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tomriddleslove · 5 months

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I’m here.

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where Mattheo is spiralling and he needs a way out. He doesn’t expect to find it right in front of him. Alternatively: He doesn’t realise he is loved, by you.

A/N: Riddles 🤝 Internal Monologues. I’ve postponed a smut to write this because my heart belongs to angst. REQUESTS ARE OPEN 😻

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Child abuse, Substance Abuse, Unhealthy Family environments, Depression. This is quite a heavy read.

Mattheo liked to think of himself as an independent person. It wasn't of his own volition, of course. He didn't exactly have the most supportive home environment. From the day he turned up to Hogwarts after the summer holidays, with scuff marks on his shoes, ragged clothing, hunger gnawing at his insides like a ravenous beast and a bruise spattering the left side of his face, he learnt that the world would not show mercy on him. No, Mattheo had to do it on his own.

He did indeed feel grateful for his friends, who didn't need to utter a word in their support. It wasn't hums of sympathy or pitying looks. It was them brushing off his back when he fell, it was saving the work for him when he had rough evenings, it was pouring him a coffee when he sat down for breakfast without saying a word. Their friendship was not reflected in their words, no, for words were futile. It was in their actions. And Mattheo would be eternally grateful for them.

But even then, it was he who was surrounded by so many, who felt the most alone.

He couldn't ever speak of his issues, he didn't think he ever could. His friends loved him, but not in the way unconditional love came. It need not be romantic, no, Mattheo was not a fool. He didn't care for that when he could barely get himself together. But his deepest secret was not his family's past, nor was it the hidden bruises under his uniform.

Rather, it was that Mattheo simply, had the most terrible, incredibly human need, for love.

For the sort of love that would let you look at the most broken down, raw parts of a person, and still speak of them with reverence.

It tears at your skin. It digs its claws into your feeble skin, and it pulls, It tugs, and it screams. It bares its teeth, it etches its name into your soul. It feeds on you, it consumes you, it hurts you. It bleeds in front of you.

It bleeds, yet it does not cower under the weight of its own vulnerability, because it knows you love it. You lean down, and you cradle it as though it was the most delicate thing on earth. It shrieks in your arms, it continues clawing at you.

You hold it. You are not afraid.

It bleeds, and it makes you bleed with it.

It’s ok.

You'll clean it. You are not afraid.

It was, in its purest form, an ugly thing. Ugly, yet so undeniably beautiful. His heart could only ache, and clench at the thought of such an unconditional love. The idea that someone could see him for him, see Mattheo for Mattheo and not for his father, or for his friends, or for his loud, raucous persona that he put on, or his unhealthy habits.

But how could someone see Mattheo for himself, when he himself didn't know who he was?

He wondered what the rest of his life held for him, often. Sprawled out on his bed, a near-empty bottle of Odgens’ fire whiskey loosely clutched in his hands. His hands are cold; they never warmed.

He always had this feeling in his throat. A sort of suffocating weight, a pain that restricted him. It made it hard to swallow, and even harder to speak.

People would think he'd be out partying. Maybe getting with a girl. With his friends.

It's not that he didn't do that. He did. But it got to a point where the face of one girl blurred into another, he couldn't tell his mornings from evenings. Floating on a high that would sink into an undistinguishable low, one and the same.

He never slept. Whilst they didn't outwardly question it, his friends would jibe and jeer at him, assuming the bags under his eyes were due to his late-night rendezvous with another girl.

Would they look at him differently if they knew it came from nightmares?

He couldn't sleep, because every time he closes his eyes the depths of his mind torment him with images from his past.

His father’s hand comes down, cruel and unforgiving. The bruises mar his skin, but it became the norm. The purples and greens became akin to home more than anything else he had.

In his dreams, his legs do not reach as far as they do now. His calloused hands are smooth once more, and his eyes are wide and honest.

He is young once more, and it does not bring him ease.

He seeks out his mother, he yearns for comfort. She does not give it to him. He is met with the harsh sound of a slap resounding, and his cheek starts hurting. He's confused, and then-

Oh.

Right.

His eyes close, and they open again. He is now looking in the mirror, and he is back to the way he is now. He is standing there, and he cannot tell why he is. He looks the same, yet somehow unrecognisable. Mattheo knows himself well, but right now he feels as though there is a stranger in front of him. That can't be him, he thinks, but he has the same faded scar on his right eyebrow, and his jaw is clenched in the same way. His nose is slightly crooked from when he tried to mend his broken nose at the age of 8.

He meets his eyes in the mirror, and they stare back at him. There isn't that familiar gleam of exhaustion. There isn’t sadness, yet he isn't relieved to see it. He looks in the mirror, and he sees himself. He sees his father reflected in him.

He is watching, and a child approaches him. He is young, as Mattheo was. He barely manages to walk over without stumbling. He looks up at Mattheo - the one in the mirror. Mattheo looks down, but he does not see the kid next to him. He stares back at Mattheo in the mirror, and his reflection is looking down at the child. His stomach starts to hurt. His insides churn, and the reflection raises a hand. The child looks up at him, the same way Mattheo looked up at his mother. The hand comes down, and the harsh sound of a slap resounds throughout the room. The child cries. Mattheo's cheek hurts.

He wakes.

Gasping, sweat clinging to his forehead. His body is freezing, and his mind is reeling. His heart is pounding frantically, and he throws the blanket off him, rubbing a hand over his face as he groans.

He couldn't sleep, He was terrified of trying to do so. His eyes flicker over to the clock on his wall.

2:00 am.

Every time he shuts his eyes, he sees the child looking up at his reflection in the mirror. He sees his reflection raising its hand. In the silence, he hears the sound of the slap, he hears the cries of the child. It mingles with his own, he cannot not tell whose is whose.

He gets up, slipping his hoodie on. His movements are groggy because even if his mind couldn't sleep, his body still needed it.

Then again, one more night of resorting to drinking himself to sleep and he wouldn't be sure if he would wake again. His feet lead him to your room before his mind registers it. He doesn't know why he's standing outside your door, but you were his friend. Perhaps, a closer friend than the rest of them. He knew you'd be up, and he needed to not be alone right now.

Mattheo was a very independent person most of the time, but now was not one of those times.

That terrible, incredibly human need comes back again.

His hand rests on the doorknob, the cool metal still warmer than his own skin. He hesitates, but he pushes the door open.

Your door was always open for him.

As he expected, you were awake. Stretched out on your bed, propped up on a few cushions as you read a book. Your eyes flicker up as you look over at Mattheo, the confusion on your face very quickly fading as you see the state he's in.

You do not say anything, and he is grateful. You put your book to the side. You do not slide over to the side and offer Mattheo a spot next to you like you always do. You instead, continue looking over at him. Instead, you open your arms. You do not say anything, and you beckon him over.

He does not move immediately. He gazes at you for a second and once again, his feet move, and he gravitates towards you before his mind can even compute what he’s doing. The mattress squeaks slightly under your combined weight, as he comes over. He lowers down onto you, his head resting on your chest as he wraps his arms around your midsection. You cradle him as though he was the most delicate thing on earth. His cold skin meets yours, and its intransigence wavers.

He warms, and it is the most beautiful feeling.

He clings to you, as though trying to merge his existence with yours, afraid you'll slip away.

You hold him.

“I'm here,” You whisper.

It doesn't take long after that.

His head is hidden in your chest. Your fingers card through his brown curls.

You hold him.

He weeps.

You hold him.

You do not let go. He cries, and he cries till his throat is dry, and your shirt is soaked. He cries, and not once does your hold on him waver.

You are not disgusted by him. You do not look at him differently. It is amidst those tears that he comes to the realisation that he did not have to search very far. He is not just seeking comfort; he's holding onto the love and acceptance he's always craved. The raw, unfiltered emotion takes him by surprise, and he lets it wash over him. He did not cower under his own vulnerability any more, no, for his vulnerability is both liberating and overwhelming.

His sobs gradually subside, and your hold only loosens slightly when his body no longer shakes with the weight of his emotions. The feeling in his throat is gone.

He doesn't look up at you, but it's okay. You still look at him the same way. Your lips press a tender kiss against his messy hair lightly. His arms wrap around you tighter. You both remain silent. You don’t need to speak the words, because Mattheo knows.

Everything would be okay, if only for tonight.

#harry potter #slytherin #tom riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #draco malfoy #theodore nott #blaise zabini #harry potter fic #mattheo riddle angst

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literaila · 3 months

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slip-up

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi says something he's not supposed to

warnings: bit of sad megumi (same babe), gojo is a terrible comforter, reader doesn't get a lot of screen time but she's always there, a good lack of conflict resolution

a/n: the one-shot that started this series. i figured it was time to give it up

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year four.

megumi doesn't notice the slip-up right when he says it. he's not even really paying attention to the conversation.

instead, he's thinking about the homework assignment he was supposed to turn in today--the one that gojo refused (couldn't) help him with.

"my mom usually drops us off," he's telling his teacher, trying to be polite like you taught him and not start whining (like gojo taught him). "but she's out of town right now, so gojo dropped us off instead and he gets the times confused..."

in all honesty, megumi could blame this whole thing on gojo. because it was his fault.

usually, you woke him and tsumiki up, pulling on his hair when he whined into the pillows, packing their lunches while they both sat at the table, eating cereal or tamagoyaki. usually, you reminded megumi to tuck in his shirt and helped the two of them get their books together, taking an occasional moment to shout at megumi's budget dad to get up before he was late. usually, you walked them to the door, kissing them both goodbye and watching both of them until they closed the door.

later on, you'd be there again, welcoming them home with another smile, asking about their days. forcing them into a thorough recap.

but today megumi woke up with a sore neck and gojo smiling at him, asking if he was planning on being buried in his bed.

because even though megumi heard you tell gojo that he needed to help out, step up, the mornings while you were gone, all of you should've known better.

megumi hasn't even ever seen gojo out of bed before nine-thirty.

so here he was, with his shirt untucked, his homework missing, and a bag of lollipops that gojo packed for lunch.

here he was, three hours late for school, trying to explain to his teacher that it wasn't his fault.

and here he was, accidentally calling you mom.

but megumi doesn't even realize that until his teacher smiles a little bit, telling him that she understands, asking him when his mom gets back.

megumi freezes.

the word repeats in his mind, and he finally realizes his slip-up.

sure, he's heard tsumiki call you it before--because for all intents and purposes, that's what you were. after four years of your unconditional love, the two of them knew, truly, that they could depend on you.

but megumi has never had a mom, and he doesn't now.

so it's still gojo's fault when the first tear rolls down his cheek. which megumi promptly wipes away. he's not going to cry--he's not the sort of kid that cries. he prides himself on it, actually. not needing the same sort of attention that he's seen his classmates get, never feeling things that deeply.

but he's crying now, and his neck still hurts as he turns away from his teacher, going to sit down at his desk.

and megumi isn't the type of kid that cries, but when he puts his head down, his cheeks feel a little damp.

megumi's got a headache now--another reason why he doesn't cry--and he sort of wants to curl up in bed until tsumiki gets home, and then convince her to run away with him.

but he doesn't.

when gojo unlocks the door, megumi goes through it without stopping to look around. he drags his backpack to his room--gojo watching the whole time, of course--and closes the door before the man can say anything stupid.

he can't deal with him right now. or ever, actually.

megumi sets his backpack up against the wall with a brief thought about homework and the class he's going to miss because of this, but he doesn't care enough to dwell on it.

everything about him feels stiff, like glue got between the seems of his very core.

he's ten years old. he shouldn't have to worry about anything.

he takes off his blazer, sets it on his desk with sweaty palms, and feels quite naked--even with the layers of clothes and lack of eyes. and his head hurts. megumi wants to get up and restart his day just so he can tell some version of his former self not to be so stupid.

but he knows that's just the guilt talking, so he ignores that too.

and it's only ten minutes into his glooming that there's a knock on the door, and gojo doesn't knock, so megumi knows immediately that something's wrong.

he's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, but he leans up on his elbow when you peek your head into the room.

for a brief moment, megumi is so relieved to see you that he almost jumps up and clings to you--like some child would.

he wants to hold onto you and beg you not to leave again, because everything seems to go wrong when you’re not there. he wants to tell you that he’s scared, and that he’s not sure what to do.

but he refrains, and blinks idly, confused about why you're here, and why his heart hurts just from looking at you.

“hey, you okay?” you whisper, taking a step into the dark room. you don't look banged up, and megumi wonders what gojo said to get you to come home. he probably told you that megumi was dying, or something.

you sit on the edge of his bed, and your hand is on his forehead before megumi can blink. “you feel sick?”

megumi nods, but his eyes don’t meet yours. it's a small enough lie.

“i’m sorry. did satoru give you any medicine?”

“did you have to come home for me?”

you smile, slightly. “no, buddy, don’t worry. it was easier than they said, just a grade one. plus i kinda rushed it cause i missed you guys.” you push his hair out of his eyes, “now, medicine?”

“i don’t want any.”

“if you don’t feel good—“

“actually,” he interrupts. “can—i, um, i don’t really want to talk.”

you pause, eyes roaming over his face. “oh. okay. that’s fine.”

you remove your hands from him immediately, walls of metaphorical space flying up between the two of you. “i’ll leave you alone. just ask if you need anything, okay? i’m going to go unpack.”

he nods and you give him a little grin.

and right as you're at the door, he falters. he doesn’t really want you to go. he wants you to crawl into bed with him, treat him like he's actually sick, and let him lay with his head in your lap. he wants to ask you the same question that's been in his head since he said it, but he can't.

“y/n?” he whispers, instead, your name feeling wrong in his mouth.

“yeah?"

“will... will you get gojo?" he asks, even though it's not what he wants to say at all. "i want to talk to him.”

“gojo?” you frown, looking at him. “yeah. of course, yeah. i’ll go get him. one sec.”

and when you close the door, megumi feels like he’s said something wrong. slipped up again.

he sits there and waits, feeling incorrect in his body. he wants you to come back and tell him that it'll all be fine, but he knows that you won't. if there's one thing you're good at, it's respecting boundaries.

and megumi has a lot of them.

gojo doesn’t knock when he comes into the room, and megumi is so lost in thought that he jumps as soon as the door clicks open.

megumi’s neck flies as he looks at him, wide eyes. he's already sat up, preparing himself for an influx of anger.

“is this about your lunch?” gojo asks, immediately, words fast and smooth. “because that wasn’t my fault. i thought your school did that.”

“you bought us our lunchboxes,” megumi argues, “you made me get the weird one with the dragon.”

“do not insult dracomon like that.”

megumi rolls his eyes. “whatever.”

“so, you wanna talk to me, huh?" gojo sits on megumi’s desk chair, legs hanging off the sides. “i think this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.”

megumi rolls his eyes again.

gojo waves a hand. "alright. what is it?"

megumi pauses. he can't ask gojo. even if he had an answer, it would be the least trustworthy version of one.

he scratches his neck, not sure how to lie about this. knowing that he's not supposed to lie in the first place.

he's doing everything wrong today.

gojo shakes his head, white hair the victim of many fashion crimes. “spit it out, kid. i just did you a huge favor, and i don’t have time for the attitude.”

“you didn’t do anything,” megumi frowns, crossing his arms.

gojo snorts. “you think they just say ‘come get your child’ when you’re crying at your desk?” he asks, rhetorically, and megumi’s face goes still. “no, they disrupted my nap, saying that you needed to be picked up and handed me a card for a child psychologist.”

“they told you?”

he nods. “and i didn’t tell y/n,” he grins, self-satisfied. “so you’re welcome.”

“why not?”

“because she would’ve freaked out, and i don’t need that, and i’m pretty sure you don’t want that…”

megumi nods immediately.

“it can stay our secret if you tell me what’s going on. i’ll edit the report when y/n asks,” then he turns, looking at the door. “even though she’s already listening in.”

“really?” megumi bites the inside of his cheek, checking the crack under the door for feet.

satoru kicks him. “no. she’s in her room. now, talk. i don’t know how long she’ll take.”

megumi swallows. he doesn’t really want to ask—not his only real question—but he’s already gotten this far.

at least it doesn't matter what he says, because no one will believe anything gojo makes up anyway.

“megumi…” gojo prods.

“do you know where my mom is?”

there’s a pause. a very long pause where megumi feels like he’s being scrutinized.

he can tell that gojo is looking at him very closely, a microscope to megumi’s cell, even though he can’t see his eyes.

“i—“ gojo pulls a strand of hair by his ear. clearing his throat. “i, um, im not sure. why?”

“no reason.”

there’s a very weird wince on the man’s face. “do you want to… talk about them? your… parents?”

“no,” megumi says immediately.

gojo sighs. “look, i’ll tell you if you really want to know—“

“i don’t care. i just… i don’t care.”

“…okay.”

“okay.”

the two of them are both lying. they have the same neck-scratching, and looking away tells. if you were in the room, you would be monitoring both of them very harshly. probably scolding them for the look on both of their faces.

gojo’s expression is so much weirder than megumi’s ever seen it. “are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“i just wanted to know if you knew,” megumi says, crossing his arms, then doing it again. “i don’t care about them. they don’t care about me.”

“well, i don’t know that—“

“no. you and y/n took us in and they didn’t care. so why should i?”

“right.” gojo nods. “right we… took you in.”

megumi nods, as a finality, and then deflates a little bit.

he doesn’t care about his mom—whoever she is, wherever she might be. he doesn’t. he just… also doesn’t want to replace her.

it feels wrong to think about. she doesn’t care about his life, so why should he care about hers?

it's a stupid sort of guilt. if tsumiki said anything like it, megumi wouldn't talk to her for a week.

but it's the sort of guilt over you, and a woman he knows nothing about. someone he doesn't really want to know about.

maybe that makes it worse.

