should do with that but he didn't care. He had his son back and he didn't let him go for a while. Still holding him in his arms kissing his hair and thanking the gods that they brought him back his youngest.

He could still fulfill his plan.

____________________

Let me know what you guys thought by leaving me a comment! And I hope you have a lovely night✨

Tag: @youbloodymadgenius @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

#hayleys2k #history vikings #vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar imagine #ivar fanfic

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