“did someone say something at school?”

megumi frowns. “no. why would they?”

gojo shrugs. “kids are jerks,” he answers, simply, and then mutters “i would know…” under his breath, making megumi want to punch him again.

“no one said anything.”

“then why were you crying this morning?”

“i wasn’t crying.”

“hey,” gojo frowns. “crying is fine. it’s good.”

“i know,” megumi crosses his arms.

“okay, then.”

megumi doesn’t even know why he wanted to talk to gojo in the first place.

“look,” gojo sighs, his fingers tapping along the body of the chair. he whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “y/n is so much better at this,” and then meets megumi’s eyes—metaphorically, of course. everyone knows that gojo doesn’t have any eyes. “if you want to talk about your parents, we can talk about them. tsumiki asks questions every once in a while. and…” he breaks away, shaking his head. “if there’s something i don’t know, then i'll—we’ll figure it out. i’ve got eyes everywhere.”

gojo is grinning at his little joke, but megumi’s frown deepens.

"i don't care about them," he says, again, as a reassurance to them both.

"they are your parents, you know?" he holds his hands up in defense, probably from the glare megumi is giving him. "i'm just saying. curiosity is normal."

"how would you know?"

gojo sighs, tilting his head back. he looks almost hurt. "i'm wise. i've got years of experience on you."

"no, you don't."

he shakes his head. "now i'm going to start crying."

megumi stares at him. if he could trade gojo for literally anyone else in the world, he would.

and yet, he doesn't want to talk to you about this. he doesn't want to talk at all. and he does.

at least he knows that gojo won’t take any of this too seriously. that he won’t get to the bottom of the problem, like neither of them wants.

"do you think..." megumi starts, whispering. "do you ever regret taking us in?"

gojo swallows. he looks almost hesitant to answer, but megumi knows that must be wrong. gojo has never hesitated a moment in his life.

"well, you guys are pretty mean to me. but no, we don't regret it. why would we?" he asks, teasing, like always. "children are for chores."

megumi shakes his head.

"you should--" gojo scrunches his nose. "i can get y/n. she's got better answers, anyway."

"no!" megumi holds his hand out when the man begins to move from the chair, heart racing. "i don't want to talk to her."

"did something happen with you guys? you think someone might mention it to me..."

"no, nothing happened. i just... want to talk to you."

gojo snorts, but he sits back down. "whatever you did, i'm sure it's not that bad. remember that time i set tsumiki's hair on fire when she was gone? that was bad."

"i didn’t do anything. i'm not like you," megumi scowls, looking away.

"would you like a reward?" gojo asks, dryly. "most people wouldn't openly admit that. i admire your confidence."

both of them are silent, megumi considering the consequences of just saying the words out loud, nonetheless to gojo--who definitely won't know what to do with them.

after a minute, gojo clears his throat. "okay, megumi. my turn. do you regret coming here with me? instead of going with your family? you'd be clan head someday, you know."

"that place with the freaky shed of weapons you showed me?"

"yup."

"no," megumi doesn't have to think about that. "tsumiki's with me here. and i--"

i like it here, he almost slips. i love you guys.

megumi sighs. he doesn't want to say that to gojo.

but the older man looks like he already knew what he meant, a dumb smile on his face. "good. okay. well, i don't know what's wrong with you," he gives megumi a pointed look, saying that he actually does. "but i'm sure it'll all work out. you've got me here, so there's nothing to worry about. and y/n would kill me if anything happened to you, so. don't worry about your parents, kid."

megumi blinks at him. because his problems can be summed up with a quick "yeah, that's cool."

he rolls his eyes.

gojo's hand nudges his knee. "you can still ask if you want. anytime. we love you, you know? y/n more than me, but still..."

megumi shakes his head. "well i love her more than you."

"good. tsumiki's my favorite anyway."

"good. she's the only one who can deal with you."

"good," gojo retorts, like a child.

he leans in, ruffling megumi's hair as he does it. "even if you are pretty annoying, i'll still do some research for you. see about your mom."

"you don't have to--"

"i can't pick you up every time you're crying in class," gojo shrugs, so simply. definitely a joke in the words, but no teasing. "and i won't tell y/n. but you should talk to her. she worries."

"i know."

gojo smiles. "okay. as long as you know."

the two of them sit there for a while more, gojo making an awful comment every couple of lapses in silence, megumi answering with an equally sarcastic retort, and the two of them not minding at all.

and megumi still can't get the question out--are you his mom?--but there's the undeinable feeling that no one else can answer it for him anyway.

and gojo seems to know that, so he doesn't say anything about it. just lingers there, like an illness, waiting until megumi is okay, or maybe waiting for him to ask something else.

even though megumi doesn’t want to give the man any credit, he knows that gojo understands a lot more than he lets on. and, just from the weird little prideful looks he gives him every time he says something, megumi knows that he probably gets what this is about.

but if gojo isn’t going to say anything, then neither is he.

still, it’s nice to have him here.

there’s no comforting glances, or squeezing of hands with gojo. no acute words and adept gestures.

megumi has never expected gojo to overcome his tendency towards immaturity, or to become something that he’s simply not.

but there is just this. just the man who’s been there for long enough for megumi to notice. to understand that he’s not going away so easily.

and it’s nice to have you both. (megumi won’t admit that the gratitude he has for his makeshift parents is much stronger, more vehement than any worry about biology, or being left behind).

eventually, megumi's eyes begin to droop, and even though his headache is less stress-induced, it's still there, a gentle pounding at his skull.

like a reminder that things are going to change, even if he doesn't want them to. that he's growing up, and he can't protect everyone from his emotions forever.

but megumi doesn't have enough energy to think about it. so he lays down against his pillows, eyelids fluttering open and closed.

and he can just see it when gojo sneaks out of the room, whistling softly as he leaves, purposefully leaving the door open.

megumi should've gone to live with that clan.

"hey," you stand from your chair, looking not at satoru, but behind him, like the essence of their conversation is going to follow him through the door. "what'd he want? is he okay?"

you dance on your feet awkwardly, looking like you were waiting that whole time (you were).

satoru smiles, leaning on the counter to stare at you, at your nervous little lip bite. "he's fine."

"is he feeling really sick? he told me he didn't want any medicine, but if he's got a headache or something, then i could give him a pain reliever. did he seem bad? should we take him to the doctor? i can probably schedule an appointment--"

you're cut off by satoru as he nears you, crushing you against his chest in a hug so tight that it knocks the air from your lungs.

seriously, jujutsu sorcerers and their sheer amount of muscle training are ridiculous.

"satoru--" you squeeze out, but he holds you even tighter.

"it's all good," he says like it's an answer, and he sounds like he knows something that you don't. probably because he does.

but after a moment you relax into him. even if you have to bribe him with cuddles, someone's going to tell you what's going on...

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ruewrote · 1 year

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𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑑𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒.

PAIRING: carl grimes x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: angst and fluff SONG INSPIRATION: sarah by alex g WORD COUNT: 994

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you were by carls side as he recovered from the gun shot, when he couldn't even sit up. when he'd yell at you to leave, to not look at him.

to not look at how hideous he is now. you thought nothing but the best of him always, a wound would not be changing that anytime soon.

you slept in a chair next to his bed in the infirmary, risking a sore body the next day but that didn't matter as long as you got to see him.

it was about time that he got relocated back over to the grimes residence, you were the first to jump up and offer assistance.

"ill help! i could bring his stuff back over and-" you were soon cut off by him, his nostrils flared, his teeth gritted, eye narrowed.

"oh my god will you please just shut up for five seconds, just go home. i don't need you here." his chest huffed out a sigh, turning away from you. his feet dangling off the edge of the bed.

biting your lip, blinking repeatedly trying to stop the tears from flowing. you nodded letting a wobbly okay. making your way over to the door giving him a last look over.

"i'm sorry that i bothered you, i hope you feel better soon." all you got in response was a scoff from across the room, that's when you took your leave.

sobs racked throughout your body as you ran over to your house, just wanting this day to be over as you flopped onto your bed and began thinking.

he had never spoken to you like that before, you just wanted to help. you just wanted him to heal. of course you did.

you went in circles for hours to think what would make him speak to you like that.

carl always had a soft spot for you. you had the unconditional you would die for each other sort of love.

everyone saw it as you used to walk hand in hand lightly swinging your arms as you leant into him as you strolled down the road to see judith.

now he was acting like he didn't even know you? it hurt more than words could explain, you just wanted your boyfriend back.

you eventually fell asleep with tears staining your cheeks.

you were determined to make him feel better, pounding a small rhythmic knock against the front door. letting out a deep breath, your frown replaced with a bright smile.

footsteps were heard, the door opened being met with rick with judith on his hip. she babbled and made grabby hands towards you.

plucking her off of rick, placing her on your hip instead. the three of you making your way further into the home. tickling judith as you did so.

"he's very delicate at the moment. he's far from the same, it might take a while for him to be back to normal, at this point i'm not even sure if he ever will be." your hand rested upon his shoulder giving it an reassuring squeeze letting him know that you could do this, you could look after him. not knowing if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

he looked hesitant as he took the small girl back from you explaining that he's leaving her with olivia and that he'd be back at the end of the day, closing the door behind him leaving the house empty and very quiet.

you made your way over to the kitchen deciding on making carl some soup, once you had finished cooking, putting the bowl and a glass of water on a tray, you tiptoed over to his room. silently opening the door, his back faced you as you placed the tray on his bedside table.

lightly shaking him as he stirred from his sleep he lightly grumbling then turned over. his face dropping when he saw it was you.

"i-i made you some soup and there's some water." you shrunk at the way he was staring at you, with what felt like hatred.

clearing his throat, pushing himself up by his elbows to look at you properly, "why are you here?"

"because believe it or not. i care about you carl."

that only led him to look away from you, nervously rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. scared to look back at you. "i don't understand why. i'm useless now, i'm ugly y/n don't you see that?"

your heart shattering at the horrible words he was spluttering at you, "none of that is true carl, it doesn't matter how you think you look, you're not ugly or useless. you're brave." gently holding his face in your hands, him refusing and trying to turn from you. but your hold on him was firm so he had no choice but to look at you.

"so so so brave, i can't even imagine how you must be feeling. i'm sorry this happened to you, you of all people do not deserve this. anything but this."

that's when the dam broke and he threw himself into your arms and cried, your hand stroking his hair as you held him. your hug soon turned into you cuddling, small sniffles were heard here and there as you whispered affirmations into his ear. he felt safe enough to fall into your arms that morning.

later that evening rick and judith arrived home, she had fallen asleep against him on the way back home. he was confused to come back and the house be completely quiet.

so after he had tucked his daughter in leaving a kiss on her forehead, he made his way over to carls room, making no noise as he opened the door. peeking over finding you peacefully cuddled together.

backing out of the room once again, closing the door with a small smile on his face, knowing his son was safe.

as long as he was with you.

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beneathashadytree · 4 months

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JUST A MAN - ZAYNE LI X READER

Warnings : mentions of death, anxiety, and loss, Zayne is bad with grief and feels responsible for everyone, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : hurt/comfort (for Zayne)

Word count : 2.2K words (oops)

Additional notes : Zayne was the reason I started playing this game in the first place. I love him dearly, and think he really deserves to be comforted. Like, a LOT.

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The click of the door closing was so careful that it was almost inaudible, and they would’ve missed it had they not been eagerly awaiting his return.

Before they had a chance to jump up and properly welcome him home and take his jacket from him, Zayne had already walked out of the hallway and into the living room where they were sat, resting on the sofa on their day off.

‘That’s… unusual,’ they thought to themself, furrowing their eyebrows as he only grunted some sort of half-hearted greeting, before slowly trudging up the stairs to their shared bedroom without so much as a word. ‘Very unusual.’

After a few minutes had passed—maybe quarter of an hour or so; just enough so as not to overwhelm him all of a sudden—they followed after him and carefully knocked twice on the mahogany door of the bathroom. “Zayne?”

A grunt came from behind the door, which they took as an invitation to enter. Once they did, they were greeted by the sight of him with furrowed eyebrows scrubbing furiously at his hands, the scarred skin nearly raw and bright red with each hard scratch of his blunt nails against it. The smell of rubbing alcohol and antiseptic permeated the air and stung their nose.

The whole scene felt like it had tugged at their heart and dragged it through their chest, leaving a bloody mess in its wake. A sigh of helplessness almost escaped them, but they knew better than to let it slip.

It was better to pretend that their very being wasn’t aching to soothe the agony translated onto his hands; the pain he’d inevitably try to mask. After all, Zayne was a man of many talents, and that included putting up a brave, fierce front when the man behind the mask was close to crumbling.

But what he seemed to forget at times was that they knew him better than anyone ever could, save maybe himself—and sometimes, it felt like even that was questionable. After all, with unconditional devotion came understanding tucked between lingering moments of silence.

Pulling his hand out of the scalding running water, they turned the faucet off. “You’ll hurt yourself like that,” they gently chided him, though not unkindly. Looking up, they found him to be blankly staring at his hands. With great care, they patted down his inflamed skin with the soft hand towel that had his name embroidered in wonky characters; a testament to them adding a little color to their shared life.

And a shared life entailed tending to each other at their lowest points, like they were determined to do now.

Now dry, they took his hands in theirs, reaching up to press gentle kisses to his palms. Maybe they hoped their lips would act as a soothing balm; some wishful thinking that he would normally fondly call childish. But now, all he did was inhale sharply at the contact, tensing up a little and growing stiff. Patting the backs of his hands, they guided him out of the stifling bathroom. “C’mon, let’s get you in bed.”

The prolonged silence was unlike any they’d ever shared before. Sure, Zayne had never been particularly talkative, and more often than not seemed all too happy to listen to them ramble on, his light-hearted quips the only thing interrupting the flow of their stories, and soft sounds of encouragement and amusement littered in between.

However, this was the sort of unnerving silence of words being tied back and shackled to one’s ribcage; of a burden weighing down and threatening to suffocate oneself. And they would be damned if they let him choke on his own words all alone. Not when he’d refused, over and over again, to let them suffer in solitude.

In their bedroom, they both sat down in the middle of the neatly-made bed. Reaching over to their bedside table, they took a small bottle of moisturizer they’d bought a couple of weeks ago. Zayne wasn’t the biggest fan of heavily scented products, so they’d taken care to buy something that smelled fresh but not too overwhelming—and the jasmine-scented cream fit the bill perfectly.

Small, gentle circles drawn onto the backs of his hands, thumbs running over every taut tendon and every protruding vein… with utmost care and patience they rubbed the cream into his skin. Using antiseptic and alcohol always left his hands a little on the dry side, and with such aggressiveness and intensity he’d no doubt have damaged his skin. It was a small gesture, but they hoped it showed that they worried about the littlest things concerning him.

The usually-perfectly-poised doctor looked so unbelievably tired, down to his bones. His verdant eyes, normally so sharp and expressive of his every emotion, only showed bone-deep weariness, and a slight chill climbed up their spine at how faraway his gaze seemed to be. His lips were pressed into a thin line, the corners of his mouth completely and utterly still. It was a far cry from the way they’d curl upwards just at the sight of them; he looked as though he were sealing his own mouth shut for fear of words tumbling out against his will.

It would’ve been far too easy to coax him into speaking. Zayne could never fully ignore them, no matter how much he wasn’t feeling up to engaging in conversation. With a chisel and a hammer in hand, it was all too easy to send his walls crashing and crumbling to the floor, forcing out a flood of words—but that wouldn’t do. If nothing else, they wanted to offer a safe space.

He’d come to them. He always would.

So they began to remove his crooked tie, loosening the knot and gradually tugging it off, looping it just the way he liked to stow it away in their closet. Button by button, they went down his rumpled white shirt, until it was fully opened.

Red splotches painted his neck and chest, a tell-tale sign of his tumultuous emotions. He always flushed deeply when he was in anguish, no matter how hard he tried to hide it; no matter how much his gaze avoided them at all costs. A set of his favorite cozy pyjamas (cotton, because he liked the crisp, clean feel of it) was soon placed on the bed beside him.

One of his hands reached out for it, the first indication of him being mentally present. He was grabbing it so hard that the darker skin of his scars stretched with the firmness of his hold; expressing some sort of insistence. They nodded, showing that they’d leave that to him, and began readying for bed themself, leaving him to his devices.

Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, he was quick to dress himself in methodical, concise steps, as though it was a chore that he needed to get done with as soon as possible. By the time they were done with changing and tidying themself up for the night, Zayne was already settled underneath the covers, stiffly leaning against the headboard.

When they joined him between the sheets and snuggled into him, they hadn’t expected him to be the first to speak. “One of my patients died on the operating table today.”

A sharp tug at their heart had them swallowing thickly at his hoarse voice. Ah. That explained it. Granting him their full undivided attention, they twisted in their seat and entwined their fingers with his, thumb gently drawing circles at the back of his hand. Just like he liked it.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you know them personally? Or were they referred to you?” Small talk. It was just small talk. Anything to get him to say what was on his mind.

Zayne tensed his jaw, shaking his head and momentarily closing his eyes. Too much. Maybe they shouldn’t have said anything. “Doesn’t matter.” A slight crack in his voice, and then he cleared his throat. Perhaps unconsciously, he squeezed their hand as a tortured expression flitted across his features. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I couldn’t save her.”

A sick feeling twisted in their gut. What impossible standards was this man trying to hold himself up to? “Zayne, my love. You can’t save everyone. That’s… that’s impossible.” Their tone was as gentle as could be, trying to get their point across. “I know you want to, but you can’t.”

“It’s my job,” he whispered, sheer agony lacing his words as a hand reached out to clutch his chest. Zayne, sweet Zayne, who felt everything too deeply and spoke so little of it. Zayne, who could probably physically feel the crushing weight of misplaced guilt on his soul. “I’m a doctor, for god’s sake.”

“A doctor, not an invincible savior.” Their words might’ve seemed cruel, but perhaps there was some cruelty to the truth; truth that he had to hear. “You’re not some omnipotent being. You’re burning out your own life force for the sake of everyone’s. It’s your job to try your best.” Determined eyes met a pair of troubled ones. “You go above and beyond your obligation.”

“But it wasn’t enough,” he choked out, twisting his neck as his face contorted in pain. “How does trying matter, if it’s all in vain?”

“You try when everyone else has lost hope. You cling onto every possibility and do your damned utmost for every life whose burdens you choose to carry. No one else does this, Zayne,” they quietly said, trying to point out just how incredibly he stood out in the field. “You’d lose not just sleep but even limbs, if it meant you could have a shot at saving someone. You’d carve your own heart out for someone else’s. Isn’t that sacrifice?”

“It’s all I can do.” A trembling hand left theirs, and both reached up to rub at his face. His expression hidden for a few moments, it obscured him enough to leave them wondering what was on his mind. “I have nothing else to offer.”

“It’s more than anyone else would do,” they repeated, their voice so achingly gentle that it threatened to tear him apart from the very core outwards. Just as tenderly, they pushed his hands away from his eyes, and brushed back his silken strands of hair from his forehead. “You’ve saved thousands. I know you have. You’ve saved me.”

Zayne squeezed his eyes shut once again, and though he seemed to be avoiding the confrontation of what bubbled underneath his skin, his body betrayed him. He couldn’t help but lean into their inviting palm cradling his cheek. He ached for their touch, but punished himself for every second he reveled in it. Taking a rattling breath, he managed to ask, “And how long will that last, before you’re taken away from me too?”

Something clawed at their chest and burst through. “I’m not going anywhere.” Firm, unyielding; like they were swearing an oath bound between their souls and bodies, tied with a knot by their searing skin against each other. “I’m yours in defiance of anything that dares to rip us apart. Do you hear me?” It took all they had to fight back the tears that welled up in their eyes at the sight of him so defeated by fate’s cruel hands. Ironic, when his own hands were the harbringer of life and compassion.

All energy seemed to escape him as he slumped forward, resting on them entirely as they caught him in their arms. Whether it was the heaviness of a burden shared or his weight taking them down, they both fell back onto the pillows. Was the shattering sound that of their heart breaking into a million pieces at such a sudden display of defeat, or was it that of decades-old walls crumbling into a heap on the floor?

Was the price of his vulnerability the destruction of his façade of indomitable strength?

It hurt. God, it hurt.

They didn’t know if that was something Zayne had said aloud, or if their own thoughts were ringing in their ears. In all cases, all they could do was collect his shards—every jaded piece of him that almost crumbled to dust—and pray that their embrace was enough for now; enough to put him back together again, if just for another day.

Caressing his back and nestling him into their chest, they wished they could tuck him away into a corner of their heart, and hide him between their ribs. They’d breathe for him and love for him, and he’d never have to worry again. But in the real world, they were just two adults, lost in a sea of tangled limbs and worn-out souls, desperation coating their every move. Love, after all, bore torment.

Kisses, feather-light and brimming with affection—and maybe tinged with the saltiness of tears—rained down upon his weary head. “Rest, my love,” they affectionately mumbled against his hair, pressing their lips in two sweet kisses upon the crown of his head, sealing things with a simple promise of everything they could both ever want. “I’ll still be there when you wake up.”

Time could only tell if their vows were to be fulfilled in spite of all the odds.

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maladaptivedaydreamsx · 1 month

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How the Rhodolite princes would react to their firstborn/newborn

Rating: PG-13 (?) Ikepri itself contains a lot of mature themes however, as such, mdni 🔞

Warnings: Brief mentions of (past) character death, grief, pregnancy/childbirth themes (no actual birth depicted), gn but implied afab, & the usual tragic Ikepri cannon.

A/N: Tried to write how they'd hold their kid and what they were feeling when meeting them. Spoiler warnings for the Rhodolite princes routes, tried not to bring up anything major though (Luke's is probably the most spoilery?). Tried to keep the princes' spouses GN, though implied afab bc newborns. (One very brief mention of Belle, but mc/reader is not Emma.) Might eventually make pt2 with the others..? Please read the warnings and proceed only if comfortable! :)

(Apologies for anything that seems ooc, I haven't written much in awhile and this is my first piece for Ikepri! I'm more used to fics rather than hcs, but I tried my best! o7)

JIN 🦅

There's so much Jin can't help but worry about. His past, his future, his country... and now he's got not one but two loved ones he would do anything for. The little bundle of joy in his arms reminds him of the times when his younger brothers were born, and how cute they used to be (well, some of them, anyway). The bleary, garnet eyes trying to look into his own have him wondering.. is this how he looked to his dear mother? There's so much he cherishes, and so much he fears, but he won't let the history of Belle repeat itself. He'd fight the entire palace if he had to, but for right now, he'll settle for tackling pesky burps and dirty diapers. Jin coos at his baby, baritone voice suddenly startling the poor thing, and he can't help but pout. The baby in his arms continues to fuss, feeling hungry.

Jin pulls something out of his breast pocket, looking over at his spouse. "So.. how much longer until they can have lollipops?"

CHEVALIER 🐅

Chevalier would likely be a bit awed upon holding his firstborn, much like the quiet way he takes in Emma's precence. Chevalier is known to be awkward with his affections, as he's far from practiced, but it's been shown on several occasions how he tries to gently pet an animal that dares to come close, or how he clumsily takes care of his love when they're feeling under the weather. He may look fine on the outside, but he's actually quite hesitant, trying to sort things out logistically at first, before sort of just settling for standing there and holding his newborn with both arms. He stares down at their gentle features, taking in every detail, making sure they're comfortable and warm in their sleep.

Looking over at his beloved in all their tired glory, in his very own Chevalier-approved affection he says, "You did well, Simpleton." While he only speaks four words aloud, his faint smile speaks the thousands he didn't quite know how to express.

CLAVIS 🐆

"Dearie me," Clavis says, holding his newborn, full of wide-eyed excitement. "They look so much like you, I can see the bunny ears already."

Being someone who values life so dearly, bringing a new one into this world, with the love of his life no less, is enough to send Clavis' heart soaring into the stratosphere. He just can't help but want to drown them in affection, but they're so small and fragile, and Clavis knows better than to risk scaring them now. He's so, so gentle with his child, unconditional love flowing off him in waves as they bond quietly (please don't get used to this, it will not last), and looks upon their splotchy tufts of lilac hair. The Lelouch genes live on through yet another generation, he smiles to himself. Clavis slowly comes over to stand by his love, placing a gentle kiss on their head.

"You're so lucky to have such a wonderful husband like me. But I'm even luckier to have you both in my life."

LEON 🦁

The happiest day in Leon's life. Second only to your wedding. Scratch that, the wedding is second.. he thinks. He's a bit frazzled from work, labor stress, and all the chaos, cut the guy some slack. No one is immune to this sweet lion's charisma, not even a newborn. They can't help but stare at his flowy hair and bright eyes, like a cartoon character come to life right before their eyes. Leon gently caresses their neck, very lightly pressing a kiss into their soft kiss to their temple. What kind of person will they grow up to be? Will they eat as much as he does? Will they fall asleep when they read too? There's a lot that runs through his mind, but ultimately, he is hopes for them to be healthy, and live happily. This child is going to be absolutely spoiled (within reason), and always have someone in their corner, rooting for them and ready to help learn from their wrongs. For now, he can worry about righting their posture instead. He tries to hold them like he read (how his partner read) in the parenting books, supporting their necks and all. It was really hard to stay awake during those, but the excitement of fatherhood helped him push through, and he's going to put it all into practice now.

"When do we start working on the second one?" (If not for the literal newborn currently in his hands, he'd be busy dodging several pillows.)

YVES 🐈

There's a lot of suppressed guilt for his mother's death in mind, and so many worries for his darling's health before, during, and after. He's a bit scared to hold his newborn, for fear of his clumsiness and "bad luck". With some assurance, he finally takes hold of them, and he could not physically be more careful with his firstborn. Clear eyes like the sky blink sleepily up at him, and Yves is fighting back tears solely for fear of them landing on the baby and somehow hurting them. The smile on his face could split his cheeks if it got any wider. The baby falls asleep in its father's arms, and he even tries breathing softer so he won't wake them. He's just trying his best, please reassure this sweet cat, he means well. (And he absolutely lost the battle against those blasted tears anyway.)

"Thank you for loving me, and for bringing our child into the world with us. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

LICHT 🐺

(Twins having twins cliché may seem redundant, I made 'em different for each brother, pinky promise.)

Licht was blessed with not one but two bundles of joy. Beautiful twin boys, who had what looked to be his vibrant silver hair and his beloved's eyes. He couldn't help the memories that surged, of happier times, and the worst of times. He knew all too well just how ruthless the court could be, but he had a chance to make things different this time. Licht seriously considered building that house he'd once mentioned, and moving you all somewhere much more peaceful. One twin in his arms, one with their other parent, he feels all thought subside when the one he's holding tries to grab at his sleeve. Licht's now-famous smile blooms across his lips much the way the sun's rays appear over daybreak; subtle, then all at once. He takes a gloveless hand, letting their tiny hand hold onto his finger as best they can, eyes gleaming from the sight before him. Licht looks over in wonder at his spouse, only to find them already watching with a tired, quiet smile.

"Things won't be easy but.. I know we can handle anything. I adore you. And I adore them."

NOKTO 🦊

(Twins for both may seem redundant, but I changed things up drastically ok, we got this.)

Nokto wasn't entirely surprised to have twins, but he had also hoped luck would be in their corner in avoiding similar fates. Two little girls, jewel-like eyes like his, and his beloved's hair color (or so it appears, though it's hard to tell for sure with so little peach fuzz). Nokto sits at the edge of the bed, holding one newborn in his arm, and reaching his other hand out for the one in his love's arms. Aside from the memories of his own upbringing, he's now having Typical Girl Dad thoughts about how to keep them safe and teach them how to stay away from cooties (boys), among other things. With a soft sigh, he gently burps his newborn after she's done feeding, rocking her slowly as she tries to chew on her father's lucious locks. Laughter bubbles past his lips at her cute antics, and Nokto feels the stress fade away, even if just a little. His heart is still getting used to receiving love and believing in it, but it's grown enough by now to love his 3 new favorite people in the world.

"If they like my hair this much now, just wait till they start to grow their own."

LUKE 🐻

Luke could not be more the picture of a teddy bear than with his newborn all swaddled up and snuggled in with their giant of a dad. He can't help but wonder if his sister is watching over them, laying next to his spouse on the bed, their newborn but a tiny dot among the two full-grown humans taking up most of the space. He promises to be there for his child the way he never really had anyone, and hopes to live more in the present now, the stakes feeling higher than ever before. A whole new life, created on purpose, gently resting in one arm and atop his broad chest, nestled comfortably and trying to suck on their thumb. Luke holds his spouse's hand with his free one, squeezing it gently, looking into their eyes with the intensity of his own emeralds.

"Look at 'em.. they're so small. Just like you," he jokes before letting out a big yawn, "But sleepy, just like me."

All rights for the characters and original intellectual property belong to Cybird. My writing belongs to myself, Maladaptivedaydreamsx, and shall not be reproduced elsewhere without permission. Ok to translate as a reblog to this post. Ok to reblog, no permission required (for those who like to be safe and ask first, all's good little homies) 💜

If you enjoyed these, I might try to make a pt2 with the other characters soon? Likes and reblogs appreciated, thank you kindly for reading! If you have any hc's of your own, please feel free to respond with them, I'd love to hear what you all think! 😊❤️ (If you'd like to be put on a tag list for any future works, please reply, though it will be a general list for writings as I'm getting back into things slowly atm,, 🙏🏻)

Also, to the lovely person who sent this in likely about 2 years ago (after I'd stopped writing on here bc life happens) ... if you're still somewhere in the fandom and end up seeing this post, thank you for your patience, and for sending something in. I'm finally trying to combat the writer's block again! 🙌🏻

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cooki3face · 10 months

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what would your divine masculine be like as a father

message: I’ve clearly forgotten how to work Tumblr, I’ve had to rewrite this like sixty times but anyway, I owe ya’ll like 600 readings because I’ve been gone but I believe mercury retrograde in Virgo is trying to teach me work-life balance and get me to slow down and reprioritize self-care and rest. I’ve been very unproductive as of late, and I’ve just been trying to be patient with myself and wait until I had it in me to push out any content. Today, or this evening I feel a little pushed or called to do this reading and give you guys something after the drought my blogs and social media accounts have been in, I hope you enjoy the reading and find it fun and entertaining! 💙

***

I’m automatically picking up on a very strong divine masculine here and energy. He’s enlightened, he’s in alignment with himself, his divine feminine, and he’s in tune. To say that he is only one parent all on his own would feel like an understatement as he is very nurturing, protective, and capable of many things, and being all the many people and guides and influences his children will need him to be throughout their lives. I’m hearing the saying “It takes a village.” And this is the type of father who could be the village all on his own if you couldn’t be there. You could have some sort of health issue or have a fear of not being able to be there for your children the way you should be or you may fear not being able to be the parent or the mother that they deserve due to your past and your experiences but this divine masculine is someone who will excel in parenting and raising children. If it so happens that you are not there or find moments where you’re not able to be completely there he would be able to take over and do what was necessary. That’s not to say that anything is going to happen to you or you’ll be faced with blockages that would prevent you from being present but if that were the case you could trust this divine masculine to carry your children as well as you.

This divine masculine loves you. He has a lot of love to give, he may have spent a large part of his life with his heart locked away in a box, or the love and the passion that he’s capable of giving locked away for his own safety so he could be sure he wouldn’t be giving it all away to the wrong person. He loves very deeply. You may know this person already and have a high-level soul mate connection with this person or a twin flame connection with this person. I’m hearing, you know this person's heart. You know who this person is, you recognize their higher self even if they don’t yet or the people around them don’t yet. And I see that he loves you very much, your children will be created out of love, will be well loved, and will be able to see what real love looks like. They’ll be able to see you not just being parents to them and loving them unconditionally but loving one another unconditionally.

You and this divine masculine could come from families with unstable relationships or marriages (ex. Divorce, a lack of marriage, abuse, etc.) and this connection was meant to break a generational curse, it is within your soul's purpose as a unit to break a generational curse and represent true unconditional love and partnership and I even feel called to bring this up because this divine masculine may have childhood trauma or deep wounds regarding his parent's relationship, seeing it be unsafe or unconventional or overall watching it fall away to nothing and feeling like he’s come from a broken family. In younger years of his life, he may run from commitments or run from you for fear that he is genetically cursed and his own marriage or relationship may feel if he were to invest in them. He could also have a very difficult or significant father figure here or a paternal line that holds a lot of weight or holds a lot of masculine energy wounds or wounding here and he may feel that because he comes from his father, he can only be him and that it’s only a matter of time before he turns into someone he doesn’t truly want to be or has had to forgive here.

He very deeply fears the shadow of his father. In earlier stages, this wounding could cause him to be afraid and maybe even pick up karmic habits of his father as if he’s trying to emulate him so that he could quickly become adjusted to who he believes he is going to become despite the feeling deep within his spirit that he wants something entirely different or doesn’t want to be that way. But, I see this divine masculine learning to turn his pain into power and learning to understand that his past circumstances and home life were a very large example of what it is he’s meant to change, break down, or do the opposite of. I’m hearing spirit asking how someone is supposed to make a difference or be the energy they want to be if they don’t see anything wrong within their family dynamics or within their past or experiences. This energy of creating strengths from within or spinning gold out of his experiences is not something he’s mastered yet or awakened to no matter how simple this concept may seem.

If you know this divine masculine already, he could be someone who always seems to be a couple of steps behind you, who may not be spiritually awakened, or who may step in and out of moments of alignment and enlightenment. I’m seeing a mermaid or a siren sitting on top of a rock in the sea just minding her own business and this would be you divine feminine and occasionally he peaks above the surface of the water, looking at you, admiring you, and even reaching his hand up to reach you but he’s quickly pulled down beneath the water by his own fears and karmic cycles. And when you reach your hand in the water or when you’ve reached your hand in the water in the past searching for him or trying to almost put yourself into alignment with him or come down to his level you may find even still that you could not reach him or see him because he was hiding and it wasn’t meant for you to come down to his level and shrink yourself down to fit into a reality or a energetic space you don’t quite belong in here divine feminine. That was really specific, but he will come into alignment and he will emerge from the water in all of his glory when the time is right and when he’s ready.

I’m seeing this divine masculine coming into his power and stepping into his higher self in time to become a father and raise children and him becoming a very gentle and patient father figure whose sole goal is to protect and to nurture his children and ease their suffering. There’s a very rough belief that parents need to prepare their children for the cold nature of the world by being cold to them so they know what to expect but I’m hearing that he’s had enough of the cold energy of the world and he wants a better world. I’m hearing that he experienced that type of parenting as a child and has been awakened to what it does to others and what it did to him and his only wish is to protect his children and to hold them all their lives no matter how big they get. No matter how cold the world gets they can always just come home. That’s what he wants.

He may spend a lot of his time as a father, working on himself spiritually, working through trauma, and reflecting on himself, his shadow, and his experiences and history so that he could be better and do better. When we grow up, we often forget where we came from, what we didn’t like as children, what types of things were hard for us and this constant self-reflection and introspection will make him a magnificent father. Very compassionate and understanding. His kids have a friend in him, a protector, and someone extremely loyal and dependable. I see this divine masculine being very heavy in the energy of protecting his children and shielding them from harm. He may be a father who is the first to stand up for his children and does it in a very outward way when he feels they’ve been wronged or mistreated, he may try to shield his children from social media or from the public if he’s someone who's in the public eye or generally just believes in evil eye and the idea that children and little souls are sacred and meant to be guarded. He is a protector of children. Fatherhood will serve him right.

He will wake up one day, next to his divine feminine, and all his five hunnit and sixty-thousand children, and realize that he wouldn’t rather be any place else and that this was the life he dreamt of, that this life heals his inner child, that this life is peaceful and safe and harmonious. I’m getting he’s going to be the type of man who keeps you pregnant every year or very frequently. He may come from a large family or come from a culture that very heavily values large families and lots of children. But, he will take care of you and make sure that your pregnancies are comfortable and that you receive the utmost care and support. He may even be very intrigued by your diet and wellness and may even educate himself on women’s health and maternity and holistic medicine. He could make a lot of money but be very focused on creating a good life for his children and for his wife. Buying the children's things, investing in his woman and her maintenance (e.g. Beauty, birthing luxuries, etc.) investing in her business ideas and desires, buying and investing money into houses, properties, cars, and the children’s education. He’s very serious about giving you and the children he gifts you with good lives!!!

He’ll learn that children teach you things and as a parent, it is not your job to know everything or shut down your children when they have ideas, differences in beliefs, etc. he will see fatherhood as a learning experience. I’m hearing he’ll become someone who is very strong in his belief that the children are the future and to build a better world means raising your children right and protecting them until the end. His approach to fatherhood and how good of a father is will contribute to his personal idea of success and happiness. When his children are upset with him or if he ever finds that his children dislike him this may bring about a large amount of depression or unhappiness for him. He may have grown up with a lot of conflict or may have had to fight to be treated with respect or be valued and acknowledged as someone who is deserving of peace, space, and good things and I see him passing on this energy to his children. They may grow up to have a way about themselves that’s very protected and serious about their boundaries and their respect. He may also take the time out to teach his children how to fight or involve them in martial arts from a young age.

He’ll always be planning ahead and looking out for these children as they complete him. You couldn’t ask for a better father figure he is the embodiment of the divine masculine, of the emperor. His past experiences will play a huge part in who he is as a parent and who he is as a father. He sees the inner child in everyone and he will most definitely see the inner child in his children. And he will give to them until he doesn’t have anything left. His children and his wife are his main priorities and he gives this energy that if it’s not about his money, about his wife, or about his kids he doesn’t want to talk. Don’t invite him lol.

***

ii.

Pile two, you may be really young when you conceive this baby, I'm hearing late teens or early twenties here. This baby could be a surprise for the both of you. Your divine masculine maybe someone you met and started seeing or talking to and it may have been a very chill connection that was flowing very nicely and creating a safe space for the two of you here. I’m getting very light and airy energy. You could meet this person around the spring or even early winter around Christmas time or around the holidays. You could’ve not met this person yet I’m hearing or you could be searching for your soul mate or for your twin flame or for some sort of divine partnership here that’s going to come in for you when you least expect it. There’s an energy of spirit really giving you the life you wanted, the connections you wanted in a very fast and sporadic fashion. Like really throwing it at you or flipping your whole entire world upside down with drastic changes. You may be an air sign or someone whose life is typically very disorganized or be very hectic and unpredictable. You also could’ve grown up in similar environments and have grown really used to the twists and turns of life.

And I’m hearing spirit saying that they’ll bless you that way as well and these sudden changes will then bring you your wish fulfillment and stability. It’s almost like you and this person had a very casual connection yet you may feel very connected and drawn to this person or feel very safe with this person. This person may travel a lot or be very adventurous or someone who is an earth sign or someone who likes to spend a lot of time outside, who may enjoy hiking, fitness, or sports, or be really into health and wellness and curating a beautiful lifestyle. This person really gives me like American psycho vibes almost but like except the murdering people and the like super over-formal and business-type energy. Like this person could be a little bit of a perfectionist and could be really particular and organized in his life and may be someone who is the opposite of you or reflects back to you the stability that you and your inner child crave. I'm getting “best part” by Daniel Caesar.

You could be someone who is generally very emotionally immature or someone who has a very childlike energy to them and may take that approach in relationships or may have had deep relationships in your past that were very chaotic and had an air of emotional immaturity that may have left you feeling hopeless or even unfulfilled or maybe a little undervalued and undeserving and I think spirit may give this person to you in a manner that’s very casual and immature like in energy and it may blossom into something bigger or you may feel as though this divine masculine is too good to be true and you may run from him or doubt your belonging in this connection but spirit is going to force you to stay with this person and understand what it feels like to be genuinely loved and be with someone who genuinely feels right for you. You could be someone who has to fall a couple of times to really get a lesson or who has to be beaten over the head with your lessons by the universe until you finally get it as well.

You may perceive your fate with this person or your connection with this person to be very unrealistic or again too good to be true but I do see some type of surprise pregnancy here. And you and your divine masculine may feel uneasy about this or as if this is some type of delay or something but this is really a blessing in disguise or a manifestation of what real love is. This child will be the result of real love and genuine connection. This child will be a physical manifestation of the love you’ve been looking for all your life. The stability you’ve been looking for all your life because the stability and the safety that is within your divine masculine will be within this child as well. This child and this connection will be spirits way of forcing you and your divine masculine to open your eyes and think far into the future and have something to fight for and create good lives around.

This divine masculine will take the insecurity and the lack of self-love and feminine power and energy you have within you and turn it into love to give right back to you and he will empower you as a divine feminine but also as a mother. He could see the true potential in you and see magic within you you don’t even see within yourself. This person will love you pile two and they’ll love the baby. They’ve discovered an entirely new world within you and your love, they’ve discovered a new purpose. And because of you and this experience your divine masculine will step into his higher self and truly embody this emperor energy and take care of and protect what’s his. The two of you may be nervous and feel that this level of change could result in something destructive and difficult for you but your minds will quickly change once you come into alignment with reality.

I see this person using all their gifts and talents to approach fatherhood and welcome a new baby into the world. This person like I said before could be really organized or be someone who likes to travel or is into health and wellness and they will apply the things they’ve learned in life to fatherhood this person may also be really smart, really good at math, or something of the sort and this person will teach their children a lot of the things that they’ve learned when it comes to math and academics. Instilling a hunger for learning and expansion of the mind in your children. They’ll be stepping into their power and pouring into your child and their child everything that they have within them. This person will be a young new father and he’ll want to take the baby with him everywhere.

I see him being at the grocery store with the baby in a carrier or taking the baby on morning jobs or on hikes or taking the baby to the bank with him or out to run errands and even taking the baby with him when he goes out to eat or treats himself to meals, all this while the baby is a attached to him. He’ll be the sort of father who prides himself in how much time he spends with his child and genuinely enjoys going on adventures with the baby. He may even be a father who is incredibly considerate of you and how much time you put into feeding and caring for the child, as well as how much rest you get. He’ll take on duties, he’ll feed and change the baby and take him outside to get fresh air when you need to rest. You won’t be a single parent who's married. You’ll be heavily cared for and he’ll make sure to create a safe space for you and honor you as not only his woman but a mother.

I see this baby healing him and healing his heart as well. He may have grown up feeling picked on or feeling like a bit of an outsider or like someone who didn’t feel validated in his ability to do things or in his talents. Nobody ever told him good job or gave him a pat on the back for making good decisions or doing well in things like school, sports, etc he could’ve been someone who took up a lot of hobbies, took up a lot of skills, or did a lot of things so he could get the validation and the attention he deserved and wished for. His background with health and wellness and fitness may have come from this but this baby will heal his connection to his hobbies and to taking care of his body not out of image and for the sake of other people and the way they view him but as someone who does what he does and enjoys what he does out of self-love because he wants to take care of himself, his mind, his body and he able to take care of his child and show up as the best version of himself.

For this baby, he’ll be dropping the remainder of any bad habits , insecurities, self limiting beliefs, and karmic people and cycles. He may even find within him the courage to remove himself from connections with people (family, friends, exes, etc.) who bring him down or make him feel bad or unhappy because he will be all for creating a safe emotional environment for you, for the baby, and for himself. I see a large heart chakra opening. Self-compassion, self-forgiveness, self-awareness, self-reflection. For himself and for you. Everything will align for him because of this baby and because of you, everything will make sense. He’ll be forever grateful and that energy will reflect in how he treats you and the life that you’ve gifted him with because he will grow to understand the significance of a woman in general but of a woman he loves and how much magic she can give him. All you have to do is give him his son and he’ll give you the rest lol. His inner growth will serve as a long-term investment in this baby's life and in your life. He will blossom into someone so enlightened and whole. He’ll socialize and connect with others in ways you haven’t seen before, he’ll be open to receiving and accepting better friendships and people who will contribute to his happiness and support him.

He may also become really involved in what to feed the baby when the baby starts on solids or starts eating real food. He may be interested in cooking meals for the baby, feeding the baby all types of different fruits and vegetables and expanding the palette. And he may also start giving the baby food even before most people say the baby is ready or encouraging the baby to try different flavors. I'm also getting like, do you remember how it used to be a trend to give a baby a lemon. He's one of those dads.

***

iii.

Out of nowhere, I’m hearing “Rock Your Body” by Justin Timberlake. I haven’t even shuffled the spread yet for pile three. I accidentally typed playlist instead of spread and I believe nothing is a coincidence. You may meet this person out dancing or this person may really like dancing or you really like dancing. I’m hearing “Don’t be so quick to walk away, dance with me. I wanna rock your body, please stay.” I’m also hearing the part of the song where it’s like “Talk to me, boy. No disrespect, I don’t mean no harm. Talk to me, boy. I can’t wait to have you in my arms. Talk to me, boy. Hurry up cause you’re taking too long.”

This could be someone you know already. Your divine masculine could be an ex or someone you had a connection with who almost felt like the right person wrong time. You could be secretly in love with this person here or could’ve been in love with this person for a long time and you may not have had the ability to love them the right way or be in a harmonious relationship with them but you always come back to one another and there’s love there but this divine masculine may run from you or be the runner within your connection. I see you trying to get this person to open up to you or to open up to you again here. I don’t know if there’s history here or some energy of you and this person being sweethearts of some sort or loving each other or having a relationship during your school years or during your early/late teens. This is really random for this portion of the reading but you could be really adamant about this child participating in extra curricular stuff like dance or sports. You could be into dance or sports.

The whole entire song, is really on point and I feel it resonates. Obviously, it’s a pop song and it’s very fun and like has a club vibe because it’s Justin Timberlake but if you look at the lyrics it’s clearly an exchange between two people, it’s clearly them talking about love and not being afraid to hold it or have it between the two of them. There could’ve been some sort of break up or some sort of rift between the two of you that caused some sort of space. There could’ve been a third-party interference or someone involved that couldn’t pushed a wedge between the two of you and affected this connection. Idk There’s a lot about this connection and I’m feeling called to channel and pull cards for it even though this reading is about what your divine masculine would be like as a father but apparently all of this is significant to the two of you and your connection.

I feel like the two of you may end up being intimate at an odd time in your life or within your connection and it may result in a pregnancy here. I think this person obviously loves you but there may be some sort of fear or trust issues involved regarding something that happened with a third party or within a past version of your connection but I’m hearing a spirit baby will be sent down to bring the two of you together and mend the connection. You could be a virgin or be someone who is not very sexually active or someone who hasn’t really explored their sexuality and that side of them yet but I see all of this coming to ahead with this person being around and all of this is a part of the divine plan here. This person may be older than you. Be very close to you or be a friend of the family of some sort as well. They may have some type of experience over you as well as sexually and you may end up getting in a habit of being intimate with this person or sharing moments of intimacy with this person and one thing will lead to another here.

I see this divine masculine being a very protective father here. And it is genuinely because they see so much of this child within you and them protecting this child will be them protecting you or loving you through this child even when you’re at odds or even in moments where they feel closed off or distant despite loving you very much and admiring you. I hear spirit telling me that a child with your divine masculine would bring so much needed Justice to your connection and to his world. His love for this child will draw him closer to you and make him love you even more and push him to become awakened to this connection and how much you truly mean to him and how much he needs to heal and let you in the way things used to be. This person may feel that you’re in a love drought or feel that they’re disconnected from you or that you’re generally out of their reach and I see fatherhood allowing your divine masculine to over come this and not feel that way anymore. “Love drought” by Beyoncé could be significant. Also “she’s mine” parts one and two by J. Cole.

All of these memories you have, all of this time you’ve spent together will ultimately come back to this divine masculine and open him up without you having to lift a finger. The formation album is really significant to me right now, the way she goes through these motions, the way she tells this story and talks about her healing journey and the process of healing. I’m not saying we should be cheating on each other and staying married or anything but there is a level of unconditional love and rebirth that Beyoncé is talking about throughout this album. Connections have to go through cycles, past versions of connections have to die, they have to be reborn again, and the people within them have to die again and again and again and reborn themselves so they can continue to love one another as a collective, as a unit.

And that’s why Beyoncé stayed married to her husband after their hardship and what happened because she loves someone unconditionally, even when his karmic cycles and energies come up and push him to make bad decisions and put her in unfortunate situations, she loves him even still, because she grows to understand that his actions have nothing to do with her and her glory, her beauty, and her magic and they have everything to do with the way he feels/felt about himself. The energy you bring to your connection, to your divine feminine/divine masculine is the energy you’re harboring within you. I say all of this because it pertains to your connection with this divine masculine as well. Whatever this was that created the space, that brought death to the connection for rebirth, all of these memories, all of the love, all of the connection and intimacy will give the connection life again. He will pour his knowledge of unconditional love into your child, he will love your child unconditionally as he chooses to love you.

He will be able to let go of self-limiting beliefs and fears and the ego-based energy that keeps him stagnant or keeps him away from you or at a distance. This very well may be a twin flame connection that you have here, this rebirth, this release of co-dependent ideas and limiting beliefs and mindsets are very twin flame connection esc. His self-care and his self-love will be loving you, allowing himself to be truly connected with you, and loving the baby he created with you. This baby will bring upon true rebirth and inner calling. This will be a wish fulfillment for him and he will treat it as such.

I know this message was different from the other piles but I know it was meant.

***

I don't know who needs to hear this but DO NOT SETTLE!!! These divine masculine that belong to you, that you will lives with exist! You need to believe that and be ready to receive them. These people, these divine masculines may still be unawakened or still be sorting through their own trauma and cycles and coming into alignment with themselves and you may feel as though the right person for you, your divine counterpart doesn't exist or isn't out there but that is simply not the case. He is out there but spirit is preparing him for you, getting him ready so that when he comes you may receive each other and live in harmony. Don’t settle. Don’t become discouraged.

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that-basic-simp · 2 months

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Soft Kisses

Mizu X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.0k+ A/N: Hope y'all like a sh!t ton of fluff!

Blinking my eyes open, I found a rare sight before me. Mizu. Asleep. Peacefully. Usually she'd wake up from a nightmare or something would cause her to stir awake, preventing her from falling back asleep. In turn, it would wake me up, getting me an early start to the day. She'd always feel bad about waking me up earlier than I'd like to, but I didn't mind. Especially if she woke up from a nightmare. She went on for so long without getting comfort and whenever I offered it for the first time, she didn't understand it. She left and didn't come back until sundown. It worried me, but after each time I helped her calm down, she finally understood what comfort felt like. Unconditional love and comfort.

Finding her asleep put a smile on my face. I carefully reached over and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. Her long, black hair that didn't always look black. There were some times it looked brown to where I questioned what color it was. Maybe it turned black in the summer and brown in the winter. Or vice versa. It was something of the sorts.

The brushing of my finger pad over her skin caused her to blink her eyes open. I smiled wider as I was met with those alluring blue eyes of hers. The one thing she hated about herself, but one of many things that made me love her.

"Morning, Mizu."

A small smile crept on her lips as she reached up, taking my hand, "Morning."

Oh that raspy morning voice. I can't tell if it was her natural morning voice or the one she uses to disguise herself. Either way, it sent a chill up my spine, causing the hairs at the back of my neck to stand up.

"Anything planned for today?"

"Unless Taigen comes unprompted again, no. Other than just spending another lovely day with you at my side."

"Oh, Mizu," I playfully pushed her.

She was never one to be flirty or romantic, not at the beginning, anyway. It was hard for her to show love, but she knew I understood it took her a while. Her past relationship wasn't the best on her, so when we started ours together, it was a long road of being cautious with her. She was cautious around me as well, but I had to know her triggers and what set her off. And they were very easy to know. But the one thing that didn't trigger her was whenever I complimented her eyes. At times, I'd find her standing there, confused on why I said that. She had to process that someone in this world actually enjoyed looking at her eyes. And didn't scrutinize her for them. Didn't call her names that weren't true. That someone was actually capable of loving that part of her that she despises.

"I'm being honest," she said.

"I know you are," I said and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Some blush crawled over her cheeks as I did that. Another thing about Mizu: she's easily flustered. Especially when I show her any form of affection aside from holding her hand. And we weren't even out in public. If I were to kiss her cheek whenever we were strolling around a village, her red nose would turn even more red and her cheeks would turn a light pink. It was easily noticeable if you were looking right at her, but if you were just walking by, you'd think it was the cold getting to her. But it wouldn't be the excuse for the spring and summer. She'd blame it on allergies in the spring and the heat in the summer.

"Can we stay like this for a little longer?" Mizu asked.

"Of course, Mizu. You don't need to ask to stay with me."

"I-I just feel like I need to. In case you had something planned for today."

"Other than spending my day with you, I didn't have anything planned."

"Good," she mumbled, pulling me closer to her, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

I smiled and wrapped my arms around her, brushing at the long strands of hair. I rested my head on top of hers, holding her tightly as she would place light and soft kisses to my neck. I giggled quietly as she did that, which led her to pull away and look at me.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Nope," I said, cupping her cheeks, pulling her towards me.

"Why are you staring?"

"I can't admire you?"

She shrugged, "Never really had someone do that."

"I'll be the first."

"If you'll be the last, too," Mizu smiled.

"Of course, Mizu."

I leaned towards her, placing a gentle kiss to her nose, both of her cheeks, her forehead, and finishing it off, I placed one to her lips. Pulling away after a few moments, Mizu smiled at me once more, her eyes appearing to be brighter than their darker shades whenever she's angry or pissed off. I loved that about her eyes, too, how different they can look depending on what mood she is in. The one where she wants revenge is the most horrifying, yet, all the more beautiful.

The pad of my thumb caressed the skin underneath her eye, as I stared into them, longing for this moment to last forever and ever. To return the favor, Mizu leaned towards me and pressed a kiss to my forehead, to my cheeks, and along my jawline she could reach before leaving one on my lips behind.

How could such a woman who is filled with revenge and hate be so kind and gentle? Soft one minute, a raging storm the next. I don't know how she did it. It amazed me. It made me want to know more about her, even though I knew every little detail about her. But there are still things she keeps in the dark from me, which I don't mind. They're mostly the darkest thoughts she has ever experienced. A different side of her that she never wants anyone to see, not even me. A part of her she wants to bury deep within herself in the hopes of being forgotten.

That aside, I pulled her towards me, this time, being the one to bury my face in the crook of her neck. I let out a sigh as I took in her warmth, despite her being one that lacks a lot of it with how skinny and somewhat malnourished she was. That we were working on, but I can't force her to eat if she doesn't want to.

"I love you, Mizu."

"I love you, too, Y/N."

#bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu #blue eye samurai

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palms-upturned · 2 years

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YEAH AND ITS LIKE KIM IS THIS WISH FULFILLMENT FANTASY FOR SUICIDAL PEOPLE RIGHT, LIKE HE MEETS YOU AT THE EXACT MOMENT THAT YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO REBOOT YOUR WHOLE LIFE, HE DOESN’T KNOW YOUR PAST OR HAVE ANY PRIOR OPINION OF YOU, HE ONLY GETS TO KNOW THE VERSION OF HARRY THAT YOU’RE TRYING TO RESHAPE AS THE PLAYER. AND HE HOLDS YOU ACCOUNTABLE WITHOUT BEING JUDGMENTAL, AND HE’S KIND AND PATIENT AND EVEN GENUINELY LIKES YOU AND YOUR COMPANY! HE’S LIKE A PILLAR OF STRENGTH AND THE MOMENT YOU LAY EYES ON HIM YOU JUST KNOW THAT HE WOULD LITERALLY DIE TO PROTECT YOU. HE’S JUST SOMEONE WHO YOU FEEL SUPER SAFE WITH IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD, YOU KNOW? SO PART OF THAT HALO IMAGERY IS A REFLECTION OF THAT, LIKE YEAH HARRY HAS A HABIT OF IDEALIZING PEOPLE AND ITS BAD BUT ALSO KIM DOES REPRESENT AN IDEAL TO THE PLAYER. WHAT’S HOLY ABOUT HIM IS THAT IDEAL OF UNCONDITIONAL LOVE AND SUPPORT. AND ON TOP OF THAT KIM’S HALO HAS THAT SORT OF DOUBLE MEANING OF A SUNRISE. HARRY IS FIXATED ON THE IDEA OF A SUNSET AND HIS LIFE COMING TO AN END BUT KIM TURNS HIS ATTENTION TO THE SUNRISE INSTEAD. THATS WHAT THAT HALO BEHIND KIM REALLY IS. THE SOUND OF THE KINEEMA AND KIM’S ARRIVAL IN HIS LIFE IS WHAT WAKES HARRY FROM HIS BLACKOUT BUT THE INFERNAL ENGINE ISN’T THE KINEEMA, IT’S HARRY! WAKING UP EVERY DAY JUST TO DO IT ALL AGAIN! AGAIN! GETTING WORSE EVERY DAY BUT STILL HANGING ON IN THE HOPES OF SOMEDAY GETTING BETTER. SUNRISE PARABELLUM, TIME TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY. BUT HARRY DOESN’T HAVE TO FIGHT ALONE! IF YOU TREAT KIM RIGHT HE’LL STICK BY YOU. AND THAT’S THE ONLY WAY TO GET THROUGH IT, YOU KNOW? WITH SUPPORT. BUT THE PROBLEM IS THAT KIM IS STILL A COP, RIGHT? AND HE ONLY GIVES YOU THAT SUPPORT BECAUSE YOU’RE ALSO A COP. THE SAD TRUTH OF THE WHOLE GAME IS THAT THERE’S NO ENDING WHERE EITHER OF YOU STOP BEING COPS. YOU PROBABLY NEVER WILL. WHEN THE GUYS FROM THE UNSOLVEABLE CASE GET DRUNK AND CAUSE TROUBLE, THEY GET BRUTALIZED BY HARRY AND NOBODY CARES BECAUSE THEY WERE DRUNKS. WHEN HARRY GETS DRUNK AND BRUTALIZES CIVILIANS, HE GETS OFFERED A PROMOTION BECAUSE HE’S A COP. AND KIM ISN’T ABOVE ABUSING HIS POWER IN PETTY WAYS EITHER. THE TRUTH IS THAT IF YOU WEREN’T A COP HE WOULD TREAT YOU THE SAME AS ANY OTHER ADDICT ON THE STREET. HE WOULDN’T BE YOUR FRIEND. ISN’T THAT FUCKING SAD? THE BEAUTIFUL HOLY MIRACLE OF DISCO ELYSIUM THAT HARRY AND KIM COME SO CLOSE TO GLIMPSING IS JUST LOVE. GENUINE LOVE AND CARE FOR PEOPLE AROUND YOU AND LETTING IT MOVE YOU TO BE KIND IN MATERIAL WAYS. THAT’S WHAT KEEPS THE INFERNAL ENGINE GOING. THAT’S WHAT SHIVERS MEANS WHEN IT SAYS “I LOVE YOU.” THE CITY LOVES YOU BECAUSE COMMUNITIES ARE NOTHING WITHOUT LOVE. AND ALL OF THIS IS COMPLETELY ANTITHETICAL TO THE POLICE STATE. THATS WHY YOU GET A GLIMPSE OF IT IN MARTINAISE, A TOWN ABANDONED BY THE POLICE. EVERYONE THERE KNOWS WHAT IT MEANS TO BE POWERLESS. EVERYWHERE THEY LOOK THEY SEE THE SCARS OF BOMBINGS AND FAILED ATTEMPTS TO GENTRIFY THEM. HELL, EVEN THE PALE IS CREEPING INTO THE CITY. BUT THE PEOPLE KEEP GOING. YOU KEEP GOING. AND YOU ALMOST REALIZE WHY. BUT YOU NEVER QUITE GET THERE BECAUSE A COP WILL ALWAYS BE A COP FIRST AND A HUMAN SECOND, INCLUDING KIM. HE’LL KEEP DRESSING LIKE A REVOLUTIONARY AND THERE WILL PROBABLY ALWAYS BE THAT LITTLE SEED OF SHAME IN HIM BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE’S LYING TO HIMSELF BUT HE’LL NEVER DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT BECAUSE HE’S RESIGNED HIMSELF TO BEING UNABLE TO CONCEPTUALIZE A FUTURE BEYOND THE FAILURES OF THE PAST OR THE PRESENT STATUS QUO. BUT THE TRUTH IS THAT THERE IS NO FUTURE FOR A POLICE STATE. AND HE KNOWS IT BUT HE WON’T FACE IT ANY MORE THAN HE’LL FACE THE DIFFERENCES IN HOW HE TREATS YOU VS CUNO OR THE KIDS ON THE ICE. HARRY IS THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD EVER BE ABLE TO SEE KIM AS A SAINT BECAUSE HE’S A COP. AND IN THE END YOU AND KIM LEAVE THE REALITIES OF MARTINAISE BEHIND THE SAME WAY THAT DORA LEAVES THE REALITIES OF DISABILITY AND POVERTY BEHIND WHEN SHE LEAVES HARRY. THE LOVE WAS ALWAYS CONDITIONAL AND ALWAYS WILL BE IF THEY CAN’T STOP BEING COPS. ANYWAY HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF TEHO TEARDO AND BLIXA BARGELD—

Image description: two people at a party or concert of some kind. One person is leaning into the other’s ear and shouting with an arm around their shoulder, the other is standing stiffly and looks exasperated. End description

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #all caps #SORRY. I SWEAR IM DONE NOW.#MARTINAISE i meant they leave the realities of martinaise behind not revachol. but i mean. that too in a way

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cherrye · 2 months

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sweet things

oikawa tooru x gn!reader

a/n: had to dump this b4 my brain explodes

there’s something about you that makes tooru just want to sit you on a beautiful throne and offer you all the love and possessions he can give you. maybe it’s the way you get flustered with every sweet thing he does, or the way you give your all in showing him the love he deserves — it’s apparently an innate desire to see you glowing with joy and love.

case in point, while he likes to act as if he were only doing it because it looked like your spine was about to deform from the weight of your bag (it really wasn’t heavy), he likes to insist on carrying your bag, especially when you’ve been adjusting its handle or strap on your shoulders. even if you do decline the offer, you’ll find yourself smiling when you feel the bag lighten a bit (it’s definitely not because of him lifting the bag from the bottom).

another thing is keeping you out of harm’s way. whether or not you’re a clumsy person, his spider senses activate as soon as you do something that may potentially harm you.

something fell under the table? he’s immediately covering your head with his hands when you crawl down to get it back.

filming the beautiful scenery? tooru already has his hands on your waist to keep you from bumping into people or tripping over your own feet.

but, what if you’ve already hurt yourself? he’s already on his way to fulfill his duty as your nurse… after he finishes laughing, of course.

lastly, while his job as a pro player takes up most of his time, he does his absolute best to make time for you. and, during those day offs he gets to spend with you, he’s paying full attention to you.

he loves hearing you talk about your day, especially when you go into full detail like how the music you were playing was coincidentally matching a random pigeon’s stride, or even how a little pebble in your shoe somehow threw off your luck for the day.

what he loves the most though is when you sit him down on the bed to watch you try on everything you bought that day. tooru’s fully engrossed in the try-on haul and acts as if he was invited to paris fashion week, watching models strut down the runway. he even goes as far as acting like a photographer and going into all sorts of weird poses to “get the best angles” when you model by the doorway.

and during those days you feel as if you’re truly unworthy of the treatment he has been giving you, he’s quick to wrap you up in his arms and remind you that you deserve everything in this world and so much more than what he can offer you.

“i love you, y/n. everything i do for you is because i love you and you love me. i don’t care if you think you don’t deserve it because it’s my choice, and i believe you deserve it and so much more. you are a person worthy of unconditional love and care, i hope you will understand this. it doesn’t have to be right now, but i hope it’ll be in the near future, my love”.

#haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #cherrye.writes

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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

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songbird | bradley bradshaw x f!reader

masterlist | part two

i am dedicating this fic of filth to my sweet sweet friend @rolycolysficrecs who puts up with me and let's me scream about linguistics and biting to her<3

description: Bradley and you have rented a cabin for a winter getaway. Maybe the seclusion and beauty will offer new experiences?

disclaimer: explicit smut. 18+ minors dni!!!

warnings: afab!reader, explicit smut, mentions ptsd, mental health mentions, mentions of scars, mentions of stretch marks (m and f), oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, body worship (m and f receiving), daddy kink, nipple play, emotional sex, sub space, tears, choking if you squint, minor breeding kink, aftercare, ab riding, slight hair pulling

word count: ~7K

tagging people who might like: @roosterforme @mak-32 @theharddeck @lt-bradshaw @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts @notroosterbradshaw @currentlybradshaw @bradleyssweetheart

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for you, there’ll be no more crying.

The sweet sounds of Christine McVie’s lyrics permeated the air of the small wooden cabin, the light crackling of the vinyl player further emphasizing the serene ambience of the candle lit living room. Rooster was stood in the adjoining kitchen, preparing two cups of irish coffee, currently stirring the hot coffee - the soft clinks of the spoon hitting the sides of the cups soothing you as you sat on the sofa in front of the open fire.

Outside the window, large flakes of snow were falling from the skies, like fluffy cotton balls that engulfed the earth, covering it in a heavy weighted blanket. As you glanced at your boyfriend, your heart ached with love for him. It had been a heavy night and start of the day for him.

Usually you could hardly tell that Rooster had had a bit of a rough go at life, and that his work sometimes put him under immense stressors. He took it in stride, spreading his unconditional joy without abandon. But some days, like this one, he just couldn’t give anymore. And that was perfectly alright. He never told you, but you could recognize the signs well enough by now.

It was December, and the holidays were coming up, which you knew were sometimes a hard time for Rooster. The two of you had barely had any sleep during your first night in the cabin you’d rented for the week - it happened sometimes when there was a change of scenery for Bradley, when he wasn’t on the job.

It was like his body somehow refused to relax, and therefore replayed stressful events to kickstart his fight or flight, just in case. After having lived with Rooster for some time, you’d learnt how to best deal with your partner as he woke up in a cold sweat, or when he laid awake for hours - sleep evading him until the early morning hours.

You knew what it was like to love him through it all. You never tired of holding him when he needed it, never tired of gently wiping his tears away and soothing his frayed nerves. Never tired of talking soothingly to him, never tired of trying to gauge what sort of reaction he would have when he came to. Although you knew he thought you were beginning to tire of it.

You wanted to tell him, much like Christine sang, that it was alright. You loved him. All of him. Quirks, happy and sad, and you could never tire of trying to make him the happiest he could be.

Looking up at your boyfriend as you heard him whip cream by hand for your drinks, you were once again overwhelmed by the feelings that sprang from somewhere deep within your chest - taking in his tall and broad form.

Bradley might be tall and broad, but you knew that he must feel very small right now - and you wanted him to know that it was okay to be small sometimes, it was okay to not withstand and push through it all. It was okay to rest. He could rest with you. But you knew, deep down, that your words wouldn’t be enough to convince him - so you were going to have to show him.

for you, the sun will be shining.

Sitting down next to you, Bradley gingerly put your irish coffees down on the low table in front of the cozy sofa. Sighing softly, he tried to let his body relax into the cushions, his upper body leaning heavily against the backrest - palms going up to rub at his eyes. He’d slept horribly, and he woke you up because of his sitting upright with a strangled gasp that bordered on a groan from his nightmare.

As usual, his too-good-for-him girlfriend had held him close to her chest as he rambled anxiously, keeping his palm over her steady heartbeat to soothe him and help ground him. It always worked, which ticked Bradley off. Of course he was thankful, but he was so tired of not being able to manage it on his own. He’d finally fallen asleep, his head on your chest, counting your heartbeats and matching his breaths to yours, your fingers in his hair, soothing him.

“How’re we feeling, honeypie?” your soft voice broke the silence that had stretched in the cabin. Those words alone had indignant tears burning behind Bradley’s closed lids. Why? Why did you caring so much for him make his chest ache like this?

“I–” Bradley had to stop himself, his voice nearly breaking from emotion, shaking his head and swallowing. Your soft body soon crawled over to him, straddling his bare thighs, settling on top of his boxer-clad lap. At the feeling of your weight pressing against his chest, feeling your soothing hands smooth over his navy blue hoodie, Bradley let out a shuddering breath, a tear slowly falling from his closed lids at last.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know that?” God, the sweeter you were about his bad day, the more he felt like breaking apart. “I know,” he choked out “I just so badly wanted this time to go well,” Bradley confessed, feelings of shame and disappointment rolling over him like powerful tides.

“I know, sweetheart,” you murmured against his pulse point. “You do know that one bad day does not mean that this trip is in any way ruined right?” his heavy sigh told you that he did not know that.

“Bradley,” the way his name rolled so softly off of your lips had his heart stuttering, and as he felt your palms cradling his cheeks, he dared open his amber eyes to meet your loving gaze. “Every moment I get to spend with you is a moment I love. Of course, I love seeing my beautiful, happy Rooster - but you, Bradley, are the most important.” his girl took a beat, letting the words sink in before continuing “I will love you in every which way you come, okay?”

Was this unconditional love? The feeling of being loved even though you felt wholly unlovable?

“It must be hard, loving me,” Bradley couldn’t help but air out some of the fears that plagued him sometimes when he was on his lonesome, with no one to distract him from his own head. To his surprise, an airy, light laughter fell from your lips as you smiled down at him

“Darling, loving you is as easy as breathing,” your voice was warm with tenderness “besides, I’ve heard that the hardest ones to love, are the ones who need it most,”

A long, ragged breath escaped from Bradley’s throat, some of the tears that had nestled in between his eyelashes slowly rolling down his scarred cheeks as he looked at you. The furrow of his brow was still there, and you reached out to softly let your thumb grace over the crease. He did feel like he needed love. He needed your love, and it scared him. Because if he needed you to feel good - what would he do when you weren’t there anymore?

“Can I show you all my love?” you whispered, eyes flitting fast over his face, as if you were drinking him in, afraid he might evaporate into thin air if you took your eyes off of him for too long. Bradley didn’t quite understand what you meant, so he just nodded.

and i feel that when i’m with you, it’s alright… i know it’s right

Your hands left their perch on top of his shoulders, slowly ghosting down his arms, softly playing with the hem of the bottom of his hoodie. The slight cold touch of your fingertips against his bare lower abdomen had him sucking in a small breath of air, but you just continued further up - fingertips grazing across his abs, the fabric of his shirt bunching on your forearms.

As your palms reached his pectorals, Bradley got the hint and reached his arms over his head to let you remove his clothing for him, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

Tender eyes gazed at his upper body, and Bradley’s brown eyes held an unreadable emotion within them as they took in the sight of you admiring him. Your smile sent butterflies to his stomach, and he had to take another deep breath to steady himself as your palms caressed the sides of his waist. Slowly, you slipped off of his lap, down to your knees below the sofa.

Bradley was surprised when all you did for a few moments was caressing and massaging his thighs, just settling in between his knees, looking up at him with those loving eyes.

“I’ll love all of you, Bradley,” you murmured, your lips ghosting over his left knee. A spot where he knew his skin was scuffed from the many times he had slid on it to reach a base during baseball practice years ago. It was rather faded, but still visible if you knew where to look. Obviously, you did know. Your ever moving hands had slid upwards, slipping underneath the fabric of his black boxer shorts, softly massaging his upper thighs.

A soft groan slipped past Bradley’s lips as his head tilted slightly backwards at your ministrations. All too soon, your hands disappeared to linger at the waistband of his underwear, inching them downwards. Bradley was all too happy to help you slide them off, and he raised his hips slightly to get them down his legs.

Bradley softly tucked his lower lip in between his teeth at the sight of you kneeling in front of him. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed about the fact that you already had him half hard. However, you didn’t seem to be on the type of mission Bradley had originally thought. You only kept your eyes on his, smiling softly as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

Instead, you leaned forward, letting your lips connect with his thighs, hands placed just above his knees. Your mouth ghosted over his hot skin, your breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. As your face neared his v-line, you let your lips land at the junction of his hip and thigh, and the sensation of the soft touch sent a shiver down Roosters spine along with the softest of pretty moans.

Your nose was tracing along the side of his hip, before you slowly inched your lips and tongue towards his lower abdomen. At the sensation of your tongue licking and softly sucking at the skin near his happy trail, Bradley let out a long, breathy moan - his cock twitching at the pleasurable touch.

“Does that feel good, Bradley?” you hummed softly against his skin, your upper body slotted between his thick thighs, your hands now steadying themselves on his waist, your forearms pressed close to his body as your nose and mouth pressed against the skin right by his navel.

“So good, baby… oh god,” Bradley moaned breathlessly.

The feeling of the muscles in his abdomen tightening and relaxing made a rush of heat flow like a steady, warm stream to your very core, and you bit your lip softly as you gazed up at your blissed out boyfriend. His large hands had rested on your shoulders, where his thumbs gently stroked over the exposed skin where his large t-shirt hung slightly off your shoulder.

“I love you,” you whispered against his skin, your lips sealing your words into the space where they had hit him below his ribs. Your hands soon covered his larger ones, gently guiding one of them so that your lips could press against his palm, and then his wrist, your other hand ghosting over his forearm - fingertips softly touching all of the little scars he’d got from the regular wear and tear of life. Signs of being alive.

You stroked a larger scruff, where you knew he’d gotten burnt once trying to help Mav with his jet, placing a gentle kiss to the mark before moving on to his bicep. Suddenly, the palm of your hand felt rather small as it stretched over his muscle, gripping slightly to feel the soft skin. Bradley was practically vibrating at the sensations you were giving him, his breaths becoming shallow and the occasional sharp intake of air could be heard through the silent cabin.

Lips pressed softly against the stretch marks that had accumulated where Bradley’s bicep met his chest, you hummed softly at the feeling of your body pressed up against his. His warmth seeped into your every pore as you loved him. Kissing his sternum softly, you looked up at him with a soft smile, and you were sad to see his amber eyes filled with an unreadable emotion swirling within them, tears sitting unshed on his lash line.

“Is it too much?” you murmured, concerned, gently cradling his right cheek in your hand. Bradley immediately leant into your touch, shaking his head. “I really like how it feels,” Bradley’s voice was gravelly as he confessed, filled with emotion. Your smile soothed him, and your heart clenched at his answer. Did he mean your touch? Or your unconditional love? Either way, it tugged at your heartstrings.

and i love you, i love you, i love you - like never before

Placing your hands on the top of his knees again, you slowly rose to straddle his lap once more, letting a soft moan slip from your lips as you felt him hard against you. Bradley’s soft release of air, his head tilting back to expose his neck and throat to you, did nothing to alleviate the burning heat in your abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured against Rooster's skin, lips pressed against his left shoulder, where another mark sat upon his skin. This one was larger, a little jagged, and you paid it as much attention as the other marks - giving it a soft kiss before moving up towards the junction of his neck and shoulder. There you ventured to softly let your tongue out to taste the warm skin, gently sucking the tan skin into your mouth momentarily, leaving the faintest of your own marks on his skin.

As you had left kisses up the side of his neck, you pulled back to look into his eyes - pupils slightly dilated and chest heaving slightly, you never thought Bradley had looked so breathtaking before.

“I love you.” the statement was final, and he would have to take that as it was - the truth. It looked as if something clicked into place in Bradley’s eyes, as your thumb stroked the long scar across his throat, sliding up to softly caress the marks on his chin, before playfully ghosting over his bottom lip. Breaking the eye contact with Bradley, you finally let your lips leave butterfly kisses all along the left side of his face, ending up with your forehead pressed against his, lips hovering above his.

“Thank you,” Bradley spoke softly. His large hand had snaked up to cradle the back of your head, the other one settled on your hip. Smiling, you pressed a slow kiss to his lips, wanting to taste him fully. His tongue skillfully met yours in a slow, sensual kiss that took the breath out of you entirely. The hand that had moved to stroke the back of your head had tangled into your hair, softly massaging and tugging as his tongue moved against yours - eliciting soft whimpers and moans from you.

His hands slowly reached beneath the large t-shirt that hung off of your frame, his large, warm hands caressing the cool skin that sat underneath, lingering on the spot just above your hips, gently kneading the skin there, before his hands moved further up. Thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts.

A soft whimper rolled from your lips at the sensation; even though you were determined that this venture was all about Bradley. So after only a few short moments of feeling his large hands massaging your tits slowly, and a few soft moans escaping from your lips, you softly push his hands away. Swiftly you removed yourself from your boyfriend's lap, sinking down onto your knees in between his thighs again.

“I’m not done loving you,” you smiled a little, and Bradley quirked a brow, a soft smile on his own lips to match yours. “Is that so?” he murmured, gently cupping your chin in his hand, squeezing slightly.

Licking your lips, you slowly sank down onto the balls of your heels, taking in the sight before you. Bradley was sat naked on the large, stretched out couch, head tilted slightly back as your hand wrapped around his now fully hard cock.

“So pretty,” you murmured softly, and Bradley huffed out a breathless laugh, almost embarrassed. Deciding to finish worshiping your boyfriends body as it had started, you pressed hungry kisses against his thighs, working your way upwards. This time, however, you decided to leave tiny little bite marks here and there - teeth sinking into the warm skin softly. Those actions rewarded you with sounds from your lover that had you clenching and almost whimpering with need.

Just before you were about to worship the last body part you had left, Bradley’s hand caressed your cheek lovingly, before moving to settle in your hair. The feeling of his strong hold against your scalp had you whimpering louder, and that familiar feeling of being completely safe engulfed you - as it often did when you were intimate with Bradley. He always took good care of you.

“There’s my good girl,” Bradley rumbled, his voice so deep and raspy you nearly lost yourself to his touch, legs clenching together to relieve the ache that had settled deep within you. His words had fire spreading through your core, up your midsection, settling deep in your chest - his words an anchor and a familiar safety that allowed you complete relaxation, complete surrender and serenity; the very thing you were trying to offer Bradley.

Finally, you pressed open mouthed kisses on the base of his length as it rested against his abdomen. Bradley let a long moan flow from his throat, and you could almost see some of the tension escape out of his body at your touch. Licking up the length of his hardness, you felt all the silky ridges and veins underneath your tongue and hands.

Wrapping your lips around his hardened dick, you slowly took him deeper and deeper into your mouth, tongue swirling softly against the silky skin, letting your tongue explore all the veins and ridges in full. Bradley’s stuttered moan made you hollow your cheeks slightly, sucking him further into your warm, wet mouth. The hold on your hair tightened ever so slightly, and you could feel that Bradley was trying hard not to buck up into your mouth, his hips jolting ever so slightly.

You could almost feel yourself losing yourself in him, as you so often did. That small sliver of resilience almost slipping from you, as you heard his pleasure, felt him throb in your mouth. A small whimper started in your throat, and your eyelids fluttered close to not make it too obvious that your eyes were starting to water and almost roll back from the soothing feeling of having him in your mouth, having him love you and hearing his soft moans envelop you like a blanket.

Licking up his length, you nuzzled for a moment where his thigh met his hips to catch your breath, placing a fluttering kiss to the sensitive skin. Trying so bad to not slip, because this isn’t about you, this is about your love for Bradley - showing him how much he means to you. Yet, Bradley seems to notice - can tell so instinctively what you need, and what he needs too.

Soft, warm hands pull you upwards, close to his chest before he settles you on his lap again, straddling one of his thighs momentarily.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, the bristles of his mustache lightly scratching where his lips explored. His hands grace down your arms before they squeeze your waist lovingly, gliding up to softly cup your breasts over the fabric of his worn and soft t-shirt.

A sigh tumbled from your parted lips, and Bradley’s right there, humming softly in encouragement. His hands slowly glide down your waist, to your hips, where he for just a moment guides them to rut slowly against his muscular thigh, drawing a strangled gasp from your parted lips.

“You love me so, so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs as his hands move slowly upwards again, massaging your sensitive breasts, drawing soft mewls and whimpers from you - his fingers occasionally brushing your hardening nipples.

“My pretty baby,” he smiles, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose to gain better access to the skin below your ear, his lips softly latching on to lick and kiss at your pulse point.

Your needy whine was met by a pleased groan that rumbled from deep within Bradley’s chest, and his naked body pressed hard into yours at the sound, the hot breath that fanned over your neck again making it so hard not to melt into his touch.

“Bradley–” you sighed in protest, wanting to try to hold on to the small semblance of control you had had on the situation just moments ago. But Bradley only made soft shushing noises, covering your lips with his as his tongue slid over your bottom lip before gently taking it between his teeth. After drawing yet another breathy whimper from you, Rooster let go of your bottom lip to whisper softly in your ear

“You take such great care of me, honey… will you let me care for you?”

His teeth gently graces your earlobe, before his lips kiss softly just behind it. In that moment it almost feels like everything falls away except for Bradley. The snow whirling outside the windows doesn’t exist anymore. The crackling fire dancing over the logs in the fireplace are all at once running through your body like liquid water, not actually in the fireplace at all. Though Bradley’s touch resembles the soothing of the cold snow outside that satiates the burn. His hands have snuck underneath your shirt, lifting it above your head and discarding it on the wooden floors.

His lips latch on to your nipples, tongue swirling slowly in circles over the lacy fabric of your thin bra. Head tilted back in pleasure, his name is heard like a prayer to the heavens as it tumbles from your lips.

His large palm is softly grasping your breast, kneading it gently as his mouth works kisses and licks onto the swell of it. His other hand reaches back to unlatch the clasp, gently helping you drag it down your arms, until it joins your forgotten shirt on the floor.

“It’s my turn now,” Bradley hums, the small, but genuinely happy smile on his face making tears burn behind your eyelids. Strong hands lifts you from your spot on his thigh, gently laying you down on the soft plaid that was placed on the seat of the couch. Slowly he lowers himself down your body, his nose teasingly fluttering against your skin, his lips sporadically leading the way.

Soon enough he’s leaning between your thighs, a tight grasp on your calf as he raises it to rest on his well muscled shoulder. There he places a soft kiss, his fingers gracing the outside of your calf, his lips kissing a trail to your knee, where a jagged scar marres your skin from where it had been mended years earlier.

Like you, he gives it a soft kiss of adoration before he continues his journey - stopping to love on the slightly pink and purple toned stretch marks on your thighs. Your breath is unsteady, and you almost feel as if you’re floating - the sensations Bradley is providing the only thing that’s keeping you from slipping.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay… I’ve got you, love,” Bradley murmurs as he settles, his chest resting in between your spread legs, your thighs slung over his broad shoulders as your whines and whimpers of pleas get all the more frantic. Bradley’s hot breath hitting your clothed core has you licking your lips in anticipation, breath stuttering pitifully in your throat. He hasn’t even touched you yet.

“So pretty… is it all for me, honey?” Rooster rumbles, amber eyes so filled with lust and love, connecting with yours; taking in the pout on your face, the neediness of your eyes, the heaving of your chest and your soft whimper as you nod fervently at his question. He groans, the sight enough to have him rutting his hard cock once into the cushions of the sofa.

“Please, Roos– baby, I need you,” your soft plea has Bradley choking on a breath before he presses his lips hard against your lace clad core, tongue darting out to tease the wetness beneath it. “Anything my baby needs,” he mumbles, as he pushes the delicate fabric aside, sinking his long finger into your wet core. A sigh of relief, followed by a small moan rolls from your lips.

“Good girl,” Bradley hums, his lips softly slotting over your clit as his finger pump slowly in and out of you. He’s sucking and licking at you, swirling his tongue with just the right amount of pressure to have you moaning and gasping. Retracting his finger, his large palms massage the outside of your thighs as he buries his face further into your slick cunt, his tongue slowly sliding downwards to tease at your hole, the tip just slightly slipping in and out and around making you grasp Bradley’s locks hard, giving an involuntary jerk of your wrist at the slow waves of pleasure rolling through you.

Suddenly Roosters’ tongue slips in and he’s properly fucking you with his tongue, his stubbled chin brushing against the delicate skin around your core, and his nose and mustache brushing and teasing your clit.

The pleasure that’s building in your core threatens to snap, the heat from the crackling fire seeming to have moved to your insides - embers sparking in your veins as every sensation but the feeling of Rooster fades away. Squeezing your eyes shut, you gently push Bradley’s head away from your weeping core, a soft whine leaving your lips as you do so. Bradley just mouths hungrily at the inside of your thighs for a few moments, before he’s caught his breath and continues his exploration of your body that’s laid bare for him.

Bradley’s hands leave the comfortable spot they’ve had, massaging your soft thighs to continue their exploration. Fingertips ghost over chilled skin, softly tracing patterns into your hips before his palm splays across your lower stomach momentarily.

Mustache and lips pressing gentle kisses that spread warmth wherever they caress. Bradleys lips works against your skin, finding freckles, spots and small marks wherever he can - loving them just as easily as you had his. As his hands found a new resting place, holding tight to your waist, his lips once again lavished over your breasts.

Soft mewls left you as Roosters lips closed around your nipple, his tongue working slowly across it before he suckled lightly, pulling the soft flesh into his mouth over and over again. Gasps and needy moans tore from your chest as your body started to squirm, thighs clenching together to alleviate the flaming desire Bradley had awoken in your body.

Rooster seemed oblivious to it though, moaning against your chest as his palm massaged the base of the breast he currently had sucked into his mouth, his breath becoming shallow as he heard your soft noises and felt the supple skin against his hot tongue.

“Baby,” your broken, needy whine pulled Bradley away from your chest, and at your small whimper of “need you” paired with the slightest pout to your lush lips, had a fire exploding within his chest. He needed to make sure you got what you needed. He had to take care of you, keep you safe, keep you warm, keep you close.

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t you worry, I’ve got you - daddy’s got you,” he murmured against your ear, placing soft, soothing kisses to your cheek, where a stray tear had escaped from your lust filled eyes. At his words, you couldn’t hold on any longer. That tiny fraction of control you held for a moment slipped away and a soft sob shook your chest as you moaned

“Please, daddy,” you weren’t sure what you were pleading for, but desperation ran through your veins, and it seemed as if you could no longer control the soft sniffles and whimpers that heaved through your chest. Bradley’s soft touches, his soothing words touching your skin grounded you slightly, the feel of his fingers entangling with your hair, tugging softly - reminding you that he was there, that you were there.

“Daddy’s here, baby. Relax, sweetheart… I’ll take such good care of you, I always take good care of you, hm?” Rooster murmured lovingly, his lips softly caressing yours, his other palm smoothing your hair away from your face as he looked down at you. Nodding your head, you reached for him, pulling him down so his weight rested on top of you. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, you placed several kisses against the scar on his throat.

Bradley shuddered slightly at the sensation, before his arms wound around your back as he angled his body and turned - so that he was on his back and you were lying on his broad chest. One of his hands slowly reached down, splaying across your thigh - helping you straddle his abs.

“Pretty, pretty baby,” he cooed as you sat up completely, looking down at him bashfully as you sat with your bare pussy pressed against his hard abs. Bradley’s hands settled on top of your thighs, gently rubbing small circles into them - making your core move slightly against his chiseled stomach. Tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you let your head roll back a little at the new sensation.

“That feels good huh, honey?” Rooster rasped, the sight of his girl on top of him, softly rocking against his abs for her own pleasure enough for him to let a rough groan slip, fingers tightening on her thighs to help her ride his midsection better.

“Yes, daddy… so good,” the sentence was punctured by a long, erotic moan. Bradley’s hard cock was already leaking from the pleasure of seeing her so blissed out for him, so lost in the pleasure and safety he had been able to provide her through his touch. Waves of pride swelled deep within his chest, and he had to take a deep breath as he pressed your core closer to his abdomen, hearing your soft whines as your clit caught the friction of the ridges his muscles provided.

“Good girl… my good girl,” Bradley rasped breathlessly, easing his hold on your hips slightly, only to wrap his forearm under the swell of your ass - lifting you up slightly. Your hand swiftly reached down, and Bradley moaned low in his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around the silky hardness that pressed against your ass.

“Bradley,” you moaned softly as you teased your folds with the thick tip of Bradley’s cock, the slick of your arousal coating the swollen, red tip. Rooster’s breath stuttered in his throat as his hands massaged the globes of your ass slowly, groaning as he felt you enclose him more when he pushed your cheeks a certain way.

Throwing his head back, he wondered briefly if this was how heaven felt like. You looked angelic enough, sat on top of him, beautiful face filled with the pleasure he was giving you, lips slightly parted and brows furrowed as you panted slightly at the feeling of his cock teasing your entrance and clit.

He let you take your time, grinding yourself on his cock, enjoying your soft whimpers as he slipped further and further into your wet heat. Rooster only rutted his hips slightly each time you sank down, and soon you were whimpering and moaning incoherently, the stretch of his thick cock enough to make you delirious. Bradley sat up slightly to caress your cheek, making soft shushing noises to soothe you as you sat still, him bottomed out so deep in you, feeling your sweet cunt squeezing his cock again and again as you tried to adjust to him.

“Daddy!” your soft sob, paired with your quick breaths had his brows furrowing slightly, his one hand softly finding its place around your throat, not squeezing but merely there as a reminder “Sweetheart…” he murmured, “Look at me,” dilated irises found his and he licked his lips softly “Are we okay? Do you need a break?” he softly let his thumb stroke your cheek, and you nuzzled into his palm whilst shaking your head.

“Do you promise daddy?” he asked again, gauging your reaction as you nodded “Words, baby,” he reminded you. “I’m okay,” you whispered “You just feel so good… you’re so good to me,” your voice was breathless but coherent, and Bradley smiled softly up at you, his dark blonde locks making him look rather angelic as he rested against the sofa cushions.

“Take your time, my beautiful honey,” he reassured you, letting his hands glide down your spine, allowing you support should you need it. However, your hands splayed across his abdomen, spread where your arousal was still sticking to his skin.

Bradley again felt you flutter around him, and your soft exhale reassured him. Slowly he felt you grinding your hips slowly against him, not letting his cock leave your warm heat, only grinding it deep into your core. The feeling was overwhelming, and Bradley couldn’t help but pressing his head further back into the cushions, letting soft moans fall from his parted lips as he took in the sight of you riding him.

Bradley slowly started to meet your hips, thrusting ever so slightly against you, his cock barely leaving you before it pressed home again. With one hand resting on your lower back,

Rooster groaned as his other palmed softly at your breast. You keened at his touch, and you tipped over, letting your chest rest against his as you fell on top of him, kissing at his sternum. Bradley wasted no time in tangling his fingers into your hair, holding a steady grip on your hair as you whined happily. He slowly fucked into you, listening intently to every gasp and moan that he drew out of your mouth.

“It feels so good when you fuck me like this, daddy,” you moaned softly in his ear “so deep… so slow oh, god– Bradley,” his name was dragged out as he slowly drew almost all of his length out out of your weeping cunt before ever so slowly letting himself sink deliciously deep into you, the tip of his cock softly brushing against your cervix.

“You’re taking me so good… such a good girl for your daddy,” Rooster murmured, gasps drawn from his parted lips as he ground his cock deeper into you, alternating between thrusting, rutting and withdrawing his cock almost all the way only to sink slowly in again. The sensation was delicious, almost too much so.

Bradley and you had tried a lot of things in bed, you knew each other so instinctively that playing with one another was as easy as breathing - but never had he ever felt so overwhelmed with pleasure as he fucked you slow and steady. Bradley would never have thought that it could be so sensual, so needy, so wonderful. Didn’t think he’d feel his release building up like a slow ember within him, thought he needed it faster or harder - but no. All he needed was you, however you gave yourself to him.

Nuzzling his face into your neck, he dared one hard, sharp thrust before stilling buried so deep in your heat. You whimpered, babbling softly in his ear as his fingers tugged gently at your hair, earning him a drawn out ‘daddy’, so vulnerable, so reliant on him, so trusting of him.

“I love you so much, my pretty baby,” Rooster moaned, one hand resting on your ass to help you meet his sharper, short thrusts deep into you.

“Love you daddy, oh– I’m- I’m so close, daddy” you sobbed, tears leaking from your eyes as you kissed at his pectorals, your tongue swiping over his nipple, teeth sinking into his skin to ground yourself somewhat.

“Fuck baby, me too. Be a good girl for daddy and cum for me? Yeah?” he panted, not speeding up his thrust, but keeping up the agonizing pace he’d set. “Oh,” you gasped as he ground against a spot deep inside your aching core “Please, more, daddy!” you whined, soft moans and whimpers coming closer and closer, your cunt hugging his cock so well as he brushed that spot again and again. He could feel how needy you were, how badly you needed to come undone, so with a soft yank of your hair, Bradley growled out

“Cum for daddy.” it was a demand, he wanted it now. And you, like the good, good girl you were, obeyed his every word, your body reacting so well to his as he drew out his cock and gave a deep thrust that had the rubber band inside your belly snapping, your pleasured cries ringing out in the cabin, your hands grasping his biceps hard as you cried, sniffled and chanted ‘daddy’ over and over again as Bradley fucked himself into you to chase his own high.

“So pretty falling apart all over daddy’s cock,” he rasped as your lips feverishly kissed and nipped at his neck, incoherent sentences moaned against his warm skin “love being your good girl daddy, oh,” moaning as Bradley dared thrust a little faster, breath hitching in your throat as he worked you towards your second orgasm “Daddy, oh— daddy, please, please cum in me! Please fill me, I need you, please,” you babbled, soft whimpers and pouts driving Bradley absolutely insane as you fucked yourself onto his cock, you could feel his cock pulsing in you.

“Fuck, sweet girl, I’m going to cum so hard, gonna fill your pretty cunt with all of me. Gonna fuck a baby into your sweet belly, honey, gonna make you mine,” Bradley growled, and he didn’t know where all of this was coming from, but as he saw your eyes roll back and your body shudder from pleasure at his words his hips stuttered, once, twice, before a deep, long moan tumbled from his lips as he felt himself spurt hot ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

Bradley had never had an orgasm as intense as this one, rutting his hips again and again against your wet core as he kept spilling himself into you.

As he came down from his high, feeling his heart beat wildly in his chest as he panted, he felt your form resting on his chest. He swiftly brushed hair from your face, angling himself so he could look at you, make sure you were okay.

You were still spasming slightly, soft whimpers intermingled with needy cries for ‘daddy’ making him cradle you closer to his chest as his cock softened in you. The feeling of Bradley’s hot seed slowly running out of you had you whimpering again, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“There’s my good girl, so good… you did so well, baby. My good girl,” Rooster hummed, holding you close to his chest as he pressed kisses to your hair and your forehead.

“Are you okay, sweets?” Bradley asked after he heard your breathing even out, and you nodded mutely against his chest, still biting softly at his skin. “Come, pretty baby, should we clean up and maybe get in the bath? Get some yummy drinks and some snacks? How does that sound?” he hummed, looking down into your wide blown eyes.

“Sounds so good, daddy,” you mumbled as Rooster rubbed your arms softly. When he slipped out of you, you made a small noise of discontent, and he knew that you wouldn’t react good to him leaving you right now. Therefore, he gently lifted you into his arms, feeling your arousal mixed with his slowly trickling down his hip as he held you with one arm, grabbing some drinks and snacks with the other before moving to the big bathroom.

Sitting down the food, he swiftly worked on getting the water temperature just right for the two of you, before he gently cleaned you, peppering kisses over you face as he worked, smiling at you and telling you how much he loved you.

At last, as the tub was filled with warm water and bubbles, he gently eased himself into the tub before helping you sit in between his legs - your back resting comfortably against his chest as his arms wound tight around you. Your head was rested on his shoulder, face turned towards his as you smiled. “I love you, so much, Bradley.” you spoke softly, kissing his jaw.

“And I you, baby. Thank you for loving me so well,” he murmured, letting a loving kiss linger against your lips.

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #my writing #smut

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starsofang · 7 days

Note

Hi there. I wanted to make a request for something a bit personal. All this week, my family has been criticizing my weight (which I have struggled with my whole life) and told me point-blank that no one would ever love me because of it. That being said, I would like to request a writing with Soap. Let's say the reader has been avoiding sex with him for a while. They'll kiss and stuff, but as soon as he starts pulling her shirt up, she pulls it back down and makes some sort of excuse. This goes on for a while until Soap confronts her about it. She basically then goes off, pointing out all her bodily flaws and how fat and hideous she thinks she is and asks him how he could ever think she was sexy. And all he says is, “How can I NOT?” And he makes love to her and every time she makes a complaint about her body or calls herself ugly, she shushes her, ultimately taking her in front of a mirror and making her look at herself and how sexy she looks taking him. And when they're done, Soap should talk about how she's not fat, she's cute and squishy.

i just want you to know that you’re not defined by your weight, and you will absolutely find somebody who will love you no matter your appearance <3 i’m a big girl dating a fit man and he treats me wonderfully, despite many people bullying me for my weight and thinking he’s silly for dating a big girl. you will 100% find somebody like that who will love you for you, and your family is wrong about that <3 i’m sending you all my love anon!!!

i hope this is to your liking!!

tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief angst with fluffy smut :3

Johnny was the love of your life. There wasn’t a doubt about it in your mind that he was the one you’d spend the rest of your days with, growing old together, showered in each other’s unconditional love.

Lately, though, you were wondering if you were the love of his.

The reflection in the mirror every time you snuck a glance whispered nasty things to you. Hurtful and cruel, dousing you in doubtful insecurity, all geared towards the way you looked. It pointed out all of your soft rolls, the pudge of your stomach, the cellulite on your thighs.

Every time you came face to face with your reflection, it was a constant thought that plagued your mind of why Johnny wanted to be with somebody like you. Why he chose you.

Blinded by your own criticism, it began to take a toll on your relationship.

It started off small, like gently pushing him away with a forced laugh every time he’d come up behind you and rest his hands on your hips, kneading the flesh. Or, when he’d lay in bed at night with you, arm slung over your stomach, seeking out your touch in order to fall asleep, you’d roll to face away from him, fearful of Johnny feeling the softness of your body.

It was a bigger issue when sex became less frequent — not that Johnny minded if you weren’t in the mood. He respected you. But Johnny knew you far more than you thought he did, and he could see the tell-tale signs of you distancing yourself.

He noticed the way you shied away from him, brushing his hands off like you were scorched from his touch. Hiding away in oversized clothing, concealing any sliver of your body.

At first, Johnny didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how to approach it, and he didn’t want to assume anything was wrong. Maybe you were having an off time!

It wasn’t until tonight, where he had you gracefully laid out in your bed, that he knew something was truly wrong.

The rough pads of his fingers slowly slid down to the hem of your shirt while his lips remained occupied against yours, carefully slipping the fabric up across your stomach. Almost instantly, your body tensed up, your own hands grasping hold of the end of your shirt to roughly tug it down, successfully covering yourself back up.

Johnny paused, pulling away from your kiss to peer down at you with a worried furrow in his brow.

“Bonnie,” he frowned. “What’s all this about?”

You busied your lip between your teeth, turning your head away in order to avoid seeing the ache in his eyes. You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to confirm your insecurities by telling you he saw what you saw in the mirror.

“Talk t’me,” he encouraged, gently guiding your head to look at him, thumb stroking along your cheek.

“I just—“ You sucked in a breath, before everything came spilling out at once. “I don’t want you to see me. I know I’m chubby, I know I’m not small. I don’t understand what you see in me.”

“Bonnie—“

“I don’t see why you love me when I look like this,” you finished, cutting him off. By the time you finished rambling, you had to catch your breath. A frown settled on your lips, and the sight of it caused Johnny to ache.

“How could I not?” Johnny breathed, voice so tender yet serious. He stared down at you, eyes flickering over your face, wanting so badly to smooth away the downward pull on your lips and furrow in your own eyebrows.

You said nothing, darting your eyes away to look at the ceiling instead of him.

“I love everythin’ about ye,” he continued, leaning down to press a subtle kiss to your cheek, moving down to your jaw, then your neck. “And I certainly love yer body. Do I have t’show ye myself?”

You finally glanced back to meet his gaze. He had a smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes, one only reserved for you.

“C’mon,” he urged, pulling himself off of you and guiding you to sit up.

Once the two of you were standing, he quietly asked for permission to undress you. He noticed your hesitance so he waited patiently for you to answer, but once you told him yes, he happily obliged.

Johnny worked slowly to peel off every layer of your clothing until they were a heap on the floor at your feet. He took in the sight of you bare, smiling bashfully at the vision, burning it into memory.

He made quick work to undress himself to match your nudity, before sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging you to sit on his lap with your back pressed to his chest. His skin was warm against yours, but his hands were like a burning fire when he slipped them down your sides and to your thighs.

“I want ye t’look in the mirror, bonnie,” he said, nodding his head to the floor length mirror that sat perched up against the wall. When you looked into it, you had a perfect view of yourself in his lap. “How could I not love that?”

You squirmed awkwardly, unable to see what he was seeing. That little voice in the back of your mind still had control, and Johnny could tell. He was determined to rid yourself of it once and for all.

Despite wanting to resist, you continued looking in the mirror, taking in the sight of you on his lap, your thighs resting snugly over his own. Your eyes followed the way his hand slid from your thigh, going up and up until it reached between, lightly dragging through your cunt. His fingers shined almost instantly from your slick, and he took pleasure in coating himself in it further.

A shaky breath left your lips, warmth of arousal pooling in your abdomen. You’d never been able to see him touch you before, but now you have a full view of it. His fingers began circling your clit, while his free arm wrapped around your stomach, keeping you pressed up against him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured next to your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched with you.

Johnny began indulging himself in the wetness of your cunt, unable to look away from the sight of his fingers sliding between your clit and your hole. He always thought you were stunning, but seeing you like this was heavenly.

Two fingers slipped into you, and your mouth parted, throat catching on to a surprised gasp. He grinned at you in the reflection, taking in the way you wiggled at the intrusion.

“Look at ye,” he hummed, fucking into you at a gentle pace with his fingers. “Bloody gorgeous.”

Your gasps turned into whines, eyes glossing over with a clouded need. You watched hazily as his fingers slipped in and out of you, and for a brief moment, you agreed with him. The sight of you falling apart from his fingers was new, almost thrilling.

As much as Johnny wanted to see you come from just his hand, he needed you to see yourself in the way he saw you. Slipping his fingers out earned a whine of protest from you, but he quickly shushed you by lifting you off of his lap so he could line his hardened cock up to your sopping hole, sinking you down on it.

“Fuckin’ look at ye, bonnie,” he sighed, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, indenting into your softness. He guided you up, slowly dragging his cock along your gummy walls, before pulling you back down, your ass flush against his lap. “Ye look fuckin’ sexy like this. My pretty girl.”

Seeing the way your cunt greedily clenched around his cock, glistening prettily in the reflection of the mirror, you felt surprisingly attractive. The voice in your head was quieting down, instead being replaced with Johnny’s loving praises as he took you.

Your stomach and thighs jiggled with every bounce he made from his hands on your hips, but the look in his eyes was undoubtedly burning with intense desire, clouded over with admiration. You could see how enthralled he was from the sight of you and how much it turned him on.

“This is all mine,” he groaned, squeezing your hips before bringing one hand around to grab hold of your stomach. He did it in such a loving way that you no longer felt insecure, you no longer had the urge to push him away so you could hide your body from him.

Johnny was proving just how beautiful he thought you were while simultaneously making you see it for yourself. He wanted you to feel good about yourself, and it was working.

When he saw the doubtful look in your eyes dissipate into a more confident one, he picked up the pace, eager to bounce you on his cock and make a mess of you. He was determined to make you feel so good that you wouldn’t even remember why you were insecure in the first place.

“So fuckin’ good t’me, don’t even know how I got ye,” he grunted. The words showered you with warmth, filling you up and teetering you near the edge. “I’m a lucky bastard.”

You could feel the build up grow more intense, your moans uncontrollably slipping out. He continued to praise you, engulf you in his compliments, dripping with nothing but love and want.

It sent you over that edge, clenching around him and your breath getting caught in your throat. Just from that sight alone, reflecting back at Johnny from the mirror, he didn’t fall too far behind you, filling you with proof of his undying love and claiming you as his.

From the look of fucked out bliss on your face, he was sure he got the message through.

Cleaning you up and lying you on top him, he basked in the post clarity, hands massaging along your hips.

“I wish ye would’ve told me sooner, bonnie,” he murmured softly, lips pressed against the top of your head that rested on his bare chest. “There’s nothin’ wrong with yer body. I like it this way. Can squish it whenever I want.”

You laughed against him, propping your chin up so you could look at him. His eyes were soft combined with the goofy smile on his face. He looked like a man head over heels, and it was with you.

“If ye need a reminder again, I’ll be glad t’fuck you in front of the mirror as many times as ye need. Or ye can sit on my face so I can worship ye.”

“I might suffocate you if I do that,” you snorted in amusement.

“That’s the point, bonnie. Do I have t’show ye again that I don’t care? Suffocate me.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling a bright laugh from him. He tugged you closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to your head. He’d happily show you as many times as you needed, no matter how many hours it took. He’d die a happy man if it meant getting to see and feel your softness everyday.

#angie's requests #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #cod requests

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cera-writes · 23 days

Text

"Ma chère, you are mine." 🃏part Four

"Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light" - Oscar Wilde

[: Please, Just Breathe - Written By Wolves]

The sterile scent of disinfectant did little to mask the tremor in Gambit's hands. He traced a finger along the cool metal railing of your bed, his reflection distorted in the chrome. Days had bled into nights, a monotonous vigil punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping you tethered to this world. You were lying motionless on a bed back at the X-Mansion.

Literal weeks had passed since the massacre of Genosha. The X-men had brought your body back, wondering whether just to bury what was left of you or wait for some sort of miracle.

"Hey there, ma chere," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the cool sheets. "Been a rough couple of weeks, that's for sure. Feels like the world decided to take a nosedive after you were savin' our collective butts."

A wry smile tugged at his lips, but it never reached his eyes. The memory of your sacrifice, of the raw power you wielded, sent a shiver down his spine. You were still here, thank heavens, but how much of you remained?

"Was I ever good enough for you, Eclipse?" the question tumbled out, a ragged whisper. "Did I ever truly measure up to the expectations of the woman who could snuff out the damn sun?"

He knew it was a stupid question. He loved you, fierce and unconditional, but the doubt gnawed at him nonetheless. Had he been just another adventure in the grand tapestry of your extraordinary life?

Taking a deep breath, he launched into a slow recount. "Genosha, chere... man, it was bad. A slaughterhouse. Rogue's beside herself, grief eatin' her alive. Went tearin' after answers, found nothin' but dead ends."

The weight of his unspoken words hung heavy in the air. A tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down his temple, landing with a soft plop on the back of your hand. The silence in the room was deafening, only replaced by the sound of the monitor as it beat to the slow, faint rhythmic pulse of your heart.

"Oh, darlin'," he rasped, his voice thick as he wiped at his tears. "Professor says you're stuck between worlds, a flicker of a flame in a hurricane."

A muscle in his jaw clenched. The diagnosis, delivered by a surprisingly alive Charles Xavier, was a gut punch. You, the woman who could snuff out the damn sun, were a wisp, a fading ember.

"Said it would take someone reachin' in, pullin' you back from the brink," Gambit continued, his voice tight. He knew what that meant. Someone had to wade into the void, navigate the chaotic remnants of your near-death experience, and somehow coax you back to the land of the living.

A wry smile, tinged with desperation, tugged at the corner of his lips. "Looks like it's time to try an' bring you back, wouldn't you say, ma chere?"

He knew the risks. The void could be a treacherous landscape, a swirling vortex of emotions and memories. But the thought of facing life without you was a desolate wasteland he couldn't bear to contemplate.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Professor X, ever-stoic despite the ordeal with the Shi'ar, sat by the window, his gaze fixed on the storm raging outside, mirroring the turmoil within.

"Professor," Gambit called out, his voice laced with a mixture of defiance and hope. "Any chance that fancy head of yours can cook up a way to get me there? Looks like I got a rescue mission on my hands."

Charles turned, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that only someone who had stared into the abyss himself could possess. A flicker of something akin to approval crossed his features.

"Gambit," he said, his voice raspy but firm, "you've always had a knack for the impossible. Perhaps this is just another challenge in your colorful repertoire."

"I think I'm done waitin' for any possibilty of her coming back from the dead, I gotta reach into her mind now, pull her back. No more waitin' around."

"You know the risks Gambit. And you're certain this is what you want to do?"

"Plus sûr que je ne l'ai jamais été," Remy nodded, placing his hand over your cold, unmoving one.

"Okay," Professor X nodded once, joining you at your bedside. "I'll have to link the two of you telepathically. It's a dangerous gamble but worth a fighting chance. There's also a chance you could be pulled into the darkness with her. But the bond between you should give you good luck in our efforts of bringing Eclipse back."

A surge of relief washed over Gambit, a lifeline thrown across the churning waters. He wouldn't be going in alone. With Xavier's help, he might just have a fighting chance of dragging you back from the brink.

"The odds always be in my favor, Professor." He smirked, a determined glint hardened his gaze.

He wouldn't let the darkness win. He wouldn't let you go. You'd been gone for far too long; longer than he'd had the patience of waiting for. He'd delve into the void, face whatever demons lurked within, and bring his sunshine back home.

Professor X cleared his mind, prompting Gambit to do the same. He pressed two fingers on each side of his temple and began the process of linking all three of your minds together in a psionic surge.

The world dissolved into a swirling vortex of colors, a chaotic kaleidoscope of emotions and memories. Gone was the sterile white room, replaced by a churning expanse of fragmented realities. Gambit plunged headfirst, the familiar tug of Professor Xavier's mental tether his only anchor in this tempestuous sea.

He fought against the relentless assault of disjointed images – flashes of the Genosha battle, the blinding brilliance of your eclipse power, the chilling emptiness of your still form. Each fragment ripped at him, threatening to pull him under in this maelstrom of your subconscious.

Then, he saw it. A lone figure, shrouded in shadow, standing on a precipice overlooking a vast emptiness. You. But this wasn't the Eclipse he knew. This figure seemed lost, a hollow shell consumed by an inky darkness that pulsed around her like a malevolent aura.

"Eclipse?" Gambit called out, his voice a threadbare whisper against the roaring storm.

The figure turned, her head a swirling mass of darkness where her face should have been. Tendrils of inky energy lashed out, coiling around his mental form, a chilling touch that sent shivers down his spine.

Fear gnawed at him, but the memory of your smile, the warmth of your hand in his, fueled his resolve. He wouldn't let the darkness win.

"Don't you give up on us, cher," he roared, channeling his Cajun charm into a psychic shout that echoed through the void. "We need you, the X-Men need you. Hell, the whole damn world needs you."

His words seemed to pierce the veil of darkness surrounding the figure. A flicker of recognition sparked in the empty void where her eyes should have been. A whisper, faint as a dying ember, reached his mind.

"Remy?"

Hope surged through him, a beacon in the storm. He pushed forward, his own memories forming a bridge across the void. He conjured moments of shared laughter, missions where the two of them had to work together to see it through, their own kind of connection that he didn't have with anyone else. Images flashed before the shadowed figure – the comfort after heartbreak, the playful banter during training sessions, the laying of her head on his shoulder the night before she died in his arms.

Slowly, the darkness began to recede. The inky tendrils loosened their grip, revealing fragments of your true self beneath. A tear, a single luminous droplet, trickled down the shadowy visage.

"I... I can't control it," your voice, weak and trembling, echoed in his mind. "The darkness... it's a part of me now."

"Maybe," Gambit conceded, his voice firm yet gentle. "But you're still Eclipse, chere. The woman who fights for what's right, the woman who lights up the darkest corners. You're stronger than you think."

He stretched out a mental hand, a beacon of warmth and love. The figure hesitated, then hesitantly reached back, her touch tinged with fear and uncertainty.

It wasn't enough. You were still adrift, tethered to the void by a threadbare connection.

"Professor?" Gambit called out, a desperate plea in his mind.

A wave of mental energy surged through the connection, bolstering the bridge they had built. It was a risky maneuver, Professor Xavier pushing his telepathic abilities to their very limit.

Together, they pulled. They coaxed. They pleaded with every fiber of their beings.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the figure began to respond. The darkness receded further, revealing glimpses of your true form. A single tear, shimmering with a familiar light, traced a path down your cheek.

Then, with a final desperate tug, they pulled you free. The world dissolved back into the sterile white room, the sterile scent of disinfectant stinging his nostrils.

You gasped, a rattling sound that filled the room with a melody sweeter than any song. Your eyes fluttered open, a spark of life rekindled within their depths.

"Remy?" your voice, weak but hopeful, echoed in the room.

A choked sob escaped his lips, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. He wasn't alone. You were back. And together, you would face the darkness, both within and without.

"You're back! She's back!" Remy couldn't stop grinning and shaking with tears, pulling you into a deep embrace as his arms held onto you so tightly that he was scared if he let go, you'd leave him again.

"Oh cher, don't you ever scare Gambit like dat again!" He shook with sobs as he nestled his face into your hair. You held him back, tears cascading down your cheeks.

"I-I thought I was dead," you choked, voice merely a whisper. "I did too, cher. We all did. Rogue went to out tryin' to get revenge for you." Remy stroked your hair, no sign of breaking your shared embrace.

You took in the scent of him, tobacco and sandalwood with a hint of spice you'd always found comfort in whenever he was around. That scent that you'd loved and missed so, so dearly.

"Remy..." you cried, just letting your emotions tumble out of you. You were alive, and he had brought you back. Your Remy.

"Shh, shh, it's gon' be okay chere. You're okay," he soothed. You sighed into his touch, his presence alone bringing you back to life with every comforting word and soothing touch.

Something else caught your attention for a split second as you glanced over. You'd notice that chair anywhere. It was Professor Xavier, who was still very much alive and well. A small smile graced your lips.

"Professor?" your voice raspy, barely a whisper.

Xavier offered a reassuring smile. "Yes, Eclipse. You're back." He turned to Gambit, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. "I believe you two require some time to reacquaint yourselves. I'll inform the others."

With a nod, he exited the room, leaving you and Gambit alone in the sterile silence. Relief finally battled with exhaustion, your eyelids heavy as you tried to focus on the man before you as you pulled away to finally get a good look at him, that face you missed so dearly.

"What... what happened?" your voice trembled as you tried to piece together the fragmented memories swirling in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, Gambit launched into a slow, heartfelt recount. He spoke of Genosha, the devastating attack, and Rogue's consuming grief. He touched upon Emma's unexpected transformation and the lingering uncertainty surrounding Magneto's fate. But most importantly, he spoke of the chilling revelation – the existence of a new enemy, a shadowy figure known as Bastion.

As he spoke, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. You closed your eyes, the weight of the world settling on your weary shoulders.

Sensing your fatigue, Gambit stopped his narrative, gently squeezing your hand. "Don't you worry about the rest, chere. You take all the time you need to get your strength back. We'll handle things here."

A weak smile graced your lips. "Thank you, Remy," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "For everything."

He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours. "Don't even think about thank you's, chere. Just get yourself healthy. We've got a whole world of trouble waitin' for us, and it ain't gonna fight itself."

A tired chuckle escaped your lips. You knew he was right. The fight was far from over, but for now, all that mattered was the warmth of his hand in yours, the steady beat of his heart a counterpoint to your own. With him by your side, you could face anything, even the darkness that still lingered within.

"There'll be time to talk later," you rasped, your eyelids fluttering closed once more. "Just... stay with me, Remy. Please?"

He didn't hesitate. Pulling a chair closer to your bedside, he settled in, running his fingers through your soft hair. In the quiet of the sterile room, he kept vigil, a silent promise etched on his face. You were back, and he wouldn't let you slip away again. Together, you would face whatever darkness lurked in the shadows, both within and without.

══════════════════

The sterile white of the infirmary faded to the familiar blue and gold of the X-Mansion as you stumbled out, supported by Remy's steady arm. A day of rest had done wonders, but the echoes of the void still lingered in your mind, a faint tremor that unsettled you.

Remy squeezed your hand reassuringly. "Easy there, belle. You're still movin' a bit like a newborn giraffe."

You managed a weak smile. "Feels like it. I have questions, Remy. About Genosha... about Bastion."

He sighed, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. "Plenty of time for dat later, chere. Professor wants you to ease back in slow."

But the urgency gnawed at you. You could feel it in the hushed whispers that followed you down the hallway, in the worried glances cast your way. The world had moved on while you were trapped in your own personal nightmare, and you were desperate to catch up.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the training room. The sound of crashing metal and shouts echoed through the halls. You exchanged a confused glance with Remy.

"Looks like someone's havin' a temper tantrum," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Before you could respond, Ororo burst through the doorway, her face a mask of frustration.

"Remy, Eclipse," she said, her voice clipped. "Professor Xavier needs you in the war room. Now."

The urgency in her voice sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. You exchanged a wordless look with Remy before following Ororo, the tremor in your legs replaced by a growing sense of dread.

The war room buzzed with activity. Xavier sat at the center table, his brow furrowed in concentration. Scott and Jean stood beside him, their expressions grim. But it was the sight of Rogue in the corner, her aura crackling with barely contained rage, that sent a shiver down your spine.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice cutting through the tension-filled silence.

"We've received a message," Xavier said, his voice strained. "From Bastion."

He gestured to the holographic screen at the center of the table. A distorted figure flickered to life, a silhouette shrouded in darkness.

"Mutants," the figure boomed, his voice filled with malice. "Your defiance has reached its end. You will all face your judgment."

The image flickered before dissolving into static. You felt a familiar coldness creep up your spine. Bastion's voice resonated within you, a dark echo stirring the remnants of fear from your recent ordeal.

"What's he planning?" you asked, the question hanging heavy in the air.

"He's making a statement," Scott said, his jaw clenched tight. "A threat. He wants us to live in fear."

Rogue let out a growl. "He wants a fight. And believe me, he's gonna get one."

The air crackled with barely contained energy. You could see in their eyes the same desperation you felt – the need to act, to strike back before Bastion could make his next move.

"We can't let him control us," Jean said, her voice steady but firm. "We need a plan."

Xavier nodded, his gaze flicking to you. You felt a spark of apprehension. Despite your weakened state, you knew you wouldn't be left out of the coming conflict.

"Eclipse," Xavier said, his voice filled with a question. "Are you well enough for this?"

You straightened your shoulders, a newfound determination fueling your resolve.

"More than well enough, Professor," you replied, your voice ringing clear and strong. "The X-Men fight together. And I'm not going to sit this one out."

A flicker of approval crossed Xavier's face. A sense of unity settled over the room, replacing the fear with a steely resolve. The battle against Bastion had begun, and the X-Men, battered but not broken, were ready to fight. You had stared into the void and come back. Now, it was time to face what lurked in the shadows.

When the meeting was seemingly dismissed, you lingered in the halls with Remy for a beat too long. There was still so much that lingered unspoken between the both of you. Neither of you had admitted actual feelings yet. You reached out for him, but he brushed you off, a coolness to the air. "Sorry chere, I'm just...still gettin' used to dis. It's crazy. You bein' back from the dead and all. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy you're back. It's just...I dunno chere, I guess I just need time to process it all," he sighed heavily flipping a Queen card between his fingers.

You understood all too well, your own feelings of displacement fresh. You'd been away for weeks but present at the same time.

"Right, no...I-I understand. I need time too," you replied, feeling an air of indifference between the two of you. You parted ways, even as your feet dragged the halls. It stung. You couldn't lie. But if time was what Remy needed, you'd give that to him with respect and space.

The sterile halls of the X-Mansion echoed with an emptiness that mirrored the hollowness you felt inside. The near-death experience had left you adrift, a ghost haunting the place you once called home. You craved a connection, a familiar voice amidst the strategizing and simmering tension.

Spotting Morph lounging by a window, a pang of relief nearly flooded through you. "Hey stranger, finally back from the dead to catch up on our horror movie sessions. Sorry it took me so damn long."

Morph smirked. "There's that dark sense of humour I missed. C'mere." They opened their arms and brought you into a bone crushing hug. "Careful there, or you'll break me in half." you smirked, hugging them back with equal comfort.

"I've missed your dumb face. Your real one. You know how many times I had to shapeshift into you just so I could get by without breaking down? Every time I did, only to see you staring back at me in the mirror, telling me you were okay and shit was gonna be alright?" They sighed, voice trembling and threatening to break with each word.

"Oh, Kevin..." you were trying so hard to fight back your own wave of emotions. "Don't ever pull that shit again Eclipse." They pulled away, serious this time.

You decided to take this conversation to the living room, a vast open area where the two of you used to laugh at stupid rom coms. You took a seat on the sofa, patting the seat next to you for Morph to join.

They settled in beside you, popping a can of soda in the process, soaking in the rare moment of calm. The weird sensation of having you back.

"Tell me about Genosha, Morph. Remy filled me in on the big stuff, but…"

Their face hardened. "It was bad, Eclipse. Real bad. I watched the events transpire on television and let's just say, no horror movie could pale in comparison to what I saw on the news. And Rogue… well, she was not herself."

They recounted the raw grief that had consumed Rogue, her powers surging out of control as she sought vengeance. He spoke of the fight with Synch, the desperation in her eyes.

"And Remy? How'd he cope with it all?" you finally asked, voice tinged with trepidation, the question lingering heavy in the air.

Morph hesitated, then sighed. "He was lost, Eclipse. He cared for you deeply. But after… well, after you were gone, Rogue was on a one-woman warpath. Gambit tried to reason with her, but…" they trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air.

You felt a flicker of something akin to disappointment. Despite your connection with Remy, the knowledge that he might have sought solace in Rogue during your absence twisted a knot in your gut. You couldn't have blamed him though.

"There was more to it than that," a voice cut in, sharp and laced with a raw honesty that made you turn. Rogue stood there at the archway into the living room, arms crossed.

"Rogue," you said, your voice cautious. "I can't imagine what you've been through."

"Hey sugah...things ain't been easy since you went lights out on us."

She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "Don't pretend, Eclipse. You and I, we both know there was something between Remy and me after you… after you died."

A wave of unexpected honesty washed over you. You met her gaze, your voice equally as raw. "I always felt there was something lingering between the two of you. Remy made no mistake of hiding it... but Genosha, and that dance with Magneto... did you love Remy?"

The question hung in the air for a beat too long before Rogue finally answered. "Maybe. In a way. But it wasn't the same. He was… broken, Eclipse. After you were gone, a part of him just… shut down. The man i knew wasn't my Remy."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You remembered the haunted look in Remy's eyes, the way his touch had seemed distant, a mere echo of the warmth you once shared.

"He tried to help me," Rogue continued, her voice heavy with regret. "But he was just going through the motions. It wasn't fair to either of us," she explained, making her way closer to you.

A strange sense of understanding bloomed between you. You saw the vulnerability in Rogue's eyes, the unspoken grief she'd been trying to mask. It wasn't about betrayal, you realized. It was about two people clinging to the wreckage of their emotions, seeking solace in a broken bond.

"We all lost someone, Rogue," you said, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. "But we can't let that break us. We have to fight. To live to see another day. And for Remy too. Maybe, just maybe, by fighting together, we can help him find his way back to himself."

Rogue flinched but didn't pull away. A flicker of something akin to hope flickered in her eyes, a silent pact forged in shared grief and a newfound understanding. She was still your best friend and nothing would ever change that.

#x men 97 #xmen #gambit #remy lebeau #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #cera writes

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